#skyfire transformers

[fancydusk]

The finished thing in question

The "I circled half of the goble searching for him.... But he was gone..." Line is just so gay. They were so in love

[maskedzafiro-blog]

Omg who are they, what a mystery.

[icecream4starscream]

found a couple nice starscream and skyfire art pieces on twitter. Thought I’d repost here. THESE ARE NOT MINE!

[lecanel]

A big and harmful RAT (but it doesn't seem to bite)

And then I felt sad and decided they needed to make up (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

[serialpublicpisserr]

merry christmas skystar nation

[fpovyyy]

DID SOMEONE SAY SKYFIRE/JETFIRE?

[ojamayellow]

terrible attempt at skyfire collage

[galaxyforu]

absolute. idiots.

[blackteaduck]

starscream looks so happy 🥺🥺✨️❤️

( I think so🤣🤣

Skyfire is the big Sky, and Starscream is just like a little little shiny star 🥺✨️✨️✨️

Skyfire loves the little star so much ❤️

New post full drawing link🌟❤️

[lemonsleaf]

hai! I saw this online somewhere, so now I wanna do it!

Assigning my favorite bots n’ cons Jellycats + my reasoning!!!! (my opinions!!!!!)

I think we know why!!!

Why? They look alike. JUST LOOK!!!

they both steal shit and i hate (love) them

they’re literally twins. can’t even tell them apart! 😦

this is all i see when i look at him.

Also, honorable mentions:

Skyfire as a Polarbear

Shockwave as a rat bc that’s what he is (🙄)

[starsh0ck]

They’re watching spooky scary movies

(Version with and without lighting)

[fancydusk]

Guess who they are :3

You guys are gonna hate me when you see the finished thing

[ruby-myth-dreamer]

My first time actually drawing skyfire decently and its to fuel my rain world obsession lmaoo

(Inspired by @seafoamsol 's rain world transformer au thingy its so sillyyy)

Initial Sketch

Just skyfire :3

[c1ov3rz]

Frozen Eternity

The icy wasteland stretched endlessly in every direction, a blank canvas upon which memories painted themselves in cold, unforgiving hues. Starscream’s thrusters whined softly as he landed on the edge of a jagged cliff. The desolation suited him. No Autobot patrols, no Decepticon scheming—just the howling wind and the ghost of someone he could never forget.

Skyfire.

Once, millennia ago, they had flown these very skies together, mapping the uncharted beauty of this planet. Back then, Starscream had been different—ambitious, yes, but not yet consumed by his hunger for power. Skyfire had been his anchor, his partner, his one true friend in a universe that seemed determined to rip Starscream’s dreams from his grasp.

The snow crunched beneath his feet as Starscream made his way to the crumbling remains of a makeshift beacon. The structure had long since been buried in ice, but its design was unmistakable. Skyfire had built it—a signal for rescue that never came.

Starscream knelt, his talons scraping the frost-covered metal. "You always believed someone would come for you," he whispered bitterly. His optics dimmed as he gazed into the infinite expanse of white. "You believed in me."

He clenched his fists, his servos trembling. He had left Skyfire here. Abandoned him. The storm that had separated them had been fierce, but the storm inside Starscream had been fiercer. He had told himself it was logical, that survival came first. And yet, deep down, he knew the truth: he had been afraid. Afraid of losing everything, afraid of facing the possibility that his partner might already be gone.

But Skyfire hadn’t been gone. Not then.

Starscream had learned much later—too late—that Skyfire had survived the storm, trapped beneath the ice. The Autobots had found him eventually, long after Starscream had joined the Decepticons and buried his guilt under layers of ambition and cruelty. When their paths crossed again, Skyfire had looked at him with those same kind optics, as if no time had passed. As if nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

"Why did you forgive me?" Starscream murmured, his voice cracking. "I didn’t deserve it."

The wind roared in response, carrying with it a distant sound that almost resembled Skyfire’s laugh. Starscream turned sharply, his wings twitching, but there was nothing—only the endless storm. He sagged, his armor creaking under the weight of memories. He had always pretended he didn’t care, that Skyfire’s forgiveness was meaningless. Yet here he was, a Decepticon commander reduced to a fragile shadow, haunted by a past he could never reclaim.

"You were a fool," Starscream spat, though the words held no venom. "You should have left me behind."

The beacon’s structure groaned under the weight of centuries. Starscream brushed away the snow, revealing a faded inscription etched into the metal. He traced the lines with a clawed finger, his optics narrowing as he read the words Skyfire had carved so long ago:

"For Starscream. No matter where the winds take us."

Starscream’s spark surged with an ache that bordered on physical pain. He stood abruptly, his wings flaring as if he could somehow escape the raw emotion threatening to consume him. But there was no escape. Not from this.

He sank back to his knees, unable to leave, unable to stay. Memories flooded him with brutal clarity. He saw Skyfire’s smile, heard his voice—always calm, always steady. "Starscream," Skyfire had once said, "you can’t outrun everything. One day, you’ll have to stop. You’ll have to face yourself."

The storm howled louder, as though mocking him. He had tried to outrun himself, tried to bury the part of him that cared, but it was futile. Skyfire’s words, his hope, had embedded themselves too deeply in Starscream’s core. And now, here he was, in the very place where everything had fallen apart.

"I’m sorry," Starscream whispered, the words cutting through his vocalizer like shards of ice. "I’m so sorry."

A gust of wind blasted through the canyon, and for a moment, it carried a sound that made Starscream freeze. A voice—so faint he almost thought it was his imagination.

"Starscream."

He whipped around, his optics scanning the blizzard. "Skyfire?" he called out, desperation lacing his tone. "Skyfire!"

But there was no one. Only the storm.

Starscream’s wings drooped, and he lowered his helm. It was a cruel trick of his processor, nothing more. Yet, in that fleeting moment, he had felt a warmth he hadn’t known in eons. Perhaps it was Skyfire’s memory reaching out to him, or perhaps it was his own guilt giving him what he longed to hear.

He reached out and placed his clawed hand against the beacon one last time. "You should have been the one to survive," he said, his voice trembling. "You would have done better with this universe than I ever could."

The beacon’s structure groaned again, but this time it didn’t collapse. Instead, a faint light flickered at its base, illuminating the inscription Skyfire had left. Starscream stared at it, his spark aching with a bittersweet mixture of pain and gratitude. For all his faults, Skyfire had believed in him, even when Starscream couldn’t believe in himself.

"I’ll keep flying," he said again, more firmly this time. "For both of us."

As Starscream took to the skies, the storm began to abate, the winds quieting as if to watch him go. And far below, the faint glow of the beacon persisted, a silent testament to a bond that even time and war could not erase.

Forever.

[icky-wicky]

More Starscream practice along with an attempt at figuring out how the hell to draw Skyfire

[serialpublicpisserr]