#and if his existence continues in these smaller cybertronians

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

That's something that I've been thinking about. He could've chosen self-preservation. Sentine's betrayel, the war between Decepticons and Autobots, I think he respects the will of the Cybertrons too much to intervene. He wanted them to grow and ascend even if he wouldn't be there to see it. Even if it would cost him his very spark, his very core. After all, this is the god that sacrificed his body to become their planet.

Primus, the Invisible Character of TF1

Primus in Transformers One is literally their planet and god. Yet, he can't do anything against Sentinel's betrayal all those years ago but take away the Matrix of Leadership. Taking away the Matrix was a message to all Cybertronians that something isn't right. Sentinel was still able to twist it anyway.

All the Cybertronians got the message. But not everyone acted on it. I can't really blame them. Sentinel set up a very exploitative, ableist, and classist system where those with cogs benefit from it, and those without are too busy trying to survive.

Orion Pax listened. He tried to do something about it by trying to know where the Matrix could be. Primus, all-knowing but not all-able, could only watch.

At first, I thought it was Darkwing's pettiness that got them to sub-level 50. But others have pointed out that Sentinel may have ordered him to do it because he doesn't want other cog-less miners to get the idea of going out of line because they can be more. So, in the end, sending the two to the sublevel, particularly someone familiar with how archive drives work, becomes his downfall.

Primus didn't do any of that. But I do wonder, with the planet's ever-transforming surface, if he sabotaged the train so that they would have no choice but to follow the coordinates instead of finding Sentinel?

But still, Primus could only watch as they got their cogs, as Alpha Trion fell, as Orion got everyone to revolt, as D-16 tried to kill Sentinel.

Though when Dee let the dying Orion fall, I noticed that the panels of the planet simply moved away to let him fall farther, until Orion's corpse reached the core, reached Primus himself. (Making one of his lines to Elita be a foreshadowing)

At that time, Primus was finally able to do something. He made his choice. He turned Orion Pax into Optimus Prime. Orion failed to find the Matrix, but the Matrix found him.

Primus, as a planet, is their all-knowing and omniscient god. But even he has to be met halfway by a Cybertronian for great changes to come.

[jweekgoji]

psst

if u have time pls do a continuation of the Yandere d-16 and reader but somehow he finds the reader when he’s Megatron and this time HE tops

Yandere!Megatron/Reader [TFO]

tw: ROBOTS sexxx (minors don't read please), possesive behavior, mentions of jealousy, brief violence/threats, biting, word count: ~1,2k additional tags: dom!Megatron, sub!reader, decepticon!reader, idol!reader, cybertronian!reader. a/n: it's not like /megs/ finds reader here but the other way around (ig) hehe.

The news of the sudden death of Sentinel Prime had reached you suddenly. Another ordinary, simple day, as it seemed back then. You were used to living in comfort and coziness, after all, from the moment you were born, you were special. At least, you couldn't help but feel that way in a privileged society.

Now, thinking about it, a feeling of pity and wrongness overwhelms your thoughts. It was no surprise that those who were unlucky enough to be born with t-cog had no choice but to dedicate their entire existence for the greater good of your entire race.

Standing humbly behind the decepticon leader's back, you only gave a silent glance in his direction. How much had he managed to endure? What exactly did he have witnessed that day when he went from an obedient and shy D-16 to...

“Why are you still here?” a deep, gravelly voice suddenly yanked you out of your thoughts.

For a moment, you didn't know what to answer. Was it that important? No, you never noticed him asking the same question to the others.

“To fight alongside you, Megatron,” you quickly replied, your arms kept hidden behind your back, like a well-trained soldier.

A soft, almost inaudible huff escaped from his lips as he shook his helm in mild frustration. He slowly turned around to bore his own red optics into yours. Weren't they orange? You didn't recall.

“That's not what I asked you,” Megatron narrowed his optics, his gaze still as stern. “You know what I'm talking about.”

You tilted your helm down, as if in submission or simply unable to maintain eye contact with him. Either way, an ominous feeling of regret continued to grow inside you, despite how often you tried convincing yourself that it was never your fault.

Funny, isn't it? It seemed like a while ago, here were the two of you right next to each other. His smaller, so small but never fragile frame, was so tender in your servos.

The chassis was completely tarnished in little bruises and scratches, yet it was always a pleasure to gently run your servo over the surface of the silver metal, feeling how the mech beneath you could only bite his fist in a desperate attempt to not make a single sound.

But now, everything seems so different, strange perhaps, but at the same time in its own way familiar. Above you now is a different person; to deny that would be foolish, if not pointless.

The frame is wider, much bigger, than you can remember. The chassis is now peppered with a lot of scars after numerous battles in which you can only feel sorry for every opponent he's faced. All stained in energon, the pink liquid slowly oozing out to smear your own frame. You know it doesn't belong to him.

“Mine, you're all mine,” his servo tightening around your wrists, pinning them both above your helm.

Megatron's heavy breathing made a pleasant shiver run along your spine, and almost instinctively, you pressed your hips against his own.

Everything felt so hot now, so suffocating, that you were barely hanging on to keep from passing out. His chassis only pressed you down further, taking away any chance you had of escaping.

You wish you could tell him so much now. That now, all in his power, you would have never dared to leave him at a moment like this. You would take whatever he would choose to give you, even though he was still inexperienced with controlling his own power.

The thoughts of the past fight gave Megatron no relief. It seemed that the more he focused on the past, the more he wanted to lash out with all of his pent-up anger at you. And you would take it, wouldn't you? You'd always come back and beg for more.

His servo squeezes your thigh, stroking and massaging, then, moves only lower to forcefully spread your legs. Your interface panel was open long ago, presenting him your soaking wet port. Getting off on this as much as he is, what a freaking pathetic duo you both are. That is why you have always been perfect for him, he thinks.

With a rough thrust, Megatron buries his spike inside you to a halt; the way you squeeze around him, writhing in pain and pleasure, is a godlike sight for him. Primus, he should have done that a long, long time ago. If only he wasn't so meek and weak-willed back then, but now he's thankful for it.

He lets out a low, guttural growl as he slams his hips against yours once again, receiving a soft whine. A small, still sensible part of him restrains himself to ruin your body more. That deep-rooted care and desire, genuine love, still makes him act all soft with you. It tells him to leave more kisses, to shower you in that love and care he grew for you for cycles from only observing.

Megatron grits his teeth at the thought. Acting soft and weak already cost him enough suffering in the past. Making the same mistakes again will only show off how little he changed since that day...

He tastes the energon on his glossa, leaving a cold, wet trail of saliva on your neck, only to be followed by a sudden bite, which makes you gasp in surprise.

It was a miracle that no one had entered the room by that time, with none of you trying to hide your gasps and moans from the potential listeners. Perhaps, they already found out; even Starscream, with how often he comes here to complain and grumble about everything, doesn't dare to bother Megatron at the moment of raw need, adrenaline rushing through the whole frame.

Your soft moans are music to Megatron's mind. Every single time you let out his name, breathlessly asking for more, only makes him pepper your neck in wet kisses, more of those bleeding marks forever marking your body. That is how it should be, how it always should have been. You underneath him, so beautiful and perfect, and the most important, this way everyone will know that you are his.

He had grown tired of competing for your attention since when he was a miner. Every day of hard work, daydreaming about you, of you finally noticing him instead of attending another race, with countless of other Iaconians showing their love for you. He would not make any more mistakes.

His, his and only.

“If you ever think of leaving me,” Megatron leans his helm closer to you, burying your face into the crook of your neck. “I will find and kill you with my own servos.”

What you said to him that day never left the mind of the leader of the decepticons. And it seemed that from that moment on, your relationship with each other took on a very different direction.y

Who knew that the threat of your own execution by no one else, but Megatron, would sound so hot to you?

[ppnuggie]

slides in,, claps hands together,, crosses legs,,

hello tumblr user ppnuggie i say ominously

i have a tarn request for you 🦀

first contact au where they dock on earth to snag a run away thats posing as reader's truck!! reader livin their best life pampering their old truck and driving on the beach and then theirs just a massive ass space ship on the beach and then giant ass robots come out and reader "nopes" the fuck outta there but when she gets to the parking lot her trUCK DUMPED HER and now shes having a very awkward staring competition with some purple man thats like "what is that thing?? its so small and squishy?? what do we do with it??" but also "its so cute,, it sounds adorable,, i like it,, i like this thing" and just fuckin,, nabs her

itd be absolutely delicious of you if there was a language barrier

　　　　　　TARN x fem reader

　　　　『　tarn ,, female reader 』

　　-> first contact au w/ tarn

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, lil crack ,, kidnapping

　　— kaon takes reader ,, lmk if you want another part to continue w/ this 🙏

        " are you sure he's here kaon ? i don't remember this planet or sector ." voice gruff and questioning the smaller bot . the red mech nodded ,, optics dark and empty as he smiled . " i'm sure of it , tarn ." he replied . the mech known as tarn nodded in return ,, looking at the scanners aboard the ship known as the peaceful tyranny . there was barely any trace of a cybertronian signal . barely ,, that is . there was a faint dot on the screen ,, showing one life signal .

        " prepare yourselves for departure . lets make this quick ,," tarn said to his crew ,, the djd ,, or better known as the decepticon justice division . " watch out for the life here ,, theyre .... organic ." he said slowly ,, disgust dripping from his words .

        _____________________________

        thankfully there werent a lot of people here today . not exactly hot enough for a beach day ,, per say ,, but you didnt mind that one bit . resting in the driver's seat of your old truck ,, you smothered your face with sunscreen . just because it was 70 degrees out didnt mean you were gonna risk getting toasted by the sun .

        glad there werent too many little kids around ,, you were able to enjoy your little day off without many interruptions . or so you thought ,, when all the sudden a gigantic ass space ship came outta nowhere . aint no way in hell you were gonna let this moment go though ,, knowing the ufos exist and the government was keeping those aliens locked up and away from public . fishing for your phone in your bag ,, you quickly drew it out and snapped your camera app open .

        switching to video ,, you got out your truck and starting to tape the spaceship . this was something outta star wars because aint no way this was government property and a thing for a movie . or maybe it was ? you werent too sure ,, busy being in awe of this majestic ship . until it had landed and out popped its crewmates .

        this had to be for a movie ,, it had to be . nothing like just happens on a wednesday . the most that happens is that commercial with the camel saying its hump day . this sorta thing happens on a friday or sunday . one of the robotic beings opened their mouth ,, static and chirps coming out . you werent too sure what it was saying though .

        it was all fine until they started looking around and one spotted you . it was quite big ,, purple with tank treads maybe ? it surely didnt look like something from the government ,, but it did look like it was some sort of military machine . a shorter yet more lanky one stomped forward ,, water splashing up against its legs as its hands wrapped around your body .

        your phone slipped from your hand ,, eyes wide with shock and jaw dropped open . " hey !" you yelled ,, pointing accusingly at it . " put me down this instant ! who do you think you are ?!" you spat at it . the being looked curious ,, chirping at the purple one you were just looking at .

       _____________________________

        " boss ! look ! its one of those organice you told us about !" kaon exclaimed ,, vos coming up beside him and looking at the creature . " it even gave me its goo ! that must mean we've bonded ! oh boss ,, can i keep it ?" kaok rushed excitedly towards tarn . he shoved the creature up at him ,," just look how cute it is ! please boss ! i promise to take care of it !"

        tarn backed away a bit ,, leaning down slightly to get a better look at it . " fine fine ,, just focus on the task at hand . as long as you keep it in your habsuite only ." the mech grunted ,, waving kaon away as he pulled up his internal scanners .

        tarn would later question his decision . the bot they were looking for had gone into hiding and with night falling ,, the leader had become quite irritated . he would just have to wait ,, it would seem .

[witchofthesouls]

Ayoooooo, Primeval Anon here, to respond to your response (don't worry too much about how long you took to answer, it was worth the wait)!

Omfg, you had me hooked in when you mentioned Bloodborne-influenced lore. I love the hell out of Bloodborne, and just in general From Software's Dark Fantasy settings. And I love that premise. It definitely fits in with the Quintessons clearly aquatically-influenced nature.

I also enjoy the idea of the Primes balancing each other out with their different natures. As well as the idea that the Quintessons kinda... cannibalized him... fucking gnarly lol.

Just imagine, post-occupation, there's these series skirmishes, perhaps even smaller-scale wars, between the og Prime worshipping groups and the the emerging sects of Quintesson-influenced cultists. Something like

Priest from Kaon: For it is said that in his wisdom, Megatronus- Priest from [SETTLEMENT NAME REDACTED]: You mean Mortilus? Priest from Kaon: :| *The settlement of [NAME REDACTED] was procedurally, systematically decimated in their war with the Kaonites*

Now, I don't know about other continuities they've featured in, like Aligned, but in G1 they definitely had some sort of caste system. Only ranking I can immediately think of are the "Judges", which would be the ones people generally think of when it comes to the Quintessons, there were a few other variants if I'm remembering it right. There was a video that I saw that talked about this, I'll have to go and re-watch it.

Anyways yeah, maybe the castes are made up of different sub-species within the Quintessons genus? And then under them come the Sharkticons and Allicons (Those weird croc-like dudes who nab Kup and Hotrod after they end up on Quintessa). Maybe they were at one point Cybertronian Wilders who were abducted by the Quintessons during the occupation and, through a mix of selective breeding and genetic modification, were able to turn them in their own obedient, self-replenishing army, that whenever the Quintessons aren't enacting some campaign of destruction or conquest, just kinda vibe in the oceans of Quintessa alongside the local fauna of the planet.

Y'know... now that I think about it, since the Quintessons would clearly inherit Quintus' unhinged daydreamer work ethic, do you think they'd also fuck with the wildlife of their homeworld, perhaps even the planet itself??? Gods, I hate how the Quintessons are so underdeveloped because they exist in the same universe as the Transformers.

Yeah, I'm really disappointed how the Quintessons as a whole are really underutilized as characters and background lore.

I mean, the shit is right there!

Me, if given the chance to sit down with a new Transformers team to talk about leveraging the connection between Cybertron, Earth, and Quintessa with supernatural elements:

Personally, I'm more of the "Quintessons fucked with their own planet" camp. Don't get me wrong, the Quintessons had established a massive empire to command resources, including bodies, but the Allicons and Sharkticons seem to be directly from Quintessa. Both fit the aquatic theme going on. Plus, sharks are natural predators of cephalopods and attack injured or sick whales (another predator of squids). While alligators don't usually eat cephalopods, they are an apex predator that does go on land and will eat just about anything. Soooo, easy clean up as well as population control on campaign?

I totally believe it's within character for the highest castes of Quintessons to be cyborgs/techno-organic instead of full mechanoid because of certain kinds of resistances and the way they control their fully mechanical populations. And they would totally be in genetic modification, selective breeding, and terraforming as a whole because 1) absolute control, 2) meshes Quintus' own special interests with the Quintessons' military and economic might, and 3) sustainability, what's that!?

The last point is the kicker because it's what really cements their own origins via Quintus Prime. That particular Prime truly believed that life should flourish at all costs. The problem? Environments can only support so much before nature sets up its own checks and balances, or the entire thing ends up collapsing.

Well, Quintus bypassed nature's complex and fragile systems and would have shown his organic creations how to overcome their own limitations: biological, physical, and environmental. He's like the guy that would successfully crossbreed potato and kudzu because the resulting crop would feed millions upon millions... at the astronomical cost of arable land, soil health, decline of biodiversity, and property management due to accumulated damages.

Quintus doesn't worry about that because it's part of the process! He's collecting data for future reference and starts working on fertilizers to support the crossbreeds immense nutritional demands, animal husbandry so herbivores can chomp down on the remains, and construction materials/architectural designs resistant to plant growth damage.

Quintus, you crazy scientist of a dreamer, that's not the fucking point!

So yeah, because Quintus didn't have his siblings to kick his ass about sustainable measures (because everything from medicinal to food to construction had to come some somewhere), Quintessa got overharvested or destroyed. Because of the immense deprivation, Quintessons went colonial on their planetary neighbors. Because they succeeded with their neighbors and never thought to change their way of life because of yummy resources, they went on campaign into distant systems where they cut their teeth against mechanical species and subjugated them.

And because the If You Give a Mouse a Cookie pattern would take way too long to get to my point: the Quintessons literally built their way to conquered Cybertron, fuck that planet and its indigenous people and fauna over in the spectacular fashion they did to Quintessa, got kicked off as their empire almost collapsed, but literally had a direct hand to the civil war between Autobots and Decepticons that lead to the final stand off on Earth.

(Funny enough, the civil war was on a scale so massive that it encompassed galaxies and disrupted the current rendition of the Quintesson Pan Galactic Co-Prosperity Sphere. They literally built the greatest threats to their own empires. Who would have thought?!)

Religious tensions after the Quintessons been kicked off would have been an interesting direction to explore. Even life during the occupation as the Thirteen would have been symbols of rebellion versus the Quintessons' rabid methods to obfuscate their own origins as well as tactics to break the cultural roots and ties of new subjugated planets.

Because old names become illegal, new epitaphs or names are given to undermine the regime and eventually become the new cultural practice. Then, there's the cultural blend between the natives and the colonial powers as well as the generations purposely raised in a certain cultural mindset. Since the Quintessons took control of the Well, it's a safe bet that they also took control of the institutional pillars of the society: religion, science, and law.

Primes are still titanic figures on post-occupation Cybertron, so perhaps Quintessons had only limited success in destroying mythic tales and religious traditions. Because the newer generations took on the Quintessons' distaste towards beasts and untouched nature as well as kept Quintessons' way of social hierarchy that they knew.

Quintessons emphasized function as Cybertronians (and other mechanoids) are machines compared to them. All machines have certain functions, no? Some machines are meant for certain roles, no? Machines are only capable as much as programmed, but Quintessons are far more advanced because they overcame their limitations with their own creative endeavors!

Quintessons basically treated Cybertronians as living appliances, gadgets, and animals. To them, a Cybertronian was a more fun and dynamic Siri or Alexa than a real person. Sure, a Quint could bond and form an emotional attachment, but it's still not truly 'alive.' And they codified that into their own laws.

Basically, Quintessons would have been okay with Prima and his Guiding Hand. They would have propped up his specific actions on how civilization should be (cement more tensions between city-states and Wilder tribes and unregulated environmental policies), switch up or change key mythology (Prima and Megatronus being split-spark twins that rule together into Prima being the sole Sun and Megatronus becoming a late brother that became the Great Evil that became jealous of the Sun and destroyed Life.), and straight up destroyed or damaged historic and culturally significant items and practices that deem it otherwise (the Well of Allsparks; removing the golden horns of fully-trained doctors that pay tribute to Liege Maximo's ties to medicine; the removal of various sigils of specific Primes and associated groupings, Onyx's Mask removed from stages as it functioned as Comedy and Tragedy masks).

[jessenitrogen]

cybertronian anatomy ?? (headcanons)

FAIR WARNING, I STILL DONT KNOW THE MOST ABT TRANSFORMERS, I KNOW THERES A TCOG AND A SPARK BUT THATS IT AND ALSO WHILE I DID TAKE ANATOMY CLASS I FORGOT A BIT OF IT BUT and doesnt help I know next to nothing abt mechanics stuff

and another fair warning, the headcanons are canon to ME when I put them in the context of my continuity and exist bcuz I thought of it to fit in my continuity/my designs bcuz fuck it we ball

DENTA/TEETH/DIGESTIVE SYSTEM?

I think the purpose of their denta would not to chew but to bite into energon. Theyre metal beings, that are BIG in most cases, I believe they have a bite force strong enough enough to bite into energon in its mineral state.

For denta appearance, (while I dont know the best shape there is to cut into rock) would be sharp teeth, yknow pointed teeth. Some cybertronians have sharp pointed teeth and then there are some who dont. Well heres the kicker since these guys can also transform, I feel like they can alter their denta shape as well. highly compacted plates that can loosen and move when need be or something. Their sharp teeth can pop out like that HTTYD scene with Toothless popping out his teeth

They dont have tongues, cuz they dont taste, or use it to swallow, or use it to talk. They just kinda. Lean their helms back to get energon into their throats, like birds!!

And they dont need a tongue to formulate their speech, for their voice box is like, a literal box that generates sound waves that is the cybertronians voice. A cybertronian moves their mouth as to not muffle their voice.

While their denta is not designed to chew, in order to get energon into a shape/size that can get to their version of stomachs, their throats grind the energon into smaller bits so it can travel easier through their esophagus. or whatever the cybertronian equivalent is.

Once the energon gets to their stomachs, its melted down into a liquid state so it can flow to the spark where it is essentially "charged" and then can flow throughout tubes and circuits and power their bodies/frames and systems. And I believe, the cybertronians were created in such a way that they can utilize every component of energon so nothing goes to waste.

Cybertronians were created before the technology was made that could convert energon into a liquid state. That tech was made as to cut down digestive time and save energy that could be used for other things.

SKIN/INTEGUMENTARY SYSTEM

idk what cybertronian skin is called and I barely remember what the integumentary system is other than its skin it helps regulate body temp and helps fight infection?

ANYWAYS their skin is like a very flexible metal, its thinner in parts where the frame has more armor, but thicker in places that dont have armor to compensate for the lack of armor.

Here in this thin layer of metal are receptors that can sense touch and pain, and like idk abt this part but wanna say there is a thin layer of wire net/mesh that can either warm up or cool down as a way to assist the cybertronians ventilation system (ventilation system does most of the work when cooling down the frame)

This layer can repair itself over time. It can also be replaced with external metal if the layer is too damaged. During the early times of the War for Cybertron injuries were repaired with external metal. This external metal did not include touch/pain receptors or the wire net/mesh that assists with temp regulation. Those who were frequently repaired with this external metal have some resistance to pain but have the tendency to overheat, in severe cases need an external source to cool down their frames. ie, dipping in water

Cybertronians need to stay at a constant temp, normally a LOT warmer than we do, in order to keep the energon in a liquid state and stay warm during the nights on Cybertron. If they get too cold the energon can solidify again and cause blockage in circuits and tubing. But if their frames get too hot, the processor can fry, circuits can melt, etc

EXTRA/HALFBAKED HEADCANONS

these I dont have detailed thought on atleast yet, but

They wouldnt have noses. they dont breathe, or smell, so.

They dont have ANY reproductive organs, internal or external. They cannot reproduce with eachother or by themselves. their numbers only increase bcuz of the Allspark

AND THATS ALL I HAVE rn I'd like to state here and now that these headcanons definitely apply to all of my characters and my continuity versions of canon characters. and like, no one has to agree with them or use them but it's also cool if someone does

[theicescorpions]

Primal Fire

Wheeljack never escaped the Decepticons after the fall of the Autobot Base. Instead he was given to Shockwave as a test subject. Through a series of horrific experiments, Wheeljack is no longer a normal Cybertronian. He’s been turned into a Predacon. When Starscream and Knockout cause a zombie outbreak on the Nemesis, Wheeljack escapes. Now out for revenge and seeking to learn how to control his new body he finds an unlikely new friend, another Predacon experiment who was long thought dead.

Story inspired by @sugarand-everythingnice and her “Of Flesh and Steel” AU

Chapter One: Rebirth

Choking, Burning with white hot fire, Wheeljack struggled within the viscous fluid that filled his containment cylinder. Unspeakable pain, relentless agony, time ceased to exist. Only this torture and a deepening hatred of those who condemned him to this hell.

He’d been captured by the Decepticons and instead of sentencing him to death after they rooted around in his head he’d been given to Shockwave as a test subject.

Wheeljack couldn’t hear or see anything and whatever that one eyed freak was doing to him the only thing Wheeljack was aware of was that it felt like his armor had been melted away leaving only his protoform behind and the mad scientist was playing ‘operation’ while keeping him alive and aware of every bit of pain.

Eventually he felt his body begin to itch and new armor beginning to grow across his protoform and the tube seemed to shrink and there was no more room to thrash or fight the pain and he was left to curl into a tight ball to fit into the increasingly small space.

Wheeljack could feel his mind slip in and out of consciousness and his memories became fuzzy and hard to grasp. He clutched tightly to the memory of Team Prime, Bulkhead and Miko and the last memory he had of his carrier. As the memories grew harder to remember something changed.

He heard alarms and the thick glass around him cracking then blaster fire. As the blaster fire receded, Wheeljack flexed and stretched, hearing the glass around him crack even more.

He knew he had to break free before it was too late. His movements grew more frenzied as the Decepticons were too preoccupied with their own battle to notice his struggle. His mind reeling with the idea of freedom after what felt like an eternity of misery.

With one last surge of strength, Wheeljack burst through the glass, shards flying in all directions. He spilled out onto the floor in a heap. His frame immediately heaved and he began purging a fluorescent yellow goo from his system and he gasped for fresh air.

He looked around, his mind hazy. Everything seemed so much smaller. He forced himself to stand and was startled that he couldn’t stand on two legs. Then he looked up and the reflection of the face he saw wasn’t his own. It was a monster from one of Miko’s movies. Wheeljack recoiled back but heard more blaster fire and screaming. No time to figure out what the hell was happening he had to get out before Shockwave came back and continued whatever this was.

He awkwardly found his footing after tripping and falling over his feet and his tail??? This was so fucked.

Wheeljack's head swam as he stumbled forward, each movement sending jolts of pain through his circuits, his new form feeling foreign and unwieldy. The sounds of battle echoed around him, the cacophony of blaster fire and shouting spurring him on. He needed to find his way out, away from the Decepticons and their torturous experiments.

As he moved through the dimly lit corridors, Wheeljack couldn't help but marvel at the strength in his new limbs, the sharp claws at the end of his digitigrade legs clicking against the metal floor with each step. His tail swished behind him, a constant reminder of his altered state.

Rounding a corner, Wheeljack froze as he came face to face with a group of Decepticons. They stared at him in shock, backing away at the sight of this unfamiliar creature before them.

Without hesitation, Wheeljack lunged forward, his instincts taking over. He ripped apart several Decepticons and his jaws closed on the last vehicon with a sickening crunch, warm energon oozed out of its crushed frame, staining his new teeth. He ended up involuntarily swallowing the vehicon’s blood and his body immediately demanded more. He was starving. He crunched down harder, sending a larger gush of energon down his parched throat and he began to chew, devouring half of the vehicon before his head cleared enough to focus on the matter at hand.

No time to feed. Danger. Out out out. Had to get out.

Wheeljack sprinted through the halls of the Decepticon ship, He was desperate to escape this place, to be anywhere but here. He eventually made it up to the flight deck and skidded to a halt at the edge of the ship.

Looking down, Wheeljack saw a vast expanse of Forest far below him. The trees stretched out as far as the eye could see, painted in hues of green and brown. This was his only hope for freedom.

With a deep breath, Wheeljack leaped off the ship. If his frame couldn’t handle the drop, oh well. death was preferable to being recaptured. And if he died at least the pain would end.

Plummeting down towards the forest floor, Wheeljack braced himself for the impact. His armor offered little protection against the ground's unforgiving surface. As he hit the ground, he rolled, skidding across the mossy leaves and twigs with a loud crackling noise, trees splintering under the weight of his mass pin balling off of them until he finally tumbled to a stop. The pain coursed through him like wildfire, but it was a different kind of pain, overshadowed by the relief of freedom.

He lay there for a moment, gasping for air, his body heaving and trying to recover from his ordeal. The sky above him was darkening as thunder rumbled in the distance. Relief flooded his systems and the exhaustion he felt from the constant agonizing torment pulled him under, not realizing that the low sound he heard was coming from his own chest.

Wheeljack snapped back into awareness after an undetermined amount of time when he heard the underbrush rustling. A pair of golden optics met his blue ones. A reassuring thrum permeated the air and he involuntarily relaxed as the creature approached him and gently nosed his face.

His chest rumbled back a response filled with pain. The creature hummed a reassuring melody as it pierced a spot on his foreleg with a talon. Wheeljack jerked and hissed before the creature dug out a tracker and threw it away.

Wheeljack looked between the creature and the device for a moment before he realized what it was, rage boiling to the surface in a vicious hiss as he quickly smashed it with his claws angrily before losing his strength again and collapsing back to the ground.

The creature licked the wound it had made on his frame and it stopped bleeding. It then slipped its body under his and lifted him up on its back. His head hung down over its shoulder, his abnormally long neck making it so that his nose almost touched the ground.

The creature used its snout to adjust him into a more comfortable position before quickly retreating deeper into the heart of the forest.

Back on the Decepticon warship, the vampiric zombie outbreak had been contained and dealt with and Shockwave was assessing damage to the ship by order of Lord Megatron when he finally returned to his lab. The one eyed mech stared at the shattered containment cylinder and the flashing red warnings on the screens.

!Containment Breach!

Physical Alterations: Complete

Memory Wipe: Failure

Containment Protocol: Failure

Termination protocol: Failure

Tracking: Error! No tracker found

Shockwave quickly turned to report this to Megatron. Starscream and his idiotic folly have created more than five major issues on this day. And one of them was still an active threat.

Chapter Two: Monster

Also posted on Wattpad

[darthkvznblogs]

Are there any rules that Celestials who hang around in reality have to abide with? Like what would happen if Ego spread his weird planet-assimilating goo on Primus and Unicron's shared "corpse"?

This is gonna sound dumb, but Celestials who choose to actively participate in their creations, or those of others, almost always commit to the bit.

The vast majority of Celestials merely observe Creation, with a smaller group making decisions when it comes to creating new universes or destroying others. Very, very few of them actually go into the myriad dimensions of the Multiverse, taking whatever form they deem appropriate and choosing a life (or in Primus and Unicron's case, a death) for themselves.

Cybertron exists as it is because its cosmic god components chose to exist that way. The same goes for the dead Celestial that makes up Knowhere. Ego's chosen path would see him try to consume the entire universe until everything in that reality is him, and maybe there's a Celestial out there whose chosen path would put them at odds with him, but it wouldn't be Primus or Unicron - they chose to die. They continue to choose to be dead. If, in death, they are consumed by Ego, and their Cybertronian heirs are eradicated, then that is the fate they'd abide by.

It's playing pretend with reality, and nobody likes it when the rules are changed mid-game just because one side or another is losing.

[milesonthenet]

The FIVE reasons I love Transformers

 I want you guys to sit here and visualize something for me. Imagine that you are a young child going to the movie theater in 2007. You see what you think is your favorite movie for the first time in your life. Giant computer-animated robots wage war on the giant screen.

This is House of MilesVerse, and today, I will take you on a journey. I will explain why I love Transformers as a franchise. More than that, I will explain what elements in particular I enjoy.

Reason Five: Timeless

The Transformers series first debuted in 1984. The series focused on the eponymous robotic lifeforms. They were split into two sides, the Autobots and the Decepticons.

 What I find funny is that the TV series was more akin to a commercial. It was there to push children to buy the most popular transformers. New characters would also debut for the sake of marketing toys to children.

On its own merits, Transformers is a fairly simple series about robots. The setting has changed more than once across the franchise’s long history. However, the basic principles and concepts are still kept in the series. 

Reason Four: The issue with war

Numerous stories have portrayed the Autobots and Decepticon’s war across space. Fittingly, the stories all portray the consequences and aftermath of their war. This paints a grim picture but also gives the Transformers an edge of realism that works for them.

For example, their war first destroyed their home planet, Cybertron. The constant conflict exhausted the planet’s resources. Because of this, most stories would depict them leaving their planet.

Reason Three: The series’ focus on Earth creates an interesting perspective.

Typically, after their exile, they would embark on a journey to Earth. The Autobots and Decepticons recognize the potential uses for Earth’s resources. From there, both sides would begin their war anew on an unfamiliar planet.

What I love about this is that it also puts them in a foreign land. The cybertronians have to acclimate to another planet. The Decepticons choose to attack the planet for its resources in creating Energon. The Autobots choose to protect it and eventually adopt it as their second home.

I also love how the Autobots are able to bond with the humans. They recognize them as a smaller species, which has also attacked them more than once. However, they still choose to protect them because it’s the right thing to do.

Reason Two: Nobody has to BE a Decepticon

The Decepticons in the original cartoons were typically portrayed as villains. They were your everyday morning cartoon thugs that followed the evil overlord’s commands. The Decepticons transformed into a variety of dangerous weapons, monsters, and even assault vehicles.

However, over time, alternate continuities have helped to give them more depth. IDW in particular paints the Decepticon movement as a social movement that devolved into your usual villains. Whatever credibility and integrity the movement had was drowned in the bloodshed of Megatron’s latest actions.

In addition, turncoats also existed in the franchise as Decepticons who abandoned their prior faction. Characters like Drift, Jetfire, and even Megatron himself show that some Decepticons can turn over a new life. Nothing is impossible, even redemption, so long as you believe in changing.

Reason One: Optimus Prime is one of the BEST superheroes!

Optimus Prime is the leader of the Autobots and one of the most iconic heroes. Everyone knows his famous truck transformation, and his disappearing trailer. Across the series, he has been portrayed as a gentle giant and a father to his men.

Part of why I like Optimus Prime is how pure hearted he is. His voice actor, Peter Cullen, crafted the voice by mimicking the mannerisms of his brother, Larry. Larry was a soldier in the United States who served in Vietnam. To think that his brother inspired him to become a real hero for multiple children is a beautiful message.

Despite coming from humble beginnings as a librarian, Prime is experienced in war. He’s been able to easily match Megatron and keep up with the Decepticon leader. Some versions of the story make Optimus and Megatron former friends who were on different sides of Cybertron’s conflicts. They both hold a degree of mutual respect as worthy opponents to each other.

Optimus Prime is similar to Superman in a lot of ways. They both are foreigners from outside of Earth. Despite that, they are heroic, honorable, and always keep their word. They risk their all to save people because it’s just in their nature.

And that is EXACTLY what it means to be a hero.

I hope you enjoyed this place.

[darkest-hour-stories]

Showcase 1 - A Ballad in the sea of rust

Next

This is the first of many stories written by matchesforpatches on Discord. The goal of these stories are to show off some of the OC's created in Darkest Hour and their unique backstories. Each story will have a different form and style to it. And so, without any further wait, here is our first tale!

Chapter 1 - Home

“They say that an Outlaw does things their way. They say that they don’t adhere to someone else’s rules but they do forget one little thing. That not every Outlaw started as one, not every Outlaw chose that path. Some Outlaws aren’t born, they just are chosen from circumstance. For my story, this couldn’t be any more true.”

Sitting steadfast in his seat, Desperado speaks softly. Gripping onto the tree he sits on for support. He softly exhales as he continues his story. The orange flames color dancing upon him as he tells a tale.

“I was forged in a little town called Cyberside. It was quant, a little place to stop by before heading down the trail. Femmes and Mechs had specialized roles but they were equals. Most of the mechs went to the big cities, the femmes kept things running back home. The femmes built homes, watched and taught the young, and did jobs in the community, they did so as a large group. The mechs separated out, doing big pay jobs in order to provide for their spark mate's and any sparklings brought into their care. 

At first I was confused as to why they did this. Afterall nothing else in the town was divided by gender, the town had actually been progressive in that respect. Hunting parties to the sea of rust wasn’t decided by gender. Elected officials weren't decided by gender. Where you lived wasn’t decided by gender. Nothing in that town ever was except one thing, whether you worked in the city or whether you worked in town. Then I heard the stories, those terrible stories and then I understood. When the village elder told the tale of the southern raider, then I understood. 

Many cycles before, before the energon well dried up in town, the southbounders would come. Big and beastly Cybertronians, their optics were yellow and green, their helms adorned with sharp panels, face plates adorned with teeth. These Cybertronians followed no laws but their own and they never came alone. When the village elder was just a young mech, he watched Cyberside suffer from raid after raid. Each trip the energon well become more and more depleted. When the well finally did dry out, the village thought they were saved. These naive thoughts were shortly put to rest when the raiders returned. 

When the raiders returned they didn’t go for the well but the mechs instead. Capturing some of the mechs they rounded them up and took them away. Only leaving femmes and sparklings, the mechs were taken away. Trip after trip, the cycle continued, it continued until there were no mechs anymore. When no demands were ever posted nor any government help ever sent to recover the mechs, the femmes took matters into their own hands. Finding the encampment, they waited for the Southbounders to leave for their next raid. When they did, they stormed the camp.”

Suddenly Desperado stopped, taking a deep sigh and tilting his hat as he continued to speak again.

“They found no mechs, at least none that weren’t in a million pieces. Worst part wasn’t trying to ID the individual but rather trying to determine where they were even from. Now the law didn’t necessarily exist out in the sea of rust but this was beyond monstrous. Though the femmes with this information, gathered some much needed insight that they took back with them. They knew the raiders only came during the week and they only killed the able bodied mechs. What if when the raiders came there were no mechs to be found?

Without any mechs, the raiders sent smaller and smaller raiding parties to Cyberside. It was a community of all femmes and sparklings all of which they were forbidden by their own laws to harm. So frustrated the southbounders would leave and sometimes they wouldn’t come altogether. The femmes had figured out a solution, as the sparklings reached adulthood and became able bodied mechs, they were sent to the cities to work. Far enough away and closer to civilization they would be free from harm and be able to send money back to their families. In return the femmes worked the community and no one would be killed by the raiders. 

By the time I was born, a southbounder hadn’t been seen in ages. If there still weren’t bots around who could tell me in vivid detail who they were, I wouldn’t have believed they were real. In this small little cultivation village where I was born and raised. It was a truly blessed place, a little slice of Primus that anywhere wouldn’t even hope to match. I miss it, even to this day. Even after everything that has happened, even after everything that will happen. I miss it. I’d give my spark just to see that little town whole again…”

The fire dies down as Desperado brings this chapter of his story to an end. His optics dart across each amber of the dying flame. Quietly reflecting and processing those memories from cycles upon cycles before. He slowly stood and exited, the memories beckoning him no more as he escaped the light the flame projected. 

Next chapter coming soon

[grokebaby]

Piggybacking off my original tags here to talk about Terrorspark and Thunderwing. Do I think TW would canonically exist in the aligned continuities. Probably, but it's likely very low in the Canon hierarchy considering ykno. It's an early 20teens Wii game. I however like this game and for funsies Thunderwing exists. To me.

Has he met Terrorspark, no probably not. I get the feeling he's a bit younger than Terr but that's mostly going off of my own vibes. He's also worlds smaller than TRR which is a little funny bc he's such a headstrong and aggressive little feller with a mean voice. Why are you so angry dude. Give him a dog toy to tear to shreds. Obviously Terrorsparks vessel is way smaller than him but that's on account of it being on the average cybertronian scale in size. Thunderwing is like the size of a meteor. Is it also distracting that both their names are two part and begin with T. I hope yall can keep up which one I'm talking about. There's my oc and there's one off video game antagonist.

So I don't think those two would get along with each other considering that compared to Terrorspark, Thunderwing is like fanatically devoted to Unicron and TRR doesn't even like him. They'd get into arguments for sure and Thunderwing would probably call it a traitor and try to wreck Terrs ass. I'm sure he'd succeed in snapping the vessel like a twig but I very much doubt he could do much to the actual titan especially considering their huge size difference (again, planet > meteor).

Oh the reason I'm making the meteor size comparison is bc in the game Thunderwing is trapped inside a huge chunk of dark energon crystals (which for the uninitiated is like the. Evil energon and is heavily associated with Unicron to the point that it's called his blood or something. Which makes one kinda wonder about why Thunderwing was found within a cluster of them. Hmm. Birth?)

Thinking about Thunderwing from the transformers prime Wii game...

[birthdaycakeplate]

Optimus getting pampered because he deserves it-

We love that boi-

💖Oh! Oh 💕a stranger 💖who loves💗💕me! Ohhhhh!!! OHHHHHH, I love you 💗💝too ✨stranger💞

💘Thank you for this chance to project💘

I shortened it to heck and back, please believe me, but this is fic length, again.

I’ve also been sick for a couple weeks and really channeled that humiliation into ruining Optimus here. He’s baby to the max.

✨Warnings are in the tags✨

💕Thanks everyone💕

——- ————- —-

“Are you paid hourly, sniveling whelp?”

Optimus tilted his helm up towards the blur of navy and violet, looming in tall, twisted shapes above him.

This particular Decepticon apparently had much to hate him for -maybe more so than Sentinel at times. Thankfully, Optimus had learned this mech would never dare to pose anymore a threat to him than being an infinite source of insults and condescendence. Much like Sentinel...

And while he hadn’t a clue what he’d done to offend him so, this was thankfully a normal enough occurrence that Optimus knew he wasn’t in any real danger. Which was good, because he could barely suffer to stand upright at the moment.

Optimus, in his haggard state, only then remembered that he was holding a very breakable datapad in hand and scrambled with pitifully shaky servos to right his grip. Somehow this minuscule task was an entire feat to accomplish. It predictably earned him a sneer from the other mech.

As far as this ‘Cyclonus’ with all his unrepressed hate, standing there only half expecting to get a real reaction out of the smaller bot went, Optimus figured he’d do well enough to give him his usual proud flick of the finial and continue his work. Seemingly unbothered. Seemingly undisturbed by tonnes of angry war frame that’d like to crack open his helm for invading his terf and enraging him by simply existing.

But right now, the floor was precariously close to spinning out from underneath him, and he couldn’t remember for the life of him what his work actually was.

7 cyberweeks of pathetic bits of recharge. Nothing solid, nothing deep enough to free up all the clustered data he’d tried to shove in on 14 hour shifts.

Getting used to life on the Nemesis, the work expected of him from the Magnus as the sole mech trusted enough to handle the raging rouge that was Megatron -while also not being a terrible loss if all his leaders’ worst fears that they were dealing with unreachable beasts in this truce attempt came true- had left him seriously sleep deprived.

There was plenty to keep him awake at night.

His leaders, for example, had left him with little faith in any of their futures. Optimus had known from the start of this arrangement he had a far better grasp on the genuine civility of war frames than an out of term council who were quite stuck in their ways. Including the likelihood an entire enemy faction were going to open up for them before they did a grunt with little say in anything without the desire for confrontation than the history books had shown his superiors had. Demanding respect, demanding conformance.

Obviously Optimus was just hoping to survive this ordeal, and made him leagues more approachable than the council did. In that sense, the route they’d chosen to take with his role here was a much better idea than their direct involvement.

It still pained him to think they’d be so eager to shunt him off with what they believed were hoards of dangerous, raving lunatics still. It’d definitely kept him from having a peaceful recharge for some cycles now.

He couldn’t say he was surprised they had, however. And there was evidently some consolation in admitting the roots of this bizarre culture of mecha to be undoubtedly absurd, and thus somewhat a lot of raving lunatics. They had absolutely proved to be unnatural forces of crazy-

But still quite reasonable. Still Cybertronian. Still worthy of a chance.

One rather ethereal creature from the dark depths of Tarn in particular had proven so.

Optimus would kick himself in the aft for prioritizing thoughts of Megatron of all horrid creatures over whatever he’d been standing in the command center at this hour for.

His struts ached, his vents rattled, his helm felt muddled and cloudy.

He could hardly make sense of what Cyclonus’ weary once-over meant -his lagging processor trying to focus much too hard on the datapad down in his servo and why he’d brought it in here.

After another beat of uneventful silence, the dark mech finally chose to move on with his gruesome morning, and Optimus watched him go.

“Don’t vorry about zat lu-lu.” Blitzwing chirped happily from somewhere behind him. Optimus would need to see the medic onboard about his shorting audio receptors when it came through with a touch of static.

Blitzwing carried on.

“He’s a bit of a vild card! Always causing a stir, ja?”

Optimus nodded like he knew all about the terror from the sky that was Cyclonus, and his supposed antics. Deciding then that a walk about the place would jog his processor back up to speed.

He moved a bit sluggishly, careful not to hover too long at someone’s shoulder.... Lest he make another enemy among these easily offended sparks.

Then someone, he couldn’t imagine what kind of Decepticon would be concerned for him in anyway -or if maybe he’d just hallucinated the voice whispering things in his audial in the first place- mentioned something about him being a hazard, and that he didn’t belong on deck in this state.

Which was war frame for, ‘You need a break, bud’, and Optimus couldn’t help but feel a bit endeared by it. Wheezing through ex-vents, or not, he was starting to recognize a place for himself here.

As for their lack of faith that he wasn’t about to tumble over the nearest control panel and send them all careening into a star, well... Optimus was terribly offended. Maybe he could have used a few more kliks in recharge, sure. But he could do his job!

Everyone needed him to!

Whatever that job was exactly....

He surely looked like a lost turbo-puppy, shuffling aimlessly about, finials dipping low. Out of breath from his rigorous traipse across 3 war frame sized stairs. Thankfully, though, he noticed a rather quiet spot that was practically void of bots at the top and center of the room, overlooking the organized chaos below.

Optimus hardly registered his pedes carrying there until he was nestled into the nice, dim quiet. His optics long since adjusted to the strategical use of black light on the main deck.

Having a moment to stop and rest, he found it the slightest bit easier to think up here. He took a labored breath that did nothing to clear his vents and held his datapad up to optic level.

He blinked down at the same header he strangely remembered reading over and over a few hours ago before the glyphs had started to merge and the room began to spin. Clearly he’d been in this poor shape for a while now and had had far too many chances to fix the issue. He deserved everything coming to slap him ‘round the faceplate for it.

Optimus stared intently at the pad like that would unlock all the secrets it possessed, staring numbly with helm swimming, until the datapad began to move father and farther away. Farther and farther, and then-

Warm, blissful silence.

——- ————- ————

Megatron had watched the little fiend stagger around the room in a kind of daze, wandering like he hadn’t spent the last 3 deca-cycles leaving his prints around the place. Pestering Megatron about ethical nonsense the entire time.

Clearly his processor was vacant enough not to know which way was up, as the little bot eventually came to stand on tired pedes beside him at Megatron’s throne of all places. Likely having moved there completely subconsciously in an effort to find somewhere quiet and soothing in his addled state.

His absolutely desolate state, really... poor thing wasn’t processing slag.

Megatron was surprised to find him take his place among him, wondering -hoping- if Optimus had perhaps *sought* his company out by some kind of instinct.

They certainly seemed to calm in each other’s presence under more cordial circumstances. Mostly notably during their occasional evening fuelings together where they entertained themselves by digging at some of their favorite tasteless literature -a hobby of sorts which they looked forward to, though the evenings were never actually planned.

And during the short briefings he’d decided at last to give the Prime a part in- the two quickly devolving into thinly veiled teasing in favor of committing to their very important work. Giving each other backhanded compliments until someone cracked and it turned in to full on sass and a mockery of the command room.

And during their trips across opposite ends of the near infinite ‘vessel from hell’, stopping when they came across each other to whittle away hours upon hours on stunted small talk, talk that Megatron would have sooner shot the jaw plate right off of anyone else who thought they should waste his time with. Optimus’ most common subject of interest being about how pretty the nearest constellation looked that evening.

Weirdly enough, running in to each other after having not seen the other for the length of that cycle doused the tension in something intimate. Those little talks always felt the most fragile and precious.

It was inevitable really. Wasting that time away doing nothing more than yammering about their ridiculous time on Earth in some kind of reminiscing that old friends do. Things that Megatron had hardly even made sense of at the time and felt strange and surreal they’d even shared those moments together -volatile as they were.

And sometimes it was them discussing their favorite theater (and Megatron’s endless surprise that Optimus even had such) until one of them remembered they were long overdue somewhere important.

Drawn to each other, like magnets.

Maybe, truthfully, he was romanticizing any time they spent together. Megatron was familiar -Optimus was likely only lured so easily by his company, because he was the only familiarity on an entire fleet of hostile faces.

But he could hope, because....

Well, because.... Because *Megatron* certainly liked having his company.

There, he breathed it into being. Couldn’t pretend it wasn’t so now that he’d spared so much thought about Optimus’ taste in defensive maneuvers over early fuelings, now could he?

Right now, though, the little Prime’s normally welcome presence was overshadowed by one anxious warlord with fists clenched, watching as the smaller mech began to sway.

The little fool hadn’t done a thing he’d been told about keeping his own schedule for recharge when he’d come aboard. The place was a chaotic mess, no one would be there to remind him to do ‘self care’ -a word that made most ‘Cons cringe away.

Of course, head strong, young and eager to prove himself, Optimus hadn’t listened... So sure he wouldn’t be struggling to keep up with powerful war type engines with enough stamina to work a kilocycle without a defrag (Megatron thought fondly of Shockwave).

Optimus simply had gone and overclocked himself like an aft. Megatron had noticed a disturbing pattern that involved Optimus not listening to anything concerning his health that wasn’t life or death. He’d seen a small instance of such when the bot showed blatant disregard for a gouging burn in his servo from his accidental contact with the lovely Sunstorm, convinced Ultra Magnus needed his report more than he needed emergency repairs. He couldn’t feel it, after all, so why couldn’t it wait another solar cycle?

For all his levelheadedness and practically, Optimus had failed further to recognize that sleep, at least, *was* life or death.

Well, then. Megatron, as a great and glorious leader, would just have to fix this mess himself. Possibly the only bot in existence that’d ever deserved Megatron’s kindness, and he wasn’t even cognitive enough to appreciate it.

A big, black servo engulfed a little, blue one and pulled.

Down went Optimus without a bit of fight in him, yanked right off his pedes and into Megatron’s lap. His optics had already offlined before he’d even landed, and he lay there silently, chest moving with every soft ex-vent.

Megatron shifted his thighs wider to offer more support to the little figure of exhaustion below, keeping him cradled. Observing the way his finials slipped lower down his helm and feeling rather enamored with the sight.

Getting Optimus in a state that wasn’t ‘suspicious’ or ‘cautious’ or ‘completely untrusting of a single mech in his vicinity’ was impossibly rare. It meant Megatron never got to see him with his guard down -something he’d have loved to see more of in their time on earth while they’d been at each other’s throats.

This look on him was surprisingly very much preferred -perfectly content to slumber away in his lap, unbothered, if Megatron didn’t know any better.

He couldn’t help but indulge in the sight of the little mech looking at ease, curling into his warmth. Incapable of being weighed down by the eternal war he seemed to wage with himself about whatever benign thing a pure spark had to guilt themself over.

The terror of Kaon, far too pleased with his new trophy however temporary, dared any curious optics looking their way that might settle for even a nanoklik a look of his own that promised slow, painful death. No one accepted his challenge and kept their helms down and about their busy lives.

Satisfied, Megatron looked down at his little menace from Iacon. The battered mech that’d both found his way onto Megatron’s pristine warship and -somehow- into the bounds of Megatron’s limited patience. And like a fool that wasn’t experienced for millennia in using good sense, Megatron had willingly opened both up to Optimus’ delightful presence, forcing them to allow him entrance and respect. Impossible to ignore.

Megatron would maybe admit he’d given in long before this truce and the bot’s position here.

Maybe around the time Optimus had snapped back at his attempts to break him with far too much confidence for a mech half his size. Maybe when he’d hauled him off his aft into custody with more nobility and honor than Megatron had ever seen an Autobot possess.

Optimus’ vents stuttered, worrying him further that something serious might be wrong.

Had he worked himself sick? Megatron had seen Lugnut do it -he’d seen Starscream do it.

He’d seen all his driven, loyal subordinates do it at one point or another.

This one was not the same, though. This one was small and easy to exhaust with pretentious has-beens like Ultra Magnus demanding the work of 5 mechs from him. From the few instances he’d seen him interact with the more sociable ‘Cons, he’d noticed Optimus was rather easy to guilt, too. Megatron had found that startling revelation quite a detriment to the little one’s health. A guilty Optimus, whatever had set him off, proved himself a workaholic and struggled to think of himself as more than just a cog in the machine. The ‘greater good’ outweighed the needs of the overworked few.

Megatron had no doubt in this case he had worked himself to sickness out of sheer guilt that some other bot might be even slightly inconvenienced by his absence.

Megatron bristled as he wondered who of his men could have put it in his processor that they mattered even remotely as much as Optimus’ well being did. Who was possibly more important than this weary one here?

A big, warm palm moved to fiddle idly with a windshield, stroking the glass, careful of its skewering claws. He received a tilted helm burying into his side in response.

Megatron was perceptive, and he’d directed that towards learning a bit about the thoroughly guarded bot below. When he considered every option, the chances were that Optimus had put the thought that he should be forgoing his health for the sake of his work in his own head. He seem predisposed to such from what Megatron had seen of Shockwave’s academy records of the Prime. Those very sensitive, very interesting records.

The little truck slumbered away. So frighteningly beyond the limits of a simple restful recharge with the hitch in his vents that Megatron was pushed to call in Hook. Fearful a permanent stasis was fast approaching.

Little fool....

—— ————-

Optimus awoke to a large warmth draped across his side, and the generous padding beneath his backstrut he could blearily make out as his berth. The pad felt near infinite, stretching on whichever way he sprawled, molding to his tired frame.

No.

No, not *his* berth.

Optics going wide, Optimus frantically looked over his surroundings, processor stalling when a visual feed finally made sense of things with smell and touch quickly following.

That large warmth was an impossibly large war frame lying a servo over him, pressed against his side. The smell of gun smoke, of something decidedly mech filled his olfactory. Without a thought he breathed deep, venting that heady mix deeper into his chest.

“You’re awake already?” Megatron -of all the horrifying creations in the galaxy- was sitting in a chair that’d been moved flush against the berth, so he could easily reach for his diminishing patient atop it.

Optimus willed his spark to extinguish then and there and let his frame sink into the padding, and further still, into oblivion.

Primus, just offline him now...

He clutched at the arm across him with hands he’d steadied through sheer force of will.

“I-where am I- what am I doing here- what are *you* doing here?”

“These are my private quarters, and I was told you’d be in recharge for at least a week.”

Megatron’s private quarters- with said mammoth of metal and muscle casually draping a servo over his unconscious figure? Great.

And this talk that he’d be in recharge for a week? A whole week?

Why in the Allspark would he-

Everything suddenly became more clear to him than it had since his steady decline of sleep on the Nemsis some deca-cycles ago. Awareness crashing into him all at once, cutting through his consciousness, and the unfortunate conclusion was-

“Oh... Oh no!” Optimus felt his spark sink to his tanks.

“I have to order rations for the crew on Kleese side! I have to secure a line between the expedition team that joined-“

In panic and sleep deprivation and whatever thing had made his helm all staticky, Optimus processor quickly got away from him.

“If we have another Phantom Fleet, it’ll all be *my* fault!” He cried, Megatron looking completely at a loss for *that* statement.

“I need to confirm I’m an available resource manager- they don’t even know I exist yet! They don’t have the proper facilities without someone to work the line! I have to report to Ultra Magnus- I-“ Optimus stopped with optics wide and rolled with great effort onto his side to level with the bigger mech.

“*How long have I been in recharge*?”

Megatron frowned accordingly.

“A few solar cycles.”

“No! *No*!” Optimus had to force himself to loosen his grip on the giant servo to keep from denting it. Easy enough, when defeat began to mingle with exhaustion.

He’d let everyone down, again...

That thought alone was enough to renew his vigor and send him practically crawling up the berth to escape Megatron’s hold.

“It’s too late, the expedition team will be starved to death already! I have to arrange a list of casualties-“

Free of one serval tonne servo, Optimus swiftly sat himself up, and was immediately met with a hot palm splaying over his chest plate. Pushing him back down with half the effort it’d take to restrain a fully functional Optimus.

“I have to get back, Megatron! The party have families waiting-“

“They’ve got everything they need, Prime!” Megatron said, half hysterical. The absolute delusion a frantic Optimus could conjure in his guilt. His *bizarre*, outlandish guilt.

“You aren’t the only communications source for my men- what an ordeal that would be.” Megatron had the audacity to roll his optics at the other’s mortal coil.

“But I-“

That servo moved from his chest to reach beneath him and lift his weakened frame just enough to stuff a pillow that was definitely not standard issue for the common rabble underneath his helm. Optimus’ aching shoulders fell into it gratefully.

Megatron continued to undo the tension tying him into knots with more of his usual bleak, hopeless reassurances. The ones Optimus was oddly endeared by and appreciated the familiarity of, despite the cold honesty.

“This alliance between our people is a glorified test run, and, inevitably, an excuse to continue the war when your leaders choose the most damning evidence you’ve unwittingly presented to them these past cycles to declare us ireedemable by Primus. And further, a wasted effort. Others far more capable at the moment have your position filled, Optimus Prime.”

No, Optimus wasn’t sure his leaders were actually so eager for the war to wage on- more like they had little to no hope an alternative was truly possible.

Which, why send him here in the first place then?

It was at that moment Megatron’s shameless spark burst to life, and a thick digit reached out to tentatively trace over the vents in Optimus’ abdomen. Up and down, crossing over the dull, bladed edges of his grille with a ‘clink’ when his claws caught over each fold. Careful not to bare down.

“W-what are you,” Optimus cleared his vocalizer and pushed that warm palm putting a flutter in his tanks away.

“What are you doing?”

‘It’s me, Optimus. Not that you remember my name when it doesn’t explicitly suit you.’ Was what he’d wanted to say. But how *exactly* could he deny how weirdly intimate their encounters had been as of late, anyway?

What with long, pointless conversations at late hours in empty corridors about Megatron’s extensive exploits from long before Optimus’ creation. Or asking, perhaps a bit too forwardly, to hear of his recreational works -which Megatron would deny him, though clearly flattered all the same. Or actively seeking the other’s gaze to share an eye roll with at the insanity of morning refuelings with all the ‘Cons who’d happily see each other pushed down a quarry forced to interact, providing endless entertainment of the violent sort.

One more unabashed display from this deplorable mech was hardly a surprise.

Even if this had been the first time their.... weird relationship had delved into this side of something genuine -like Megatron appearing honestly concerned for his well being.

Which was ludicrous, of course, but...

He had dragged him into his berth after all.

How and why had he ended up here, again?

Megatron looked unbothered by Optimus’ sudden shyness.

“I was merely trying to keep you relaxed. I need to keep you comfortable.” Megatron purred, like being in his berth wasn’t already questionable enough without *that* particular tone.

“Hook was quite clear that you needed ‘proper’ rest -and so, are you feeling content? How can I put your processor at ease?”

Optimus stalled.

Hook? The medic that’d threatened to throw Skywarp’s dismembered arms into a smelter instead of helping reattach them, but a medic no less? Optimus could only figure he’d fainted then, since he was missing such a large chunk of his memory in the time before Megatron’s overwhelmingly big berth was all he’d come to know.

And if the medic involved had assigned him here, then he’d been put on berth rest...

How humiliating.

Now he wished he’d just taken the extra care to recharge before he’d passed out in front of his superior.

His superior? Was Megatron even? Optimus was incredibly grateful his role and orders when given this position were so painfully vague now, and didn’t have to worry too much about his insubordinate streak towards both factions if it meant he didn’t have to consider *Megatron* his *superior*.

He made to move again, feeling he had to do *something*. He sat up again and got as far as swinging his legs over the edge of the berth before Megatron proved he was apparently happy to follow doctor’s orders for once -A miracle, considering the time he’d walked around on poisoned Energon once, refusing a system flush. He’d thrived off the contaminated fuel even, by pure spite to Starscream alone.

Optimus was really ready to get out of berth now.

“You’re staying here.”

Fantastic....

“Can’t I stay in my own room?” He pushed at the mech invading his space and blocking his escape.

“Certainly. And I will ensure you stick to doctor’s orders while you do so.”

Optimus’ finials tipped forward threateningly. Megatron ignored the pitiful display.

After a moment of unwavering wills clashing together and filling the expansive room with tension, Optimus had to sigh and swallow his shattered pride. Hoping this wasn’t the kind of thing he’d have to make a report about that would inevitably end up in the hands of Ratchet for future physicals.

He looked down at the big servo resting on the berth beside his thigh, waiting with deadly precision to jump out and snag him around the waist should he attempt freedom once more.

Controlling bastard.

“What sort of orders do I have?” Optimus growled, finials flat to his helm in an entirely different kind of threat.

“Luckily, the simple sort. And all very manageable by me.”

“You? You’re my keeper now?” Optimus hoped sassing would provoke the other into releasing him. Even if that was relatively hard to do.

“Can you afford to add ‘Nemesis Din Mother’ to your terrifying list of aliases?”

“I couldn’t very well afford ‘Forsaker of the Only Mech I Find Tolerable And At Times Reasonable’, now could I? But seeing as now isn’t one of your more sensible moments, I will assume the role as ‘Temporary Carer’.”

“Why?” Slipped out before Optimus could think better of ruffling the only bot concerned with his safety -and even with his scratchy vocalizer, he’d manage to sound quite demanding.

Who could blame him? With a history composed of violence and distrust once, this was the stuff of fever dreams.

Regardless, “Weren’t you listening?” was the significantly bemused response he received, and it was nowhere near satisfying enough an answer.

He supposed he would have to let ‘coworkers’ via ‘peace time’ be good enough a reason. As if that normalized being doted on in a work associate’s bed.

—— ———— —

Stuck in a berth on medical leave was one of the most painful experiences in Optimus’ lifecycle.

He was trapped there on special orders in a room where his former archenemy, who’d never bothered to remember his name at one time, could just waltz in and irritate him with news about the ship’s perfect functioning while their martyr took a much needed break. Aft.

Optimus could handle the sarcasm and pigheadedness -he’d gotten both from his Earth crew and Sari regularly. The awkward doting, however, when Megatron would bring him cubes and wait patiently (unnecessarily) for him to finish them before asking if he was still hungry was another thing.

As were the extra berth sheets that’d slowly started accumulating around Optimus, until he was practically lying fluffed up and wrapped inside a nest.

As were the corrosive polishes freshly bought and presented to him to use for a quick buffing when a private wash rack was a door away.

Confusing- mind blowing- so, so unnecessary- so, so humiliating.

He could have done without all this, yes, but he wasn’t sure if he’d have been saved the same fate if he’d demanded to suffer alone in his own quarters. Megatron was clearly actively seeking him out.

Finding the ex war lord locked inside his private room any other time was a rarity, ever present and foreboding someplace on the ship where there were blithering mechs to scare.

Now that Optimus couldn’t even get rid of him with Cyber-bear mace if he tried, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been something of a personal target of his since coming aboard the Nemesis. They did have a way of running in to each other, but *this*.... Megatron was always fluttering about his room now, having such important paperwork to do all the sudden -the sort he’d shuck off on Shockwave prior- and leaving Optimus to endure his frequent company.

Which wouldn’t be so bad- Optimus couldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy the niche similarities they did share. Who else honestly thought tactical maneuvers was a fun subject? Or that the great wars the bigger mech had weathered made for interesting story time?

But the fact that he was spending hours lying uselessly around a cushiony little nest, accepting warm fuelings, Megatron’s personal literature, and allowing himself to doze to the sound of that baritone voice when there were bots upstairs working themselves to stasis -and not by their own doing- was just plain unacceptable.

“Don’t rush your recovery, Optimus. Your system functions need time to come back online- and to do that you need adequate recharge for all the cycles you missed. And fuel.” Megatron extended a servo to the pouting mech, holding a mesmerizing, swirling cube of Energon.

Optimus sat up, thoroughly reprimanded for acting like a sparkling, and peered over at the dazzling purple slush inside.

“And *that* is supposed to be adequate fuel?”

More than adequate- that was the problem. The ‘that’ in question was an Energon goodie, that much was obvious, and while still very unnecessary, he couldn’t help but wonder about its unusual contents.

Optimus reached for it and gingerly took a sip, finials pricked high upon his helm.

He savored the smooth, sugary gush, optics locked suspiciously on the terrible mech awaiting his approval. A smirk slowly forming.

“This alloy tastes like an Earth solution. Potassium permanganate?”

Very much not a thing a despiser of all things organic would keep aboard his ship.

Further more, no matter how good and sweet it tasted, a splash of medical grade human antiseptic had never occurred to him he might try as a junky little treat. How’d Megatron figure so? Where’d he even get it?

And why hadn’t he stopped taking sips already?

His pout was significantly less effective when plush lips were busy sucking down their fourth fueling in a cycle -and especially so, when it was laced with additives for substantially less health related reasons.

He should really stop accepting this kind of treatment. Maybe if he just reminded Megatron that frivolous expenditures had always been beneath him before Optimus’ self induced injury....

“I’ll fetch you another.” The larger mech said.

He turned towards the door and stopped abruptly to consider his own words. A momentary pause that was dismissed much too quickly for someone who once openly sang of the conquering of Autobot Tyranny and its desire to reduce his people to little more than giant, thoughtless pets, and then he was off to ‘fetch’ his drink.

Leaving Optimus almost inconsolably bewildered, and with a half full cube of treated Energon he’d hardly made a dent in tilted towards his lips.

The absurdity of Megatron practically self proclaiming himself Optimus’ new errand boy seemed to bring him to his senses a bit.

Was Megatron.... coddling him?

Coddling *him*? Optimus Prime?

And also, *Megatron* and *coddling*?

No, no, no, no. Now he was just being an idiot.

First of all, the frequent playfulness in their interactions -yes, he could admit their constant taunting of the other was hardly the stuff of unbridled hate these days- didn’t exactly mean he’d earned himself any special privileges. Optimus was still an inconvenience to him, put here in a measly attempt to keep some control over the affairs of adventurous, destructive war machines in the wake of a shaky truce.

It wasn’t like Megatron’s interest in him went farther than Optimus’ ability to offer him challenging conversation and fresh perspective (on matters he apparently wasn’t being taken seriously in managing here either. Surprise).

And those were Optimus’ own thoughts exactly on the dangerous ‘Con. Megatron was a fun challenge -now that he wasn’t hellbent on his destruction. He was a welcome change to Optimus’ stagnant life.

This surreal, shocking amount of care he’d shown on Optimus’ behalf -which was again, unnecessary- wasn’t anything as outlandish, as *impossible* as Megatron wishing to *coddle* him. To keep him safe and see him back to health once more. It was just.... he was just....

Optimus hadn’t a clue *what* he was doing. He only knew it wasn’t coddling for Primus’ sake. Though still very odd and very much a mystery -one that’d tear him apart at the seams until he had suitable answers. Make him question everything he’d come to know about the Decepticon leader and whether he was just an ambitious, presumptuous mech for even entertaining the idea-

And Optimus should *really* stop frying his circuits over all this and get some much needed recharge.

He sipped his cube with both hands, finally used to the sizable difference in the war class’ servos to his own. It was still warm and sweet, and it lulled him into a comfortable recharge, back down into the pillowy layers of his makeshift nest.

Happily oblivious to Megatron’s heated gaze when he returned with his fifth ration, taking enormous pride in having secured the little mech’s comfort. Though, one more sheet wouldn’t hurt.

——— ———— —-

He’d figured he’d survived the full insanity of his situation and came out on top when his subroutines reverted to his usual standard, and Optimus was able to go more than a few hours without rest again. It wouldn’t be long before he was his old self, and he’d be cleared for the bridge.

So why now, when he was capable of walking himself over to the washroom for solvent showers and fuelings cut to twice a cycle again, was Megatron ten times harder to get rid of?

Optimus couldn’t swing a thigh over the edge of berth before Megatron was subspacing his datapad and hurrying to his side. Offering a hand to take.

“I’m not completely dilapidated,” Optimus mumbled -which he never had been.

“You don’t have to worry about me falling apart if I walk to the mess hall.”

“Why are you walking at all?” Megatron countered and sounded ever so slightly annoyed at the prospect.

Like having a mech who was capable of getting up and walking around to fend for himself was more annoying than having an independent bot with near perfect functioning lying uselessly in his berth.

Megatron was perceptive, calculating. He could see that Optimus was doing fine now, and it was more than a little shocking that he hadn’t decided it time for him to move on and resume their work like normal honestly.

Optimus thought it time he ask him such.

“I can’t thank you enough for watching out for me,” He began, even taking the servo offered in a gesture of goodwill.

“But I’m good as new -more or less. I can handle myself from here on, so-“

“Allow me to see you to your destination.”

Optimus was cut off, and that was as much a sign as any that Megatron wasn’t leaving this up for debate. Which was *odd*, but fine with Optimus. He liked his company when it wasn’t centered around him being babysat like a mechling.

Optimus dipped his helm and shrugged.

“Fine. Maybe we can get some work done while we walk. I’d like to know where we stand with the crew on Kleese now. Are they receiving full necessities? I’ve noticed you war frames don’t prioritize medical leave in the event of an injury.”

Megatron would like to shake him unconscious and explain to him how that was the greatest hypocrisy of the seven centuries when he awoke.

He walked with Optimus side by side, watching him from the narrow corner of his optic. As if he thought Optimus might be about to bow over and faint any moment. The smaller bot tried not to grind his denta together too loudly.

“Everyone is accounted for, all resources at their disposal, and communications have not been met with interference. They have orders to explore further.”

“But they have access to the home ship at any time?” Optimus asked, as he began to tread a little more slowly.

“What if they go too far?”

Megatron seemed to find the idea amusing.

“You are the only civil frame in our ranks, Optimus. A war frame is capable of amazing arduous feats, immeasurable to the strength of your little engine.”

Not so immeasurable the most powerful of their class couldn’t be beaten down with the Magnus hammer, firstly.

And secondly, ‘part of their ranks’?

“I’m not actually assigned to a position in your military.” Optimus pointed out, finding it a bit difficult to say so. Why was the room getting darker?

Megatron only sighed whimsically.

“Unfortunately, no.”

‘Unfortunately’?! Optimus gawked.

He would argue that the council couldn’t wait to get rid of him, and here his former enemy was acting like he’d make even a decent fit among a lot of cut throats and thugs able to work through recharge and survive whole missing sensory circuits without shedding a tear.

“However,” Megatron continued, unconcerned with Optimus’ inner turmoil.

“You’ve certainly made a place for yourself here. You’re practically one of ours now.”

Optimus went very quiet then, worried the affects of his self induced injury had somehow become contagious and spread to Megatron to damage his processor. Did he hear himself right now?

“Well,” Megatron began, voice deep and thoughtful. So low it was unlikely Optimus was entirely meant to hear his inner musings.

“I consider you so. I’d be a fool not to claim you as quickly and thoroughly as possible.”

“Excuse me?!” Optimus wheezed through his vents. He hadn’t even realized when they’d come to a stop, but that’d been enough of a gut punch to send him clutching at Megatron’s armor like a lifeline.

“You’ve pushed yourself too far, little one.”

Optimus opened his mouth to hiss indignantly at the pet name, and immediately devolved into a coughing fit. His grip loosening, as he curled in on himself.

“I’m calling Hook.” Megatron hummed and almost sounded panicked, but the single palm wrapped around Optimus’ waist, pushing his weight into the bigger mech’s felt calming and sure. Promising the other his grip wouldn’t slip in the slightest.

Beyond feeling like there were slivers of glass cutting at his intake, Optimus decided Megatron’s rather overbearing approach to him as of late wasn’t such a bad thing. If he hadn’t been here, Optimus would have been stuck struggling to vent for however long until someone came walking by. And if it had been Cyclonus who’d found him in this scenario, he wouldn’t have gotten the appropriate care he’d needed.

He let the dizziness blur with his sudden exhaustion and was soon fading into unconsciousness against a sturdy chest plate.

——- ———— -

Optimus woke to that familiar warm servo draped across him sometime later. Now waring the effects of a system flush on Hook’s command, trying to turn the room upside down on him, he had little choice but to listen quietly to the firm lecture Megatron had clearly prepared for him.

“Why do you push yourself? You understand there are consequences to such foolishness, yet you are optimistic the risk will prove worth the punishment. It hasn’t thus far.” Optimus certainly didn’t need reminding of that truth.

“It’s left you in an even worse state now. You must see how much progress this has cost you as opposed to have simply *waiting* until you were fully recovered. Why push yourself?”

There was so much disappointment in his tone, and the little bot couldn’t believe how that could feel more miserable than his aching tanks.

Optimus felt like a bigger idiot than when he’d boarded that ship for Archa Seven.

He was blessedly spared the awful, crushing force of his embarrassment by a system alert to purge. He jolted against the servo pinning him down, but the warning passed as quickly as it came. Faulty code from the flush- it was doing away with contaminants on its own without the need purging. Which means Optimus would just have to lie there uselessly, absolutely swimming in nausea, and endure the seething mech at his side while he fought random alerts to purge his brain module out.

“Sorry.” He croaked. He was only sorry Megatron was the one having to see him act a fool.

He surely made a pathetic display, as Megatron’s other servo came up out of the purest sympathy he hadn’t known him to possess to smash his cheek plate into the palm of his hand, cradling the side of his helm. Thumb stroking a finial. Optimus shivered.

“I doubt it.” Megatron finally said, and he’d be right.

Optimus had had a job to do, and recharge hadn’t been such a priority. He was much less likely to stand by that now, though, if it meant he’d be withering away in Megatron’s berth for eternity.

He’d rather be here on more pleasant terms.

Or not at all.... Definitely not at all.... yeah... uh...

“Who convinced you to take such little care in yourself, Optimus? Who put it in your processor that you matter so little? *It is appalling*, you understand?”

Optimus would tell him ‘nobody’, if he had half a mind and none of this dizziness making his helm spin. Mostly because he wasn’t even worth most peoples’ processing power.

But without the privilege of good sense and a throat that wasn’t aching with untapped emotions, Optimus simply shrugged and confessed, “I think it’s kind of obvious.” And clung a little tighter to that servo keeping him grounded.

He couldn’t tell what Megatron thought of that- whether it was disgust at the self pity or anger that a mech he apparently considered quite capable and intelligent would let such doubt overwhelm him. His optics kept shuddering, and in the dark, Optimus could barely tell which way was up without Megatron to hold him there.

But a rumble came from a powerful chest above him, rattling through his frame and filling him in a terrifying way for the possessiveness with which it spoke. He leaned into the palm at his cheek and basked in it, thoroughly surprised to find Megatron so doting for his unbecoming confession.

“If that is so obvious, why am I here? I, who wouldn’t waste my time on anything so ‘unworthy’?”

Megatron’s servo slid free to stroke languidly down Optimus’ middle. Seemingly fixated on the blades of his grille like the first time he’d taken him to berth.

And in a voice much deeper than Optimus was sure he’d ever heard it, lulled him into a quiet recharge with the softest confession of his own.

“Your worth isn’t measured by my infatuation, mind you. You are simply enough as you are, Optimus. You.... matter.”

Whether that was true or not, Optimus could hardly hope to deny so. It felt too good to hear it, but especially when it’d been Megatron to say it. Even if he sounded quite out of his depths.

He’d never know Megatron simply felt there were no words to convey the true importance of the brilliant little mech he’d stumbled across by dumb luck. This mech that deserved higher praise than one lowly lord could hope to give him.

——— ———— -

Optimus drifted in and out of recharge, offered plenty of fuel and warm words whispered in his audial between them. A few stabs at the foolishly fearless mech that had once challenged Megatron to a battle back on earth when he was so easily defeated by recharge, too. Optimus had just enough energy to sass back with talk of the pitiful space bridge debacle.

Having turned over to low prone at some point, it earned him a gentle caress along the place between his shoulders, and he was forced to hide his burning face in the hoards of blankets, willing the flutter in his spark to recede with the tension Megatron dutifully rubbed away there.

He’d deny up and down the way his engines purred at the generous touch. Soaking the foreign attention up quicker than he had the Energon.

Megatron’s affections were their own abundant source, apparently, and Optimus felt blessed to be their receiver. Finally allowing himself to give in and believe himself absolutely worthy of this explicit care. Humming and stretching when a particular spot was pushed into just so, turning him into little more than a puddle of mech.

“Roll over.” Megatron ordered, unwilling to entertain protests of any sort. So much so that he took the smaller bot by the hips and flipped him himself.

Optimus felt awash in the sensations of those battle worn hands against his chassis, undoing decades of stress. Pawing at him until his frame felt anew and free of ages of wear. Processor, too.

————— —————

He wasn’t surprised to see the ex warlord in remarkably better spirits when the illness had finally passed, and Optimus had returned to his now substantially more esteemed position. If only because Megatron knew he was taking care to get that precious recharge going forward- in Megatron’s berth, no less.

Optimus took the junky Energon treat the ‘Con shamelessly offered with all the grace of an overprivileged grunt receiving the special treatment of his high commander could. Bringing it over to sip happily from atop his perch on the throne’s armrest, finials flicking at an incensed Cyclonus marching by.

———- ——————-

This is disgustingly fluffy, I know, but I fought against the much worse fluff crimes I am capable of to spare you. And myself. I have to stop outing myself like this.

🤍Stranger, thank you, because this message was so amazing, and I want to give you something in return for allowing me to splurge and humiliate myself appropriately🤍 Being sick was worth it to scribble this thing out and just vent.

[my-writings-and-musings]

MTMTE Headcannon Prompt

Enemy forces hack the Lost Light and deactivate the atmospheric controls, leading to a slow loss of oxygen in the hopes the damage to the ship's "pet" will give them an edge. While the rest of the crew struggles to fight off their attackers and restore these critical systems, the bot(s) you've come to love stays by your side as a guard while begging you to remain conscious, growing ever more panicked as you begin to fade... Until you're saved just in time, and then they're left grappling with the fact they nearly lost you.

(A lot more dramatic than my first prompt certainly, and way more involved so I can only do two bots per post... But I'll get to them all!)

Part One: You're Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Rodimus

·You're chilling on the mess of blankets he uses as extra insulation in the berth, debating which movie you'll watch with him when he returns, when the ship gives a rumble. At the lack of emergency signals that follow, you assume something has just bumped against the shields, which happens so frequently you only shrug.

·Elsewhere on the bridge, Rodimus receives a taunting message from the enemy ambush, bragging about how impossibly easy it was to crash key programs on the Lost Light, like the air filtration system... which will make things awfully difficult for his pet as oxygen has started to leak. He goes from aggressive bantering to obvious horror, putting the pieces together just as a loud series of distant rumblings marks the deactivation of the filters providing the oxygen you need to survive.

·For once his commanding officers all know what to expect in unison, allowing them to take over the bridge when he abandons it in a desperate rush to your location, his pounding pedes leaving tire marks in his wake as he stumbles into a frantic transformation to cross the distance as fast possible.

·Unable to reach you on any channel, he loses all focus of his surroundings before skidding to a tumbling halt before your shared quarters, calling out your name and activating his scanner as he registers dangerously low and still dropping oxygen levels across the ship.

·You're unaware of anything amiss as you continue to relax, but that's mostly due to a growing fog of confusion settling over your thoughts and senses. It's so dense that it has already made you incapable of noticing that the air is unusually stale, and your befuddlement only grows when he barges in like the place is burning down, moreso than usual.

·Scooping you into his arms, his relief at seeing you alive and conscious turns to terror when he realizes you've already begun to suffer the effects, as your bleary smile and dizzy demeanor make clear. He doesn't need to be a human doctor to know you're already in a bad way.

·Just as he is halfway through an explanation you barely understand, he receives a communication through restored channels from the other commanding officers warning that the ship has been boarded by enemy forces, at which point he resolutely declares that nothing will reach you so long as his spark has so much as a flicker left. In your inability to grasp the danger his steadfast vigilance is heartwarming.

·A defensive unit is posted outside for your safety, but as the battle rages through the ship and oxygen levels continue to fall, he stops focusing on the invasion. Instead he cradles you and encourages you to be still and quiet while he tries to keep up a one sided conversation to keep you distracted, knowing that what oxygen remains must be rationed.

·For the first time in his life he can't fake a smile no matter how badly he tries, the sight of your increasingly strained breaths and fading eyes drawing tears to his optics and eventually forcing him to his knees as his meandering words turn to soft pleading, his voice cracking as he alternates between begging you to stay with him and apologizing for being unable to save you.

·As you hover over a warm blackness you're far too disoriented to be as afraid as you should be, and instead you offer comfort at the sight of the bot you've come to adore so readily, murmuring your love even as he gently shushes you and tears begin to fall down his face without reservation.

·Though the battle turns in favor of the crew and the room you're in is spared attack, the atmospheric systems remain inoperable for what he knows is too long, and the ticking seconds match the fluttering of your eyes as they try not to shut.

·You know he wants you awake, but you're so incredibly tired and he's so impossibly comfortable, why can't he just let you have a nap? It's not like you won't be able to see each other after, so why does he look so sad? You wish you could tell him not to be sad.

·When you inevitably slip into unconsciousness he's beside himself, panicking but doing everything he can to gently wake you up, tenderly rubbing his thumb over your cheek to encourage you to stir. The crushing grief just beginning to take hold is so great he actually doesn't notice he has a message until it forces itself through.

·He's barely able to recollect the conversation he has with Ratchet, save the order to get you to the medical bay, where they've restored just enough functionality to produce oxygen on a one human scale. The bots who saw him running afterwards said there was little more visible than a fiery blur with you in his arms.

·Cybertronian engineering combined with carefully studied earth medicine provides you with the air you need just in time, dredging you up slowly from deep unconsciousness to the sterile taste of a ventilation mask over your face. Your discomfort mattered precious little when you behold Rodimus at your side, servo cupping your body as his face still shines with tears.

·It takes moments for him to break when you're left alone together, his shoulders shaking as the helplessness continues to haunt him, and his apologies blend together in an endless tangle of self depreciation.

·As you've come to do when he's overwhelmed, you encourage him to come closer, hugging his helm to your smaller body as if he's laying it in your lap. The oxygen mask limits you, but you don't let it stop your quiet shushes as you stroke his crests. ·Without delay you slow his tears, reassuring him that everything is well until exhaustion claims him and he falls asleep at your bedside.

·The experience doesn't leave him for some time. Both in public and in private you catch him paying close attention to you, and you know he's double checking your breathing, still worrying that such a simple thing could steal you away so quickly.

· Finally, you take him aside and pull his hand to your chest, indicating the rythym of your body and how you know it better than anyone. If he can't trust the world, then he should at least trust you, and with that newfound perspective he starts to heal as well. Because he trusts you more than anything.

Magnus/Minimus

·You're in the berthroom the two of you share, distracted by preparations for what you hope will be a simple but relaxing night in. In the well protected room it's impossible to hear much going on outside, especially with you focused so intently on making everything just the way he likes it.

·He's in his office and armor completely focused on some important paperwork when he receives an urgent warning; they're being boarded, and the attackers have already managed to offline several key atmospheric regulators and security systems. The thought initially only spurs him to begin defensive measures, but the moment he sees that oxygen levels are starting to drop, protocol ceases to exist.

·In battle he's always been a foe to be reckoned with, but now he's like a force of nature barreling through the ship, and the single unit of enemies that tries to confront him becomes little more than scattered body parts before they can let off a single shot. His fury is so overwhelming even his allies flinch when he tears past them to reach your shared quarters. He can't contact you by communicator, and he's uncertain if it's due to downed channels, or something he can't bring himself to consider.

·The door stands little hope when he tears it open in rage that's quickly evolving into panic, shouting your name as a flood of terrifying possibilities torture him with all the ways you could already be suffering. He has no idea how much or how little oxygen you need, and for all he knows the deprivation is already killing you, making you suffer...

·It takes all of his incredible self control not to embrace you when you stumble into view, dizzy and weak as well as quite confused, and he realizes things are far from okay when you lean on his offered hand to prevent yourself from falling. You actually laugh thanks to the delirium, finding it adorable to see the big tough bot diving to catch you.

·He can't bring himself to be mad at you not taking this seriously, but he's certainly frustrated at himself for being absolutely helpless to assist you, even if there's nothing he can do in the midst of the chaos with no communication options in working order.

·Ever the tactician, he barricades the two of you as effectively as he can, knowing that you're vulnerable enough now that moving you through combat could be fatal. The entire time he's multitasking on a million fronts; trying to keep you still on the berth to conserve energy, working to reestablish communication with anyone, and internally punishing himself for not having prepared some kind of protocol for this situation.

·Due to his personality you're quite accustomed to seeing him worry, but you're hardly comfortable with it, and on reflex you keep trying to comfort and reassure him despite your weakening state. His insistence you stay resting makes as little sense as his explanations, all you know is he needs help.

·Every minute drags by like an eternity, yet his skill at spotting details makes it impossible for him to miss the toll each one takes in real time. Your breaths are growing more strained, your body is settling down onto the berth with less resistance, and your eyes are meeting his with increasing dullness.

·When you can't even sit up a part of him simply... snaps. All but throwing off his armor, he brings you into his arms in his base form, not admitting but knowing that if he can't save you, he wants this to be the last way you see him.

·In a pleasant haze of fading consciousness, you initially smile at the sight, having always preferred to see him as his true self as often as possible. You'd playfully pointed out how he still towered over you in this form so many times...

·With no traces of battle growing close, or of help arriving before it's too late, he can't help but lose sight of the world around him in its entirety. What does the universe matter if you won't be in it? What good are his abilities if he can't save you from something so apparently benign?

·Never before has he cried in the presence of anyone, so to see tears in those beautiful red optics gives you considerable pause, even as your vision grows dark around you. Something must have been terribly wrong for him to cry, but you care far more about comforting him than finding out what.

·Despite the weight in your limbs, you reach up as he holds you close to weakly cup his face, shushing him with a promise he'll be okay before slipping into darkness.

·It's a stroke of fortune that Ratchet arrives when he does, catching the smaller mech holding your limp form tight as his shoulders shake in silent sobs, as the broken bot would have never allowed your loss to go unpunished. He's bordering on incoherent himself when the medic explains that the attack has been stopped, and that while communications are still down, he was able to isolate a portable supply of oxygen for you.

·It's almost too much for him to believe when the mask is laid over your face and life returns to your peaceful form. The medic confirms you'll survive, and while there will be a road to recovery, you shouldn't suffer any ill effects from the close call. He's torn between relief and still further worry.

·Had you not been saved, he's certain he would have donned his armor and annihilated each attacker personally, with little intention of living to fight another day... But as you recover in the aftermath, he instead throws himself into crafting regulations, trying to come up with a series of safeguards and rules to ensure this can't happen again. He drafts it all at your bedside.

·When you wake up he's effusive in his apologies. How could he not have predicted this? It's such an obvious possibility! He takes your tiny hand in his as he alternates between admonishing his tactical failure and begging forgiveness, forcing you to interrupt and quiet him down before he can say anything else against himself.

·You remind him that it's not his purpose in life to protect you, as he should know better than anyone your size doesn't mean you need constant protection. All you need is for him to be there, just as he is, which is what he's done.

·Only a few tears fall this time, and you're eternally grateful to confirm that they're from blissful relief. He doesn't know how you manage to always remove the weight of the world from his shoulders, but you do, and he'll treasure that more completely from now on.

[silkling]

Of Rules and Regulations

Of Moments of Life AU

———————————————————————————————————

Chase didn’t understand humans, sometimes. Chief spoke of the importance of following the rules, but fairly often the human let the citizens of Griffin Rock get off with very little punishment in regards to their rule breaking. Yes, he did ticket speeders and illegal parkers, but all too often he would allow people to break the same rule multiple times and would not increase the penalty, as so many human law books suggested was prudent. It confounded him. He did not understand. Were rules not important?

Chase knew they were. Rules were the pillars of a structured society. The Rescue Force, when it had still stood, had been built on rules and order. They had functioned best when the regulations and protocols had been followed…hadn’t they? Unbidden, the police bot found himself remembering Sigma-17’s encounter with the energon eater. He knew what protocol would have dictated, in that circumstance. ‘Do not cease the rescue operation, not until all other options have been exhausted and there is no chance of mission success.’

That was one of the Rescue Bot codes. Had they followed it, they would have pushed past the energon eater to follow the distress signal. Except….Chase knew now that the signal had been a false one. If they had not halted the rescue operation, then Sigma-17 would have continued to try and save bots that did not exist, and would likely have lost one, or more, of its members to the space beast. So in that circumstance, it would have been foolhardy to follow the rules. But…that was an exception, wasn’t it? Surely it was best to follow the rules at any other time?

He was so caught up in his own processor as he went down to the bunker that he didn’t notice when his path led him directly into that of another. Chase let out a surprised shout when he impacted something hard and large, and the force of it, even if he hadn’t been walking fast, enough to make him stumble back and almost trip over his own pedes. Thankfully, a large hand caught his shoulder and righted him quickly. He looked up to thank who had caught him, thinking it to be Boulder since no one else had hands close to that size, only for his voice to die in his throat when his optics met the red gaze of Dreadwing.

“Ah. Dreadwing.” he said, shuffling awkwardly. Dreadwing was another case that made Chase’s processor ache.

Again, he knew what protocol would dictate about the Seeker’s circumstance. A jail cell until a trial could be held. But every time he tried to think of that idea, his spark ached and protested it, and he didn’t know why. It just…didn’t feel right. Dreadwing had done horrible things in the name of the Deception cause. He knew this. The Seeker had even admitted as such. Yet….he didn’t want to go see him punished either. He knew why the flyer had done the things he had. He didn’t understand, not truly, but his reasons had been just, even if his actions had not been. And given what Chase had learned of his Dreadwing and others like him had suffered when they hadn’t been under the Decepticon banner, well. Chase couldn’t see himself demanding recompense. It was hard to. Dreadwing was not a saint, he knew that. But…he wasn’t some violent, sparkles monster either.

“Hello, little one.” The Seeker’s deep rumble tore him from any further spiraling. “You seem troubled.”

Chase opened his mouth to deny it, but his vocalizer faded to static. It clicked as he forced it to reset, the Cybertronian equivalent of clearing one’s throat, and he sagged. “Perhaps.” he agreed.

He thought again of his confusion, and his processor all but screamed with discontent as it struggled to make sense of the data it had been given. He didn’t know who he could talk to about this. None of his teammates were as stringent about rules as he was, and he doubted the humans could grasp out protocol and regulations were practically a part of Chase’s core coding. They weren’t Cybertronian, after all.

Except…

Except Dreadwing had been a high ranking officer in a structured military for longer than modern human civilization has existed. He, of all those Chase could talk to, was the most likely to understand. But could he? The Seeker had once been a Decepticon, so would be even be willing to help?

His mind flashed to Blades, and the way the copter’s rotors had been happily fluttering as he told the team how Dreadwing and he had swapped stories of their brothers, and how the older flyer had taken the younger bot to the back of the island at night for in depth flight lessons. Dreadwing had been a Deception once, true. But he seemed more than willing to help Blades, and Chase found himself praying that that odd fondness wasn’t just for the copter bot.

“Dreadwing.” he straightened his spinal strut, meeting that red gaze head on. “If you would be willing, I would require your advice. There is a matter that is causing me severe distress and my processor is unable to understand the data I have gathered on the topic.”

Dreadwing simply stared at him for a moment, his right wing twitching in a gesture that Chase didn’t know how to interpret. He knew flyers were capable of communicating with their flight appendages. It was why Dreadwing was so attentive to every movement of Blades’s rotors. But he was no flyer, and he didn’t know what that twitch meant.

Thankfully, Dreadwing quickly seemed to realize this, because he instead dipped his helm. “I would be most amenable to help, little one. Perhaps you would prefer to sit somewhere comfortable? I sense this will not be a short discussion.”

Chase nodded his agreement, quickly leading the way to the lounge. He pulled over one of the bot sized beanbags for himself, settling into it comfortably while Dreadwing took a seat on the couch. After a moment of organizing his thoughts, he lifted his gaze. “I am struggling with my core beliefs and understanding whether or not they may be wrong.”

Dreadwing tipped his helm to the side. “I see.” he hummed.

Chase figured he likely would. The Seeker had had to recently shift his entire worldview of where his loyalties lay, after all. “I…have built my understanding of the world and my surroundings on rules. There are rules to everything, I have learned. Not just the laws that govern society, but strict rules of how certain things operate and function within the world. The rules of organic reproduction, for example, or the rules that bind Earth to a cycle of different seasons. These are all set rules that do not break.”

The Seeker hummed. “So I see. Then here does your issue lie?”

“I….” he trailed off, then reset his vocalizer. “Chief Burns consistently lets the people of Griffin Rock off with lesser punishments than he should, if he were following the laws of his society. Just this morning, when he should have given Mr.Harrison a much harsher penalty for once again causing a mass public disturbance, he let him off with merely a word of warning.” The cop bot sounded frustrated. “And there is also…” He looked down. “You. Protocol dictates you should be locked within a cell until such time you can stand trial. But I find myself disliking that idea and I have no desire or intention of actually following through on it. I am aware you have done horrible things in the past, yet my spark insists that you can be given a better chance to make amends here and with your freedom than locked away in a jail cell.” he finished, frustrated and angry with his own lack of understanding.

To his credit, Dreadwing let him finish before he spoke. “I believe I understand now.” he stared hard at the smaller bot. “Rules are important. You are correct about that. In a well functioning, proper society, rules create the pillar upon which order is maintained.”

Chase made a frustrated noise. “Then why-“

Dreadwing cut him off. “However. In such societies, there is also often a deep sense of community. That means there is an understanding among all those within that society that some of the rules that establish their land are more important than others. Vos operated under such a system. The Senate despised us for it, as it meant there were instances in which Vos’s children did not fit into the societal rules they had set for the rest of Cybertron.”

Chase blinked. “But what does that have to do with it?”

“In such a society, where some rules are deemed less important, it is also generally understood that if one breaks those rules they may not necessarily have to face the punishment written by the law as long as no one was harmed. Take speeding, for example. I know one of the citizens on this island does so consistently, and yet Chief Burns only ever gives him a single ticket.”

Chase jerked. “How did you-“

“You rant about that specific man very often, Chase.” the Seeker said dryly. “Now, in that instance, the Chief is in the right. He could ticket the human more, he could jail him for the night, but that would not help matters. Perhaps it would stop him, but it would also build a sense of resentment.”

Chase crossed his arms. “What does that matter?”

“It matters quite a bit.” Dreadwing sighed. “In a society built on a sense of community, like Vos was and like Griffin Rock is, it is not lack of total and complete order that causes things to crack. It is resentment. Vos, this island, they were, and are, both built on the backs of their children’s’ respect and regard for one another. Once that respect and regard is lost, so to are the foundations that make Griffin Rock a community.” he explained.

Chase blinked. “Chief…does not penalize the citizens of the island more harshly because they are a community?”

Dreadwing hummed. “Precisely.” he agreed. “Without the proper community, it would not truly be Griffin Rock. As such, the people of the island have an unspoken understanding that, so long as no one is harmed when something goes wrong or when someone breaks a rule, then it does no harm to let them off with a lesser punishment.”

“Or even no punishment at all?”

“Or even no punishment at all.” Dreadwing seemed pleased that Chase was starting to understand. “As for the second half of your concerns…I do understand that as well. You are correct. Any legal system would demand my incarceration. However, one must also look at the specific circumstances.” he leaned back. “I cannot tell you how you should think on the matters of my crimes and the penalties I should face. That is not a decision that is mine to make.”

Chase blinked, then sagged and nodded. “I know. And the fact that you are not trying to sway my opinion says much more about your willingness to make things right than any long term imprisonment could, I believe.”

Dreadwing chuckled. “Thank you, little one. I will do my best not to misplace your faith. Primus saw fit to gift me a second chance and the opportunity to make amends. I will still avenge my brother one day, but I will not squander what I have been given here.”

Chase smiled despite himself. “Good.” Then his expression dropped a little, and he looked down. “What about in societies that are not built on community? Are rules not important there?”

Dreadwing tilted his helm. “Hm.” he narrowed red optics. “That is a more complicated matter. If the society functions and all within it are content, then yes, I suppose the rules would be important. But that is not often the case. Before the War, Cybertron functioned under strict rules, but it was in fact those same rules that caused so much suffering.”

Chase looked at the Seeker in confusion. “I…was aware of the discontent. I knew the lower castes were struggling. But how bad was it exactly?”

Dreadwing tilted his helm up. “The root of the problems lay in Functionism itself, little one. It was a plague. The Rescue Force, by some odd miracle, was not affected by Functionism. They believed that as long as a Bot was willing to train, then any frame-type could be used in rescues, as there was not only one kind of rescue and some would require unorthodox frame abilities.” the Seeker sighed heavily. “However, the rest of Cybertron was not so lucky.” Fingers drummed against the couch, and the Seeker was silent as he considered his next words. “Your teammate, the little bulldozer? Had he not been a Rescue Bot, then the rules of Functionism would have forced him to be a construction worker, whether he wished it or not. And if he did not bend to his function, then the Senate would have punished him severely and they would have been allowed by law to do so.”

Chase went still, optics wide. He couldn’t imagine that happening to Boulder. He knew what sort of punishment Dreadwing was talking about. Anything from jail to…empurata. He shuddered as the thought crossed his processor. He couldn’t imagine Boulder, warm, soft-sparked Boulder forced to bare the markers of empurata. That penalty was too much. Even he had been aware of that much of the Senate’s darkness, even if he hadn’t understood how bad it had truly been.

“I….see.” he whispered.

And he was starting to. Rules had defined his life up unto now, but…his life had dramatically changed, and so had to the rules that defined it. Perhaps it was time he changed his own understanding of rules as well. He looked up to meet Dreadwing’s gaze, standing up from his beanbag. “I…thank you, Dreadwing.” he said gratefully. “I do not understand fully, but I believe I will eventually. You have given me much to think about. Your advise….it was much appreciated.”

Dreadwing too, stood. He nodded at the littler bot, and Chase found his spark was starting to hammer at the thought that this, whatever is was, was going to end. “Movie!” he blurted.

At Dreadwing’s confused stare, he reset his vocalizer. “I would like to share something of mine with you, now that you’ve shared your advice with me. If you’d be open to it. Blades has shown you his favorite Earth entertainment, and if you would not be opposed than I would like to show you mine.” he said, and despite himself he couldn’t keep the hopeful note from his voice.

Dreadwing seemed to catch on to his true intentions, because the Seeker had a knowing glint in his optics. There was a brief silence as the flyer considered, then his helm dipped in acquiescence. “I would be interested in seeing what it is that garners your enjoyment, young one.” he agreed, retaking his seat on one end of the couch.

Chase relaxed, and was quick to set up the movie and grab the remote. It was the first movie in his favorite series of detective films. This series wasn’t quite as silly as some of the others, and some of the crimes were genuinely thought provoking. Chase was hoping Dreadwing would appreciate the moral complexity. He moved to the beanbag as the movie started up, and paused to glance at the empty space next to Dreadwing. After only a moment of hesitation, he pulled the beanbag to the nook where it was usually kept with the others like it, then went to take the empty seat on the couch. Dreadwing only shot him a glance, but did nothing else before returning his attention to the film.

After the movie had progressed, Chase felt his frame shift slightly, instinctively seeking out the warmth and closeness of the larger frame by his side. His shoulder pressed into Dreadwing’s arm, and when he realized what he’d done he tensed and made to pull away. Only…Dreadwing didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the large Seeker only shifted his position, freeing up space for Chase to rest more comfortably against his side. After a second’s thought, the police bot did so, tucking in against the larger Cybertronian and enjoying the quiet closeness. Cybertronians were a social species after all, and physical touch was just as important to them as it was to the humans.

Dreadwing didn’t drape his arm around the youngling, as he did whenever Blades burrowed in close to him. He seemed to understand that it would make Chase more uncomfortable than relaxed, because he simply kept it tucked back so that Chase was leaning back on it as he curled into the Seeker’s side.

The movie progressed, and Chase found his processor settling more and more as time went on. Eventually, the usually loud data processing that flowed through his mind quieted to a gentle buzz, and he felt himself relaxing against the frame of the older Cybertronian he’d tucked himself into. He still had a lot he had to figure out, but now he was more certain of one thing.

He would enjoy having Dreadwing around. The Seeker wasn’t quite so bad, after all.

In fact, Chase thought, frame and processor at peace with each other for the first time since Sigma-17 had departed Cybertron on that fateful mission. In fact, I think I truly do enjoy having him here. He feels…he feels like family.

———————————————————————————————————

And here we have the second installment in the “of moments in life” AU! No Blades this time, but there is Dreadwing and Chase bonding! Chase is starting to accept that not all is black and white, and Dreadwing is starting to find a new place and purpose for himself. Also, he’s a dad now. He just hasn’t really realized it yet.

I hope everyone enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with it! There’s going to be more of this in the future, so if y’all wanna make sure you don’t miss the updates and whatnot, follow the “of moments in life au” tag.

I’ll see you all in the next fic. Until next time, friends!

[thanksjro]

Last Stand of the Wreckers, Issue #5: I Sure Hope You Didn’t Go and Get Attached to Any of These Characters…

We ended on a cliffhanger last issue, so let’s see what the lads are up to now.

Hm. That’s not great.

Overlord’s just ripped Guzzle in half for the fun of it. If you’re wondering why everyone’s outside now, it’s because he exploded the torture chamber so hard when he came in, it no longer exists. Kup doesn’t appreciate having one half of the Big Gulp duo torn in two, so he goes in for the attack. This doesn’t work out very well for him, as he has his head crushed between Guzzle’s upper and lower halves. This whole situation is a non-issue for Overlord, and barely distracts him from his goal of having Megatron show up to kick his ass. Impactor tries to have a big hero moment by shooting Overlord in the eye with his harpoon hand-attachment. Again, very little effect on Overlord; it doesn’t even seem to register on the same level as getting a little soap in your eye.

Back over with Ironfist and the Big Conundrum, Verity’s arguing that killing Impactor will kill the Wreckers- as a team, not in the literal sense. However, time’s running out, and Perceptor really doesn’t seem to be bothered by the idea of not having Impactor around.

She gets smaller every issue, I swear.

Verity makes her case to Ironfist, trying to play off of his fanboy status; the Wreckers are a symbol of hope, one that Ironfist himself created with his datalogs as Fisitron. Killing Impactor to make things easier for themselves destroys the illusion of a cohesive unit who can always be counted on when the chips are down. Too bad ol’ Ironfist knows Things™, and it’s actually Perceptor who’s swayed by her argument, which is interesting, given that he was about to vote Impactor into an early grave a minute ago.

Perceptor wasn’t always the cool, efficient sniper we see him to be in Last Stand of the Wreckers. He used to be a regular old science nerd, and a relatively talkative one at that. He wasn’t really built for a four million year war.

Then all that talking got him shot and he was left for dead.

He made some changes after that, both in body and personality.

Could his own experience with being forsaken by his peers for his flaws perhaps be influencing him here? Or am I, a reader and giant dork, just trying to justify a very quick backtracking on the narrative’s part, most likely due to page number limitations?

So they decide to fight. Then Pyro suggests they run. The “they” in this case doesn’t include himself. You remember how Optimus Prime’s big character quirk in every continuity is self-sacrifice? Yeah, we’re hitting on THAT portion of Pyro’s hero worship. It’s not exactly what he was hoping for in death, but it’s what’s got to be done at this point.

The others run off, and Pyro shoots the control to the door, bracing for one hell of a fight.

Holy shit, I forgot they had Fort Max with them! That scared the crap outta me.

There’s one last look at our hero before we go, and it…

Well, it sure is something.

Yikes. That’s a series wrap on Pyro!

Now it’s time for us to learn about what really happened on Pova. Turns out the files Ironfist had access to weren’t exactly virginal.

First things first, it was raining, and Impactor is kind of a dick. I mean, we already kind of knew that from what we’ve seen of the guy in the present day story, but this little scene really takes the cake. Springer had to basically beg him to stay with him; none of that “I’m not leaving you behind” nonsense. And the whole “shoot Springer through the midsection” idea? That was all Impactor. Springer doesn’t have a way to dampen the pain the way Impactor suggests, and doesn’t even get a moment to brace himself as he’s blasted more or less in half.

When Springer regains consciousness, he’s treated to the sight of Impactor and Prowl having a little chat. It turns out there’s a problem, and that problem’s name is bureaucracy. Pova is a protected planet, declared off-limits by the Neutrality Agreement, so any Cybertronian war business is pretty much null and void there. The fact that the Wreckers are there at all could have disastrous repercussions if the Decepticons catch wind of this and tell the Povians. They’ll have to let Squadron X go.

But it looks like Prowl forgot that Impactor’s a bad boy who doesn’t play by your daddy’s rules.

He walks into where they’re holding Squadron X, chained together into a circle on their knees, with their arms pinned behind their backs, locks the door behind himself, and executes every last one of them as Springer bangs on the door trying to get him to stop. This, obviously, puts a bit of a damper on everyone’s mood.

Even Whirl’s bummed out, and you just know that guy loves a good ‘Con-killing spree.

I guess the moral of the story here is Impactor kinda sucks.

Speaking of Impactor, Overlord’s currently stomping him to death as he holds Springer by the face. It’s honestly almost tender, the delicate placement of his fingers. It also reminds you that Overlord is literally twice the size of Springer, who, as a triple-changer, should already be on the tall side. Overlord is a big dude.

Springer’s still doing okay, because he knows that even if he doesn’t make it, the rest of his team will, and they’ll save the day and get all those Autobot prisoners off Garrus-9.

Ha. Haha. Oh, Springer, you naïve fool. You forgot that this was hell, didn’t you? Overlord already took care of the Autobot prisoners.

Someone really took their gun to that hanging guy on the left and said “fuck this dude in particular.”

Then the calvary arrives! With guns! And art tangents!

Surely things are looking up now!

Ironfist throws Springer a gun that’s about as big as he is- where did he get that?- and Springer proceeds to light Overlord the fuck up.

You don’t get the B-word pass at IDW unless you’ve already had your series truncated and the entire universe is about to get ended for a reboot. That’s just how it goes.

Of course, even the big boy gun isn’t enough to do much to Overlord outside of annoy him, and Springer gets his face ripped off for his troubles.

Now it’s just Ironfist and Verity left, and Overlord is very much looking forward to doing very bad things to both of them. Ironfist has a gambit though! That gun Springer had was actually firing deterrence chips into Overlord’s body, and now he’s just chock-full of the things. And since Ironfist has all of Aequitas in his head now- including the detonation codes- he can do this:

He blew Overlord’s lips clean off! The evil truly is defeated.

However, using this newfound power has costs- Ironfist is knocked clean out by a sudden pain in his head, eyes flaring and fizzing as he hits the ground, leaving Verity alone with Overlord’s flaming, animated endoskeleton.

Yeah no, he’s still not dead, and he’s still not fucking over Megatron, lamenting on how he just isn’t sure how he’ll fight him, now that he’s little more than robot bones. Verity has to be the one to break it to the guy that Megatron’s dead, and Overlord takes it about as well as he can.

I’m sorry Overlord, but at what friggin’ point were you promised ANYTHING from Megatron “Peace Through Tyranny” of Tarn? You were threatened, but that’s a little different than a vow to get revenge. Hell, that’s not even on the same level as as pinky-promise. What a baby.

Impactor ends the pity party by shooting Overlord with his alt-mode’s weaponry and then does a little something for Springer… by not ending Overlord. Nope, looks like the death of Springer finally let him see the error of his ways, and they’re going to bring Overlord in to stand trial, because while the guy deserves to die, Impactor doesn’t deserve to kill him. Maybe if more Transformers took this little idea to heart, they wouldn’t still be at war four million years and counting.

Impactor goes to radio for a ride, and Ironfist wakes up. It looks like everything’s going to be okay now.

Or not.

Yep, those weird brain-seeking bullets Ironfist had loaded into all the guns he brought on the trip were perfected after a disastrous prototype testing accident. THE accident, if you will. Prowl knew about this, and used it to his advantage, throwing Ironfist on the mission, with the intent that he’d be used to unlock Aequitas. Topspin, of course, caused the plan to change a bit, but it all worked out in the end.

Also, Springer isn’t dead. He’s pretty messed up, but he’s not dead. They’ve got Ratchet on it, it’ll be fine.

And thus we arrive at the debriefing, between Prowl and Ultra Magnus. Magnus is questioning just why Prowl had this mission sanctioned in the first place, if he was so very against the Aequitas trials while they were happening. The answer is simple: propaganda. If the Decepticons were to find out that the trials involved nothing but Autobot war crimes, and lots of ‘em, it would be the ultimate blow to the Autobot forces.

Ultra Magnus thinks that they should go public with the information, but Prowl disagrees. The only copy of Aequitas is left with Prowl, and while Ultra Magnus would like to trust that he wouldn’t destroy this info, the end result is left a mystery.

But you’ll have to read the sequel series to see just how that all turns out.

If Ironfist is dead, just who is writing up this narrative framing device for the issue? Why, it’s none other than Verity Carlo, using the power of the internet. I guess she has access to the Cybertronian internet now. Wonder who hooked her up with that. Probably not Ultra Magnus. Maybe Percy did her a solid as a thanks for surgically removing Overlord’s will to live.

Whether you want it to or not, I suppose.

This miniseries is a little dark, ain’t it?

Verity went to all the trouble to leave Earth and hide in the escape pods so she wouldn’t be abandoned, only to end up right where she started, with a heaping spoonful of PTSD to pair off with all the disappointment and lack of friends in her life. She watched a lot of people die on Garrus-9, and she’s in no way battle-hardened like one could argue the other surviving Wreckers are. All she has at this point is a blog she inherited from a nerd who accidentally committed a slow-burn suicide. I hope Perceptor will keep in touch with her, at least, seeing as he’s the only one who was also there and isn’t dead.

That’s the end of the miniseries proper, but not the entirety of the story. Up next, we’ll be looking at all the fun little extras Last Stand of the Wreckers came with.

[zeravmeta]

Hey so i was inspired by some of those fanservant posts and made one for Optimus Prime since im on a TF kick lmao

Servant: Optimus Prime / Servant Class: Ruler

Origin: Transformers Universe / Region: Cybertron, Earth

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Aliases: Leader of the Autobots, Orion Pax, Last of the Primes, The Thirteenth

Parameters: STR (A+++++) / END (EX) / AGL (B) / MP (E) / LUK (E) / NP (EX)

Class Skills: Magic Resistance (EX) / Rank of Prime (EX)

Character Info: In a far-off universe, on a far-off planet, a race of sentient machines were born from the planet’s own life, an ancient being named Primus who had transformed himself into the planet Cybertron. A Golden Age of peace had emerged, but eventually the corrupt politics that had developed over time ended up splitting the population between the Autobots and the Decepticons. The Great War was one so brutal that it had poisoned the planet itself, forcing both factions off-world in search of resources. In these dark times, a Prime would weild the Matrix of Leadership and ensure a peaceful future for all Cybertronians…

…Orion Pax was once just a clerk who worked in the Iacon Hall of Records, unaware of the great destiny that would await him.

Skills:

Matrix of Leadership A+: The very life of Primus shared with any bot who wields it, this skill works like a unique combination of Golden Rule, Imperial Privilege and Tactics. The Matrix chooses someone with natural leadership abilities and greatly boosts their parameters, and the affected bot can in turn inspire their allies even in their darkest hour. Such a connection to an ancient otherworldly being would mean that the chosen individual would qualify as Foreigner class (within the Fate Universe), but Optimus’ sheer willpower and belief in justice means he isn’t overtaken by Primus, not that the benevolent Primus would do so even if given the chance. Optimus’ own self-sacrifical nature, however, puts him in danger more often than not, having him take the blows intended for his allies.

[8->6 Turns][Increase NP Gain (20%-30%)(3 Turns), Increase Atk(20%-30%)(3 Turns) and Def(20%-30%)(3 Turns) and Restore HP(1500-2500), and Increase NP Strength (20%-30%)(3 Turns) for All Allies. After 3 turns, decreases Def(20%-30%)(3 Turns) and grants Taunt (1 Turn)(Demerit)]

Battle Continuation EX: Optimus is no stranger to death, unfortunately. His variable existence across the multiverse due to his status as Prime means he has died many times before, yet he always finds a way back to help his fellow Autobots.

[10->8 Turns][Grants Guts status (3 Times, 5 Turns, restores 1000-2000 HP)]

Cybertronian Warfare C+: Optimus has millions of years of military experience, and is equipped with an Ion Blaster and his trademark Energon Axe. However, his original status as a civilian bot lowers the rank. 

[7->5][(60%->90%) Chance to grant Evasion(1 Turn) and (60%->90%) Chance to Increase Atk(30%->50%)(1 Turn) for All Allies and (60%->90%) Change to decrease NP Strength(20%->30%)(3 Turns) for All Enemies]

Noble Phantasm:

Will Of the Primes - Optimus’ Resolve / Rank(EX)

Optimus Prime has an unyielding resolve that can never be shattered. With the Matrix of Leadership, Optimus can release an extremely powerful burst of Primus’ power that can eradicate any enemy. However, the true power of this pseudo Noble Phantasm is the large inspiration boost to his allies that can carry them through millions of years of warfare.

[Type: Arts][Increases Arts Card Effectiveness (40%->60%)(1 Turn) for All Allies and deals massive damage (800%->1200%) to All Enemies and (Overcharge Effect) Restores HP (1000->2000) for All Allies]

Bond Lines: 

Bond 1: ”Hmm…This world is certainly strange, however I do look forward to working with you.”

Bond 2: “I am…saddened. One as young as you working towards saving your universe, despite being so unprepared…Well, at your side you have many dependable allies. I can power down in peace knowing they have your back.”

Bond 3: “Hmm….’Master’ is such a weird thing to call you. How about I just call you by your name instead? [name]? A fine name. I’ve worked with humans before….What? No, my head doesn’t have a cockpit for you to ride.”

Bond 4: “…Did you know I used to work with Megatron? He and I used to be allies, before he succumbed to his own lust for power. We are arch enemies now…yet I can’t help but hope he changes for the better. Any living being has the capacity for change, even…even if they them self don’t believe it.”

Bond 5: “Ha! You can certainly hold your own. I can see I’m gonna be needed here for awhile, so I swear to you on my spark that I’ll stay as long as I’m needed. You are the hope for this universe, and trust me when I tell you I can understand the weight of that burden, especially on one so young. So…if you’re ever feel sad or lonely [name]…I’ll make sure to take you on a peaceful drive.”

Voice Lines:

(1): “A catchphrase? Well, I do have a battle cry…you wanna hear it? Well then, ahem: ‘Autobots! Transform and Roll Out!’…How was that?”

(2): “Is there any natural energon in this universe?…What? Magic? Well, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dealt with it…”

(3): “You wish to know about my people? Well…Let’s just say the list goes on and on…Though I do hope you can meet the other Autobots I’ve worked with one day.”

Likes: “What I like? Easy. Peace. I would wish that this world enters it’s own Golden Age similar to my own.”

Dislikes: “…Violence. I’ve had far too much fighting for one spark, much less all the other times I’ve needed to come back.”

Event: “[name], I’m sensing a distress signal. Let’s go!”

About The Holy Grail: “A wish granting device? Be careful with those, they only lead to trouble.”

Summon Quote: “My name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. I recieved a distress beacon….A human? Um, where am I, exactly? This doesn’t look like my Earth…”

Happy Birthday: “Happy birthday, [name]. Cybertronians live for a very long time, so we make sure to celebrate the lives of smaller organics.” 

(Mash Kyrielite(Pre-LB1)): “Hello there, young warrior. Do you wish to train today?…Haha, perfect! We’ll make sure you can leave a bigger dent in me than last time!”

(Mash Kyrielite(Post-LB1)): “Don’t lose heart, young one. I’m sure your powers will come back in time….Hm? A robot suit that lets you fight? You’re sounding more and more like an Autobot every day.”

(Babbage/Danzou/Mecha Eli-chan/Xiang Yu/Qin Shi Huang):”Ha! You’re Autobot material, all right!”

(Emiya/Emiya(Assasin)): “Sacrificing yourself for the cause is noble…but you’ve let yourself be consumed. I hope you can one day let yourself feel hope again. No matter the past, anyone can change.”

(Artoria Pendragon(Any Alt)): “I’m not sure why…but I feel a strange affinity with them….Hm? King Arthur? Excalibur? Wait, you can’t be serious…”

(Leonardo DaVinci/Nikola Tesla/Thomas Edison): “[name]…Please help me. They seem intent on…studying me.”

(Sherlock Holmes/James Moriarty): “[name], be careful. That shady individual has been following you for awhile now…Hm? A friend? If you say so…”

(Hijikata Toshizo): “…You are sick. I don’t think I’ve ever been as disgusted by an organic being as you.”

(Kiara Sessyoin/BB(Any Alt)): “[name], I advise caution. She feels…strange. I’m feeling a signature similar to Unicron from her.”

(Avenger Class Servants): “…You’ve been consumed by your righteous anger and grief…I just have this to say: Any living being has the capacity for change. I hope you can find peace with yourself.”

[transformersaesthetics]

Revenge of the Fallen

Hey Gang! Going a bit out of order today. I’ve been doing some more in depth research and I’m hoping to integrate that into the whole project soon. With that in mind, here’s ROTF! One of my personal favorite toylines, because of how experimental it was in terms of characters and alt modes.

    Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (ROTF) was the sequel to the blockbuster 2007 live action Transformers film. The toyline continued and expanded upon many trends and ideas present in the 2007 movie line, including the complexity of the figures, licenced, realistic alternate modes, and intricate robot mode detailing. The line was massive, even by the standards of the previous movie, which it rivaled in terms of both number of waves and new molds. Because of the sheer size, the line had many aspects and introduced new toy and aesthetic concepts, many of which would go on to heavily influence, not only subsequent movie lines, but arguably Generations as well. As a result of its scope, faithfulness to and expansion of concepts found in the first movie, its wide influence, and its willingness to take risks and experiment ROTF is one of the most fascinating movie lines overall. 

The aesthetics of the designs in ROTF have a great deal in common with those of the previous film. The handful of new Autobot designs have blocky heads, that are human enough to be sympathetic but alien enough to be intriguing.  Deceptions are once again spikey, alien and monstrous. These elements are not simply recycled, but expanded upon. ROTF Sideswipe in particular is one of the most visible deviation from standard Autobot designs. He features the decidedly inhuman elements of wheel feet and sword arms.(Abates, Sideswipe) Such dramatic alien elements are largely not found in the previous movie, despite the presence of such details as Jazz’s claws and visor, or Ironhide’s arm cannons. Mudflap and Skids also feature more inhuman designs. Skids has buck teeth and a left arm larger than his right, and both of them feature disproportionately large eyes, ears, and deformed heads.(FFN, Mudflap;Skids) These more cartoony designs are likely to reinforce their status as comic relief characters. Alien design elements are also apparent in the wildly inhuman designs of the trio of female bike transformers. These characters use a single wheel for robot mode locomotion instead of legs.(FFN, Arcee) Their waists are remarkably thin, and their backs often feature serpentine jointing.

    Most of the new Decepticons introduced in ROTF were Constructicons. The spiky, triangular detailing of 2007 movie Decepticons continues to be present in the Constructicons, but carried to an extreme degree. The already insectile heads feature even more and smaller parts, increasing their detailed appearance. Moreover, none of the Constructicons that received scout class toys or above or who had significant screen time in the film had anything approaching human proportions. Mixmaster has squat legs (when transformed correctly) and long, lanky arms.(FFN, Mixmaster) Long Haul’s toy, which does differ somewhat from his character model, has long, beefy arms and is quite tall.(FFN, Long Haul) Devastator himself is more dog-like than human, often portrayed shambling on all fours rather than walking upright. His head is much narrower than a human’s, and his forelimbs are much longer than his hind ones.(Abates, Devastator) 

Demolishor and Rampage in particular are not even humanoid; Rampage has massive forearms and claws, and a pogo stick instead of legs.(FFN, Rampage) Demolishor has two wheels stacked one on top of the other, and nothing that could even meaningfully be called a torso.(Apoc)  These design choices, combined with the already alien heads, make the Constructicons not only inhuman, but actively monstrous. Much like Bonecrusher in the first film, the proportions of Mixmaster and Long Haul in particular use the fact that they are humanoid, but twisted and distorted, to telegraph their monstrosity. 

    The Decepticons also explored a design avenue opened by Megatron and the protoforms of the 2007 film, namely cybertronians without an earth based alternate mode. The robot modes of these figures feature the elaborate metal plating found on other characters, but have no smooth sections of alternate mode kibble to interrupt it. Moreover, their vehicle modes are also largely comprised of this layered plating, leading some of them, particularly Soundwave and Ravage, to have somewhat unfocused alternate modes. (Servitor 2152, Soundwave) Many of the non-Constructicon characters introduced in ROTF fall into this category; Megatron himself, Soundwave, the Fallen, and Ravage all lack earth based alternate modes. The Fallen in particular was not actually designed to have a CG alternate mode, and never actually transforms in the film.(ChrisMcFeely) This results in his vehicle mode largely being a rearrangement of robot mode pieces to form something that vaguely looks like a jet. 

        Much as aesthetic choices in the 2007 film dictated complexity in the toyline, the extension of those choices in ROTF resulted in a completely unprecedented level of complexity. Many of the new designs featured very little alternate mode integration,  requiring the toys to perform involved contortions to conceal robot mode pieces. Some of the complexity also stems from attempts to produce more screen accurate toys of 2007 movie characters. In particular, ROTF Leader Class Optimus Prime is a famously complex mold that uses many little design tricks and moving pieces to create an impressively accurate robot. (MasterX2447)  Unfortunately, as with RID SideBurn, some of these toys became infamous for their unintuitive and fiddly transformation schemes. The aforementioned Leader Class Optimus is featured on both of Seibertron.com’s most complex transformer of all time lists.(william-james88) It takes me about ten minutes to transform mine.   Voyager Mixmaster is the most complicated non leader, non masterpiece toy that I have personally transformed or encountered, and also makes it on the Seibertron list.(william-james88) Even simpler toys, such as Demolishor and Lockdown, have an incredible number of joints and employ transformation schemes that often completely depart from traditional design choices. (Apoc;TX55)

    ROTF was, in some senses, a very experimental toy line.  This is primarily true about three aspects of the line. First, there was a remarkably high density of toy only characters in ROTF. Second, the range of alternate modes was hugely diverse, featuring everything from antique planes to Japanese tanks to household appliances. Third, the line occasionally hybridized Movieverse and other aesthetics, namely those of Animated and G1. 

ROTF features a remarkable proportion of toy only characters, both new molds and redecos. Indeed, almost the entire Scout Class assortment is toy only characters, perhaps because of scale issues.  Many toy only figures feature some variation on the theme of the softer, toyline unique movieverse aesthetic, as discussed in the 2007 movie essay. Figures such as Breakaway and Blazemaster feature remarkably high proportions of alt mode integration for movieverse figures, although their transformation schemes are quite complex.(Seichi)  Similarly, Dirge, who features a similar amount of integration but a less complex transformation scheme, derives much of his visual busyness from detailing, rather than being intrinsically complicated. (Seichi)  

In the previous movie toyline, redecos of molds used for on screen characters were largely confined to being a different or more accurate version of the character themselves, perhaps because characters like Barricade and Jazz were so recognizable. In ROTF, HasTak demonstrated a willingness to reuse these molds as toy only characters. Dead End’s deluxe toy is retooled from Sideways, and Swerve from Sideswipe.(Abates, Sideways;Sideswipe) There are also several redecos of 2007 line toys, some, such as Gears, are toy only, and some, such as Grindor, actually appear in the film.(Seichi)

ROTF features a tremendous and novel range of alternate modes. Stratosphere is the only transformer that has a mode approximating a commercial jet liner, Ransack turns into a biplane, Depthcharge is a realistic military boat, Brawn is a humvee,  Bludgeon turns into a Type 90, Scalpel turns into a microscope that doesn’t look like Perceptor, and Dirt Boss (happily, based on a Ken Christiansen design for the 2007 Activision game) turns into a forklift.(Seichi) None of these alternate modes had been used previously. More remarkably, these alternate modes don’t fall within one of the traditional categories of Transformer alternate modes, such as sports car or fighter jet; boat is in and of itself a fairly neglected group. Stratosphere and Brawn in particular continue the tradition, established in the first movie line by Incinerator, Stockade, and Landmine, of turning into non-transforming vehicles seen in the films themselves. 

 However, perhaps the single most outlandish altmode is held by Ejector, who turns into a toaster. This is one of the best things to happen in transformers, ever.(Your own eyes, with which you see the truth) It is plausible that this diversity represents HasTak playing with the opportunities afforded to them by a hugely successful toyline based on realistic vehicles and devices. It almost seems like they used the public’s willingness to purchase anything associated with the movies to experiment with novel directions for the brand. Many of these figures are Scout class or toy only characters; for these, HasTak seemingly leveraged the design freedom afforded to them by the lack of an existing character model. 

ROTF also featured a remarkable hybridization of movieverse and other aesthetics, namely those of Animated and G1. Unlike the 2007 line, ROTF featured many deluxe class figures who were references to G1 characters and who were not in the movie . Thrust, Dirge, Gears, Brawn, Blazemaster  and Smokescreen were all references to G1 toys. (Seichi) The voyager figures Long Haul and Mixmaster are also references, although they were involved in the film.(FFN, Long Haul; Mixmaster)

 However, Deluxe Lockdown and Voyager Bludgeon are the most intriguing reference figures. Deluxe Lockdown is a very direct reference to the Animated character of the same name.(TX55) Both his robot and vehicle mode appearances are heavily based on the appearance of his namesake. Indeed, he shares even absurdly specific traits with the Animated toy; both are significantly taller than the rest of the toyline, and both can exchange weapons with the deluxe Ratchet of the same line.(TX55) Although his intricate detailing indicates a movieverse origin, he also features traits from animated. Lockdown has large blocks of a flat color, mostly on his legs, and the front end of the car, especially the headlights and the grey spikes at the front, are more cartoonish than standard for a movie figure.(TX55) 

Voyager Bludgeon, on the other hand, is often considered the definitive “Generations” version of the character, even by HasTak themselves; the design heavily inspires many of his appearances in the first IDW G1 comics, and is the direct basis of his G1 self’s appearance in Transformers: Legends, Earth Wars, and Forged to Fight.(Octopus Prime, Bludgeon) Moreover, while there have been many other homages in the form of a Timelines figure, a RID 2015 figure, and even a Prime Master, there has not been another attempt at a Generations Bludgeon.(Octopus Prime, Bludgeon) However, retools of the figure have been used in the Generations line, and in Generations inspired lines like Takara’s Cloud and the 2010 line, to represent various characters.(Octopus Prime, Bludgeon) While the toy features a comparatively complex transformation, and, in places, intense mechanical detailing, it also features many Generations style elements. These include detailing designed to evoke the lines between plates of metal found in real vehicles like airplanes. Most significantly, his torso, limbs, and head sculpt mostly lack the signature movieverse Decepticon sharp/triangular bits. They are instead simply generically robotic, and therefore able to fit within Generations. It is intriguing to note that the figure resembles a concept submitted by artist Don Figueroa during the Unicron Trilogy, perhaps explaining its somewhat incongruous aesthetics.(Octopus Prime, Bludgeon)

ROTF broke with the previous movie line in terms of size class. The Real Gear robots assortment was replaced by more conventional scout class figures, meant to represent smaller robots that largely transformed into traditional vehicles.   Scalpel and Ejector are reminiscent of the Real Gear Robots line, in the sense that both their alternate modes are real life appliances.  Moreover, Ejector is a reference to a scene in the film where the Allspark once again animates household objects, much as the Real Gear robots were.   On the other end of the size spectrum, ROTF introduced the Supreme Combiner class, only used for a toy of Devastator. It was formed from six vehicles without independent alternate modes.(Abates, Devastator) It retailed for 100 USD, and paved the way for the subsequent Titan class, introduced in 2013 with Metroplex.(Octopus Prime, Metroplex) 

Another novel size class introduced during ROTF was the Human Alliance class. A touch larger than voyagers, these figures were somewhat in the style of Alternators, having accurate car modes, detailed interiors, and opening doors.(Sunjumper) In a new twist, these figures came with roughly to scale, articulated human minifigures, based on characters from the film.(Sunjumper) These figures also came with weapons that the human figures could sit on or interact with. Since there was some effort made at scale, smaller figures like Mudflap and Skids came with supplemental transforming figures, namely small versions of Chromia and Arcee.(Sunjumper)

Like in the previous movie line, HasTak moved to have figures of several core cast members at various size classes. Ratchet got a new mold deluxe toy and a reissue of his first movie voyager, Optimus got the aforementioned leader figure and two reissues of his first movie toy, and Bumblebee received three releases of a single deluxe mold, one of which was a heavy retool, a Human Alliance figure, and the Ultimate Bumblebee figure, which was full of lights and sounds and had a size class unique to itself.(Servitor 2152, Bumblebee) All of these characters also received legends class figures, which fall below the scope of this survey. 

ROTF featured a gimmick somewhat similar to the Automorph of the first movie toyline, Mech Alive.(Deceptitram) In essence, if part of the figure was moved, another part would move. Generally, this was achieved by adding gearing to the elbows of figures, which would move exposed gearing elsewhere, or by designing the thigh swivels to function off rods, which were exposed and had detailing. Examples include the Sideways mold and the Lockdown mold.(Abates,Sideways;TX55) The gimmick tended to be minimally invasive, and was present on a great many of the new mold figures. 

    As evidenced by its many mentions throughout this article, ROTF Leader Class Optimus Prime is one of the most influential molds to come out of ROTF, if not in general. For many years the definitive incarnation of the character, this toy was redecoed, retooled slightly, and reissued countless times with a huge number of different accessories.(MasterX2447) The most recent release of the figure occurred in 2017, under the Movie the Best line. (MasterX2447)  Design elements of the figure influenced many subsequent attempts to create a very screen accurate Optimus Prime, including the masterpiece figure. The combination of the remarkably screen accurate robot mode and the challenging transformation sequence served to make this figure a long time fan favorite. It is frequently mentioned on lists of the best figures of all time. 

    In 2008, the economy crashed, both in the United States and around the world. This had some financial impacts on Hasbro, and they were forced to tweak much of the ROTF line.(FFN,Rampage) Jolt lost paint applications, Demolishor’s treads were changed from being linked pieces connected by pins to a piece of rubber, and Leader Optimus lost planned finger articulation.(MasterX2447) Prices also climbed a few dollars at every size class, a change that would be permanent.(Singularity) It is unclear how much of this was because of the recession, and how much was because of other financial considerations at HasTak. 

     ROTF builds on themes established by the 2007 movie line such as the aesthetic, complexity, and realistic vehicle modes, and carries it to new heights. The aesthetics evolved, featuring more of their traditional hallmarks in a more exaggerated way. The figures went from remarkably complex to legendarily so, with some figures standing out as among the most complex of all time. Realistic vehicle modes were also extrapolated to include highly unconventional alternate modes, such as a biplane or a toaster. The line introduced several elements, such as the reintroduction of Scout Class toys, and the Human Alliance assortment, which would have a profound impact on later lines of movie toys. More than that, the willingness of ROTF to experiment, both in terms of new, toy only characters, new alternate modes, and novel fusions of radically different aesthetics, set the stage for some of the most interesting lines in history of the brand, namely the 2010 line, and allowed a movie toyline to have design influences that reached even Generations figures. ROTF is certainly one of the most interesting and influential movie lines. 

Works Cited

Abates et al. “Devastator (ROTF)” TFwiki. 

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Devastator_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

Abates et al. “Sideswipe (Movie)”. TFwiki. 

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Sideswipe_(Movie) Accessed 5/8/2020

Abates et al. “Sideways (ROTF)” TFWiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Sideways_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

Apoc et al. “Demolishor (ROTf)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Demolishor_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

ChrisMcfeely et al. “The Fallen/Toys” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/The_Fallen/toys Accessed 5/8/2020 

Deceptitran et al. “Mech Alive” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Mech_Alive Accessed 5/6/2020

FFN et al. “Arcee (Movie)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Arcee_(Movie) Accessed 5/6/2020

FFN et al. “Long Haul (ROTF)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Long_Haul_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

FFN et al. “Mixmaster (ROTF)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Mixmaster_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

FFN et al. “Mudflap (ROTF)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Mudflap_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

FFN et al. “Rampage (ROTF)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Rampage_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

FFN et al. “Skids (ROTF)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Skids_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

MasterX2447 et al. “Optimus Prime (Movie)/Toys” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Optimus_Prime_(Movie)/toys Accessed 5/8/2020

Octopus Prime et al. “Bludgeon (G1)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Bludgeon_(G1) Accessed 5/8/2020

Octopus Prime et al. “Metroplex (G1)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Metroplex_(G1) Accessed 5/8/2020

Seichi et al. “Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (toy)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Transformers:_Revenge_of_the_Fallen_(toyline) Accessed 5/8/2020

Servitor 2152 et al, “Bumblebee (Movie)/Toys”, TFwiki,

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Bumblebee_(Movie)/toys#Deluxe_Class_toys Accessed 5/6/2020 

Servitor 2152 et al. “Soundwave (ROTF)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Soundwave_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

Singularity et al, “Size Class”, TFwiki,

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Size_class Accessed 5/5/2020

Sunjumper et al. “Human Alliance” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Human_Alliance Accessed 5/8/2020

TX55 et al. “Lockdown (ROTF)” TFwiki.

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Lockdown_(ROTF) Accessed 5/8/2020

william-james88 . “Top 5 Most Difficult Transformers Toys” Seibertron.

https://www.seibertron.com/transformers/news/top-5-most-difficult-transformers-toys/36811/ Accessed 5/8/2020