#possibly prime or ending in a prime digit

[yappacadaver]

I'd give yumi the same birthday as me but idk it don't feel right

[quixotical-lymbo]

Pairing: D-16/Megatron x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: After witnessing your conjunx endura descend into madness, you're left alone with your thoughts as the city of Iacon slowly begins to rebuild anew. However, your lover visits you the night he was banished from the city.  Warnings/Tags: Bittersweet, slight angst, cybertronian reader, pre-established relationship, possible corruption, ambiguous ending, and spoilers for the Transformers One movie.  Word Count: 1200+ words 

Something was wrong. 

You knew something was wrong when you felt something burst within your spark chamber. Your digits brushed against the space where your T-cog would be and…

You winced as the pain shot through the bond again. You could describe it as the feeling of sharp pieces of Energon flowing through your circuits. Hot and angry, then as somber as ice. 

Working in the Energon mines meant that danger could be lurking around the corner at any given moment. 

You understood this fact well, especially when working in the same crew as your sparkmate and his best friend. 

The rambunctious duo always had something going wrong for them as the cycles passed. Sometimes you ended up with the short end of the stick when you joined in on the 'fun.' On the other, you were watching from the sidelines as the two would get punished for their (mostly Orion's) schemes. The emotions shared through the bond were as warm as joy, slight pinches coming from D's annoyance, and the gentle touch of the love you two shared discreetly. 

 

So, why were you only sensing pain? 

What was happening to your lover? Was he safe? Did someone hurt him? Where was Pax while your conjunx endura's chaotic turmoil nearly made your optics teary? 

Where was he? 

Where was D-16? 

 

—--

Orion was shorter….the last time you interacted with him. 

Now? He easily towered over the crowd like a sore digit. You were beside yourself as your strained audials to listen to his words. 

Betrayal, Sentinel, Change. 

They were empowering, not quite heavy but it certainly stirred hope among the miners as they cheered. 

But, what of D-16? 

For a moment, Orion's optics met yours and confirmed your fears.

Something had happened to D-16. 

Here in the open for all of the citizens of Iacon to see was the fall of Sentinel Prime. His end? An impostor sharing the face of your mate who claimed the title of 'Megatron.' 

Who was this stranger with the face of your lover and why couldn't you feel him through the bond anymore? 

You remembered trying to tug at the bond, pulling and twisting to get something to react in response to your desperation. Your optics never strayed from the figure who stood above all of you. 

Yet, nothing came. Wait…

You could have sworn you saw 'Megatron's' optics scanning the crowd before they found their way to yours. 

Time slowed for the first time and you tried to search for anything, something in that stranger's optic for any presence of D-16. 

For a moment, the fiery glow of those optics dimmed. 

Then….

He turned away and never looked back in the direction where you stood again. 

Not even after Orion Pax, now Optimus Prime, banished him from Iacon. 

Your spark broke that day. 

Darkness covered the desolate area where most miners spend their nights in recharge. You stood before your conjunx endura berth, digits caressing the chipped stickers he had collected over time of his idol. The lights shining from your optics misted and you leaned closer to rest your forehelm on the space that once belonged to D-16. 

"____." A voice spoke from behind you.

You spun around and threw a punch, but the massive servo enveloping your servo stunned you. 

"D…?" You murmured in disbelief. 

'D-16' narrowed his optics and didn't respond when you pulled your servo out of his. 

"It's...Megatron now." 

"Right, right, sorry…I'm a little late on the new…this," You threw your hand up to gesture to his shiny, new frame. 

'Megatron' didn't appear amused at your sass and even drew closer to you. His steps felt daunting with each step he took as if the ground of the miners quarters would buckle beneath his weight. 

Backing up against the berth put into perspective how smaller you were compared to the mech. Megatron stepped closer and closed the distance between the two of you. He raised a servo near your faceplate, a low growl left his intake as you turned defiantly. 

 

"Did you not see why I had to do this? Why I had to become-" 

"-Ha!" You snorted and snapped your helm to look at him. "You mean when I tried 'seeing' you earlier? I'm pretty sure I wasn't the one who cut off their sparkmate from the bond  for no reason." 

"And another thing." You pushed against the edges of the berth and stepped forward with your chassis bumping against his. The larger mech could easily shove you back, but retreated as you approached. The silver mech mesmerized by the way your optics flickered into a darker shade only to snap out of it when you questioned him with, "Why did you return to me? Why now? I was certain you'd abandon me-" 

"-do you think so lowly of me as well?!" Megatron pushed back. His servo stretched to catch you when you stumbled, but dropped it when you flinched from his approaching touch. 

His servo was clenched as he drew it back to his side. Digits rubbed together to replace the lack of heat that usually came from your frame held under his grasp.

With a tilt of your helm, you asked, "I don't know anymore…one moment I'm happy spending the rest of my days with my sparkmate, but he disappears, and then returns as a power-hungry tyrant…what else am I supposed to think of you, D…no…Megatron?" 

Megatron did not speak, not that he knew how to. 

Silence fell upon the lovers, neither willing to break the tension. Not until now. 

"I came here…to see you," D-16 yielded. His soft voice easing the suspicion gnawing at you ever since he arrived, finally your frame went lax as his face became familiar. This was your conjunx endura, the one you bonded with and not whoever was there previously. 

"To ask if you'll join me, my love." 

"What?" You hissed. 

"Come with me," Megatron urged. "I have risked everything coming back here for you and I will not ask again." 

You brought a servo to your helm and felt a pit grow in your tanks. 

"Join me because I promise you…" Megatron leaned down to hold your gaze, "...the next time we see each other will be the end of us." 

"I…" You glanced at his servo that reached for you, most likely for the last time. Your optical ridges furrowed and Megatron's optics shimmered with delight as your servo fell over his. The larger servo enveloped the smaller one and pressed the palm of your servo against his spark chamber. Right over the area where Sentinel's previous cog was ripped out of him. 

The memory struck a chord in you. Becoming the thing to make you sober from the high of what this relationship could have been. Should have been. 

It could still happen, only if you said yes…but what fate would fall on Iacon if you joined the one bot desiring the destruction of the new era? 

Megatron watched the conflict swimming on your face, his thumb caressing the back of your servo as the other came up to settle on your waist. 

 

After a while, you gave him your answer. 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. banner(s) by @kodaswrld !!

[jweekgoji]

Hiii I really like your writings and headcanons, especially the ones with yandere sentinel from TF 1 being a sub and us being a power femdom.id really appreciate it if you could write about yn or us finding sentinel after Megatron kills him and we repair sentinel just for him to be our dedicated servant boy put on a leash his entire life.

If you don't feel comfortable with the request you can ignore it and take your time no pressure! ❤️

Sentinel/Reader [TFO]

tw: dark themes, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, touch starvation/co-dependency, brief description of past trauma, anxiety, mentions of death, injuries, angst, dubcon [at the end], reader gets a little yandere-ish. word count: ~1830. a/n: i like this request so much, hehehe.

When you first saw your leader being ripped apart by one of the iaconian miners, you were devastated and as shocked as everyone else. Waking up early today, getting ready for another, long and tiring day of work only to suddenly learn that the bot you looked up to was lying to everyone for 50 cycles?

It felt so surreal, here you were standing over the Sentinel Prime. Ruler of Iacon City yesterday, and a leftover piece of scrap today. You're still not certain how you feel about him after what happened. Maybe it was a remnant of admiration for him, after all, how much has passed since the fight?

You were probably standing there for a good few minutes, staring down at Sentinel, not a word or a flick of emotion on your face. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps behind you and a large servo placed on your shoulder.

“You don't have to do this, I can take care of him if you want,” Optimus says carefully. For some reason, the young Prime already felt responsible for his people.

There was a brief silence between the two of you before you shook your helm in response. You didn't want to bother Optimus with this, knowing that he had gone through enough for the past few days. This is the least you can do, helping with rebuilding a new Iacon and getting rid of the past.

A soft sigh escapes your lips once Optimus leaves you alone. This wasn't supposed to be so hard, wasn't it? Just pick him up, and then...what else? Does Sentinel, the selfish betrayer of his own kind, deserve some respect even after his death? To bury him might be a too much of a kind gesture from you, considering that he had no kindness for anyone but himself. On the other hand, melting his remnants still doesn't sound right for you.

You would have kept thinking about it for hours, until a brief, almost too light to notice pulsating of a spark under the tips of your digits caught your attention. You pause, in mind an immediate “am I imagining this? was it real?”, it felt like everything just went quiet around you. A soft beat, then another. Despite everything, the spark inside his chamber was still beating.

And so, you decided to take care of him.

It was a miracle that he survived. The impact of his injuries should have left him dead, you swear, no, everyone swear to see the light goes off from his optics. He was dead, there are no possible explanation for him not to stay offline like he supposed to be. Some might consider it a blessing of Primus himself, for you just a pure luck.

Outliving 13 Primes, somehow not getting killed by quintessons during one of the secret meetings, and now you, the bot who decided to let him live, even though ignoring everything might have been the best solution.

After countless days of work, you are finally able to stabilize his systems, fixing up a few dents here and there, probably left after his last fight with the silver bot. For a cogless miner before, that mech was surprisingly strong, you note.

You hold a piece of a small energon cube in the palm of your servo. Was it the right choice? You never tell anyone, not even Optimus about what you have found. You knew Sentinel would be thrown in prison, if lucky, or hunted down by Megatron if the news reached him. No, you already went too far, letting anyone find out about Sentinel would be a huge mistake. That's why you made sure he didn't get to keep his lower half of the body. He should never be able to leave.

When you gently pushed the energon cube into his mouth, letting it slip down his throat, you waited. A second of silence...another few—until his optics begin to shine light blue once again. You open your mouth to start explaining everything, but you are immediately interrupted by a loud “no!” and you have to clamp your servo over his mouth to make him quiet.

The mech in front of you remembers only the last few seconds before he went offline, that burning pain through his whole body is now forever printed in his mind. You can see the genuine fear in his optics, which soon changed into surprise once he processed everything. He wasn't in the center of Iacon. No one, but you were around him.

Only after a good few minutes of soft explaining calmed his raising spark. Sentinel was relieved, after all, there are some loyal worshippers of his who took care of him and repaired him! As you stood in front of the former leader, you made sure to leave no details about everything that happened after. A new Prime was born, and D-16, now well known as Megatron, is one of the future concerns for everyone in Iacon besides quintessons. Even after his «death» Sentinel made sure to leave a huge impact on your lives for cycles and cycles in the future.

“And about...the other part of me?” Sentinel asks, glancing down where his lower half should be before looking back at you.

You go silent for a mere second before a quick “I wasn't able to repair it” excuse slips from your glossa.

Thankfully, he swallows this response rather quickly, and without questioning any further, that smug smirk appears on his face, ready to boss you again. It was amusing at first. In such a position, Sentinel forgets, he's a no Prime anymore, just another cogless bot left at your mercy.

You were merciful enough to let him live in this fantasy, letting him think that he has that control over something, despite how annoying he gets whenever you don't do something immediately. What do you mean you have to leave him? He's Sentinel Prime, you should obey and listen to him!...Please?

Maybe in the back of his mind, he slowly realizes it. He's dependent. He can't live without you, he can't even reach for a cube of an energon for himself without you kindly putting it on the tip of his glossa. If you suddenly decide to leave him, he's all alone. That takes a good sacrifice of his own pride to give you a few signs, angrily growling a “Don't you dare to leave!” or “I am not done with you, come back this instant!”.

When you had to leave today once again, making him suffer in the silence of his own thoughts and a soft humming of mechanisms in this room, he felt insecure. He hates it, waiting and counting the seconds until you finally come back to him. How could you disrespect him like this? Who do you think you are, huh?

“Oh, please, leave then! I don't need you anyway,” Sentinel says proudly, rolling his optics with a slight annoyance hidden in his tone.

He doesn't need your help, if you leave, it would change nothing for him. You're just another nameless bot, the one who supposed to serve and listen to him, after all. If you don't want to do what he says, there will certainly be someone else to replace you. Right?

Then why, why he feels that deep, suffocating feeling every time you leave? When he calls your name over and over again, his tone changes from an authoritative to a weak, pleading one. No, no, no, you wouldn't really leave him, would you? He panics, breathing a little heavy at the realization that there he is, with no one but him in here. He's so, so screwed.

With each passing hour, his anxiety grows even more. From the most ridiculous to the most horrifying scenarios, he can't help but silently plead for your soon return. A constant “come back, please, please come back, you can't just leave me here,” in his thoughts. Sentinel would certainly go insane if it weren't for a soft hiss of an opening door. You were back.

Once you are close to him, he quickly wraps his servos around you, clinging to your frame for a dear life. You can hear him, muttering something under his breath over and over again, and without a need to ask him to repeat his words, you understand everything.

“I would never leave you, Sentinel,” you say softly, placing your servo on the side of his face, only for him to lean into it, as if begging for more.

“Please don't,” he whispers back, his servo moving to the back of your helm, making you lean closer to his height so he could kiss you.

Who would have thought that Sentinel Prime is such a touchstarved mech? Begging someone to notice him? Like you? If only you had known that leaving a poor bot for a good day or two all alone would make him such a sucker for attention, you would have done it much sooner.

And suddenly Sentinel is not that annoying, noisy menace, as you remember. Every soft sound he lets out, every gentle caress and touch of his servos on your frame, feels like a desperate attempt to make you stay. He wants to show you that he's worthy of your time, if only you stay!

Sentinel's hold on you is tight, as he keeps you right next to him, afraid that the moment he lets go, you're going to disappear. Just a mere thought of it makes him whine into the kiss, and he pushes his glossa into your mouth, as if hoping to please you.

The moment you pull away from him, Sentinel grips tighter, mewling a soft “no”, a look of desperation in his optics. You can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction from it. How couldn't you, when you have someone who is always so needy of your attention? Always looking forward to the moment you come back?

At this point, he doesn't care what he has to do to keep you with him for another minute or two. The old, commanding and cruel part of him is so ashamed of what he has become. Any other good day in past, you would already be mining energon and hoping for a better future, and he would be a king, just like he was supposed to.

“Please, use me, however you want just— just don't go,” he pleads once again, his servos tightening around your wrists, wanting and needing you closer.

And how can you really tell him no if he asks you so, so nicely today?

You only nod gently at his another plead, placing your servo on top of his helm to gently nudge him lower and to position him between your thighs. Sentinel was so great with every word of his speeches that it's no surprise that he certainly knows how to use his own tongue.

[genericpuff]

holy crap okay so

I'm two episodes into Kaos

normally I keep my expectations pretty minimal because, let's be real, the Internet - and especially Tumblr - has a tendency to severely overhype new series to be way better than they actually are and it often leaves me sitting there like "that's it? that's what people were freaking out over for weeks?? that was just a bunch of cheap ships and tropes that i've seen 123785902380 times before" LMAO

BUT thankfully compared to other series like Hazbin Hotel and The Amazing Digital Circus, I haven't been worn out on excessive fandom exposure prior to watching Kaos, so I didn't really know what to expect going in besides what folks have told me so far - it's a modern-day Greek epic, and it stars Jeff Goldblum as Zeus (which is, unsurprisingly, peak casting).

That said, I'm very pleased to say that so far, the show is absolutely blowing me away. The set designs, characterizations, weaving of all the players into a central narrative led by a very coy narrator, all of it feels both refreshing and respectful to the source material at the same time.

so uh yeah that LO animated TV show... we have reason to believe now that it's gotten picked up by Amazon Prime, at least according to the showrunner's LinkedIn and posting history from February of this year that seems to imply LO may have been picked up by Amazon-

(but still, nothing's really been confirmed because they're being so tight-lipped about this you'd almost think it's because there isn't a show happening at all cough)

But even then, that means at best we still won't see anything of the LO TV show adaption for another 2-3 years, depending on how production goes.

Why am I talking about LO right now? Well it should be obvious - Kaos double-whammied LO by beating it to the punch at its own game.

I mean, just look at the creative choices alone in the design of the Underworld and its rulers, our beloved Hades and Persephone.

And yes, the entire Underworld is color-graded like this, something so simple and yet effective in communicating the nature of the Underworld and what it stands for - a place where the past lives on through the dead, paused in time, devoid of the vibrant color grading found in Olympus - or "Olympia" as its been named in this retelling - which is, by the way, a visual treat to take in every time it's featured.

(and yes, that is S-tier-companion Billie Piper on the left, but I will not tell you who she's playing, you actually really should go into this show as blind as possible for the thrill of figuring out these characters as they're introduced <3)

That's not even getting into the narrative structure of the plot itself or the phenomenal casting and acting, but again, I don't want to spoil too much as the show is quite new, and I want to actually finish watching the show myself before I get more into the details of its story and how it delivers it (I'm very much hoping I will still be singing this show's praises at the end of its 8 episodes, please for the love of god don't jump the shark, I don't think my heart can take that kind of pain again.)

All that's to say though, Kaos is, so far, exactly what us disappointed fans of LO deserve after all these years, and frankly, I feel like whatever is coming for the LO animated TV show is really gonna have to step up to the plate to both live up to the bar that Kaos has set as well as stand on its own without being affiliated as a cheap Amazon knockoff living in its shadow. Sounds a little familiar and a bit ironic, doesn't it?

[cyberrose2001]

Can we pretty please have some angsty fluff?

Maybe Optimus Prime from TFP returning to Earth because he missed his s/o. (Let's pretend RID never existed. Please.) Maybe he left on a bad note and they told him that they'd never forgive him. And once he's back, she's completely ignoring him and she's trying her best to avoid him at all costs

You can choose what to do in the end. I want to see your mind wander :DD

Unforgiven Goodbyes

TFP Optimus x human! gn! reader

whoops

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury/blood, mental struggles, just straight-up angst.

Word count: 2,475

You're pissed off. No, you're more than pissed off. A tangle of emotions that would take a lifetime to detangle in your mind. You are pissed off, heartbroken, angry, yet excruciatingly relieved to see him.

But you can't bring yourself to face him again. That beautiful, other-worldly sculpted face seems to torment you whenever you close your eyes. That moment when he looked back at you before he plunged himself into the Well of Allsparks, the look of apologetic heroicness. It burned into your brain and left a nasty scab that you can't help but pick at. But the scar has healed. You've disciplined yourself to stop scratching it, but watching him walk through the hangar doors ripped it open once again.

You've distracted yourself as much as you can. Doing pointless chores around the new base the bots have made themselves at home with, going for long walks outside by yourself, hiding around every corner when you hear that rumbling voice. You tried everything to keep the wound closed, to pretend that he's still dead, to justify all the mourning you've gone through all these years.

Another reason not to face him was how you reacted when he told you his plan. You were the first to know, and you've never felt your heart sink so fast. It was like he had struck a dagger to your stomach and kissed you as you were bleeding out. You had exploded with anger you couldn't control and stormed out before he could do anything about it. You screamed at him as he collapsed onto his knees that you would never forgive him, and so far, you've kept that promise. The next time you saw him was before he made his great sacrifice, and you had nothing else to say to him. You couldn't say anything else.

And you won't for a long time, not when you have headphones on to block out the world. You stand at the sink in the human kitchen. It's semi-exposed to the main base, with a half-wall shielding the stove and sink. You're not sure why it's exposed; it must be concerning the lack of rooms in this old military bunker. You don't care anyway. You only care about scrubbing the dishes beyond clean and slamming them onto the drying rack before you break the delicate ceramic plates from gripping them too hard.

While cleaning the dishes, you don't realise how much of a racket you're making with your music blasting and capture the attention of the one bot you were trying to avoid.

Optimus.

He looks at you curiously, a hint of longing in his optics. Optimus knows you're avoiding him, and it's so blatantly obvious that everyone notices, too, creating tension through the base you could cut with a sharp enough knife. He wants to talk to you. He needs to talk to you. And so far, this is the only opportunity he's stumbled upon that could make it possible. Though, he doesn't want to frighten you and scare you away. He needs to be gentle and cautious in his actions, but it's difficult when you can't hear or see him.

Optimus reaches out, his servo twitching at how gentle he's trying to be. He touches your shoulder with a single digit but retracts his servo quickly when you jump out of your skin and drop a plate on the floor, shattering the ceramic in all different directions.

You scream then seethe, ripping your headphones off to face whoever dares to lay a finger on you, "Why the fuck would you-"

Frozen in your tracks, you stare at Optimus, the longest you've looked at him in a long time. Your heart snaps in two again, and the wound in your mind festers with flashbacks before you try to make a run for it. You don't get far, though, before you step on a piece of broken ceramic and cry out in pain.

"Ah!" You fall back on the ground, clutching your lower leg, "Fuck it-"

"Y/n, I am so sorr-"

"N-No!" You practically spit in his face. You let go of your leg and scramble backwards into a corner. With nowhere else to go, you turn to face him again and watch how his grip tightens on the railing before him. If looks could kill, Optimus would still be dead. Maybe you secretly hoped it was possible, "Get away from me."

"Please, you're hurt," Optimus looks down at your bare foot, now bleeding heavily onto the floor from a deep gash.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, not giving a damn that you're bleeding. You've been through worse, after all, "Oh, so now you care?"

Optimus tilts his helm, "What? I have always cared-"

"Oh really? You're really going to do this, Optimus?" You growl, grabbing the bench above you to pull yourself up, "You didn't seem to care about me when you sacrificed yourself! No, scratch that," You point a bloody finger at him, "When you fucking abandoned me!"

Optimus's shoulders sink, his grip on the railing relaxing as he feels like you've plunged a knife into him, "I did not-" He sighs heavily, like he cannot find the words, "Please... let us get you to Ratchet."

"I don't need his or- or your help," You hobble on one foot, hissing in pain as you make your way to anywhere else on the planet. The blood smears on the floor with every misguided step as you pass by him with a cold shoulder, "I've managed just fine on my own, Prime." You sneer at him.

Optimus watches you hop down the stairs, and he slumps his frame down on the railing. His vocaliser rumbles with regret and pain at how you're treating him. And it's not like he can blame you. Optimus would probably be stricken with the same grief if a lover of his decided to sacrifice themselves; he'd be absolutely distraught. And all that distraught just for them to return like it was a mere week-long vacation? Well, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He thought you would be overjoyed and run up to him with that beautiful smile on your lips, perhaps even beg for one of those joyrides he always loved taking you on through the desert. He thought you would've missed him, the bare minimum for someone who has lost a loved one.

Optimus sighs and lifts his helm from the railing before turning on his pedes to look for something else to distract him from you. He looks down before he takes a step and sees your trail of smeared blood on the concrete. His optic ridges furrow, a look of determination and apprehension as he steps to follow your crimson breadcrumbs out of the hangar doors.

Before he reaches the hangar doors, a soft touch plants itself on his shoulder, and he jolts slightly. Optimus turns his helm down to see a gloomy look on Ratchet's face, his servo squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Let them go, Optimus," He speaks softly, "They need some space."

Space is the only thing he's given them so far.

-

"Stupid fucking dishes. Stupid me. Stupid him."

Your fingers tremble as you rip some of your shirt off to wrap around the gash in your foot. The minor hit of adrenaline quickly left you like a hit of nic as soon as you slumped down on the other side of the hangar outside. The dull throbbing turns into sharp pain as you tighten the fabric, causing a small whimper to leave your throat. You relax your head against the concrete wall behind you, wishing you could slam it against it instead. But anger slowly drains from your frame, and you bury your face into your dirty hands, and you sob—a heartbreaking sight to anyone that were to stumble upon you.

But you find that the tears weren't mourning from him, but for yourself.

How selfish are you? Are you so dense in the head that you're blindsighted to how much he loves you? How much Optimus missed you that even after facing the hereafter, he came back for you? How awful must the afterlife be for him to want to come back to you, of all people? These questions come flooding into your mind with every tear-jerking sob that wracks your body. But the one question at the forefront of your mind terrifies you, making you want to slump further into the self-deprecating aura you've swallowed yourself in.

Do you still love him?

You bite your lip hard. Do you still love him? That's a stupid question to ask yourself. Of course you still love him. You wouldn't be the person you are today if you never did.

Then why the fuck do you push him away?

You don't know. Maybe it was how you spoke to him before he took his own spark, being so ashamed of yourself that you could barely look at him. Or perhaps you've become too comfortable in your new adjustment to life without him, and for that to all come crumbling down so suddenly with no warning has shaken you to your core.

That's very selfish of you.

You know that. You've always known that.

Maybe you just weren't ready to let go.

A deep, trembling breath leaves your parted lips.

...

Yeah, you know.

-

Optimus stealthily follows the trail once again after Ratchet leaves. He just can't walk away after that encounter. And as much as it hurts him to see your reaction, he must ensure you're okay despite whatever you spit in his face. Optimus did not beg at the throne of Primus himself for another chance at nothing. He needs to make amends, no matter how much of a fight you put up at your wishes to be left alone.

Soft steps of his pedes lead him on a wild goose chase. It seemed as if you had stumbled around in circles for quite some time, the trail of blood looping around before overlapping itself to follow the edge of the hangar. Optimus become increasingly concerned about your welfare, worried you have lost too much blood. But he knows that you are tough if all these years on your own have anything to show for it.

His pace replaces stealth for hastiness as he continues on the trail, rounding the next corner of the hanger. He stops in his tracks when he sees you, and his eyes soften with pure broken-heartness. His servos clenching in regret.

He carefully approaches your slumped frame and stands before you. He first notices your foot, half bandaged and leaking slightly. You weren't wrong after all. You could take care of yourself. He smiles softly to himself at this.

Optimus carefully kneels in front of you, still a fair distance away. All he wants to do is pick you up and tell you that everything is alright, that he's here and not ready to leave again anytime soon.

He keeps his servos to himself for now.

"Y/n," Optimus begins softly, "I know you are upset," This seems like an all too familiar conversation, "And you have every right to be."

No reaction from you so far, a few sobs and hiccups. His spark clenches.

"I did not get a chance to tell you how truly thankful I am for you," Optimus continues, fidgeting with a digit in his lap, "How I still reminisce on our long-forgotten time together, even whilst I was merged with the All Spark."

Optimus takes a chance. He shuffles closer to you and gently pries your hands from your face like you were a pretty piece of wrapping paper he wanted to keep. His optics drag over your sodden face, how your eyes begin to focus on his. It wasn't the fiery look of anger he had seen just earlier but one that looked of surrender; you had given up a fight he wished he could've helped you with.

Optimus moves one servo from your hands to gently caress your face, a gentle digit brushing over your cheeks, "My, just look at you," He cups your chin softly, tilting your head to look up at him, "You are still as beautiful as ever."

He watches as the tears well in your eyes again, a small glimmer in your eyes that's more familiar to him than the dull. You grip his servo and pull it into a hug, resting your forehead on his wrist, and you cry.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry...I-I'm stupid... I shouldn't have..." You sob, clutching onto him with every fibre of your being, "Oh god..."

Optimus's spark fizzles and cracks at your heart-breaking apology and the tears dripping onto his servo. He gives you a sombre look before carefully pulling you into his servos, picking you up to press you against his chassis to return his long-awaited affections.

"Shh," He hushes your cries, pressing a gentle kiss to your head as he rocks you softly like a slumbering sparkling, "It is alright; nothing you say could ever make me resent you."

You sniffle, burying your head into his chassis. His familiar scent of motor oil and fumes fills your senses and relaxes you deeper into him. You try to speak, to say anything other than hiccuping pathetically.

"I-" You stutter, ripping your face away from his chassis to stare up at him. A shaky hand reaches up to touch him, a tiny 'tink' as your fingernail grazes against his face plate. He's real, he's here, and he's not mad at you. And the best thing is, he forgives you.

And you forgive him.

"I missed you," You take a sharp breath, "I miss you so much."

Optimus' sombre frown turns into a small smile; a weight lifts off his frame at your admission. The worry he put himself through all seems to melt away as he presses a soft kiss to your lips, hoping to melt away your grief with the kiss along with his.

You gasp softly. Far too much time has passed since you've felt those gentle dermas meld into yours, and as much as the past you wanted to forget how his touches felt, you find yourself kissing him back with as much need and passion. A few fleeting moments pass before you're forced to part for a much-needed breath. It feels like life has returned to you, like after all this time without him you were holding your breath in fear of drowning.

Optimus closes his optics, softly pressing his forehead against yours, leaning into the warm touch of your hands that he oh so craved. He knows you still love him, he never once doubted that deep down inside you always did, even after he had regretfully abandoned you.

"I miss you too."

Finally. He felt good to say that.

[bones4thecats]

you could do, Breakdown x fembot pregnant reader x Knockout. all three are conjux. 💙❤

TFP! KnockDown w/ their Carrying! S/O

Characters: Knockout and Breakdown (Transformers Prime) Requester: 💙❤Anon A/N: I jinxed myself in my last post lol. Short my ass!!! XD ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Nothing ⚠️

Disclaimer: This is set in a timeline where Breakdown lives and joins the Autobots alongside Knockout and their S/O before the film!

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Knockout and Breakdown ═══════════════════╝

🪚🥊 You were very content with your two sparkmates. While it was normally unusual to have more than one with your species, nobody really judged you for it, which surprised the three of you, as you lived on the Nemesis full of judgmental 'Cons

🪚 Knockout was very pleased to have both you and Breakdown by his side. He adored how strong Breakdown was and how intelligent you were. It was like you two were the two sides of a coin while he was the ridge that surrounded you both in a welded-mixture

🥊 Breakdown was like Knockout, he was happy to be with you both. He and Knockout went quite a bit back, but when he met you, he felt that you completed them both perfectly, allowing Knockout to be the perfect middle-ground to your Yin-Yang bond with Breakdown

🪚🥊 The two mechs were happy to live a life with their sparkmates. But, this was turned on their helms when you found out that you were carrying

🪚🥊 If they had it up to their choices, they would've held the carrying-process for after the War ended to keep you and your future-sparklings safe from any danger. But alas, Primus had to be cruel sometimes

🪚🥊 The duo decided to try keeping this from Megatron as best as possible. He had no care for anything happy, so if he were to find out that you were carrying, who knows what would happen to not only them for hiding this and technically causing it, but what was happen to you and your offspring?

🪚 Knockout proposed finding a way in old records to keep the sparklings growing in a tube of energon so they would be fed and grow at a constant and healthy-rate, though you declined and didn't like the risks it would give you guys

🥊 Breakdown was silent throughout the process. He had no idea what you guys could do in the situation, he wasn't specializing in anything other than destroying things and taking orders from his superiors

🪚🥊 After nearly an Earth-week long discussion with your sparkmates, it was leaked that you were carrying, which did not put you guys in good-waters with Megatron

🪚🥊 He called you three to the main room, and you stood nervously between the two mechs. You could hear the light tapping of your Lord's claw-like digits against the keyboard, and it was a very scary noise at the moment

"I heard that you're carrying, Y/N. Is that correct?" He asked.

"Yes, Lord Megatron."

"Why keep such information away from me?"

"We were just in shock from the announcement, my Lord. It was more of a 'heat-of-the-moment' kind of thing, you know?" Knockout said.

🪚🥊 Megatron nodded and looked down at you, making you slightly shiver in fear as his red-optic glare nearly bore holes into your processor. It was as if he wanted you dead more than he wanted the Prime defeated

🪚🥊 Your Lord blinked and looked up at the two 'Cons behind you, glancing at you before looking them both in their optics before saying the thing that would push you guys to your edge

"If there are any complications; I want that thing exterminated, no matter the cost. Understood?"

"Y-yes, sir." Knockout replied, bowing to the larger mech.

"Understood..." Breakdown agreed.

🪚🥊 It was that night that you three left for a drive before contacting the Autobots, much to their confusion and anger. Why were these three; three of their biggest adversaries in the Decepticons, wishing to speak?

🪚🥊 The Autobots appeared from their Ground-Bridge and saw you three standing there, Breakdown's arm being wrapped around you as you shivered and fearfully thinking about the future of your child if they were to be exterminated

🪚 Knockout stared at the 'Bots and sighed, walking up to them so he could speak face-plate to face-plate with their leader, Optimus Prime

"We're sorry for interrupting your night, Autobots," he began. "But, there were some issues that came up with us and we are... in need of your assistance."

"Why are you needing our help?" Bulkhead asked.

🪚🥊 You freed yourself from Breakdown's grasp and walked up to the Autobot team, reaching into your compact-space and pulling out a digital pad, showing them an image of your spark, two little balls of Cybertronian-life floating beside it, one having a cherry-red color while the other had a blue-glow

"You're carrying?" Ratchet asked.

"They are. And Megatron found out..." Breakdown said.

"You want to keep them safe from danger, am I correct?" Optimus said, looking at the two 'Cons for any sign of deceit, only to find none.

"Yes." They said together.

🪚🥊 The others looked at Optimus for his answer, and were surprised when he looked at you and pat your shoulder-pad before moving it to lightly rub your helm gently, much like how a Sire or Carrier would help their sparkling calm down their processor during development

"They can stay with us." He said, smiling at the two mechs.

🪚🥊 Breakdown and Knockout smiled and looked at you. You just looked back and stepped up to them, wrapping your arms around one of their neck's each, pulling them into their own sides of your own neck

"You'll be safe, beautiful." Knockout said in your audio sensor.

"We'll contact you daily, okay? Promise!" Breakdown added.

🪚🥊 Optimus and the others watched with slight pity. Yes, they were their enemies, but seeing just how much they cared for one another made them wonder; should they really separate them all?

🪚🥊 Before the two of them walked off, Optimus called their names, making them turned around in confusion

"Separating a sparkling from their Sire, or rather Sires, is horrible... so..."

🪚🥊 Sighing before holding his servos out for them to shake if they wanted too, Optimus finished;

"Would you care to join us as well?"

[silverior968]

Look, I know that Ratchet being so different in RiD15 than in TFP is a thing of like different genre and target audience or whatever but I think it's funny to come up with possible in-universe reasons, like:

[Image ID: Several digital doodles, accompanied by text. The first one in the top left is of TFP Ratchet, looking tired, with the text "Poster boy of mental health issues" written next to him. To his right is an arrow pointing to the right, with the text "like 5 years". At the other end of the arrow is a doodle of RiD15 Ratchet, smiling, with the text "joyful individual?". Below the first drawing of TFP Ratchet is the number 1. Accompanied by the text "He's been doing just as bad, he's just currently having a good time". To the right of the text is a drawing of RiD15 Ratchet shinjiposing (sitting on a chair with his head in his hands, top-down perspective). To his right is an arrow pointing to a drawing of RiD15 Optimus and Ratchet, both smiling and blushing with their eyes closed and with flowers floating around them, indicating happiness. Below the drawing of Ratchet shinjiposing is the number 2. With the text "spite" in big letters, and the text "for the government" in brackets. To the right of the text is a drawing of one of the councilmembers with a speech bubble that reads "Optimus Prime sucks and so do you so we're like banishing you or whatever". Ratchet is drawn looking bored with a thought bubble that reads "damn, now I have to get better". Below the drawing of the councilmember is the number 3. accompanied by text that reads "having a little buddy to hang out with is really good for your mental health". The text is accompanied by a drawing of RiD15 Ratchet and Undertow sitting next to each other, both looking deadpan. The text "dead silence" is placed above Undertow and the text "+1 Mental health" is placed next to Ratchet, repeated 12 times like how status updates are placed in video games. / End ID]

[lets-try-some-writing]

What’s your thoughts visually on how bots habsuites/ quarters look like? And would they differ between frame types ? As prime big lol Wish we got some media on it :0

Hmm well I do imagine things would differ wildly between each continuity. However, some generalizations might be the following:

Autobots as a whole: Generally speaking, I do imagine the Autobots have habs that match their size and their rank. Rank and file soldiers are bunked together in rooms filled with recharging stations crammed shoulder to shoulder. Most don't mind since they are all together and it's not as if they have anything of their own anyway more often than not. Those further up the chain of command get rooms with less people in them until they finally get a roommate or possibly, if they are super duper special, their very own closet sized space. Actual berths are reserved for those with rooms big enough for them. Most just use recharging stations since it's generally more useful to making the most of a space.

Rank and file soldiers: The average soldier is bunked shoulder to shoulder with his or her comrades. They are each given a standing recharge station boxed right up against everyone else's unless they have an injury which warrants the usage of the handful of berths given to soldiers lower on the chain of command. Generally, such soldiers are kept in huge facilities meant to keep everyone safe and secure rather than comfort them. As such, decoration simply does not happen unless the military position a soldier is stationed at is more permanent. In which case, the soldier might paint their station with odd doodles, splotches of color, or if they are lucky enough to find some, they might slap some stickers on it.

Company commanders and the like: Directly above regular soldiers, various commanders of lower rank get bunked together as well, but they are given a tad more room. This is not a privilege as one might expect, but an actual necessity. Commanders can get called on at any time, and each of them need a little more room to work on reports and whatnot since there simply is not enough space to give each of them an office of their own. As such, their stations are a little farther apart, and between them are their personal effects and maybe something to play the part of a makeshift desk if need be. Decoration is the same as regular soldiers, with the possible addition of medallions, the odd set of fairy lights if one gets lucky, or even a poster or two.

Lieutenants and up: Now this is when a bot would start getting their own space, kind of. Bots of this rank are still bunked with a buddy or two, but they are actually issued rooms in order to supply them with the privacy needed to handle sensitive data. They also get actual berths (which can and often do double as desks). Getting a room means a bot can do almost whatever they like to decorate so long as it sort of aligns with military orders. Most often, lieutenants and the like decorate with weapons on the walls, trophies, artwork, or even murals. It depends on his strict the command center is.

Generals and Prime's Inner Circle: Inner circle bots get privileges, and one of those is a private room. A bot can do whatever the heck they want with their space so long as it doesn't disrupt workflow and the like. Decoration depends entirely on whoever owns the hab. In the case of Ultra Magnus, he lives in a mountain of datapads. Ratchet keeps mementos but will die before admitting it. Jazz has what few instruments he's managed to save. Ironhide decked his room with weapons... the list goes on. There are no limits for the most part. Comes with being constantly under threat of being assassinated.

Prime: Technically, he should be living in a high end facility, never to dirty his digits. But because this is Optimus Prime, he tends to wander. He rests wherever there is a free space and will gladly rest with the soldiers without a worry in the world. The only reason he has a hab at all is for the sake of morale amongst the troops. Although more often than not, it doubles as an extra room for injured troops in need of protection.

Not sure if this is what you wanted anon, but these are my thoughts!

[in1-nutshell]

Hi & is it okay for Another of Transformer crossovers

With TFA Silver Aid meeting Spiderverse?

(You can also any bots/cons with Silver, if you like)

thank you

Silver Aid is not the only spider around!

Hope you enjoy!

Silver Aid and Optimus Prime go into the Spiderverse

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronian (technoorganic) reader

TFA/SPIDERVERSE

Silver Aid was overworked.

Megatron and the others were being more reckless than usual with the Autobots.

And some of his more questionable missions, which end up being fruitless and an angry group to help later.

Silver tried her hardest to make sure everyone was in top shape once they got out of the med bay.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the team to realize how worked up she was.

Silver Aid was looking over the supply case when Megatron and the others came in. Silver Aid blinked a bit before worriedly going up to them. Silver Aid: “Is everything all right?” She takes Megatron’s servo and starts looking at it. Megatron paces his other servo on top of her. Megatron: “Everything is fine Silver Aid.” Silver Aid: “Then why is everyone doing here?” Blitzwing: “This is an intervention.” Silver Aid: “What?” Blitzwing: “You are working too hard and for long periods of time Silver Aid. It is not healthy.” Silver Aid: “I’m fi—” Starscream: “Don’t even start with that load of scrap heap. You are running off of fumes! Again!” Silver Aid annoyingly huffs. Lugnut: “It is important to take more breaks Silver Aid, we have talked about this in the past.” Silver Aid takes her servos and crosses them. Silver Aid: “I’m sorry but someone has to make sure you don’t bleed all over the floor and function properly. You wouldn’t last 3 days if I didn’t put in all this work.” Megatron: “We are not undermining your work. We simply think you should also prioritize your health.” Silver Aid sends him a harsh glare. He stares back at her. A minute goes by before she sighs and smirks. It sent a chill down Megatron’s back struts, though for the reason why was up for debate. Silver Aid: “How about a little bet? If I leave for 3 days and the base and yourselves are not scrap metal… I will consider a change in my normal routine.” Megatron: “But…” Silver Aid steps forward and shoves a digit in Megatron’s chassis. Silver Aid: “But if I find the med bay and you all a mess, I Will come for all your hides.” Megatron: “…Deal.” Silver Aid and Megatron shake servos as the techno organic begins to walk out of the room. Starscream: “Wait your leaving now?” Silver Aid: “Of course! See you all in 3 days!” The mechs in the room: “…”

Silver Aid walked out the base and realized that she didn’t exactly have a place to stay meanwhile the deal was on.

She figured that one of the nearby cave systems would do for the time being.

The medic would have gone to the Plant, but she wanted to stay as far from any potential fights as possible.

Staring at the setting sun an idea struck her.

It would be another 2 hours before Optimus would be going on patrol, why not spend it with him?

Optimus was a bit surprised to find Silver Aid calling him.

Like her, the Prime was running off of fumes.

Swamped with work, though most mainly caused by the Decepticon’s, the occasional human villain of the week, and his team occasionally breaking out into fights.

He almost jumped at the opportunity to get a short break.

Optimus made sure to let Ratchet know he was heading out early for patrol.

The medic acknowledged him as the Prime transformed and peeled it to the set location.

The two met at an abandoned shipyard not too far from the main port.

The two were tired but grateful to see each other again under much more peaceful circumstances.

As they chatted the familiar sound of a portal made them stop.

Optimus quickly activated his axe and stood in front of Silver Aid. Silver Aid grabbed his arm tightly while gripping to sturdy pole with the other servo. Silver Aid: “Prime, I swear if we get sucked into the portal, I will personally make sure Megatron does not attack you and your team for 2 months.” Both are anticipating for the portal to start dragging them in. Optimus: “I don’t think its sucking… I think it’s—” Four objects shot out of the portal. Optimus quickly grabs two of them while Silver grabbed the other two. The portal closed. The bots took notice that these were humans in costumes. Optimus had a human with part of their hair out and one that seemed to be glitching with different colors. Silver had a human with a black and red costume and another with a white and pink suit. They all groaned holding their heads. Silver motioned Optimus to place them down, both kneeling in front of them. The medic carefully helped the black and red human sit up. The eye’s on the costume blinked widely. She gave them a gentle smile. Silver Aid: “Hello there, your safe. All of you are.” The humans slowly start looking around at their surroundings. Optimus: “My name is—” The red and black one suddenly squealed and stood up. Miles: “Your Optimus Prime! And your Silver Aid!” Both bots blink in confusion. It was common for the humans to fawn over the Autobots, but one fawning over her? The others suddenly jumped up and looked at them, they could feel the excitement rolling off of them. Silver Aid: “That is correct… how do you know our names?” Miles: “We know about Transformers and recently re watched some of the series. Umm, my name is Miles.” The white and blue one slapped his head. White and blue: “Secret identities! Remember?” The two had a silent argument that led to the white and blue human sighing. Gwen: “I’m Gwen.” The one that constantly glitched and his companion waved. Pav: “I’m Pav! And this is Hobbie!” Hobbie saluted at the bots.

Optimus and Silver sat down listening to the teens explaining that they all knew them as childhood TV characters.

Beloved in multitude of rebirths and comics in their universes.

When asked about the costumes after the face reveal, they stated they were spider people.

This caught Silver’s attention.

What did they mean by that?

But before she could ask, the ground underneath them caved in.

Silver Aid woke up to harsh lights and what looked like a lab setting.

Optimus was in the berth next to her also waking up.

She could groggily make out the teens at the end of the room.

A bigger human in a similar outfit was in front of them waving his arms angerly.

She did not like it.

Her optics narrowed when the bigger human touched Miles’s shoulder and winced.

Silver Aid transformed into her alt mode, jumped up and landed in front of the kids, separating them from the bigger human. Silver Aid: “What did you do to him!” Miles quickly got in front of her patting her longer legs. Miles: “It’s okay! It’s okay! Miguel’s just a bit rough and grouchy!” Her optics flickered from the bigger human to Miles. She sighed as she transformed back into bot form. Silver Aid: “I apologize. I thought you were hurting the children.” Miles: “I’m 15!” Silver Aid: “Did I stutter?” Optimus walking next to her with wide optics. Optimus: “Where are we?” Miguel: “You are in our headquarters.” Optimus: “Headquarters for what?” Gwen: “A Spider society in this dimension for all the spider people to come to.” Optimus and Silver Aid look at each other. Optimus: “You know—” Silver Aid: “The 2 months I know, I know.”

Enter Peter B and Jessica Drew.

Miles and the others had never seen Peter or Jessica love so quickly before.

Both were just staring up at the bots with happy expressions.

Did they really have that much of a positive impact in these dimensions?

A small baby swinging on a web landed on Silver’s shoulder.

The technorganic’s optics widened gently holding the little babe in her servos.

She quietly asked if all spider people could do that.

Silver Aid could have cried at that moment when she saw them swing around.

The teens offered to give the two bots a tour, given the way they entered this universe… it was going to take about a day or two to get it fixed and tested correctly.

Optimus is given the ‘Honorary Spidey’ title.

Silver Aid was already given the spider person title.

She was shocked to hear that the majority of the spidey’s there started when a spider bit them.

That was the same thing that happened to her… well a nice way to put it.

Optimus and Silver stick to each other’s sides the entire stay.

… But they are no longer allowed to go into the main lobbies without one of the teens, Peter B, Jessica, or Miguel accompanying them.

Apparently, a lot of universes had their own ‘Transformers’ and versions of them.

They both were surrounded by spidey’s who were crying and jumping with excitement.

Now to the main spideys.

Miguel, Peter and Jessica have all grown up watching the original Transformer’s cartoons in their dimensions.

Some more sparing than others.

While some things with the bots change, the basic concept and how the bots act is virtually the same.

All three of them hang out near the bots when they come back to Miguel’s ‘office’.

Most of the time it was Silver Aid and Optimus talking with Peter and Jessica whenever they weren’t on missions.

Miguel stayed silent and separative for most of the visit.

On occasion he would talk to Silver Aid.

One talk led to some important findings.

Lyla pops up on Miguel’s shoulder. Lyla: “Oh Miguel you weren’t kidding when you put her on the list! She’s gorgeous!” Miguel tries rapidly swatting at the hologram but she pops near her helm. Silver Aid: “List?” Lyla: “Yeah, Miguel’s got a list of potential spider people he wants to join the society, especially after what happened when Miles showed—” Miguel: “There’s no need for any more detail Lyla!” Silver Aid: “You want me to join your society?” The technorganic could feel the embarrassment and anger rolling of the man. Miguel: “No!” Lyla: “… He chased down Miles because he wanted to save his dad and sic the rest of the society on him.” Silver Aid: “Excuse me what!?” From afar… Peter holding Mayday: “What do you think they’re talking about?” Optimus shrugs. Jessica: “Maybe he is trying to recruit her?” They see Silver Aid transform into a giant spider and was chasing after Miguel. Jessica: “… Or maybe she found out about what happened with Miles…” Optimus: “What happened with Miles?” Peter: “Well, there are these things called Canon Events…”

The adults quickly found out how strong Silver’s webbing was and how hard it was to get off.

The rest of the visit was mainly staying with the four teens.

Hobbie and Pav where the pair that usually went out with the bots to more crowded areas.

Though they would bring Gwen and Miles if things got too crowded.

Someone had to protect their new large friends.

Pav loved chatting with the pair about almost everything under the sun.

It reminded Optimus of Bumblebee a lot.

Hobbie often took to literally hanging off of Silver Aid’s armor and occasionally strumming chords on his guitar.

Silver Aid and Optimus are watching the two spiders from a few feet away. Silver Aid: “Doesn’t Pav and Hobbie remind you of Bumblebee and Prowl?” Optimus: “So I’m not the only one who thinks that?” Pav and Hobbie swing up on the respected bots shoulders. Pav: “Whatcha talking about?” Optimus: “How you two remind us of some friends back home.” Hobbie: “Really? What’s Pav? Bumblebee?” Pav looked at the Prime with wide eyes. Pav: “Really!?” Silver Aid: “I take it back. He is both Bee and Sari.” Pav happily kicked his feet a bit. Pav: “And what about Hobbie?” Silver Aid: “He reminds us most of Prowl, maybe a bit of Jazz too.” Hobbie: “Wait is that the ninja mechs?” The bots nodded. Hobbie laughed a bit and leaned back. Hobbie: “…Are you married to Megatron?” Optimus nearly trips and falls on his face. Silver Aid’s frame feels hot. Silver Aid: “We haven’t exactly done the rites yet…” Optimus now looks at Silver in surprise. Optimus: “Wait you haven’t!?”

Gwen and Miles liked to have more one-on-one moments with the bots.

Well, more Miles than Gwen.

Gwen wasn’t as social as the others but did make time for the bots as the date for them to return came closer.

She liked hanging out with Silver Aid the most.

Something about ‘there aren’t a lot of spiderwomen who get happy endings’.

…She really needed to ask what the girl meant by that.

Silver Aid is hanging upside down with Gwen. Silver Aid: “I heard about the thing that usually makes the average spider person a hero is the bite… how did yours happen?” Gwen: “Pretty normal. I was playing my drum set when the spider bit my hand.” Silver Aid: “How badly did it hurt?” Gwen: “Not that bad? Why was yours painful?” Silver Aid laughs humorlessly. Silver Aid: “You could say that.” Gwen scoots a bit closer. Gwen: “What happened?” Silver looks unsure whether to actually tell her. Gwen: “Please?” Silver sighs: “It started off the day I decided to join Optimus to watch over my twin and our other friend, Sentinel…”

Miles was a different story.

The boy was almost their shadow the entire visit.

Practically bursting at the seems with joy whenever he saw them.

He loved to rant and just talk to them about their lives.

Optimus sympathized when Miles sheepishly told him the story on how he became his universes Spiderman and the training involved.

Training as a recruit was the worst.

The Prime gave him a few words of encouragement about his situation which, in a way backfired.

Optimus starts running up to Silver Aid. Silver Aid notices a crying Miles in his servos. Silver Aid: What happened!” Optimus: “I don’t know! I was just telling him he was doing a great job and he started crying!” Silver Aid gently pats his back. He turns in her direction. Silver Aid: “Hey buddy, can you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can help fix whatever happened.” Crying spider noises increase.

Eventually it was time for the bots to leave.

It was a bit of a tearful goodbye, scratch that very tearful good bye from a lot more spiders than they anticipated.

The pair held servos as they jumped into the portal.

… and promptly landed on their faces.

They had laned back at the abandoned shipyard.

Well, the city was still intact, and nothing was one fire so there was some good news.

The sun was starting to rise.

Silver Aid gave Optimus a quick hug and told him good luck with his team.

He waved back until realizing what she had just said.

He had been gone for 3 days…

No official contact with his team…

After he said he was patrolling at night…

…Great…

Optimus quietly transforms in front of the Plant and walks inside. Ratchet was asleep on his work bench. Prowl was sleeping on Bulkhead’s arm while said bot was sprawled on the floor. Bumblebee and Sari were snoring on the big bots chassis. There were multiple scanners and video tapes littered around the floor. CRUNCH! Optimus accidentally stepped on a data pad. Which was enough to wake up Sari. Sari blinked tiredly before staring at him. Sari: “OPTIMUS!” Her scream suddenly woke everyone up. The last thing the Prime saw was his entire team running at him at top speed. Meanwhile… Silver Aid swings up to the base and walks in. Silver Aid: “I’m bac—OH SWEET PRIMUS!” There were multiple craters in the main room, some marks on the wall that looked suspiciously like talons, and a harsh smell of smoke. Lugnut and Blitzwing were lying in one of the mini craters groaning. Starscream was dangling by his pedes from one of the taller monitors. Was he… crying? And Megatron… had fallen asleep near his throne. Silver Aid groaned loudly. That’s what woke them up. Blitzwing was the first to reach her, pulling her into a tight hug and spinning her around. Random laughed tiredly. Blitzwing: “Thank the Prime’s its over!” Both bots were lifted up by Lugnut’s hug. Silver was then tugged out by Starscream who held her shoulders. Starscream: “Where have you been!? We have been trying to contact you for the past week and—” Silver: “Wait what! I was gone for three days!” Megatron: “You were gone for a week.” Silver jumped, not even noticing he had moved from his spot from across the room. He looked tired, angry, and relieved. Silver tried to reach for his servo. He pulled away making her spark clench. Megatron: “Prime is missing as well. None of our scanners picked up on any of your signatures. So please enlighten me, where were you.” Silver Aid: “The portals found us. There was no way we could have gotten back so we had to wait. We thought we were only there for three days.” Megatron sighs and opens his arms slightly. Silver Aid gently grabbed his arm and started leading him to their shared habsuite. She turned back to the others. Silver Aid: “I promise I’ll tell everything later!” She softly shut the door just as she felt two large arms wrap around her. Megatron lifted her up and buried his face in her neck cables. Megatron: “These portals are testing me…” Silver Aid just smiled as she shut her optics and enjoyed the safety his arms provided.

[enigmatist17]

Previous parts 1-4

---

It was very rare for Prowl to lose himself to his emotions.

From the moment his battle computer had been installed, Prowl had sacrificed what most bots considered everything that made a Cybertronian an individual to pour it all into his worth as a tactician. None of his fellow Enforcers had ever taken such an extreme step in serving Praxia and its people, or at least within recent memory, but no one ever complained when his hunts always ended with his targets in stasis cuffs. When the War struck, it was both a blessing and a curse for the Autobot command staff when he joined their ranks. While his worth as a tactician with no rival other than Shockwave was not up for debate, most had an issue with his apparent lack of emotion at knowingly sending bots to their demise, alienating the Praxian almost immediately. No one save Jazz ever saw the part of himself that was buried underneath his battle computer, manifesting itself in the rare times when Prowl was sent into the battlefield himself.

Call a mech crazy, but what Jazz always saw on that battlefield was nothing short of deadly grace, the hunter within Prowl taking over to destroy those they fought against. All the anger and hatred underneath cold logic manifested into a battle cry worthy of Optimus Prime, clawed digits tearing into Decepticons to prevent Prowl from succumbing to the overwhelming despair of every spark snuffed in this War.

Losing Jazz was the only time since that night Optimus and his team had left so long ago when Prowl had lost himself, but now he found himself at the mercy of them again as he stared at the berth before him.

Moments ago, the room had been filled with light, the air crackling with energy that soothed his spark rather than caused alarm. His first thought was to try and send an alert to Optimus, to anyone from the outside, but the movement in front of him chased away any logic his processor could offer.

"Prowler?"

A visor that had been black was slowly turning to an achingly familiar blue, the whirring of onlining systems filling the air from a frame that had been silent for over two years. Dark grey metal began to take on the shine of life, pedes twitching and servos flexing as energon raced through empty tubing, bringing feeling back to non-live wires and cables. What caught Prowl's eyes the most was the exposed slot in the middle of Jazz's chassis, a small ball of white light growing bit by bit with each passing moment, taking in the blue shimmers he had spent breems drinking in the sight of back on Cybertron. Trembling digits rested above the casing as Prowl moved closer, letting out a soft series of clicks as he watched the impossible become possible right before his optics.

"Prowler...look at me..."

---

Jazz had never felt so free, the pains of starvation and countless years of War gone from his gleaming frame. Friends and family that had died so long ago ushered Jazz into a tight embrace, and he doesn't know how long they've been there when he wonders where he is.

You are home, little one

Jazz has never heard the voice before, but at the same time, he knew in his spark who spoke to him like a beloved sparkling.

Primus

For all of the beauty the Well of All Sparks held, a Cybertron gleaming and bursting with life that Jazz had forgotten, it was incomplete. He was a dancer without his partner, and as much as he loved those taken from him, he ached for his other half, the one who made him complete. Time held no meaning, but Jazz somehow knew that he'd been gone too long when Primus spoke to him once more, his family hugging Jazz before they and Cybertron faded around him, leaving the saboteur cradled in massive servos he could not see.

Mourn no longer, you are to be reunited

---

His entire frame ached when the feeling came to him, able to feel with some sort of strange fascination as life quite literally flowed through his veins. Jazz could feel the repair work Ratchet must have done to his body after his death, unfamiliar coding popping up into his HUD to reveal he'd been given some upgrades, but those were a problem for his future self. All that mattered was the bot that met his view when his optics finally cycled on, revealing his other half crouched over his chassis, watching his spark grow and reestablish itself within his body. His Prowl was still a stunning sight, and despite the questions he had, Jazz had to focus on one issue at a time.

"Prowler...look at me..." It was more effort than he figured it would be to speak, but if your body had not been used for an unknown length of time, disuse had to make itself known somehow. Cobalt-toned optics flick over to focus on his visor at his static-laced voice, and the smaller bot watched emotions swirling within them faster than he could point out. "Beautiful.."

"Jazz." Doorwings that had been stiff into a sharp V fluttered as he whispered the others' name, a trembling servo resting on the side of his face as the Praxian leaned close to nuzzle his helm with a soft series of chirps. Jazz mustered enough strength by then to lift one of his arms, clumsily slinging it around Prowl's shoulder to draw his bonded into a kiss, his exposed spark already trying to reach out for the other half just out of reach.

"Sweetspark...look at ya." Jazz crooned when Prowl drew back, tracing that familiar chevron with a tired smile. "Ya look tired."

"I am...so very tired, my shadow." Prowl traced the edge of Jazz's visor with a click, voice wavering as he rested his servo over Jazz's spark chamber. "How is this possible?"

"'M not sure, but I'm not complainin'." A soft smile crossed his bonded's face, and it takes a second before he realizes with a start that they were, in fact, not bonded. "Prowler? I just rea-"

"What in Primus' name is going on in here?"

Not many things could shock or impress Ratchet, but Prowl proved him wrong the second he caught sight of Jazz moving and seemingly alive. In the span of an optic cycle the tactician had put himself between Jazz and the medic, claws out and ready to defend the mech struggling to sit up behind him as his doorwings flared in warning. Admittedly, he had little dealings with Praxians even before the War had begun, but he wasn't stupid enough to try and challenge one who was defending a loved one. He was honestly more surprised at the instinctual reaction from the ordinarily logical mech, but if his bonded had somehow come back to life after being offline for two years, Ratchet supposed he couldn't blame him, lowering his helm so his gaze wouldn't meet Prowl's.

"Sup Ratchet, what's kickin'?" Jazz's cheerful voice was...jarring, to say the least, but all Ratchet could do was let out a soft laugh.

"I don't know how you're here, how you're alive, but it is so fragging good to have you back, you old glitch."

"That hurts mech, that really hurts." Prowl slowly straightened as Jazz laughed, Ratchet slowly looking up before doing the same with an unamused look.

"Prowl, I say this with the utmost respect; get the frag out of the way so I can examine your glitch of a bonded." He was already pulling a scanner from one of his subspaces as the other bot stepped out of the way, giving Ratchet the space he needed while remaining close by if Jazz needed anything. Ratchet explains that the light had not been confined to the room but had enveloped the entire island, and that Optimus was holding back everyone else to give Ratchet time to figure out what had caused it.

"I do not know what caused his...return, just that one moment I was singing the Song of Mourning, the next he was onlining right in front of me." Prowl had to fight back a hiss when Ratchet helped Jazz sit up, the smaller mech clearly starting to falter from exhaustion as the medic scanned his spark chamber. A series of angry clicks escape his vocalizer before he can stop them when Ratchet clearly finds something, rushing off to the nearby terminal without explaining, remaining rooted to the spot when Jazz reaches over to take hold of his closest servo.

"This...this is unbelievable." Ratchet looked back at the couple from his terminal in shock and awe, a smile tugging at his lips. "These readings tell me that the Allspark brought you back, but I don't know how that's possible, the cube was destroyed."

"Maybe Primus decided otherwise." Jazz shrugged, oddly sure of his answer. "Ratchet, good as it is ta see ya, I'd appreciate it if Prowler an' I could have some privacy. I need ta renew our bond right now, and unless everyone an' Primus want a show..."

"I shall come fetch you when things are done." Prowl stepped in, losing his patience faster than he expected. "Please?"

"Don't worry about it, take all the time you need. Jazz, it is terrific to have you back, you've been sorely missed."

"I know mech, you'll have time ta fill me in later." With a nod, Ratchet stepped out of the small building and closed the bay door behind him, his voice audible for a few seconds as he undoubtedly ushered the humans outside away to give them privacy.

"Alone at last." Jazz lay back in his berth as Prowl moved across the room, retracting his visor to get an unadulterated view of his lover as Prowl climbed up onto the berth and crouched over him. "You're so beautiful.."

"You've stolen my words, my heart."

[desmos-calculator]

I was thinking about those posts I sometimes see about dates being an equation (you know the ones), and was thinking, is there a year where that happens the least? maybe even one where it doesn't happen?

Well, I don't think I'd be qualified to cover every function that uses two inputs, and I would assume every function is quite a few and probably would cover every day

So, I'll be sticking to the basic 4,+,-,× and ÷, since that's what I see most common with those posts

First step is to get a list of all the dates (I should clarify, from the Gregorian calendar, since that's the most common dating system I see from those posts), which is pretty easy, just make it yourself! you know how the months work... right?

right?

Anyways, we have a list now! two, in fact, so we can put our days and months separately

Now, we just apply the functions and,

meh, could be prettier, now, we gotta consider that negative years don't exist yet, less so something like XX negative 19, so those extra spots below, gotta go

We also need to consider that years such as XX 100 would theoretically someday exist, but we're just gonna assume you're only looking at the last 2 digits, so, BEGONE!

And don't forget about the year XX 02.75, that was the best year... for all of us that used a different calendar system, so I'm going to need to ask you numbers to LEAVE!

And that should be all the house keeping we need to do, let's collapse em down

woooah, coolio, let's color them based on the group come from

preeeetty, someone should crochet that

Now, you may think "Hey, he left out my favourite day, [February 29th], How could he????!!!!!"

Well, 2+29=31, which can't be a leap year, 2-29 is negative, so no, not possible, 2/29 is a fraction, and 2*29=58, which is NOT a leap year

so, to anyone guessing dates that can never work, congrats, you won!

we can also see what years work with each function

with division ending the lowest, since all it does is decrease, we find the last date to be XX14, on 28th February, ironic. sorry y'all didn't notice it til it was too late.

for subtraction? the last date will be... 30th January 2029! Get your cakes (uh, funeral cakes?) ready for the last date possible for subtraction in.... 4 years time?!?! jesus, time flies, huh?

uhmm, for addition, we find the final day to be 30th December XX42! woa

and the multiplication goes til the end, being the year XX99, dated November 9th...... ANYWAYS

the year of most functional dates will be XX12 with the dates:

11th Jan (11+1=12), 12th Jan(12*1=12), 13th Jan(13-1=12),

6th Feb (6*2=12), 10th Feb (10+2=12), 14th Feb (14-2=12),

24th Feb (24/2=12), 4th March (4*3=12), 9th March (9+3=12),

15th March (15-3=12), 3rd April (3*4=12), 8th April (8+4=12),

16th April (16-4=12), 7th May (7+5=12), 17th May (17-5=12),

2nd June (2*6=12), 6th June (6+6=12), 18th June (18-6=12),

5th July (5+7=12), 19th July (19-7=12), 4th August (4+8=12),

20th August (20-8=12), 3rd September (3+9=12),

21st September (21-9=12), 2nd October (2+10=12),

22nd October (22-10=12), 1st November (1+11=12),

23rd November (23-11=12), 1st December (1*12=12),

and finally... 24th December (24-12=12)

awesome

the years with no days are all primes after XX43, since if it had any factors, it'd work for multiplication

except, I lied, XX58, XX62, XX74, XX82, XX86 and XX94 are all not prime, yet have 0 days, since they're divisible by 2 but the other factor is bigger than 30

except, I lied again, XX58 is actually the only one with a potentially real day, being february 29, as we mentioned earlier.

"BUT WAIT, WHAT ABOUT m/d/y? WHAT ABOUT THE AMERICAN SYSTEM?!?!"

hghhghghg

graaaaah, the division section barely exists

woah, separation, around the x=y line too, with the same shape no less

except, BOOM, i lied to you, AGAIN.

you see, this shape is actually skinner than the original one

you actually only lose potential dates by switching to the other system, and here's how many you lose

The years that lose the most are XX13, XX14, XX15 with 13 missing days, and we'll reach a consensus for amount of days working with math in XX32! the perfect number to end on

but also, this system gives us our earliest year ending with a multiplicative date, being 1st December XX12 (XX12 was a great year for functions, huh)

So, when's the next functional date? well, we missed 13th November, so mark your calendars for 12th December!!

So, what did we learn?

Well, I mean, I guess you can brag about knowing when the next date that's a math equation.

and also the tragedy that is 29th February XX58...

Suggest other calendar systems, and I'll look into them!

[kathaynesart]

I remember when you first started Replica and I haven't been here in a hot minute!

May you please do a debrief of what it is, the characters and their relationships.

I want to be able to give my friend (who I finally dragged down into this TMNT rabbit hole) a good explanation of your wonderful comic!

(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Aw thank you so much! Hm… I suppose a summary would be good to have on hand. For the uninitiated with no context, here is the basic elevator pitch:

The year is 2044 and the last remaining Resistance of Earth has just fallen to the alien invaders known as the Krang. In a last ditch effort to save the planet, Casey, a freedom fighter is sent back in time to undo the events that first led to the invasion. While he is ultimately successful in his mission, the state of his original fallen timeline remains unknown. The last of the freedom fighters, his family, perished to ensure his safe escape, leaving their world to the mercy of the Krang.

Which brings us to the ultimate question: when you already know the heroes are doomed to fail, what can be gained from being told their story?

For the rest below, I’m going to write with the assumption that the reader has some basic knowledge of the series and the film because I feel that this story is best enjoyed with proper context.

SUMMARY

Replica is a story meant to answer many of the questions the first 4 minutes of the movie left us wondering. It’s to explain the basic history of the bad future timeline and how it came to be. The plot focuses particularly on the later half of the apocalypse, all with the intention of leading up to the opening scene where the Krang wins and Casey Junior is sent back in time to fix the mistakes that Leo and his family could not.

It’s to answer questions like:

How did Leo get injured?

Why is Mikey so old looking?

What were these characters like in the future?

What happened to Raph, Donnie, and April?

Where is big bad Krang Prime in all this?

How did the Resistance finally lose to the Krang?

Did they plan to send Casey back in time in advance?

What happened to this world/time-branch after Casey Jr was sent into the past?

MAIN CHARACTERS

For the most part, the cast is comprised entirely of characters from the series. My goal is to keep this as canon as possible, so no new OC's... save for one (kind of).

Omega Bootyyyshaker 9000 is where this story starts and ultimately where it ends. He is a brain scan AI of Donatello, created to act as both a support system for the Resistance after the turtle’s untimely death and also a key component in a plan that will hopefully put a stop to the Krang should the Resistance fail. Omega is great because he adds some much needed levity to the story, acting a bit more like the aloof but silly teenage Donnie (a side affect of not having to experience the usual physical weariness that comes with being an organic, aging organism in an apocalypse). However, he also adds more weight by being the thing that is supposed to outlast all of them and act as the last line of defense for the remainder of the universe. He claims to merely be a "replica" of Donnie's mind, but whether he's just a digitized scan, his own AI person, or somehow connected to Donnie in a deeper way has yet to be seen.

Leonardo Hamato: the man, the myth, the legend. Casey Junior spins tales of how great his sensei was in the movie, but in this story we really get to see Leo go from his lowest point as a pawn for the government, crushed by the shame of his past actions, to his greatest height as the leader of the Resistance. He is going to fail a lot in this story... but ultimately his greatest success is overcoming his own inner demons and coming to terms with being the father figure he had never asked to be. He cares deeply for his family and Casey... but he thinks he'd be a horrible dad.

Michelangelo Hamato: the only other surviving turtle to see the end of the world. He is the emotional bedrock of the family and a stand in therapist when he's not being a silly little guy. His mystical powers are unparalleled, but in his attempts to regain his lost Ninpo he taps into something far deeper, leading them down a path that intertwines the destiny of their doomed future and a past that has yet to occur.

Casey Jones Jr: a sweet boy taken in by the Hamato family. He strives to become a great warrior like his mother (Cassandra) and his Sensei (Leo). We are going to watch him grow from child to teenager as he slowly takes on the roll of being a fighter in the resistance. Through it all he must walk an unsteady line that allows him to find the strength to weather the storm but retain a certain spark of hope that helps keep his family going.

April O'neil: Commander of the Resistance and another honorary Hamato family member. She is the voice of reason and most emotionally stable of the family. Even after dealing with so much loss, she keeps a stiff upper lip as well as cold and calculating mind that always puts the colony's wellbeing first and foremost.

Donatello Hamato (deceased): The story begins shortly after Donnie’s passing during an infiltration mission against the Krang. He was dead set on planting a probe behind enemy lines that would allow them to spy on the Krang’s movements. However it seems that he had a secret agenda in planting something that would work as a final doomsday weapon against the Krang. What that is exactly, we do not yet know. The man self-destructed in a last ditch effort to avoid being interrogated by the Krang as well as a final attack to injure Krang Prime.

Raphael Hamato (deceased): The eldest brother who sadly passed away many years ago in the fight against the Krang. A boisterous but considerate man whose death sapped a great deal of the fighting spirit out of his brothers. His absence is greatly felt, but he might not be as far gone as he seems.

Krang Prime (One): Our big bad of the story. He is the leader of the Krang that has latched onto this planet like a cancer, using up its resources and assimilating its population. However, unlike the hundreds of planets that have come before this one is particularly personal. He doesn't want to merely assimilate but utterly destroy the descendants that caused his imprisonment thousands of years ago. His current state is unknown after being last seen with Donatello at the time of the man's self-destruction.

NEED TO KNOW DETAILS

All Resistance fighters have tiny self destruct bombs in their brains so that the Krang can not probe their minds to find out the Liberty Colony's location. They go off automatically after Krang infestation reaches a certain percentage, but can also be set off via voice command.

Donnie's brain bomb was far more potent because of the amount of information he knew. He did not want to risk the Krang getting any part of his mind.

The Krang have been searching for the resistance in a frustrating game of cat and mouse which has only become more difficult now that the Resistance easily knows their every move by using Donnie's probe.

Central Park Colony: now destroyed, but was once the last massive human colony in North America, housing both the EPF (Earth Protection Force) and US Government. Racism was a huge problem as most yokai and mutants were either quarantined, tested on, or used as living weapons in the fight against the Krang. It has since been destroyed.

Liberty Colony (aka the Resistance): grew from the ashes of the Central Park Colony. It is comprised of the survivors and lead by Leonardo, April, and several others. It is much smaller and more militaristic, but treats yokai, humans, and mutants equally.

Artificial Intelligence (like Omega and Shelldon) are able to fend off the Krang assimilation that people and tech would normally succumb to. It is for this reason Omega is used as both a protector of the Liberty Colony and operator for a majority of the vehicles so that the tech can no longer be easily taken over by the Krang during attacks.

Leonardo and Michelangelo (as well as Donatello's) Ninpo have all been stripped from them by this point in the story. While Leo can not tap into his family connection at all, Mikey at least has regained the ability to use some of his mystic powers.

Mikey's mystic abilities however come at a price. Since he can not tap into his Ninpo and the fountain of energy from his ancestors, he is instead using his own life force to cast his spells. It is slowly draining him.

TIMELINE Can be viewed HERE

SOURCE MATERIAL The video that inspired this all can be viewed HERE

Hope this helps! Sorry it's a bit long, tried to break it up with images. At least there might be a few interesting bits of information other readers may not have noticed. I snuck in a few things that haven't been mentioned yet, hehe.

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

A drabble of Tfp Prime switching place with his Tfa counterpart over a bridge mishap?

Optimus had experienced his fair share of odd situations throughout his life. That was only natural when you were the leader of the autobots and had lived as long as he had. He had battled space monsters, shapeshifters, old gods, undead.

But he had to admit that interdimensional travel was a first for him.

At least he could feel at ease knowing that he had landed among friends, even if they were a tad different from the versions he knew.

"You're so tall!" the human girl, Sari, exclaimed with awe, eyes shining as she craned her neck to look at him. With her pigtails and excited personality she reminded Optimus a lot of Miko.

The Bumblebee of this dimension did not appear as impressed. He crossed his arms with a humpf and glared at Optimus with critical optics. "Well, he's probably super slow, slower than a snail!"

"I bet he's super strong too..." Other Bulkhead murmured, decidedly more impressed. He stared at Optimus' arms dreamily.

"He's got a strong spiritual presence, that's for sure," the two-wheeler designated Prowl commented. His optics focused on Optimus chestplates, leaning in closer. "And there's something else. It almost feels like-"

"Would people get out of my medbay!?" Ratchet, who appeared to be just as high strung as the one in his own dimension, interrupted. He waved around a datapad like Wheeljack with one of his swords. "We don't know what kind of viruses his world have and if we're susceptible to them! We could have a potential pandemic on our servos!"

"Viruses!?" Bumblebee stomped his pede and pointed an accusing digit at Optimus. "You guys see? This bot is nothing but trouble! I say we send him back to wherever he came from as soon as possible and get our own Optimus back!"

Bulkhead piped up. "That might be more difficult than you think, Bumblebee. You see, he portal that brought him here was due to a space bridge malfunction that quite frankly had a one in 3 billion chance of happening and even if we were to find a way to replicate this we'd also have to find a way to get his dimension do the same thing on their end."

Optimus cocked his head, intrigued. "Do you know a lot about space bridge technology, Bulkhead?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess I know some things," he responded, meekly. He fidgeted with his servos, not quite daring to look Optimus in the optics.

Ratchet interjected. "Don't sell yourself short now," he chided, giving Bulkhead a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Bulkhead here is the foremost expert of space bridge technology. Ain't no bot that knows more about the stuff than he does."

Hearing this, Optimus smiled. "That's incredible! While the Bulkhead I know is a brilliant mech in his own right he does not possess such expertise in space bridges. How brilliant!"

At this, Bulkhead finally managed to meet Optimus' optics. There was a faint blush on his faceplates. "Really? I'm not really all that- Uh, I mean, what's your Bulkhead like?"

Optimus' smile grew fonder. "He's one of the bravest mechs I've ever had the honor of knowing. The only thing that can compare to his immense strength is his kindness." Gazing down at the young bot in front of him, he placed his servo on the his shoulder. "The two of you are appear very much alike, in that regard."

Bulkhead's blush grew in intensity, his optics becoming round like saucers, flickering from Optimus' face to where his servo was on his shoulder back to his face. "Oh geez, I don't know what to, oh stars-"

"What about Bumblebee?" Sari suddenly asked, clambering on top of some barrels to be seen. "When you first appeared you said you had a Bumblebee in your universe as well, right?"

Bumblebee, this universe's version, crossed his arms again. "Whatever kind of person he is, he can't be faster, or more handsome, than me!" He paused. "But yeah, what about him?"

Optimus laughed. "There's no way I can praise him enough. Bumblebee is a true hero, through and through, and he's saved my life more times than I can count."

At this, Bumblebee visibly preened. "Oh yeah? Sounds kinda like me then. You know, I've also saved our Optimus' life a couple of times already." He jabbed a thumb at his chest. "Some call me a hero too."

"I don't doubt it," Optimus replied and somehow Bumblebee managed to puff out his chest even more.

"Yeah, well, why don't you tell me some more about my other dimensional counterpart and my- I mean his, heroic deeds? Just so we can compare notes."

Ratched sighed loudly and dragged a palm down his face. "Great, just what we need, Bumblebee getting yet another ego boost."

Prowl leaned in closer to the medic. "At least he's not openly hostile towards our visitor anymore." The corner of his mouth twitched. "He got so mad when this Optimus asked him if he wasn't too young to be an autobot when they first met."

Ratchet couldn't help but snort. "That alone made all of this worth it. Sigh, I just hope our Optimus is alright."

---------In another dimension---------

"What do you mean I'm the leader of the autobots? Ultra Magnus is right there! What even is a Matrix? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M THE CHOSEN OF GOD?????"

[cozzzynook]

Part 4 might as well bring a happy ending to Cliffjumper :D

Between losing his brother then finding out he was sparked had given Cliffjumper a rush of different emotions he thought wasn't possible for one mech to go through. But after a quick cry in the arms of a very grumpy Ratchet, Cliff had started to feel a little better about the whole situation. Even Optimus seemed to be taken back by the news the prime almost seemed to stall when Cliffjumper told him about the sparkling.

Even now the only ones who knew about the bittie was Ratchet, Optimus and of course, Arcee who almost didn't want to believe it until she felt the sparkling's own spark beat with her servo. Letting out a sigh Cliff would sink into the berth a little more, resting one servo on his chest while another draped off the edge of the berth.

"Ugh, I feel terrible...who knew carrying was such a glitch, I feel so heavy already" He grumbled as he turned to look at Arcee who was already crawling into berth with a smile.

"Heh, you think you feel heavy now?" The blue femme teased as he carefully ran one servo down the red mech's chest. "Just wait until their spark merges with their protoform, then you'll feel heavy"

"Primus, I wonder how prime was able to carry us let alone The Matrix at the same time" Shuffling a little further down the berth Cliffjumper sighed lowering his gaze.

"Cliff..." Arcee sighed leaning in to place a gentle kiss on the mech's helm. "You still miss him don't you?"

"Yeah, wish he got to know. He would have been the best Uncle, Cee... I know it" Quickly taking in a deep vent he turned his gaze to look at Arcee again with a somber smile.

Shuffling closer Arcee then rested her helm on Cliffjumper's chest before using one servo to grab hold of his giving a gentle squeeze. "I know too" She then placed a kiss on the red mech's chest hoping to comfort him a little further. "Hey, why don't we name them after Bee? Might be a good way to honour him after all..."

Cliffjumper's optics seemed to brighten a couple of shades as a small smile grew on his lips. "That seems like a good idea, only I have no slagging clue what even comes close..."

Chuckling Arcee pressed her helm to Cliff's giving a warm smile. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll think of something"

A year passes and everyone is busy crowding outside of the bay eager as they wait for news. Inside the bay Ratchet is busy wrapping a tiny wriggling sparkling in a blanket. "Yes, yes I know its cold little one" Ratchet softly smiled as he quickly handed the bittie to their creators. "Congratulations its a healthy femme"

Scouping up his sparkling into his arms Cliffjumper could only gaze down in pride. The sparkling was a light blue with one red stripe running down from the top of her helm to the base of her spine. Her optics however were a light teal green a rare but beautiful colour.

"Cee, she's perfect. She looks just like you" Cliffjumper smiled as he blinked back more tears.

"She sure does" With a hum Arcee leaned in close placing a gentle kiss on Cliffjumper's cheek before turning to softly nuzzle her bittie.

Clearing his intake Ratchet crossed his arms as he inspected the new creators carefully. "Well, before I leave you three to all bond, have you thought of any designation to give her?"

"We're going to call her Orchard, we thought it might suit her well" Cliffjumper smiled as he nuzzled his daughter before allowing her to wrap a servo around his digit.

"Huh, a little strange but if you think it suits her best, then I won't argue" The medic simply shook his helm before heading for the door. "I'll just be outside if you need me"

"Thank you Ratchet"

"Anytime"

(Bonus: Orchard is named after the Blue orchard mason bee, one of the few species of blue bees :D)

Aaahh this is so cute!! Also i’m so sorry i forgot bee was his brother in this one 😭

[anony-man]

Stress Relief

Word count: 3,210

Relationships: Ratchet/Wheeljack

Rating: M

Summary: When Ratchet has overworked himself yet again, Wheeljack knows just what to do to help his favorite medic relax a little.

Warnings: Lots of seggsual material. The whole thing basically revolves around Ratchet getting fucked, though, so..

**********

Ratchet had decided long ago that ‘stress’ was a very broad term.

In the field, he was pressed for time. He had a duty to save as many wounded as he possibly could while helping comfort those too far gone along their journey to the Allspark. Being stuck in the heat of the battle while mechs lay all around him bleeding out was practically a textbook definition of stressful. It was a hands-down stressful experience, and not one he was keen to experience again.

Working late into the night, accompanied by the steady beep of various machinery as he monitored a recovering patient was also stressful, but in a different way. Despite his experience, Ratchet still found himself nodding off at times, only to wake up at the slightest shift in a patient’s vitals. His spark thudded in his chest as he listened for the smallest change in the sounds from his patient, the mildest of hints that the patient’s progress was about to take a drastic nosedive. It wasn’t the heat of the battlefield, but it was still stressful.

Standing over a desk he’d created out of bent, rusty metal as he struggled to decipher the formula for an energy source that was dwindling before his very optics, however, was probably one of the most stressful situations Ratchet had ever found himself in. Despite his past experience of hundreds of years spent running back and forth, assessing multiple patients as he struggled to keep everyone under control, Ratchet hadn’t ever felt anything as troubling as he felt now.

Not only was short on time and supplies, but despite his best efforts, Ratchet knew he was out of luck. If they didn’t find a way off of the Primus-forsaken planet they’d gotten themselves stranded on, and soon, well… Ratchet didn’t even want to think about it.

He rubbed his optics and stood up straight, a heavy sigh escaping him. The base had long since grown silent, and Ratchet was left alone to work in the dim light. The children had left hours before, their respective guardians escorting them home. Optimus had done his best to keep Ratchet company for as long as he could manage, but the prime’s own exhaustion had been evident from the look in his optics. Ratchet hadn’t hesitated to send him to his quarters, but he had to admit that Optimus’ presence had been comforting—if only slightly.

Ratchet’s joints creaked and groaned as he reached for one of the empty crates nearby and dragged it closer. After gently lowering himself back down, he prepared to lose himself in the layers of equations and symbols he couldn’t even *begin* to comprehend. However, when he tried to reboot the console—when had it even turned off on him?—it simply refused to work. He tapped the digital keyboard again, starting to feel rather impatient.

Nothing.

“Great,” Ratchet huffed, rolling his optics as he threw his servos up in the air with exasperation. “What’ll be next, a Decepticon invasion?”

“Mm… not quite,” a familiar voice replied. Before Ratchet had a chance to respond, warm servos wrapped their way around his bulky waist, pulling him in close. “We’ve talked about this, doc. Didja really think I’d just sit by and watch you work yourself to death?”

“Hello, you,” Ratchet sighed, his irritation overshadowed by audible affection. “How’d you even manage to get inside?”

“Trade secrets,” was Ratchet’s only response. The newcomer’s servos trailed up and down Ratchet’s sides, digits slipping in between tender mesh to tug at the wires beneath. “Why are you still awake? I thought we agreed on putting the late nights to an end.”

There was a sense of authority to the words that sent a shudder through Ratchet’s frame. Despite his own exhaustion, he could feel the familiar tingling between his thighs, and he didn’t discourage it. He leaned into the tender servos, pressing his aft against the mech’s codpiece. To his surprise, he could sense a warmth just as intense as his own beneath the thick metal.

“Wheeljack,” Ratchet chided, his words breathy as the wrecker’s servos dipped between his thighs. “I’m busy. If you’re here for another session, I suggest you make it quick.”

“You better watch your tone, doc,” Wheeljack grunted, his helm inches away from Ratchet’s audials. “Or do I need to remind you who’s in charge here?”

Ratchet’s breath hitched in his throat at the words, a burst of warmth spreading beneath his panels. He’d never admit it—not to the rest of the team, at least—, but the evenings he had spent with Wheeljack for the past few months had become a form of stress-relief for him. Without another word, Ratchet allowed the wrecker to guide him into a standing position against the makeshift desk, physically turning him around until he was face-to-face with his partner.

“That’s better,” Wheeljack hummed with satisfaction.

Ratchet watched through half-open optics as Wheeljack lowered himself to the floor, crouched between the doctor’s knees. Just the sight of Wheeljack kneeling on the floor, waiting for access to the slick warmth beneath Ratchet’s panels had him shivering with anticipation. He shuddered as Wheeljack traced a careful digit in a slow, lazy circle over the sealed interface array.

“Open up for me,” Wheeljack said, his optics reflecting the impatience he didn’t try to hide.

Seconds later, the wrecker’s demand was punctuated by the sound of Ratchet’s valve cover clicking open. Wheeljack made a small noise of appreciation as he studied the soft, plush opening, his gaze taking in the way Ratchet’s tender lips clenched and pulsed. Despite their given roles during intercourse, Wheeljack had always loved the chances he got to fully worship Ratchet’s valve for the beauty that it was. Tucked between thick, shapely thighs, the plump lips were truly a sight to behold. With one servo squeezing Ratchet’s thigh, Wheeljack traced the edge of his other servo across the outside, eliciting a shuddering groan from Ratchet.

“Shhh,” Wheeljack hushed the medic as he leaned in, his faceplates inches away from the warm, dripping entrance. “Don’t wanna wake the others, do you?”

A quiet, shaky sigh was all Wheeljack recieved in response. Satisfied with his partner’s compliance, Wheeljack pulled his servo away, only to slip one of his digits between the valve lips, drawing in and out with a soft squelching sound. He raised his other servo to brace himself against Ratchet’s hip before dipping a second digit in, carefully rubbing against the tender node on the outside of Ratchet’s valve.

“You must’ve been expecting me, hmm? Were you waiting for me to come and give your pretty little valve the attention it deserves?” Wheeljack whispered, his soaked digits circling the rim of Ratchet’s valve before gently slipping back inside. “Such a beautiful mech you are. Nice and hefty… Just the way I like it.”

Ratchet’s hips jerked forward into the slow, methodical rhythm, encouraged by the sultry words Wheeljack spoke. He gave a small, keening groan as Wheeljack moved faster, his desperation overshadowing the cool exterior he typically wore.

“You like that, doc?” Wheeljack asked, his own frame growing hot from the intimate display. “You want more?”

“Please,” Ratchet shuddered, one servo gripping the edge of the desk while the other held tight to Wheeljack’s shoulder plating.

Wheeljack pulled his digits free, a soft sound of satisfaction escaping him at the way lubricant dripped from the tips. After taking a few moments to relish in the way Ratchet’s frame had begun to shake, sticky heat radiating from between his thighs, Wheeljack leaned in again. This time, instead of using his servos to pleasure his partner, Wheeljack began stroking over the rim of Ratchet’s valve with his tongue. He sucked on the tip of Ratchet’s node, relishing in the tremors it sent through the medic’s frame, before moving down further. Ratchet kept his servos gripped on the edge of his desk, his frame heaving in each breath as his spark thudded in his chest.

“Are you ready, Ratchet?” Wheeljack asked, momentarily pulling away from Ratchet’s quivering valve long enough to stare up at the medic, who stared back down at him with a look of utter desire.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” Ratchet huffed, his servos already reaching down to pull Wheeljack up to his pedes. “Please, don’t make me wait.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Wheeljack grinned, slowly rising up to his pedes, “I suppose we can keep moving, sweetspark.”

Ratchet had never been one for pet names, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t deny the rush of pleasure it sent through his frame. He drew Wheeljack close, leaving desperate, sloppy kisses up and down the inventor’s neck as Wheeljack prepared himself. Before long, the sound of the wrecker’s spike pressurizing filled the air. Wheeljack’s servo dipped down to fondle Ratchet’s aft, grinding against the medic’s front as he prepared to slip inside of Ratchet’s valve. With every stroke of Wheeljack’s servo, every moment the tip of his spike brushed against his valve opening, the aroused medic gave another soft sound of approval.

Finally, Wheeljack grew tired of teasing. He slipped the head of his spike into Ratchet’s valve, careful not to move too quickly. Ever so gently, Wheeljack pushed deeper until he had completely filled his medic. Then, with slow, grinding motions, Wheeljack started up a steady pace in and out of the soaked valve.

“Frag,” Ratchet groaned, his servos digging into Wheeljack’s plating. “Ohh, frag, Wheeljack—nnghh, please—“

“Talk to me, Ratchet,” Wheeljack panted, the friction increasing as he sped up the pace. “Tell me what you need, sweetspark.”

Ratchet’s servos were caught in a vice grip against Wheeljack’s shoulders, his frame moving back and forth in time with Wheeljack’s thrusting. He threw his helm back with a loud groan as Wheeljack drove deeper, the ridges of his spike catching on tender nodes deep in Ratchet’s valve.

“Oh, yes, please—agh, harder, please!” Ratchet gasped, his voice rising with desperation as he grew closer and closer to his overload. The desk beneath him began to rock, pounding against the table with loud, thundering sounds that echoed through the base. “Nnghh, please—Ahh!”

“Good, that’s good,” Wheeljack panted, his servos braced against Ratchet’s hips as he plowed into the medic’s frame. A low, rhythmic sound of clanging metal against metal was punctuated by the noise of the desk against the wall as the two chased their climax.

A sound between a choked moan and a gargling whine slowly slips out of the sputtering medic’s lips, his frame hot to the touch and his cooling fans on full blast. As Wheeljack’s words sent another jolt of pleasure through his frame, Ratchet couldn’t not beg for more.

“Please,” he moaned, the sound loud and pitiful as he shuddered and jerked against the other mech’s steady pace “Wheeljack, please, more—I need more, I—ohhh, harder, please!”

The shift in position was startling, but Ratchet suddenly found himself being laid down against the cold base floor, Wheeljack’s own shuddering form towering over him. He barely had a chance to speak before the wrecker’s spike was slipping back into the warmth between Ratchet’s thighs.

Primus, he could feel himself teetering over the edge. He’d never been a quiet partner during intimate moments, but this experience was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Sure, their sexual encounters have never been very… well, vanilla, but Ratchet could hardly help the obscene sounds that escaped him, nor could he stop the loud, heavy breaths he sucked in through his vents as he trembled under Wheeljack’s touch.

“Keep talking, doc,” Wheeljack said, his own words punctuated by heavy pants and soft, nearly inaudible grunts. Unlike before, the wrecker didn’t hesitate to begin up a fast, steady pace, causing Ratchet’s frame to rock back and forth into the violent thrusts. “Say my name, yeah? Go on, keep—nghh, keep going.”

Ratchet, not one to disobey the wrecker during their more intimate moments, simply braced himself against the desk as Wheeljack pounded into him, his mouth open wide with sounds of pleasure and approval. “Ungh—ahhh, yes, Wheeljack, yes—frag, harder, harder! Harder, yes—!”

“Go ahead, Ratchet,” Wheeljack groaned, slowing down long enough to lean over Ratchet’s prone form and whisper into his audials. “Overload for me.”

Immediately, Ratchet’s entire frame was suddenly alight with a burst of pleasure stronger than anything he’d ever felt before. As a loud, staticky cry escaped him, Ratchet arched up into Wheeljack’s hold, his hips bucking against the wrecker’s frame with enough force for his paint-job to rub off onto Wheeljack. Waves of heat spread like fire from between his thighs into the rest of his frame, tearing a second loud, desperate moan from the medic as Wheeljack kept a steady pace, drawing the overload out for as long as possible. Only when Ratchet’s systems began to shut down, overwhelmed by the sudden skyrocket in temperature, did Wheeljack stop.

The blackout only lasted for a few seconds, but when Ratchet’s optics online again, he found himself staring up at Wheeljack’s smug expression, his frame quivering and his breath coming in soft, shuddering whimpers. A coating of slick, warm liquid dripping between his inner thighs told him everything he needed to know before he even had a chance to register what had occurred. So caught up in the post-coital haze, Ratchet almost didn't notice when Wheeljack finally slipped free of his entrance.

“Feeling better?” Wheeljack asked, one servo stroking up and down Ratchet’s thigh while he stared down at the medic. “Must’ve been a good bit of stress to unpack. Never heard you scream so loud, doc.”

Ratchet turned away, his faceplates heating up with embarrassment. “Let me up,” he huffed, ignoring Wheeljack’s extended servo as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Wheeljack ignored Ratchet’s stubbornness, instead helping the medic up to his pedes. As soon as Ratchet had stood up and settled himself back down onto the storage crate, Ratchet awkwardly cleared his throat. He fiddled with his servos as Wheeljack stood by, not speaking a word as he watched the medic with careful optics.

“Well,” Ratchet finally said, deciding to be the one who broke the silence. “That was… that was nice, Wheeljack. I really needed a break.”

“Uh-huh,” Wheeljack replied. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the medic, his expression unreadable.

Ratchet glanced between Wheeljack and the console, which was still turned off. The familiar tension he felt when dealing with the energon problem—the one problem he knew he’d never be able to solve—began to rise up in his chest. It took all of his effort not to give in right then and there, and let Wheeljack take over for him… again.

“There’s still a lot of work for me to finish,” he added, one servo rubbing the back of his helm as he waited for Wheeljack’s next move. “You can stay if you’d like, but—“

“I didn’t say we were finished, did I?” Wheeljack said, his arms remaining crossed over his chest as he stared down at Ratchet.

At first, Ratchet was a little surprised. He had agreed to trying out a new dynamic in their relationship, of course, but he hadn’t expected Wheeljack to take new roles so seriously. Still, he couldn’t deny the sense of comfort and satisfaction he felt from the wrecker taking the lead—even if it meant he couldn’t finish the work he so desperately needed to complete. However, the feelings of security he felt didn’t automatically mean he was going down without a fight.

“I can’t just quit working now that you’ve showed up,” Ratchet said, his voice lacking the usual tension he typically carried. “Now step aside and let me finish, Wheeljack.”

There was a brief silence between the two as both mechs waited for the other to give in. Much to Ratchet’s frustration, however, Wheeljack was refusing to budge. He opened his mouth, a snarky retort on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t get a single word out before Wheeljack stopped him.

“Stand up,” the wrecker said, motioning with his servo.

“Wh—what?” Ratchet scoffed. He crossed his arms then, glaring up at the wrecker with a look of defiance. “Wheeljack, I told you—“

“Don’t make me ask twice, doc,” Wheeljack cut in, his frown deepening. “I already told you we aren’t done here. Stand up for me.”

Ratchet made a sound of protest, but eventually complied. Once he did, however, he was a little surprised—just a little—when Wheeljack took a seat on the cargo container instead. The wrecker reclined back against the console, using it as a backrest as he made himself comfortable. At the look of confusion on Ratchet’s expression, Wheeljack merely chuckled, then beckoned for Ratchet to join him.

“You can’t be serious,” Ratchet said, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. They were alone, as far as he knew, but he still checked to make sure they weren’t being watched by any fellow Autobots.

“Plenty of room,” Wheeljack said, gently patting the space between his legs. “Or are you too good for snuggling your favorite wrecker now, too?”

Ratchet took a step forward, hesitant. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable—he’d done much more drastic things with the wrecker before, after all, but this… it was new, undiscovered territory for him. It felt good, of course, but it also felt wrong. As if sensing his inner dilemma, Wheeljack leaned forward and gently grabbed ahold of Ratchet’s servo, drawing him in close. He didn’t stop until Ratchet was comfortably situated in his lap, and even then, Wheeljack still adjusted and readjusted their position. Once he was satisfied, Wheeljack glanced down at Ratchet, the medic’s helm comfortably positioned to rest against the wrecker’s chest.

“Comfortable?” He asked, on servo stroking up and down Ratchet’s side, the other interlacing with Ratchet’s free servo.

There was silence at first, and Wheeljack was more than willing to remain convinced that Ratchet had finally given into his contentment and allowed himself this one chance to relax and be comforted. As was to be expected when dealing with the stubborn medic, however, Wheeljack was wrong.

“…you didn’t have to come, you know,” Ratchet whispered, speaking just loudly enough for Wheeljack to hear.

“‘Course I did,” Wheeljack replied. He shifted against the cargo box until their frames were pressed together, their arms intertwined and legs comfortably stretched out over the edge. “I’d never leave you here to sulk all by yourself.”

“I do not sulk,” Ratchet grumbled. After a few seconds of silence, he added, “I… I can take care of myself, you know. I am a medic, after all. It’s my job—“

“Your job is to care for the rest of the team,” Wheeljack said, gently correcting Ratchet as he stroked the medic’s faceplates with his free servo. “It’s my job to take care of you, doc.”

Ratchet made a soft sound of acknowledgment, but didn’t respond. Satisfied that he’d finally won the discussion, Wheeljack wrapped both arms around the tired medic and held him close. Their private, more intimate moments were often few and far between, but Wheeljack was happy to take every chance he could get with the medic. His medic.

[aeonmagnus]

Optimus Prime in Motormaster Disguise (Concept)

So in the original Transformers cartoon episode "Masquerade," five of the Autobots go undercover disguised as the Stunticons. I've always thought the episode concept was clever (almost all the Stunticons turn into vehicles that just happen to have Autobot counterparts) but I think the episode would have worked better if the animators hadn't used the Stunticon animation models to represent the disguised Autobots. If you watch the episode carefully, the disguised Autobots spend the entire episode in vehicle mode. This suggests to me that the Autobots were merely painted like the Stunticons.

I feel like the Autobots should have gotten some special animation models for this episode. It probably would have been a logistical nightmare, so I don't blame them for not doing it this way, but it would have been more compelling if the Autobots had been drawn like their normal selves but colored to match the Stunticon colors.

This is my concept of what Optimus Prime probably should have looked like in the episode. Now he actually looks like he's been repainted in order to go on an undercover mission. You might mistake him for Motormaster from a distance, if you squint and took your glasses off.

Jazz in Dead End Disguise (Concept Art)

The Autobots dressed up to look like the Stunticons in the Transformers cartoon episode "Masquerade," and the characters who were selected to go undercover to impersonate the Stunticons were chosen based on their vehicle forms. Jazz turns into a Porsche 935, and Dead End transforms into a Porsche 928. So, not identical, but kind of close. The episode specifically states that paint was used to disguise the Autobots. They weren't reconstructed. Therefore, I think Jazz should have actually appeared in the episode looking something like this.

I did digitally erase the racing stripes on Jazz since they would have been painted over for his Dead End disguise. I figured Jazz's robot mode would also be painted to look like Dead End as much as possible, within the confines of his design and the way he transforms. Dead End has huge wheels on his shoulders and Jazz (in the cartoon) does not, but Jazz got shoulders that are colored as if the wheels are still there.

Even in Stunticon colors, though, it's pretty obviously still Jazz. That spoiler is a dead giveaway.

Sideswipe in Breakdown Disguise (Concept Art)

If you paint Sideswipe's car mode in the correct colors, he makes an absolutely perfect Breakdown. They both transform into a Lamborghini Countach so the resemblance is uncanny. This is why Sideswipe was chosen to play the role of Breakdown when his group went undercover as the Stunticons in the G1 cartoon episode "Masquerade."

The Autobots spent the entire episode in vehicle mode, though, so I don't think they were meant to be drawn exactly like the Stunticons, as they were in the finished episode. I believe the original intention was for the Autobots to retain their original designs but to be painted in the colors of the Stunticons. If that had happened, Sideswipe might have looked more like this.

Sideswipe and Breakdown transform totally differently from each other, though (the hood of the car forms Sideswipe's chest, among other things) so he can't quite pull off the robot mode look as well. Actually, I think there might be an unofficial World's Smallest Transformers version of Breakdown that looks a bit like this, since it was a redeco of the existing Sideswipe toy design.

Mirage in Drag Strip Disguise (Concept Art)

Mirage went undercover as the Stunticon named Drag Strip in the Transformers cartoon episode "Masquerade." In the episode, the disguised Mirage was simply drawn like Drag Strip, which is at odds with the episode's claim that the Autobots were disguised using paint. Given that the Autobots spent the entire episode in their vehicle forms, I wonder if the plan was for them to be animated as themselves, but colored differently.

If that had happened, Mirage might have looked something like this in the episode in question. Drag Strip's color model is kind of interesting because, unlike the Hasbro toy, he appears in two different shades of yellow. It's likely the darker yellow was merely intended to indicate shading, but in some episodes his animation model is taken very literally, with the spoiler and hood and driver's canopy consistently colored a dark mustard yellow.

I added racing stripes to Mirage's animation model because Drag Strip has these, and I feel like it would have been an important part of his attempt at a disguise. Incidentally, I would totally buy a toy of Mirage in these colors, official or otherwise. (Get on it, Takara!)

Windcharger in Wildrider Disguise (Concept Art)

There's a Transformers episode from 1985 called "Masquerade" in which the Autobots get new paint jobs and pretend to be the Stunticons. Windcharger is kind of the outlier here because he's the only Autobot who doesn't really match the make and model of the Stunticon he's impersonating (Windcharger was a Pontiac Trans Am, and Wildrider was a Ferarri Testerossa).

What's interesting about the episode is that the Autobots appeared identical to the Stunticons, even though dialogue clearly indicates they were camouflaged using paint only. Starscream was suspicious of the fake Stunticons in the episode, which would have made sense if their disguises had not been perfect. I think the original plan might have been to animate the undercover Autobots using their regular designs, but coloring them to match the Stunticons.

This is how Windcharger might have looked in the episode if they'd gone in this direction instead. The car mode isn't terrible-looking, but he really can't pull off the look as a robot at all. This is obviously not his fault, and we can't blame him for that.