#i wanted to make a rodimus design too..

[skywarpshydroflask]

hey girl

[earthsparked]

So you want to join the coterie, huh? And you want to know what you're getting yourself into.

You know I can’t take sides in command arguments, captain, you gently remind Rodimus for the fifth time this week. I have to honor my obligation to the entire crew.

Rodimus shoots you his best look that says “I’m very sad and betrayed despite having been the one to sign your contract in which this is stated,” and goes back to arguing with Megatron and Ultra Magnus.

Privately you think Megatron is in the right on this issue. Tragic realization: the mech who tried to murder your entire species on several occasions, actually has good leadership skills and knows what he’s doing. But when Rodimus manages to wheedle Magnus into seeing things his way, you can only sigh and double check that your little bag of tricks stored in your utility scraplet, Scrappy, is fully stocked.

It’s going to be one of those days.

It’s not all roaming the galaxy having fun. Sure, there’s plenty of that. You're going to see wonders that human eyes have never seen before. But it’s a lot more, too.

You wriggle backwards out of Brainstorm and Perceptor's mystery machine. You're covered in thick, black grease that’s making your skin itch; they didn't think to check for skin-safety before asking you to crawl into it and fix some finicky little part. You scramble to your feet, a stained shop towel in one hand and a half-used can of solvent in the other. The fumes in the enclosed space are making you a little high.

You kick the access hatch shut and stand back. Go on, Percy, try it now.

Perceptor frowns as the machine whirrs to life, but the screen still throws off an error message. You sigh and shake your head. Your sensitive ears that always made you hate the hum of ceiling lights and refrigerators, are telling you something still isn’t right.

Kill it, I can hear the pitch is still off. Fine, I’ll just take the whole damn gear assembly apart!

Don't touch any of the exposed wires! You'll undo all my work! Brainstorm demands. And adds, belatedly, Also it'll kill you. Why don't you humans have any decent insulation? Terrible design. I could do better if I created a species in my recharge.

You don't think you want to hear where this is going. Grabbing your tools, you crawl back in the mystery machine.

Don't worry about learning mechanical stuff, earth's systems are completely different to their engineering anyway. Besides, it doesn’t matter if you’ve never held a blowtorch in your life, you’ll pick the skills up along the way. A flexible mind and willingness to learn are the only real criteria for any potential coterie member.

You spring out in front of the big blue mech, making him very nearly step on you with one of his birdlike feet. You know he won’t - for all his jokes, there’s not a mech on this ship that would knowingly hurt you. (Knowingly being the operative word.)

I know what I smelled, Whirl. There’s no disguising it. You have a coolant leak. You got some of that guy’s windshield stuck under your plating when you threw him across the bar, didn’t you? And it’s punctured a line.

His single optic narrows in an expressive glare. So what, Crunchy? Why do you care? Move or I’m gonna have more than glass stuck in my mesh.

He slowly and pointedly brings his foot down toward you, humming the Jeopardy! theme music. You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow higher and higher the closer his foot gets, not moving. When it’s just within reach, you make a wild leap, grab for a safe handhold, and hang on for dear life. Whirl shrills an arpeggio of startled mech curses and tries to shake you off, but you cling like a burr.

If you don’t treat it, it’s going to get worse! It’s either me or Ratchet, Whirlybird, and I don’t throw things! I don't care that you got in a fight, I don't - whoa, watch the wall! - I just want you to not be in pain!

He decides after a few attempts that this is a fun game. You’re dizzy as hell by the time he announces Eight seconds! Fine, cowboy, if you want to be inside me THAT badly.

You roll your eyes and somehow manage not to lose your lunch as he sets his foot down and lets you climb off. Scrappy opens his mouth, letting you pull out your gloves and pliers from one of his compartments. You dig out the shards of glass and patch up his coolant line, feeling relieved as you wrap the punctures and clean away the dried coolant. Having one of your mechs hurt always bothers you.

Yeah, you’re gonna make the best friends you’ve ever had. The kind you’d do anything for. And I do mean, anything. They really overplay the whole "humans will pack bond with anything" stuff a little too much, because they don't quite get how our relationships work. But eventually you will find yourself pulling on wells of strength you didn't even know you had, doing things you never thought yourself capable of. Not for yourself, but for them.

You spit a mouthful of blood onto alien ground and try not to let the glowering mech see you shake. Adrenaline or fear, does it matter which? What matters is Tailgate’s down, hurt and in stasis. You got banged up, too, and stayed behind to guard him while the rest of the landing team pushed through the fighting. They wouldn't have left you or him if they'd thought any of the enemy mechs were still in this quadrant. But this one stomped out of the swirling fog, a hulking shape bristling with combat readiness.

He’s big, but so fucking what? You’ve been passed in the halls by mechs much scarier than this guy.

You flip the safety off your weapon - almost too big for you, but barely a pea shooter to a full-sized mech. At your side, Scrappy hisses and snarls, clacking his sharp metal teeth in threat. Just because he's been altered not to eat metal at random, doesn't mean he can't when given permission.

You're supposed to be a non-combatant, untouchable and marked as such by the coterie patch on your shoulder. At worst, you can be held hostage until your ship pays a ransom. But playing by those rules means standing aside and letting this guy do whatever the hell he wants to one of your mechs.

You glance at Tailgate and your heart hurts. When did this ten-foot-tall alien robot start to look so small and vulnerable to you?

Your eyes blur with furious, worried tears, before fixing on the approaching enemy. You step forward, as if your tiny body can shield the wounded mech lying behind you.

Whatever you came here for, you spit as more blood drips down your chin, you’re leaving without it. Go conjunx a belt sander, you torqueless wonder.

But it gets real when you get to the point where you understand, they’d do anything for you, too.

You’ve been cold forever. Can’t remember ever being warm. The endless white snows of the polar icecap of this godforsaken planet you’d come to investigate, was going to be the last thing you saw. One wrong step and the snowbank had collapsed, dumping you into a subterranean cavern. You’re trapped, alone, hypothermic. Your emergency transponder broken. You'd left your pet scraplet behind out of fear his thin armor wouldn't protect him against the cold. You're never going to see the little guy again.

Without him or the transponder, your mechs are never going to find you here. You’re never going to see earth again. They'll just add your name to the coterie's wall of remembrance, and some other human will be on your ship, caring for your mechs. You hope they'll understand how special they all are. That they'll learn Rung needs a listening ear sometimes, and Roddy's boasting often hides his insecurities, and Ratchet's got a soft spark under all that grumbling...

You think you’re hallucinating when you hear the voice. Wait. Is that a heat signature - it is! Hey, captains! We found them! Over here!

A few minutes or hours or ages later and Brainstorm, upside-down, lowers through the hole in the crust above. You blink muzzily. ‘m on the ceiling…?

Powerful hands pick you up, and you’re ascending. You don’t remember much after that, except the feel of being surrounded by titans that cared enough to come back. You came back for me.

Rodimus, warmest of them all, carries you to the ship himself. Tucked inside his armor, out of the wind and ice. Nestled right by his spark chamber. You dream of being pure energy, or of being wrapped in pure energy, or that you're one of two waves of energy dancing together with the joy of being alive. In a place where size doesn't matter, and metal and flesh don't matter, because deep down you're more alike than dissimilar.

You're as much theirs, as they are yours.

I wish I could tell you what to expect, but no one has the exact same experience. Not even within the same cohort. It’s going to be unlike anything you imagine it could be. Every day's going to bring new discoveries, new dreams. Sometimes, new nightmares. It's a big universe, and humans haven't even scratched the surface of what's out there. For better, or for worse.

The crate rattles again. Your breathing is loud inside your exo-suit. This bay is kept pressurized, but barely climate-controlled, and close to the ship's heat sinks so it's scorching hot in here.

Scrappy's cameras are transmitting every move you make to the mechs crowded around the monitors on the bridge. You've turned off audio, because between the scientists' incessant arguing and Swerve's fretting over you going into Cargo Hold 3 alone, you weren't able to pay proper attention to your surroundings.

Rattle-rattle. Shake. That container weighs several tons. It's bouncing around like it's a bouncy castle full of elementary schoolers.

No oxygen. Movement. It could be a scraplet infestation. Easily dealt with, for you. Which is why you're here and the mechs are on the bridge, or in lockdown in their quarters.

It could be scraplets. Intuition tells you it's not.

You touch the side of your helmet to activate your mic. Where did you say we picked this up from, again?

The arguing in the background dims as Ultra Magnus answers, disapprovingly, The records for the cargo manifest have been...misfiled. Ergo, we don't know.

You can see him in your mind's eye, glaring at Rodimus. Misfiled? More like Roddy lost them in the skyscraper stack of datapads in his office. If he didn't just set it down somewhere and forget where he put it. Can mechs have ADHD? Would some strategies that work for humans, be helpful for him? A thought to pursue at another time, when you're not maybe about to be eaten by a monster.

You click the mic back off before you can get drawn into the new argument that's starting over the co-captain's lack of organizational skills. And step closer to the shaking crate. No markings that you can read. No packing list on the outside. Does it look a little banged up? Rusted? Or is it the shaky light from Scrappy's headlamp as he hides behind your legs, making it look like that?

Every horror movie you've ever watched at Swerve's on movie night, comes back to haunt you. The aliens out in the dark have their own legends and myths. Some of them, you've learned the hard way, aren't only legends or myths.

Sweat drips into your eyes. Fuck it.

Are you going to play nice, or am I going to kick your ass off my ship?

You slam the augmented crowbar home and pry the lid off –

That's all I can say, really. The rest is up to you. Good luck. Maybe I'll see you out here in the stars. Lost Light ship's human, signing off.

[robolvrr]

private show ੈ ♡˳

galaxy girl. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　

swerve x fem! camgirl warnings: nsfw. mutual masturbation.

one.

tossing this thing, far, far away from the lost light wasn't sounding like that bad of an idea.

really. he even had the nerve to fumble through an lie, assuring the now ragtag bunch of contraband-loving thieves having witnessed the magic on it that it wouldn't be a worry. he had it.

besides, rodimus badges were on the rise and whether any of them liked to admit it, it would be nice to earn one. not that swerve has. yet.

this kind of secret if found out? would land them all in magnus levels of trouble.

.. so why is swerve here? locked up in his habsuite, fist crunched between dentae and perspiration sweating down his helm? he asks himself these questions too late, which is a bittersweet epiphany, because by the time he does self reflect its usually long past knee-deep in scrap.

this is all kinds of wrong. he's all kinds of messed up and this infatuation with earth and humans and pretty, pretty girls has gone too far because he isn't even one -

"shouldn't i be tellin' this to .. rung? rang?"

the mumble of course met with silence. that is, until the pitch black screen zaps to life, temporarily fading his crestfallen expression to a faint reflection on a light, persimmon backdrop. the backdrop being evidently your bedroom, which you decorated just for him he acknowledges.

right. he had it, alright. credits, that is, enough to get one more show.

a personal one where he didn't have to bump shoulders or awkwardly squeeze his legs together, swipe prompts away while arm to arm with fellow crewmates to unlock his interface panels.

before swerve can talk himself out of this stupid idea again, the dreamy call of his designation bursts from the speakers instead. starstruck, he panics. slams a digit in a flurry on the audio controls, wincing a moment with a mortified grunt.

thank the primes he's mute. he can only hope it wasn't loud enough to warrant an complaint from a neighboring bot.

"sweeeerve.. you there, sweetie? i know you said you were nervous."

nervous? him? oh, buddy if you only knew! he slowly shifts forward and you'd have wished his camera were on, because it'd have been so cute seeing how delicately he handles the dented laptop, worried lip slipping between metal teeth.

tap tap tap. it's so hard typing.

[ Lol. Just haven't done this before. ]

he isn't sure what to expect at first. you're propped up, comfortable atop your tower of pillows. satin hides most of your chest and torso, but a split towards the front with a crinkled hem suggest the lingerie you wear is meant to be opened. unraveled, like a present. skin glittering like those earth movies and their shiny vampires, nipples pebbled through tempting fabric.

you look like a princess. you look like a goddess.

"oh? i'm popping your cam cherry then, mm?"

it takes him a second to understand what you're saying. his face grows hotter. he actually has to fan himself with a vibrating servo - you're a tease, sheesh!

[ HAHAHAHahaha. I guess. ]

swerve wants nothing more than to slam his helm against the wall. please don't torture him like this. not before you even start.

as if your hear his agony, a giggle tickles his audials. you finger the soft opening of your nightwear, head tilted and lips pouted.

"alright, alright. i bet you're frustrated. but! i am a woman of my word."

frag, you're actually listening to him. a whiny part of him reminds that this is transactional and while it could shatter his confidence a tad, he's perplexed because you don't act like its just another job.

in fact, he's a little dizzy staring, watching you place both your hands near the wall behind you. then your legs are spreading, further and further and further, until he can see your glossy...

valve. cunt. pussy. the foreign words make his intake dry.

you're so fraggin' small. and he's bigger than you, way bigger, which isn't a feeling that graces his processors much. your small fingers, flirting with garters stuck tight at warm thighs. small mouth, huffing and panting while you work your.. you have a node?

it's so tiny. he has to squint to see it. blue visor hot enough to burn, his panel mechanisms move on their own embarrassingly fast, chubby spike ramrod at his torso.

"f. hah. hahhhhh, okay, uh.."

okay good, he's still on mute, to his relief. he doesn't even want to ex-vent because it might risk smothering your mildly, aggravated whine. you mewl. he laughs, in disbelief.

"y'know.. these kind of shows turn me on the most. cause if i can't see you, can't hear you.. i wanna make you overload more. drives me crazy."

engines revving, his strokes stutter upon hearing the terminology. must have known that too - are you a mind reader? - cause you smile, all-knowing.

"yeah. i wanna make you overload with me, swerve. would that make you feel less stressed out?"

[ Yes. Primusy es. ]

he doesn't bother correcting. instead he's fallen head over pedes watching you curl ring and middle deep inside, gagging on whines when you spread just enough to gape. he almost breaks when you whisper how you've never done it with a cybertronian, but you'd like to someday. that it was one of those fantasies none of your toys could even fulfill.

"d-don't think i could take you, hah. you bots are so big - fff - bet you you could show me a good time with just your hands."

swerve notes you like it, pressure, on that glossy nub, blunt of your palm grinding down hard. his jaw is tight as he jerks off in tandem, seeing the sticky juices gushing and wanting to shove his face right there. kissing, nonstop, until you spasm. the screen looks blurry. he's losing control.

"i'm so wet for you. do you like it?"

"are you kiddin'? c-course i do!" swerve almost chuckles again, right servo moving so fast its an sloppy mesh of squelches and rasps. keeling over, desperation paints his weakening demeanor. seeing you rise and fall chasing that high with him like an turbofox in heat is excruciatingly compelling.

"frag, frag, 'm so close baby, please, please-"

you smack your cunt. he lets out a quiet 'bwuh?' and shoulders sag seeing you squirm with a squeak. he could do that to you. he could be tender enough to do that too and he'd leave a sting that'd stay for days.

"so close, so c-close - i - shit - i'm gonna cum," what a surprise, to feel lubricant trickling down from near offlined optics, don't stop talking please, please, please - "swerve, you're gonna make me.. !"

white noise.

a dull, crackling hum fills his processors. he can't hear himself or you, the minibot crying while transfluid puddles, berth not cool enough to dampen the flames pulsing at his core. his charge is too much, knocking air he doesn't need straight from his chassis.

like dead to allspark, your dulcet whines drag him to the afterlife with cradling embrace.

by the time he's back online, his panels aren't closing nor can he lift himself, energon parched. he barely can see the text chat anymore as it is.

[ feel free to play with me again, swervey. you sound so sexy. ]

the screen is pitch black once more, taunting. to his horror, arousal floods his sensors, groan low.

damn it.

robolvrr 2025.

a/n: yeah so i'm actually insane. you're welcome. i'm just saying i'd give that bartender a ride he wouldn't survive. 　

[coefore]

I did it! This is an IDW AU born while watching The Green Knight (2021), specifically from one movie shot that I'd like to redraw. I was torn on whether or not to draw them all as robots or humans, so I started making designs for their human counterparts first - mostly because it is more fun to come up with clothes and accessories. I will eventually tackle a robot version. This is a long post, btw!

Indeed, this is a completely separate version from the Lion King AU I had come up with a couple of years ago, I just borrowed the crowns because I really liked those designs lol.

But let's set the stage under the cut. You can listen to the playlist on spotify dedicated to it: I've placed the songs in sequence so that they can create a certain vibe for the scenes I had in mind. You can read the plot part while listening.

Some character traits

This royalty au supposes a parliamentary monarchy (like the UK, Spain or Japan). This work is an in-between of later Roman/early Medieval aesthetics and some Futuristic Stuff. The Autobot brand is the royal family crest, while the Decepticon brand can be used to signal the Protector and their entourage, but only in formal settings outside the nation. Usually, the Protector can show elements of the Decepticon colours (red) in their attires.

Optimus Prime

Optimus is prideful and domineering: he knows he has the power to do real damage to people. After all, he was born into royalty and has known no other life. He has anger outbursts, but that's a side effect of his paranoia. At the start of the story, he is not the prime yet. He's around 23-24, already suffering from a mental affliction much like schizophrenia, but, just as in ye old days, the court and his father (Zeta) are not really concerned about his odd behaviours. "He is just volatile", you know. He is also dramatic, making big scenes when his emotions are too cooped up. Optimus, though, is not intentionally cruel - this isn't a Shattered Glass au where he wants some kind of bloodlust sated. He has a deep inner mind, feeling much more like a philosopher and a writer than a brute. This makes him a little naive, too, having people in court (like Prowl) taking advantage of him - and sometimes even Megatron uses his influence on Optimus to stir him where he wants to. He reads a lot, is curious, and is deeply in love with Megatron - sometimes becoming a little cringy about it. He can be a bit of a goofball, telling jokes and being rather affectionate with his family. Sadly, he's a Pisces.

Megatron

Megatron is a diligent engineer who just so happens to pick the Prime's son's interest at some point while assisting his father (Terminus, a strict, distant man) in a job at court. Optimus and Megatron are the same age. He is aloof, quiet and a very good listener. That means he often allows people to speak over him or for him - that doesn't mean, however, that he isn't going to correct them or speak his mind. He is just a careful man. Coming from a rather cold family environment, he has a hard time expressing his emotions, both verbally and physically: he kisses and hugs, sure, but that doesn't come naturally to him. After becoming protector, he has a hard time getting used to the court lifestyle since he is quite bothered by the intricacies of royal "rituals", may they be clothing, hairstyles or make-up choices. Or Starscream fussing over him about that all day. He also often stands up against abuse of power, especially from Optimus. They fight quite a lot. He enjoys drawing (buildings, like architecture) and reading novels, but he's not particularly cultured. He is also, sadly, an Aquarius. (And transgender, but this has no political or social bearing in the story besides being Rodimus' biological carrier).

Prowl

Prowl is about fifteen years older than Optimus, becoming his advisor once Zeta Prime passes in "a tragic accident". He is ambitious, cunning and... Deceptive. His ultimate goal is to push Optimus to insanity, convince the parliament he is unfit to rule and become reagent in his stead. This would allow him to create an oligarchy with other senators. His words always support Optimus' delusions, abusing the Prime's naivety for his scheming. Prowl thinks of Optimus as an idiot lucky enough to be born in a high position in the social pyramid. He has attempted various times to "warn" Megatron, one of the few people who is extremely suspicious of Prowl. And by warn, I mean having him pushed down the stairs, giving him a nice broken leg. He also acts suspiciously around Rodimus.

Zeta Prime

Zeta Prime was a balanced, careful ruler. He held concerns about his son's future, as he thought Optimus wasn't fit for a leading role. He was a stern man and often frustrated by Optimus' antics. However, their relationship was on good terms. He was "found" dead by Prowl during a political meeting abroad, as he was standing in for Alpha Trion (Zeta's advisor), prompting Optimus' coronation. Zeta wasn't sick, but all primes in this AU suffer from haemophilia (a hereditary illness that makes it harder for the body to stop bleeding).

Rodimus

Rodimus was born three years into Optimus' primacy. He was brought up in a restrictive environment, as Megatron grew more suspicious of Prowl, fearing for Rodimus' safety. That translated into Rodimus feeling anxious when Megatron's not around (for too long, at least) and becoming a little jealous of him, even if it's Optimus taking Megatron's attention. Rodimus uses "dad" for Megatron and "Father" for Optimus. He doesn't like Optimus too much, usually bearing his presence and ignoring him whenever he can, but deep down he worries about his father, too. He is a very knowledgeable child with a vast vocabulary, as he enjoys books of every kind and, just like his dad, he is a good listener, learning a lot from the "adult conversations" around him. Rodimus is often seen together with Starscream (his nanny, in a way lol), who he is fond of but has difficulties showing it. He becomes Prime-to-be at the age of 16, like all Primes.

Starscream

Starscream was the royal alchemist, an inspired researcher and a man of science. He is loyal and has strong opinions on many subjects, especially on morals and ethics. That is also why, during Zeta's late reign, he was demoted to servant with the accusation of insubordination. He is still a high-grade servant, usually dealing with bureaucracy... Until a new Protector shows up, that is. As soon as Megatron becomes a Protector-to-be, he is assigned the role of first maid in assisting him, a task he takes very seriously. Although Megatron's distance and lack of interactions with him drive him quite mad at first, he slowly realises they're quite compatible. Their relationship evolves into confidants and then friends, as Megatron often takes Starscream's side. Also, Starscream has been suspicious of Prowl since day one. He enjoys Rodimus until he starts being a little opinionated pest-- but he's fond of the child, even as he grows older and more anxious. His hobby is sneaking into the court laboratories and fixing whatever annotations made by other alchemists he deems wrong.

Skywarp & Thundercracker

They are part of the Protector's entourage (and Starscream's brothers). Skywarp is a little airheaded, a bit clumsy, and usually focuses on entertainment, mostly writing poems and songs. He is the only one who knows all the intricate inner passages of the court's buildings by heart, meaning he never gets lost. Thundercracker, on the other hand, is a bit more cocky. He is built like a brick, so he helps with manual tasks and is a decent leader, usually picking up the ranks when Starscream is busy. Both of them were not demoted like their brother, they just started working at the court as high-grade servants. They are very loyal to Megatron, although they treat him more like a royal than a friend.

The Plot (generally speaking)

Optimus is interested in this one engineer working at the court he has seen a couple of times in the last few months. He is gorgeous, and it sounds like a fun time to fill in his afternoons, maybe even getting some sex out of it. That's a thing he hasn't lacked in his life, like most royals he was used to having sex workers available at whim. However, Megatron doesn't seem too affected by the Prime-to-be's attention. He is very deadpan and interested in him as a person; he finds Optimus interesting and funny, so, in a matter of weeks, they kind of hit it off, Optimus falling madly in love with this man, spending most of the time daydreaming and absolutely useless at his duties, much to Zeta's dismay.

As this love story progresses over the next couple of years, Prowl's machination starts rolling out: being a young overachiever, he patiently waits for the chance to get rid of Zeta in a way that doesn't point directly to him. After all, Prowl is trusted and seen as loyal and caring for the Primes he serves; he is an incredibly talented actor, having the support of a few Autobot senators, too. On an out-of-country political trip, he lets Zeta bleed to death, coming back home in a hurry to announce the Prime's death and rushing Optimus' coronation. At this point, Optimus is not mentally ready to hold that position; he is quickly pushed to marry Megatron, making him his Protector. In a matter of a year and a half, Optimus' mental state quickly deteriorates, allowing Prowl to take hold of the neo-Prime's decisions.

Optimus' mental illness worsens, which stresses Megatron into stirring his husband away from Prowl. Rodimus is born in that worried, paranoid environment. Although mostly wanted by Optimus as one of his fixations (and also discouraged by Prowl himself), Rodimus brings more stability to the court. Megatron finally takes hold of Optimus' volatile behaviour as Rodimus grows older, making the Prime doubt his advisor's suggestions more than once. Prowl, thus, "warns" Megatron to lay low, having him pushed down the stairs. The goal wasn't to kill Megatron but to show him Prowl could. As Rodimus turns seven, Megatron becomes more anxious and paranoid, rubbing that over to his son. Optimus doesn't allow them to go around the court or outside without being accompanied.

Prowl's hold on Optimus slowly slips away. At the time of Rodimus' coronation as a Prime-to-be, during a medical examination for his haemophilia, the court physician (Ratchet) tells him he needs to be careful, as that illness was Zeta's cause of death. That was a known thing, of course, but it made Optimus think over the mechanics of his father's death in a way only an obsession-driven man can. He confides with Megatron over his suspicion of Prowl killing his father, and finally, they seem to be on the same page on this...

This is somehow the story up to now. I don't know if I'll update it further. I just enjoy the idea of whatever can happen in this setting. I hope you enjoyed reading this wall of text.

[saltissalty]

Alright you know what for the hell of it I am going to post multiple art posts within the span of minutes. I'm always making some sort of image. This one's about my fan continuity! I've been wanting to retouch my designs since first making them because I felt they could use more character and better fit their characterization within DS.

I do actually have quite a bit of development about Deception Shattered I'm just very shy. Argh. To put it short, DS's stating idea was about the corruption of Megatron's ideals and how it led to the Decepticons falling apart from the inside. Orion Pax and Megatron used to work together as political activists-- but Megatron got violent in response to the continuously harsh and brutal treatment lower caste Cybertronians were getting. Four million years of unchecked power and violence later, Megatron has changed from someone wanting to better his world to someone who is cruel for the sake of cruelty.

I'm sure some people who follow me have spotted that Soundwave has the autobrand instead of being a Decepticon- and that's because I wanted to play with his character some! Famously 'the most loyal Decepticon' I wanted to see what would happen if Soundwave cared more about his cassettes than anything else. (Skybound 100% influenced me here I'm not even going to pretend it didn't) He may be loyal to the Decepticons, but when Megatron starts getting what few remaining Cassettes Soundwave has left killed, he can't stay any longer. He spends a long time drifting as an unaligned Cybertronian before joining the Autobots. Other things about him, Soundwave sounds the way he does because before the war broke out he was attacked by a higher caste Cybertronian. He's almost entirely blind for a completely different reason, because Megatron plugged his brain into a Decepticon warship and it fried all of his systems. Soundwave's lucky to even be alive after that happened to him.

Some other assorted thoughts-- Ratchet might not be dead (Hooray for all yall who are distraught over my optiratch valentines art!) but certainly has been through a lot at the hands of Shockwave. Some characters who are in my roster but have yet to be designed are: Jazz, Prowl, Elita-One, Arcee, Rumble, Frenzy, Ravage, Laserbeak, Hot Rod/Rodimus, Ultra Magnus (and Minimus too), and more!

[valve3nthusiast]

(I've talked about Drift fucking crystals before right? Like there's no way that I haven't at least once right?)

How it all starts, of course, is with Rodimus making dirty jokes about some of the more... suspiciously shaped crystals in his collections, which Drift scolds him for. None of his crystals would be used like that! It's disrespectful!

Drift definitely doesn't spend the next couple of weeks staring at the ceiling of his room, furiously jacking off, while carefully avoiding looking at his collection. Or even thinking about it. Absolutely not. (Damn it, Rodimus)

So when he's next at an alien market and perusing the crystals and gemstones section, he definitely has no ulterior motive for buying an absurdly large harmonic quartz suspiciously cut and polished into the shape of a textured spike. Complete coincidence. (Listen, it was a really high-quality quartz for dirt cheap, he had to take that deal, ignore his bank account numbers)

And Drift is simply making a smart and tactical decision when he hides it in his subspace until he gets back to his room. Rodimus would probably never shut up about it, and maybe even steal it to try and do... lewd... acts with it! Truly, he is just looking out for the safety and dignity of all involved. Minimus would be proud

It's just... curiosity, that makes him take out the new quartz before he starts... "tending to himself," so he can compare it to his spike... only to see if it actually is that phallic!

The harmonic quartz is certainly pretty, shimmering with many vibrant colors. And large. And thick. And at the base of the center pillar, there are still some small crystalline formations, lovely and polished to a shine, but decently sharp enough to make you want to keep them away from anything... sensitive

A healthy dose of self-delusion really can't cover for the fact that once Drift realizes the crystal is so generously proportioned that it's nearly twice as big as his spike, his valve starts dripping. Any internal justifications of "academic interest" or "morbid curiosity" can't cover for the way he's now rubbing the blunt tip of the quartz across his glowing node and flushed valve folds

And, all right... maybe... he's been thinking about this more than he should. Maybe, getting it out of his system would make him stop. Maybe putting that blunt, unyielding crystal into his valve won't feel good at all, and he won't lie awake thinking about it anymore, so he should just put it in and be done with it-

Drift's loud moan shatters both the silence of his room and his hopes of not enjoying this, as he forces the massive crystal past the first caliper of his valve. It's somehow nothing like a spike, and yet better, his valve desperately clenching around the too-large quartz. The burn of his first caliper squeezing down on its unyielding, solid mass is exquisite. (It's possible there are some other things he has been avoiding admitting to himself, every time an injury made him revved up with charge that he did his best to ignore)

And, well. Maybe once Drift's collected himself, he ends up staring at the ceiling again, thinking about the empty ache in the rest of his valve, and the sunk cost fallacy, and how the rest of the crystal might feel if this is just the tip, and the merits of literally just saying "fuck it."

So he does. Fuck it, I mean. Vigorously, with great enthusiasm and some mild self-injury. His needy little valve was designed take the softer living metal of a spike, or something similar. The hard quartz he's forcing his valve open with is nothing like that at all. The sweet thrill of pain lights up his array with more charge than he ever really wants to self-reflect on

If Drift could even hear himself right now, he'd probably be embarrassed by the noises he's making. The aching burn of each new caliper he harshly pushes through has him moaning like a virgin taking their first spike. But he's too distracted by how fragging full he feels, one hand brutally pistoning the quartz into his abused valve, the other furiously rubbing circles on his anterior node

Fragging hell, when he finally manages to force the whole thing inside of him and grind the fat, blunt tip into his ceiling node, he shrieks like he's being fragging murdered, and accidentally overloads himself into unconsciousness

As Drift wakes up the next morning, still aching around the crystal he didn’t have the chance to pull out, valve lips scratched and bleeding from the rough edges at the base of his new favorite false spike, he looks at the ceiling and thinks: maybe I should start a new crystal collection...

(and, oh primus, if I get an infection from this, no one is ever going to let me live it down)

[saltynsassy31]

I thought of more stuff...

Okay so Drift joined a group to capture and weaponize the bird folk or hunt them or something until his own feathers started growing in cause he's part bird. Then ran away from group wounded, Ratchet saved him, but he couldn't be with Ratchet because he literally was hunting him down so he doesn't "deserve it" and instead finds himself in a place filled with half bird folk and Wing the dude who teaches him to not be a jerk and leads Drift to Spirituality. Anyhow then Drift leaves to find Ratchet because (idk) and stumbles upon Rodimus/HotRod a literal Phoenix dude, and HotRod gains a bodyguard. And they eventually meet up with Ratchet who's like the only adult when the two numbskulls are together.

Anyhow I thought it would be funny if Tailgate was a half bird person too, and his "vanishing" would be while cleaning a research post thought he saw a bird person and ran off a cliff not looking where he was going, but considering his bird dna he more glided (or bounced) until he got trapped in a cave. (Thankfully the lovely purple bird saved him from the blue Canadian goose that was freaking him out, a couple months after the fact) ;)

Last thing I swear. Ratchets wings, I kinda want them to just drag behind him like he can't fly, maybe because they're messed up and he won't let anyone touch them of groom him (who knows)

Anyhow hope you enjoy ;D

DUDE

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?!?!

Okay okay okay HOW do you keep guessing like, half the things I'm gonna do???????

It's not 100% accurate to what I have planned, but it's not like I had much planned anyway. Actually,I think it's probably better than what I had 😅 (though to be fair to me, I only recently started to learn about the rest of the cast LMAO)

I had no plans for Roddy though, like, nada. So consider your idea for him officially canon 😉👍

As for Ratchet and Drift. Drift is pretty close to what I had in mind of being half bird. Except he wasn't naturally a half bird (I was planning of introducing his story along side Rodimus, but I had zero plans for the fiery guy at the time. But now that I do, I can start working on it THANKS TO YOU!!!!) And his lore kinda ties in back to the Hunter and the Jet Twins (just disclaimer, the jettwins and Perceptor have their lore settled pretty firmly I just... it... it'll just take a while for me to finish their part because its big heavy lore).

Also, in general, the lore you have for Drift is actually way better, and fits a lot more than with what I had in mind. So consider it canon LMAO (we'll cross the gridge of the not natrually half bird part when we get there 🤭)

Also may I steal your design for Drift? I am absolutely in love with it! Vkdksks and it fits with the lore so much- I will credit you, obviously, all credits to you omg

Ratchet's wings...well, they used to be big too, you got that part somewhat right. He'll get his own post some day, but, in the mean time, since you've been such a dear, I'll show you the WIP for him I have so far :3

He's actually important for Blurr and Swerve's journey

As for Tailgate

YOU GUESSED 100% HIS STORY WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT HOOOOWWWW?????

I mean, not that he had a lot planned to begin with. But yes, he is a half-breed (I will be making a dedicated post to them btw, they're important, especially when it comes to Ratchet’s involvement). He's also part of the minibot trio cuz I love them, and I love their friendship uwu now I just gotta find a way to fit in Skids because his friendship with Swerve is my favourite so far. Curse me for not having read mtmte before making this au-

Cyclonus is a bird that finds him too. But everything else I hadn't yet touched on, so your story for them is pretty much canon at this point XD (I also had no plans for Whirl, so I'll keep him as the chaotic, blue Canadian goose XD)

EDUT UIFIRGOT TO COMMENT IN BABY RODDY I AM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH IT DUDE THAT IS SO CUTE YES HE IS ABSOLUTELY BABY OH MY GOD WHAT AN UGLY BABY I LOVD HIM

Edit, again cuz I am rushing through this too much and I keep forgetting to comment on shit

But that little comic with Rewind and Swerve is sooooo accurate to them lmao

[tech-luver]

It's exam season and to help me cope I've been writing fun stuff between study sessions. Maybe my opinions could be appreciated and debated on the interwebs.

Ranking (some of) the LL crew based on who would let you take a nap on them and how comfy that nap would be:

Rodimus: 6/10 He would be so down with you taking a nap on him but he's very sharp and very distractable. His neck flare plate(?) would prevent you from sliding off but you better hope when something get his attention you don't get crushed in his neck cabling. I think he would try to remember you are there, maybe poke at you when he's bored, but if he's active, try is the key word there. Bonus points for running warm though… hopefully not too warm.

Megatron: 8/10 A solid nap to be had. Good flat shoulder plating and he would never forget you were up there. Loss of points over the fact he would only let it happen if he really liked you and, lets be real here, there would always be that prickle at the back of your neck over how low your defences are and how many organics this mech has crushed.

Ultra Magnus: 10/10 The holy grail of naps, plenty of flat surfaces to rest on, no one can bother you cuz almost no one is as tall as him, he would willingly be your alarm clock, always knows you're there, incredible nap spot. Only issue would be convincing him, but you could make up something about how humans need to nap in high places or whatever and he would fold in concern for your fragile human health.

Ratchet: 5/10 Half of the battle is getting him to agree and the other half is trying to fall asleep whilst he grumbles, he also moves around a lot cuz he never rests and is always helping bots in the medbay. I don't know if you can fall asleep to the sound of metal being welded together or someone getting yelled at for injuring themselves doing something stupid but… all the power to ya.

Drift: 9/10 Respects the need of the nap, it's basically like meditation so he gets it. His calm energy really helps when drifting off. I think he likes the idea of protecting a little human as they snooze which gives him guard dog energy when you're out, no ones messing with you and ruining your beauty sleep. Lose a point cuz he is sleek in design so fully resting on him comes at a risk.

Rung: 4/10 Doesn't mind if you ask but, I'm sorry, he's too rounded, not good for lying down. Although, he would be very careful and gentle with you so it just might work out. He works in a quiet environment which is nice but if he is having/about to have a therapy session he will ask you to leave, patient confidentiality is important to him. You would have to schedule your naps with him which is not the point of naps.

Cyclonus: 1/10 Zero flat surfaces so you would need to strap in. I don't think he would want you napping on him, he would constantly need to check you haven't fallen to your death and would find it awkward talking to people with something hanging on his shoulder. Would tell you to just go back to your berth or find a non-moving flat area, why do you want to nap on a Cybertronian anyway? A single point for at least being nice about it when he denies you.

Tailgate: 7/10 Absolute sweetheart about it but there's nowhere to really lay down on him. He would offer to hold you as a solution, which, if you don't mind being cradled like a baby (or having other people see you being cradled like a baby, tanking your reputation), seems alright. Since you are right in front of him at all times that way, there's no chance of him forgetting you're there. Will shush other people if they're being too loud around you. High chance of inducing cuteness aggression in him when you're asleep and softly snoring, will go for the cheeks.

Swerve: 3/10 This mech spends all his time loudly blabbering in a bar, noise needs to not be an issue for you. Similar issue with Tailgate where laying down is difficult. Unfortunately, does know what a human baby is so will coddle and humiliate you if you agree to being held. Another issue, the prankster Swerve is, you can't trust this guy to not draw on you or not steal something from you and hide it in an unreachable spot or not put you on a floatie in the middle of the oil reservoir. Gets some points cuz only HE can mess with you, anyone else tries to wake you up and they're out the bar.

Whirl: 0/10 …I mean there is literally nowhere to lay down, he's too damn skinny. You…could take a chance with his giant chassis but you'll probably slide off or look like you're in a baby holder if you strap yourself down. IF you are successful at staying in place (somehow), he would just bother you the whole time or not give a shit you're there and start running around. Worst case, he tries to use you as a meat shield to get away with annoying bots cuz "If you try to punch me, you'll punch the squishy human as well!"

Brainstorm: 3/10 Mech hangs from the ceiling sometimes. Sure, he has some alright shoulder plating to work with but his spontaneity could literally throw you off. Would allow a nap but wouldn't check on you, too absorbed in his work. If he was bored and didn't have any ideas coming to him, you could suggest a sleeping bag that attaches you to mechs you want to sleep on.

I know I've missed some bots, maybe my stress will produce a part 2.

[in1-nutshell]

Fearless is still crying about Alabaster and Megs finds out. cut to the scavengers freaking the fuck out because holy shit Megatron is about to bust down their door and all because their newest member catfished his kid.

Finally!

Definitely going to be doing a long version of this in the future

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless and Alabaster

SFW, Platonic, Angst, Hinted romance, Human reader

MTMTE

There had been a noticeable change on the Lost Light.

It was the behavior of the ship’s resident human, Fearless.

Ever since their no show to trivia night, and the sudden sick day they took after, they had been… quiet.

Their demeanor reminded the original crew members how they acted the first few days on the ship.

More composed, stiffer, more neutrality in their tone, more… robotic.

Magnus: “I do believe that concludes today’s meeting.” Fearless wordlessly starts packing up their things. Rodimus: ���Hey Fearless, there’s karaoke night over at Swerve’s. You wanna team up for tonight’s duo performance?” Fearless: “I’m afraid I cannot tonight, Captain. There are too many reports to fill in after Whirl’s last escape from the brig. Have a good night.” Fearless tries to leave the room before Megatron stands in their way. Fearless: “Megatron, is there something you need?” Megatron: “I need assistance in getting the classes grades in the system.” Fearless: “Just send the work to my mail and I will get to it. Good night.” Fearless wordlessly goes around the mech and makes their way to their habsuite. Rodimus: “Nothing?” Magnus: “Anything? Megatron sighs: “Nothing.”

The human barely interacted with the bots and always headed back to their room as soon as they finished their tasks for the day.

The only other bot on board who had the slightest idea what was going on was Whirl.

But even he refused to say much.

Mainly because all he knew was that he needed to pummel someone who made Fearless sob up a storm and he didn’t even have a name!

Whenever he wasn’t in the brig, Whirl became a bodyguard of sorts.

Always watching Fearless surroundings for any sign that the bot who did this was on board.

Megatron had tried to talk to them, but even that left fruitless.

Megatron is sitting next to Fearless in the empty classroom. Megatron: “There is something you are not telling me.” Fearless stays silent. Megatron: “… I will not force you to talk, you can come to me when you are ready… but remember the crew, that I am here to listen when you wish to speak.” Fearless’s eyes gloss a bit, but they bite their tongue and leave the grey mech alone. Megatron looks at his child sadly but decides to trust what Rung had advised him to do. Don’t force it, let them come to you.

Megatron didn’t like seeing his kid like this.

Even Rung tried coaxing Fearless into having a private session to figure out what was going on.

And to many surprises, Fearless denied it.

The human was always advocating for the bots to go see Rung and went to him too.

But to suddenly not want to go?

This was bad.

It would be a month into this state when the Lost Light would get an unexpected visit from the WAP.

Maybe the visit of the Scavenger’s would cheer them up.

There were two things that the crew noticed immediately.

1. The scavengers had a new crewmate

2. They looked tense, especially the new crewmate.

Fearless arrives with Megatron and Magnus. Rodimus was already talking with the Scavengers. Rodimus looks over at the three. Rodimus: “Magnus, Megatron, Fearless, you remember the Scavengers, right? Well, they have a new member!” The bot steps forward stiffly and greets the bots. Alabaster: “My designation is Alabaster Lapis.” Fearless just looked at him with a surprised look. Fearless: “…Nice to meet you.” The bots detected a bit of hostility in the human. Rodimus: “How about we head to Swerve’s for some drinks? I think he has a new variety of mixes.” Megatron glances questionably at Fearless who looks ahead, not making contact with anyone.

Everyone dispersed once they got to the bar.

Many of the crew were surprised to see Fearless out and about for the first time in a month.

That comment caught Alabaster’s attention feeling the guilt rack up.

Alabaster saw a shooing motion from Misfire and Spinister before he reached the bar where Fearless was sitting.

He ordered a drink and sat beside them in silence.

They both knew they were delaying the inevitable… but maybe this could work in their favor

It was very awkward between the pair.

Fearless asked if his crew new about it.

Alabaster blinked before stating that they heard the conversation… and thoroughly beat him over the helm with his stupid mistakes.

Fearless chuckled a bit after hearing that Grimlock had swung his tail and had him dented on the side of the ship.

His spark fluttered a bit.

It had been a while since he heard their laughter.

This was a win.

Fearless looked around and asked him to grab them, they knew a place on the ship that would give them privacy.

They made their way to the oil reservoir.

That’s where Fearless mask dropped.

They looked at him with a mixture or sadness, frustration, anger, and something else. Fearless: “I thought we agreed in 3 more days. Or is there something else your not telling me about?” Alabaster: “We recently had repairs on an organic planet. They boosted our thruster systems.” Fearless: “And you didn’t think on telling me because…” Alabaster sighed and sat on the edge of the platform, his pedes dangling above the oil below. Alabaster: “I… I didn’t think it was important. We were already meeting each other; it was only 3 days. Those pass by in a blink of an optic.” Fearless huffs standing beside him but with an ample amount of space in between them. Fearless: “In case you forgot, time means something different to ‘organics’. If you need a reality check, we die much earlier than Cybertronians.” Alabaster: “…I know…” Fearless winces a bit at his defeated tone. Maybe they crossed a line. Fearless sits down on the edge, mimicking his stance. Fearless: “…Well… here we are…” Alabaster: “Here we are…” Silence… Fearless: “Why did you keep it on for so long?” Alabaster: “… I didn’t want to lose you.” Fearless: "would it matter if you did?” Alabaster looks at them with a serious expression. Alabaster: “Most defiantly.” He sighs softening his gaze. Alabaster: “I care about you, a lot. More than I want to admit it really. If there was a chance that you hated Cybertronian’s…” Fearless places a hand on one of his digits. Alabaster looks at them a bit surprised. Fearless smiles a bit. Fearless: “I’d be a pretty crummy friend if I did.” Alabaster: “So…” Fearless: “Well, the whole lying and the technical ‘catfishing’ is going to leave a mark.” Alabaster winces a bit at the sharpness in their voice. Fearless: “…But I don’t mind trying this friendship thing all over again.” Alabaster smiles a bit. Fearless stands up and offers him their hand. Fearless: “I’m Fearless.” Alabaster gently shakes their hand. Alabaster: “My name is Alabaster Lapis. You can call me Alabaster or Aster for short.” Fearless and Alabaster smile at each other.

The pair eventually made it back to Swerve’s where everyone else was.

The Scavengers were relieved to see the two in much better spirits and it was safe to assume that the two had talked it out.

The lost light crew looked over that the new mech who had Fearless perched on his shoulder.

It had been a month since Fearless had smiled that widely.

They looked almost like their usual self, a bit tired and drained but much better looking than last time.

Fearless made sure to give the Scavenger’s all goodbyes when they had to leave.

Fearless waves at the WAP as it leaves. Fearless sighs and looks behind them. Everyone is looking at them. Fearless: “Uhhh…” Whirl: “What did that bot do to you?” Fearless: “What?” Whirl: “I just got out of the brig to see you and that other guy smiling. You haven’t done that in weeks.” Megatron: “What whirl means to say is that we are all happy to see that you have moved from your depressive state… but we are curious to what happened.” Fearless looked at the direction of the WAP. They were safe enough. Fearless: “Okay… but you all have to SWEAR not to do ANYTHING drastic or harmful.” The bots look around confused. Fearless: “All right, here goes…” Hopefully things did not go off the rails… Oh, who were they kidding, this was the Lost Light, going off the rails happened every other day. On the WAP... Alabaster suddenly shudders. Alabaster: “I feel like I’m in danger…”

alabaster feeling the rage of the Lost Light thousand miles away

[imma-soft-beeboy]

dratchet fluff, preferably lost light but i dont mind, extra points if my boy rodimus is there too

A/N: YES I CAN! I love my old man yaoi (and of course I'll add their man child). Enjoy!

《TW: Ratchet has achy chronic pain cause he's old & Rodimus mentions feelings of inadequacy cause big feels about being captain okay???》

[ Simple Things ]

Ratchet had had an incredibly long day in the medbay. Every half-wit bot known to man had decided today was the day to do risky, borderline life-threatening behavior. He had spent countless hours patching up people, and at this point he couldn't tell what ached more.

All he wanted to do is settle in his habsuite, with his eccentric conjunx, and unwind. So when he opened the door to find not only his conjunx, but Rodimus as well, he sighed. Of course their leash child was there...

"Hello Sweetspark," Drift smiled widely, his voice sickly sweet. Ratchet distinctly remembered Drift saying 'no Rodimus tonight.'

"Don't pander to me," Ratchet snipped. Drift whinced slightly, so much for trying to soften the blow. He knew Ratchet wasn't actually mad, but he still felt bad.

"Me and Rodimus were just sitting down to play a game would you like to join?" Stretching his back struts, Ratchet grumbled in thought. He ached, but maybe a game would be a nice distraction.

"Sure." Scooting back the two made room for the medi-bot on the floor. Drift watched as Ratchet gingerly lowered himself to the floor. He felt bad, it should just be the two of them, but Rodimus had needed him too. Don't get him wrong, he cared for Rodimus, but Rodimus was not his conjunx. His conjunx was currently sitting across from Drift clearly pent up after a long day.

"It'll just be a quick game, promise," Drift soothed letting his servo run over Ratchet's leg.

"Barf," Rodimus joked from beside Drift, "PDA?" Rolling his eyes Drift shoved Rodimus playfully, before starting to unpack the game.

The game itself was a well known Cybertronian classic. It was a game involving tiles with different half designs on each edge. The goal was to match the half of the design on one edge to one already on a board. If you got 4 whole designs adjacent to each other, you could pull a token. The bot with the most tokens wins. It was meant to be a casual game, where you enjoy the intricacies of the completed graphic. Very relaxing.

However, with Rodimus playing, it turned into a mad dash for tokens. "I win," the flaming red bot pumped his fists into the air. Drift snickered and Ratchet grumbled.

"Alright Friend-o-Mine," Drift sighed, "I did say one game." He clapped Rodimus on the shoulder before leading him to habsuite door. "Be gentle with yourself okay?"

"I'll try, thanks Drift," Rodimus half smiled before leaving. As soon as the door shut, Drift descended on Ratchet. The medi-bot could feel the stealth-bot in his magnetic field before a servos touched the dips above his hips.

"What was his deal," Ratchet gruffed out as Drift started massaging out the tension in his lower back.

"He was trying to stay away to give us a night, but his thoughts got the better of him. He's worried about the journey. Thinks he's not doing enough as Captain, making all the wrong decisions." At this point Drift had made his way to Ratchet's shoulder struts. Ratchet had thrown his head back, resting it on the others shoulder armor. They looked at each other.

"I can't say he's been the smartest; but he's doing all he can with what he's got."

"And thats all he can do." Drift wandered down his arms to his servos, and Ratchet nearly moaned. His servos always bothered him, he used them day in and day out. They were overworked and underpaid. But Drift was doing a number on them that had each cable loosening.

"And what about you," Drift murmured in his audial, "how did your day go?"

"Busy. I saw practically the whole ship today," Ratchet huffed, venting loudly.

"Mmm, must've been taxing on your mind and soul," Drift soothed, now easing the tired bot to sit on the berth. As Ratchet sat he watched Drift lower himself to sit on the floor, starting to rub his aching pedes.

"Don't hit me with the spiritual enlightenment slag."

"I would never," Drift hummed, content. Something about watching Ratchet relax after a long day because of his massage therapy, just made him giddy. "Just trying to help you unwind."

"Thank you, Sweetspark," Ratchet suddenly took Drifts servos in his, "it means a lot." They smiled at each other before leaning in to share a quick kiss. "Now get up here on the berth and cuddle me, dammit."

"Yes Sir," Drift joked before climbing up.

[bbgatile]

drawing human versions of non-human characters has never been my thing but with tf i find it fun to explore holoforms

some of these headshots are quite old and from different artworks which is why the styles/quality varies but i liked them enough to include them in the collage (i was also too lazy to redraw them)

notes about some of the designs under the cut if ur curious:

-rodimus is explicitly inspired by 80s glam rock. i took quite a bit of inspiration from david bowie, prince, and a little bit of ruby rhod from 5th element.

-im mexican. i wanted starscream to look like an evil stepmother straight out of a telenovela. i think the vibe fits her

-ratchets design keeps eluding me and im still not satisfied with it, but its important to me that he is always a fat hairy bear.

-i didnt like jlaw's art of human roller being generic skinny-buff. i made this one out of spite.

-though its only a headshot for now, arcee's design is also a bit 80s-90s inspired. she has fingerwaves, which i hope comes across in the art

-i ran out of time (patience), but minimus' outfit is supposed to be old west inspired. i'll make a better version of it another time

[altraviolet]

Hi Violet ! I and a friend had a discussion about how Rodimus and Soundwave might eventually share a berthroom or not in the future of TEG. We thought neither would want to move in the other's room due to their preferences in interior. Yet Rodimus seems to not mind and gotten used to being in Soundwave's so we thought maybe he would be the one to move. We also had in mind that they would have the wall separating their rooms removed so the interior would be bigger, perhaps renovate too where they have to decide on the interior design together. What are your thoughts on these ?x]

Hi anon!

this is a super cute question x3

ok ok here are my thoughts:

Rodimus would want to remove the wall, yes, whereas SW is like "? but there's just one doorway in between," as in, why bother when all we have to do to access each other is go through one door. but that's still a WHOLE DOOR Rodimus doesn't want to deal with, and also, hey maybe it's like, symbolic or something. so Rodimus wants to take down the wall

Ultra Magnus does a big NO to that, for many reasons, including structural reasons. Rodimus perhaps starts tearing down the wall anyway until he trips some kind of alarm and gets found out. UM is Not Happy. Rodimus is like :'D :'D

Eventually UM lets him take down however much of the wall is safest to do so, so now they have semi-connected rooms. and now, yes, they run into the trouble of wanting different things for interiors. Rodimus realizes he's lost a wall for displaying his posters/videos and he's not into crystal-studded-darkness 24/7 (ship equivalent), and SW finds the constant barrage of moving posters/videos distracting and annoying.

oh no. but Rodimus can't back down and get the wall rebuilt! then he will have been wrong about his idea!!

so eventually they get a folding wall thingy that re-divides the rooms xD it's pretty much the same as having a door, which SW points out, but Rodimus shushes him, and he makes a big deal about how Nice and Foldy the foldable wall is. oooh, look how it folds. it's so foldy. no one else has a foldy wall

so yeah they end up with a really silly, flawed arrangement but Rodimus is too stubborn to make it less silly and flawed and SW really doesn't care that much. so it's all good xD

thanks for the question. that was fun to think about haha, hope you enjoyed

[cozzzynook]

for a laugh, rodimus gets some custom-made lingerie to wear while he's carrying. drift and ratchet are surprised by how much it turns them on.

Rodimus thinks buying lingerie while he’s carrying would be a funny thing because he doesn’t feel very attractive anymore but he’s not really down in the dumps about it. He decides to make a laugh about it because he expected this to happen since carrying for him would be gaining lots of frame weight since he carries in the tanks and gaining weight has mostly come easy to him so he figured it’d happen.

so when it happens he’s not really too upset outwardly. He either ignores it or makes a joke of it.

so ordering lingerie would definitely be a good joke that makes him feel better since it would be something Drift could find funny because he added crystals to the outfit and Ratchet would get a slight kick from it too since he could do a funny dance that would make the older mech roll his optics.

So when he gets it made, this whole thing came about because Cyclonus ordered his own outfit while carrying Whirl and Tailgates sparklings sitting next to Roddy who was rubbing both their tanks with a heated palm to calm their nausea. When he saw the purchase and Cyclonus noticed he completed his own and gave Rodimus the datapad to do his own.

It took some well known looks from Cyclonus for Rodimus to sigh and agree. He tried making a hasty retreat right after but Cyclonus laid his heavy thigh on Rodimus’s own and kept him trapped until Rodimus gave in and they formed a sparked pile. Sure it was just the two of them since they were the only tank carriers on board but it was nice.

He’d fallen asleep with Cyclonus and woke in his hab confused about how he got there until he felt Drift and Ratchet curled up on both sides of him.

He remembers apologizing for them carrying him when he’s so heavy and thanking them only to get an optic roll from Ratchet and teasing from Drift that they were far heavier. Its not like it wasn’t true, they definitely outclassed him in weight, especially Ratchet who was all solid metal and mesh. But he still felt guilty and tried to make it up to them.

Of course they wouldn’t let him and so he decided the outfit that came a few weeks later would be their gift of carrying his heavy aft to berth. A nice laugh that would hopefully make their spirits lift more than usual before doing something together like going to the movie room or having a funny story at Swerves who included a new carrier drink at the bar just for himself and Cyclonus who were in love with the odd mixture.

Speaking of Swerve’s he rubbed his heavy, still growing tank that rumbled lightly at the thought of the delicious drink and he shifted from looking in the mirror, soft crystals bouncing on his thigh plating and modesty panel. A light tickle of the crystals touching just below his chassis that he rubbed a dull from as he began to try taking the intricate lingerie off when he heard the hab door opening and two sets of pedes entering with his designation echoed in greeting.

He let his em field greet them back and rubbed the sides of his tanks when he felt a slight cramp at standing too long.

He sighed, trying not to waddle as he walked towards the berth only to stop at hearing two intakes of air.

Turning he looked at Drift and Ratchet stand in the doorway frozen at the sight of him.

Their optics didn’t blink or move from his frame as he stood with a servo on his tank and the other in front of him so he could lower himself to the berth.

“Hey,” he laughed a little, “ya like the surprise? Figured it be funny and a nice little haha gift. Consider it my thanks for carrying me back to berth and always being so sweet.”

He smiled a little as he turned towards them, “I would do the funny dance I planned but..well..yeah thats not happenin,” he laughed to himself. Servo still on his tank as he used the other to try unclasping the lower lingerie since he knew it’d be harder once he sat down. He didn’t really want to ask them since they might be tired from their shifts but he was also not gonna make it standing for more than two kliks. So he might as well suck it up and ask.

He was coming to terms with his poor choice in complicated clothing when he noticed neither had said a word.

He looked up not sure what to expect.

The two sporting heavy blushes on their face plates and the obvious strain on their modesty panels was not at all what he thought he’d see.

“Umm..are you guys okay?”

Genuinely he was confused and wisely kept his em field from brushing against theirs as he soothed the internal ache in his chassis and tanks.

“Ratch? Drift?”

He did get a little worried at their long silence and he chanced a few steps towards them with a waddle he couldn’t fight at the moment that seemed to snap them from their trance as they came full force at him.

He yelped with a slight jump that did wonders on wrecking his knee struts and back pain as the two surrounded him wrapping their arms around him and touching wherever their digits could reach as kisses littered his neck cables and frame denting soft bites were growled with an engine rev along his shoulder plating.

“What the..”

He couldn’t get more than that out as the two carefully shuffled him to the berth where they helped lower him and seemed to revel in the relieved sigh he vented at being off his pedes and in their nest.

Ratchet cupped his heavy tanks along side Drift, feeling the wide expanse of metal that housed their growing sparkling as their other servos thumbed at the cloth and crystals wrapped along his frame.

The soft clinging of the jewels made Drifts frame buzz and vibrate with each and every rattle against Rodimus’s warm body and the feeling of his engine purring made something stir to life in Rodimus’s leaking valve.

His modesty panels popped open against his will and for the very first time since his tanks began to grow his valve was fluttering and glowing in patterns that just begged for the two sires of his bitty to come inside him.

He’s feeling them pop his too tight chassis off along with their own modesty plating clicking open just as he opens his optics he didn’t even realize were closed.

Seeing the world tilt as he’s laid on a tiny mountain of pillows feeling digits and two glossas lick along the jewels and mouth at his valve as his tanks sre massaged and soft nips litter his inner thigh plating that turn to dent marks that make his pedes bend and his thighs shift further apart to better feel Drifts glossa slip the crystal inside him as Drift tongues around the jewel and Ratchet sucks his anterior node leaves him a wet, dripping, mess that turns to a full frame shiver when his hips roll at the sudden intrusion he didn’t realize was coming.

He’d been so lost to the pleasure he didn’t realize Drift and Ratchet had him on his side until he was panting and being carefully turned over so they both could slip inside him together with the crystal going further inside until it grazed the soft lining of his swollen node that almost made him overload.

His audial receptors weren’t functioning properly and a quick reset from Ratchet allowed him to hear the sweet moans and words Drift and Ratchet were offering him.

“So worried,” Drift moaned into Ratchets intake as the two kissed and shook feeling their spikes rub together inside Rodimus who was overcome with pleasure he couldn’t do more than inhale and hold onto both mechs.

“Thought something was wrong with ya, but you were just planning to surprise us with yer frame all rounded out and full,” Ratchet groaned with that deep tone as he rutted inside and pushed the tip of his spike against Drifts and Rodimus could feel them both leaking inside making the deep pressure build.

“You look so beautiful Roddy, covered in one of my favorite crystals and you remembered. Choosing crystals of fertility, you really were listening,” and even on the verge of overload Rodimus couldn’t help sending a feeling of caring and cherish to Drift who more than deserved it and so much more.

“Had us worried but ya just wanted to buy time till you were really showin. Undeniable proof of us inside you,” Ratchet growled with his engine, speeding up using a rough pace that Drift matched in his own way as his optics hazed with adoration, lust, boundless emotions Rodimus’s overcharged and insecure processor could not keep up with that Ratchets pounding em field could.

“I’m not lettin either of you leave this berth until we’ve overloaded inside you so much you get sparked all over again.”

And it was a possibility.

Rodimus’s tanks actually could do that since he was just that fertile and held a second forge tank that just wasn’t as strong as the one currently in use. It was still very possible though and he’s realizing maybe Ratchet isn’t just using berth room talk with how Drift lifts his leg to put him in a better breeding position.

His whines aren’t out of rejection to the idea, his tears aren’t just from being wanted and still seen as attractive. His overload at feeling the two delve deeper doesn’t stop until they’ve coated his insides a glowing sticky mess and they’re both resting their forehelms together and venting to regulate frame temperature.

His overload is overwhelming and even after it stops his tears do not and he can try passing his constant sobs that keep going moments after the two have regained themselves and can better think and move while he cannot. He can try covering his face plate with his servos to hide himself and stifle his sobs. Try to get the words, “hormones,” that refuse him to their audials as they look concerned for him after sharing a look and processing his earlier words of this being a joke gift instead of an actual gift.

He can try lifting himself as he sobs so he can cry alone where no one will see his pitiful state and unflattering moment thats existed from the moment he could no longer see his pedes or wake without being exhausted and heavy.

Rodimus can try but it does him no good as he can’t lift himself without their help and they go against his wish to hide and flee. They go against his lies of it being hormones and shatter his hopes of keeping insecurities secret.

They finally see through the walls he built with camouflage and hold him in their arms as he sobs trying to put the broken pieces together that just won’t fit anymore. Drift and Ratchet won’t let it as soft words are given and delicate touches become necessity.

“Please don’t hide from us,” he’s held in comforting arms that don’t stray from the parts he knows unflattering.

Soft hummed words and caresses take him apart and Rodimus is still sobbing but his cries are known. His pain is worked and smoothed in two servos that can’t ever live in a time where he’s not happy alongside them and it takes time.

But eventually his tears become sobs and those sobs turn to whines that become soft kisses to eventual spark merging.

-

I’m sorry. I know this is a happy post but my brain went this way. Hope you and everyone else enjoys

[robolvrr]

pop 'n lock it! *⁠.⁠✧｡⁠☆

rodimus prime x gn! flirty bounty hunter reader

sexy aliens at hotspots near you! • rodimus has learned that maybe cybertronians aren't as feared by the rest of the galaxy as he thinks.

warnings: nsfw, sexual content. (fisting, valveplay, friends with benefits.) non-cybertronian reader.

"come here often?"

your fingers rub absently on the safety lock of a battered pistol. the sizzle of raw laser still sends a wave of nausea through your system, before your internal servers have forwarded through past memories and interactions to positively identify the cocky voice rumbling through your communications system.

your lips playfully pull upwards.

"how'd you get my line, roddy? don't remember giving you this frequency babe."

the laughter that follows is painfully confident. so much so, that you can easily pick the chuckles apart and find the nervousness coursing beneath. he's about to snip back at you but that's just so predictable, especially since he's much more fun tongue-tied.

"daww, you missed me pretty thing? and here i thought you were too busy being a lil commander. if you wanted me so bad you coulda just told me the last time."

rodimus lets out the equivalent of a bark. you turn your attention to the sky, squinting in an attempt to see if he was piercing through the atmosphere or not.

"oh, you're mean! you know, sometimes i think you just like to project. i get you that riled up, sweetspark?"

that's how he wants to play tonight? cute.

you make eye-contact with a ball of flame and melted metal dancing across bright, magenta skies like a comet out of hell. humming, your pistol meets your hip, belt heavy with equpiment.

"your paint job gonna hold, hm? coming down awfully hot, needy."

"am not."

"uh-huh. sure, speedy. you want me to buff it better later?"

"just get that expression off your face. ugh."

that smile is downright cheshire. this planet's entire warmth and core couldn't force his frame any hotter than the sly smirks you design. it's your plotting grin.

the possibilities send a nice shiver down to his pedes.

"good mechs get rewards. stop playing coy and admit you're stressed and you missed me."

silence, for once, fills your comms. he can imagine you sucking your teeth with a feigned, sour pout.

"... be ready."

your head tips back when you giggle. legs drape over a slender, glossy bike before it sets to hover over rusted terrain, helmet clicking into place as your suit whirs to function.

[ welcome back, user. where to? ]

wrists twist back until the engine purrs. you wonder if rodimus will too.

"the usual. clear my night and tell trax the job is done."

your bike and you shoot through the desert in a blur, leaving the approaching prime and your disintegrated target of ash far behind.

---------

rodimus knows he shouldn't be interacting with you on any level. like, at all.

it's not as if you're a major threat. he's learned the hard way not to leap to conclusions, though you've never made a point of following through with any threats and you're cute, kind of intimidating. almost some figment of his imagination that flits in the corners of his optics.

he hasn't told anyone, anyone, on the ship about you.

for one, they just wouldn't get it.

rodimus prime, captain of the lost light, dirty pervert who enjoys interfacing outside his species every once in awhile. who is hopelessly intoxicated by a being hundreds of feet shorter and yet lets 'em run him up a wall.

for two, he's sure it isn't "ethical." magnus wouldn't look at him the same and he already was in hot water.

for three? well for three, you should be in prison. he's not sure where or which one, but from his research and your blunt pride, you're not exactly a good person.

not entirely. you've gotten rid of some awful corruption and he doesn't like how he's starting to question where his morals and your efficiency mix, because he's certain you don't fry his processors that bad to the point he's losing his sense.

you do.

rodimus lands on the planet's surface, fields buzzing too much to remember the name or care about proper docking. it's not as if he's sticking around for long, per your request.

which is cool. totally cool.

rodimus feels like shareware when he transforms into alt-mode, aware you're probably already waiting. his pistons roar and he fights the urge not to ding you again, because yeah, he's needy.

so what if he misses your mouth? missed your skin, synthetic and otherwise, missed your foreign technology analyzing his ticks and limits?

he needed this. he deserves this, that much was true.

the crackle of his comms make his wheels bite rock aggressively.

"don't make me wait."

----------

he arrives not even five minutes later. you're too static to care about or remember his measurement of time. it's quick and to your standards and that's all that matters.

his chassis is dusty. sure enough, there is visible damage upon his descent. you don't look up, or over, your shoulder until he drawls in bratty greeting.

"you know, most hosts are a little more attentive."

there he goes. classic rodimus, always misbehaving. biting what he could chew and choking instead.

you let the silence grow awkward before you give him what he wants. you can sense the way he's unsure by how his vents vary, fans slowly whirring as they lower the temperature down a degree.

"and most guests are more polite. who said i invited you?"

poor thing looks like a kicked pet. his optic ridges droop and his dermas screw up, stubborn.

"i can be good. it's just... i need you, okay? that's what you wanted to hear, right? just give me tonight. please."

he slips down the concrete wall as steps, practiced and nonchalant, drift his direction. all his insecurities and want bubble to a nasty concoction and his legs part without command.

he can feel it. your stare, right on his closed array. the visual, physical culmination of his obsession dripping and oh, primus. your mouth is opening and you're letting it fall on your tongue.

"hahhh.. frag." he stores the image in a file far away.

"like candy, roddy. i can forgive you for intruding if you haven't been touching yourself like i asked, darling."

he groans and his digits scrape the foundation. you suck your finger and he's shaking.

"sure tastes like it."

frag it all. you make him so desperate it's embarrassing.

he nods his head fast and his panels pop and lock open.

leaning forward, you make a mental note to see just when your schedule will open up again this lunar cycle. while his spike is just as pretty as he is, an curved phallic throb of silver metal with sparkling, ruby bio-lights, you dip lower instead.

rodimus didn't have time to ask, hearing the whoosh of your thrusters and suddenly tongue and spit find his node with turbokitten licks.

"ooohhhh, okay, hah! w-warn somebody before you just g— guhh..!"

you never ask him to mass displace when intimate. it's partially the reason he feels so gross. there is no reason for him to be this broken already.

he should be breaking you. you should be under him, unable to take an inch. unable to think straight, or walk straight—

you're nibbling.

the rounded knob is rubber and thick. solid. firm, but slippery. you're not worried about harming him, though you do bite harder than necessary to ensure he's getting stimulated.

transfluid starts to drench your chin as you swirl and slobber, forming a warm suction that earns you a glitched moan.

"yes, yes, yeeeeeeaaahh... j-jhust like. ah! that.."

eager fingers circle his valve. he hiccups his approval.

then, your hand. he has to focus on not crushing it but from the yelp and helm bumping the ceiling, he wasn't expecting the action at all. you dreamily continue to coat him in your saliva as your wrist slithers in.

rodimus is sure he's going to offline.

you're not big. that's been established. but he still has to ease his calipers, legs trembling as you shove more and more of your forearm in him.

"please don't stop. i-i'm sho sorry. i'll be good. i'll be so good fhoure yew."

lubricant coats his faceplate when he hears your wicked amusement murmur against his valve instead.

his processor is fuzzy. he can't grab at anything because his strength will collapse the support beams, or you'll shoot that domineering leer that makes him feel like he's tipped over a vase.

rodimus whines, bleats. after lapping and swallows, your mouth has lost patience and drifted to his pulsing shaft instead. your lips are so much softer than a cybertonian, pillowy and velvet.

meanwhile, you are lazy. still pumping up to the elbow, in and out, in, out, innnn, outttt.

"let me see you cry, honey. so cute when you do. so handsome. so pretty."

the captain ex-vents sharp. his optics are cerulean. they glow in the darkness and drink you up.

"y-yeah?"

greedy! he's too obvious.

"you're the prettiest cybertonian i have ever seen." there it is, that engine growl. it vibrates your form with a tickle.

"my little light. my perfect...", you know what you're saying is going to make him overthink. you keep going because you feel how close he is already. "perfect prime."

that does it. rodimus tries to reboot his vocalizer as he shrieks out, dopey and bursting. a large, pink pool puddles at his aft, a single servo snatching you by the waist by instinct and dragging you up, up, up, up.

his glossa shoves down your throat and you paw at his helm.

he wants this burnt into his very being. his spark is thrashing.

"give. more. c'mon."

smoothing away tears, you suckle. his glossa slithers out and spit and fluid makes spider-web bridges between your mouths.

"you know i am not that mean, right? relax your pistons."

rodimus looks at you, albeit too tenderly. you close your eyes and distract you both instead by kissing him again.

"hah. as if. you're evil."

"you seem to have a habit of letting evil people around you, roddy." clink. the suit on your body phases off. he looks like he wants to stick you in his intake, drool and all.

"... touché."

[skelswritingcorner]

A Body So Stubborn (Mercenary! Reader fic Pt. 3)

Barely winning against making the TFP bots learn about the horrors of endometriosis, it's the 3rd part to my First Contact AU fic (though it barely feels like one anymore). I ended up splitting this into two parts because this is like 5 pages in the Google Doc.

Warnings/Tags: Injuries, blood, hospitals, mentions of unethical experiments, Megatron experiencing remorse for something he had no actual involvement in, mentions of dead parental figures, Prowl shows up I guess

Word Count: 2050

The third part is finally here! I was going to draw something for it, but I'm currently working on my 2.0 model (Vtubing stuff) so I pushed that off to the side.

“So,” the Cybertronian on the screen tilted his head, “you found a human in a solar system that, as far as our knowledge, has no humans on it?”

“Until now,” Ultra Magnus replied, “according to the files, she was brought to this place at eighteen months old, therefore her connection to her species is nonexistent. She appears to be the only human who’s lived here for any large period of time.”

“There are, however, a group of humans currently on the local planet right now. According to Skids, they’re here to help establish an interspecies alliance. Along with that,” Ultra Magnus showed his datapad; two similar human women on the screen were shown in separate images, “one of the humans of the group appears to have a strong physical resemblance to the one we found. Not only that, she claims that her sister was abducted at eighteen months old twenty years ago.”

“Interesting,” his blue optics flickered, “it’s too similar a connection to be a coincidence. Is Ailith on the Lost Light? I’d like to see her condition for myself.”

“First Aid brought her to the clinic her ship’s coordinates were originally at, Prowl. Once she’s back, I’ll contact you again.”

“Very well. Goodbye for now.” The video feed of the officer ended, and Ultra Magnus sighed. Did he expect to have a human on board the Lost Light? Not at all. However, this is an injured human, and as he was the one who realized that there was an injured organic on board, he felt the slightest feeling of responsibility over her despite never actually seeing her in person.

Ultra Magnus walked out of the communication room, seeing the Co-Captains talking amongst themselves. Once they noticed the officer, they turned to him.

“What did Prowl say?” Megatron asked.

“He’s not sure about how and why a human would be here prior to any intergalactic relations being established. He also wanted to see her for himself, but she’s at the clinic right now. That, and I don’t know how she’d feel around him of all ‘Bots.”

Rodimus laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, as long as we tell her first. It’s not like Ailith can fight in her current state.”

“I doubt that, Captain.” Magnus rebutted, “She’s adapted quickly to her current situation. Too quickly, if you ask me. Along with that, the planet she lives on has weapons designed to defeat Cybertronians. I’m confident that she has at least one weapon in her arsenal that she can use to defeat us if she truly wants to.”

“I know about those weapons.” Megatron said, Rodimus slowly turning with a horrified look. “I remember sending a team to this planet some thirty years prior because of potential energon deposits. The people used the remains of one of the ‘Cons I sent to reverse engineer weapons and other equipment that gave them an advantage. In fact, this might be the cause of Ailith’s subspaces as well. They could’ve tried creating subspaces, and tried to implement them on organic creatures. Including those from Earth.”

“Are you implying that it might be your fault for what happened to Ailith?” Rodimus asked.

“Who else could be to blame?”

“Let’s not dwell on that for too long, Captains.” Ultra Magnus looked at the datapad, “You didn’t know about the experiments until now, correct? Then it’s likely she doesn’t know either. First Aid said that Ailith’s been cleared to return to the Lost Light for recovery, so when she comes back you can ask her.”

“Do we have instructions on what to do?” Megatron asked.

“According to First Aid, it’s best to keep her from doing anything too strenuous. This includes training and combat. Along with that, she can only walk short distances. Her stitches are to remain for fourteen cycles total. Two cycles have passed, so that makes it twelve. As long as she doesn’t strain herself too much, she’ll be alright.” Magnus informed them.

“But who should she be with while she’s recovering? She’s smaller than Tailgate, literally half his height!” Rodimus asked.

“First Aid’s been taking care of her all this time, correct? Why not make a temporary space in his habsuite for her so he can make sure she’s recovering without complications?” Megatron suggested.

“That makes sense. As he’s one of the medics, he can treat her quickly if she gets injured.” Ultra Magnus agreed. “According to Drift and Ratchet, he’s been non-stop worrying over Ailith. It should be reassuring to him if she’s nearby.”

“Hmm…” Rodimus frowned, “Fine. Tell First Aid, and ask Skids and Velocity to get some stuff for her before we get back, I doubt we have anything right now to make sure she can have a smooth recovery.”

“I already asked them, Rodimus. They should be gathering some items right now with the help of someone that might be Ailith’s twin sister.”

“Great! I’m going to talk to Ratchet now. We’ll talk again later.” Rodimus turned on his heel and left the other two mechs standing there.

✩✩✩

The cycle in the hospital came and went. And now, you need to return to the Lost Light for the rest of your recovery. You would’ve protested if it wasn’t Aunt Daule who said that. Instead, you just sighed.

“So, I'm going to spend twenty or more days with them as I recover?” you asked.

Aunt Daule nodded. You understood that the clinic was pretty busy, so if they could they would have anyone who can recover outside the clinic so they can have space for those whose conditions are more severe, they would.

“Welp,” you slapped your knees, “I guess I’ll be stuck with that lot for a while. I’m fine with that though, I need to learn more about them in case I need to defeat a Cybertronian.”

Daule chuckled. “You talk just like your guardian. I remember hearing her many exploits back when they tried to take over our planet and failed, mostly when she charged in without hesitation. She’d use her magnetic grappling hook and a blade, get close to an exposed cable and slice it open. I’m glad to see you’ve inherited her fighting spirit.”

Both faces went solemn. Such goes the usual conversations whenever anyone brings up your first guardian. “It’s been almost five years, hasn’t it? Thirty-five more days until the anniversary.”

“Do you plan on going to her memorial?” you asked.

“Of course. I am, after all, Salva’s sister. It wouldn’t make sense for me to not visit the grave of a family member once in a while.” Aunt Daule answered.

“But that’s in more than a month. For now,” Aunt Daule patted your head, “make sure to focus on recovering. No straining yourself, alright?”

You nodded, and with your aunt’s arms as support you walked to the waiting room. You made sure to hold onto the box Makayla gifted you.

First Aid was already there, along with Tailgate. You walked to them, albeit with a slight limp.

“What are you holding?” Tailgate asked.

“It’s something from her sister.” First Aid answered for you.

“Did you meet her?” he asked again.

“She only came to drop off an injured friend the cycle before First Aid brought Ailith here.” Aunt Daule replied, “We did genetic testing, and they’re almost completely identical. After the testing she gave me the box Ailith is holding right now.”

Tailgate seemed fascinated. Do cybertronians have siblings, or is that an unfamiliar concept to them?

“Regardless of that, here,” Daule gave First Aid a document, “these are the instructions that should help with assisting Ailith in her recovery. She has a copy too, stored in her subspace.”

You nodded at what Aunt Daule said.

“We’ll return in twelve cycles, Dr. Daule!” First Aid said, picking you up. At this point, you’re used to being held by him. Aunt Daule waved, and the three of you departed.

Entering the pod, First Aid set you in a place that was relatively stable for you to sit down. While he piloted the pod back, Tailgate looked over at you.

“What’s in that box? You’ve been holding onto it this whole time.” he asked.

“Stuff from my twin that she asked Aunt Daule to give me. There’s a few pictures, including one of my niece who I just found out exists.” you replied, “Other than that, there’s some clothes.”

Tailgate tilted his head. “A niece?”

“The daughter of a sibling. In my case, my niece is the daughter of my older sister, Chloe MacArthur. I’m not sure if Cybertronians know about the concept of siblings, though.”

“Ooooooh,” Tailgate nodded, “sometimes sparks split in two. That’s the closest we have to siblings. Those are almost identical though.”

So, they sometimes have twins. Identical twins, just like you and Makayla.

“When we get back, I’ll show you the pictures.” you promised.

The pod slowed to a stop, and the door opened. Ratchet and… a cyan Cybertronian? He had red eyes and accents. His helmet was black, with two horn-adjacent finials extending out from the sides.

“Fortress Maximus,” First Aid exclaimed, “I’m surprised that you’re here!” He picked you up as well, placing you on the Cybertronian equivalent of his right shoulder blade before walking up to the two larger mechs.

“You must be Ailith,” the cyan mech put a hand over his chest, “I’m Fortress Maximus. The others informed me of your condition. I’m surprised you even survived the injuries Ratchet informed me that you have.”

You shrugged, “Eh. I’ve been operated on without painkillers and fully conscious. A few slashes and bullets aren’t that bad.”

Oops, you overshared. Fortress Maximus AND Ratchet are looking at you in horror. First Aid tensed up.

“Out of all things you could’ve said… Wait, you were fully conscious? Wouldn’t that hurt?”

Fuck it. You did this to yourself, nothing to hide now. “No shit it hurt! I still have the memory of seeing my intestines on hooks while they put that thing inside me, and when they put the subspaces on my body. As they did for all the other experiments.”

“That’s horrible!” If Cybertronians could cry, Tailgate would be doing that right now. “I can’t believe that anyone would do that, especially to a child!”

“Anyway,” Ratchet spoke before anyone could say anything, “First Aid, the captains assigned her to your habsuite so her recovery can be monitored closely. Skids and Velocity acquired some items to make sure Ailith’s comfortable.”

First Aid nodded, “I’ll bring her to my habsuite, then.” And so, he walked past the two taller mechs.

He’s been holding you for a while now, should you say something? It’s probably better to say something.

“You know you don’t have to carry me everywhere, right?” you asked him.

First Aid’s vocalizer choked, “I- You’re just small, that’s all! Most of the ‘Bots might not realize you’re there since you’re so tiny! Also, you’re still recovering from your wounds. Dr. Daule said that you shouldn’t walk too much as the leg wound recovers, right?”

“Touche.” You felt his grip on your thigh tighten slightly, as if he’s doubling down on keeping you right where you were. It’s understandable though, organic species compared to hulking machines are so delicate, especially those with injuries or preexisting medical conditions.

The rest of the walk was done in silence, which was fine with you. Talking isn’t exactly your best skill, after all. After First Aid went to his habsuite, he placed you on the desk that didn’t have much on it, but that’s something that you didn’t really care about. There were a few soft blankets and a few pillows, likely things the two others Ratchet mentioned. What were their names again? Velocity and… Skids?

Why is that name familiar? You swear that you knew someone who was called Skids. Your caretaker mentioned a large mechanical being with that name who helped save you from that facility, transporting you both to Aunt Daule so you could get treated. You’re pretty sure you bled on him, is he mad about it?

Oh well, it can’t be helped. You’ll find out after you sleep. Cautiously crawling into the blanket pile, you wrapped one of them around you before laying down. “I’m going to bed, see you later.”

First Aid nodded, “Please rest well.”

[theangrycomet-art]

Inferno's Rookies: QuickStrike and Tagger

There so cute, it's a good thing they have an older, somewhat-responsible bot making sure they stay out of any REAL danger. >:)

the two recruits I mentioned in Inferno's post

Random Tidbits:

QuickStrike:

Jumpy & hyperaware of his surroundings

slightly paranoid, my

tendency to think outloud has led to a bad a muttering habit

was assigned to Inferno because he has experience with working with nervous bots

itchy trigger finger

earned his designation/name after unintentionally starting a brawl when one of his barrack buddies bumped into him

went to the same boot camp as Moonracer, but the two have lost touch over the years

signed up for search and rescue under Rodimus' recommendation, as he would be able to think of any potential spot any bot might have ended up waiting for help (trying to turn his weakness into a strength)

greatly admires Inferno and enjoys his job but wishes Tagger would quick messing with him

weapons: bolo cannon, spear & net

Tagger:

grumpy workaholic

didn't want to work in search and rescue and is still bitter about her reassignment

she'd wanted to be an elite guard but was expelled from the Academy, for her temper (more specifically, she assaulted a professor when a debate got too heated)

she had been training under Novastar before she took her new position on Elita's squadron

she was transferred to Inferno, seeing as he was friends with NS and had only one recruit in training at the time

overcharged spark

symptoms: processor migraines, overreactive EMF field, t-cog jamming, yellowed optics

like most with O!Sparks, her body wasn't able to build a proper outlet for the excess energy before fully developing

takes specially filtered energon to minimize her symptoms

from ports in her palms she's able to place trackers on any metallic surface

the target can be tracked anywhere so long as they are on the same planet from the gps on her wrists

likes to mess with Quickstrike's head

weapons: laser knuckleduster, retractable blades in her heel and toe

she loves getting into brawls more than her mentor does, not that her line of work allows much for that

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