#this post is about chromedome and rewind

[gonetoforks]

the main difference between watching Steven Universe and reading Transformers is if the gayass inorganic warring shapeshifting space aliens making you sad are either bara or yuri

[amplexadversary]

.

[cozzzynook]

For years it was a long running joke between the Autobots about who the hottest of them was. Two camps formed. One that firmly believed Prowl as the hottest and one that stubbornly believed Ratchet was the hottest.

Hot Rod, later known as Rodimus, is peeved Prowl was considered hotter than him and joined team Ratchet out of spite—anyone who personally knows Prowl is also on this team. Except Impactor and Jazz who are firmly team Prowl. Optimus stays out of it because of his personal belief Senator Shockwave would’ve been the hottest. (Shockwave hears about this competition and logically draws the conclusion Prime is the most aesthetically pleasing.)

When it became public knowledge that Prowl had a son, his hotness factor went up, much to Springer’s dismay. Then Ratchet came back with his rich husband, reframe, a baby bump, and blew the competition out of the water.

Rodimus hosts a huge party on the Lost Light. Rewind has prepared a video presentation for this, Chromedome helped. Swerve serves themed drinks. Minimus allows this only because it’s useless at this point to dissuade Rodimus from celebrating a victory over Prowl. Drift is trying hard to not lose it because Ratchet is HIS milf thank you very much. Tailgate has to ask what a milf is and Whirl is delighted to provide an answer. Simpatico are holding a debate over the measure of a mech’s attractiveness that’s really them flirting like nerds.

Megatron is standing in the corner and wondering how his life turned out like this.

I really really like this lol

I can see rodimus flipping bots off while enjoying prowl losing and he gives drift and ratchet a long vacation to enjoy each other alone and make as many sparklings as they want.

While megatron is just rolling his optics.

Shockwave decides everyone needs to know its optimus who would look the best sparked and he decides to do just that the first chance he gets. He buys a spike wrap not big enough for his massive spike but optimus had already long gotten rid of his spark baffles. They match energy so well ya know?

Also prowl is definitely sparked with jazz’s bitty while tarantulas and the constructicons try to talk the couple into letting both parties spark prowl up one more time. Jazz is not having it lol.

Rodimus later throws another party when bee gets sparked by windblade and starscream. No one argued he was the cutest bot to get sparked. They just had to keep a recently post sparked optimus from killing the two bots who got his bitty sparked.

Tailgate is a close second for cutest sparked bot but everyone was too terrified to throw a party since his guard dogs whirl and cyclonus kept everyone deemed a threat away from him.

Dare i say rodimus is surprisingly thrown in the mix when megatron and soundwave spark him up??

Rodimus is not happy to be sparked and the others are down right pissed when they only catch a glimpse of the red mech through a photo soundwave and megatron took while smirking.

Everyone eventually just agrees they all have gorgeous sparked partners lol

[decepti-thots]

Sometimes I have to remind myself that a lot of people in fact have not read/skipped the prose stories in IDW, so for what it's worth, I think any discussion of pre-Overlord Drift-Rodimus dynamics needs to consider this specific scene from the post-RiL one. I am passionate enough about this I'm putting it below the cut, though I have the whole story hosted here btw. It establishes a few really important things, IMO:

What I just discussed regarding Rodimus having voluntarily brought Overlord onto the ship, against Drift's wishes

Him attempting to prevent Drift from taking the fall because he knows it's his fault, and Drift being the one to tell him no about this

The revelation Drift was keeping his motivation for putting Rodimus in charge a secret from Rodimus, which he only explains before leaving

Drift being clear he did not take the fall to help Rodimus per se, but because he considers it the necessary thing to do as per his vision, which is ultimately the most important thing to him period

That's a LOT of stuff without which the dynamic does not read at all the same way going forward, IMO. Basically any discussion of those two in s1 should really take it into consideration in terms of both sides' motivations, especially regarding Drift's motivations in keeping Rodimus content and in charge no matter what he said or did, and Rodimus' relative ignorance of said motivations.

****

As Rodimus stepped into his office he shielded his eyes—literally put his hand to his face—to avoid catching sight of the flames he’d had painted around the doorframe. As soon as he’d sorted out the current mess he’d ask Atomizer to help him redecorate. No more fire-rimmed entrances, garish pink walls or self-aggrandizing plaques: just a desk, a chair, some subdued lighting and a memorial to crewmembers killed by sparkeater, Legislator, or Overlord.

Overlord.

When his guard was down—when he wasn’t showing off or doodling or spray-painting—the name made him think of the people who had died or lost loved ones because he’d been too scared to say no to Prowl. Overlord made him think of Pipes and Rewind and Chromedome and Lockstock and Lancet, but one face—Drift’s face—kept crowding out all the others. It had been here, in his office, that they’d had their last proper conversation.

“An inquiry?” Drift stood in the doorway, looking incredulous. “An inquiry?”

Rodimus dragged him inside and locked the door. “I had to do something! People were asking questions! And what do you do if you want to stall things? You launch an inquiry.” He slumped into his chair. “An inquiry into something I’m responsible for. Oh god. Oh god, I feel sick. I’ve messed up big time.”

“I can sort this out, Rodimus. Honestly, I can fix this.”

“This is my fault, not yours. We were standing in Prowl’s office, and he was trying to convince me that bringing Overlord onboard was ‘right and proper’, and you called me an idiot for even considering it.”

“Was I that blunt?”

“I don’t know why he even let you in on those discussions in the first place. It’s not like he trusts you.”

“I’ll tell you exactly why he wanted me there: it was in case something like this happened. Need a scapegoat? Get an ex-Decepticon.”

“Well it’s not gonna happen. I’m taking the fall for this one. Your name doesn’t have to come into it. It’s taken you years to win back people’s trust, and you’re not throwing it all away on my behalf.”

“Rodimus, if you tell the crew what you’ve done, then that’s it. The quest’s over. We’ll never find the Knights.”

“No, it just means someone else will take over. You, maybe? Ratchet? I dunno. Someone.”

“But someone doesn’t take over!” Rodimus looked up sharply. “’Doesn’t’?”

“Won’t.”

“You said ‘doesn’t.’ What d’you mean, ‘doesn’t’?”

“It’s hard to explain what I mean.” Drift unclipped his Great Sword and placed it on the desk. “You remember when I nearly died, back on Cybertron? I was within feet of Vector Sigma.”

“Yes…” said Rodimus slowly, unsure where this was going.

“When I put this sword through my spark, I saw something.”

“What, like a vision?”

“Kind of. More a sense of how things would play out. It was abstract and it was fleeting, and every time I call it to mind it becomes harder to interpret, but something is around the corner, Rodimus—and a year from now, or 50 years from now, that something will arrive, and we won’t be able to stop it unless we find the Knights. And I don’t care if you think, ‘Oh, that’s just Drift being Drift,’ because I’m convinced that you need to remain in charge. People can come and go—they can die—but you have to be here, otherwise we will fail. And so the simple solution—the only solution—is that I take the blame for this.”

“I won’t let you do this for me.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for everyone else.”

[fjordline]

i cannot believe i wrote an essay for a comment on my post asking for my opinion.. only to get blocked before i could reply 💔

disclaimer: this is about something as unimportant as a character in a transformer comic and why i don't like him

i dont want to make anyone who's a tailgate superfan feel bad or anything this is just my personal opinion as someone who has read all of idw1. despite of how it may seem.. i do not identify as a hater! anyway, he's not an overtly bad character at the start, the contrived asspulls begin around the tyrest arc, tg supposedly has one day left to live because of lethal cybercrosis. he goes on to save everyone by jumping tyrest and then later rewriting the code of the legislators. and after a drawn out sad monologue on his death bed, cyclonus stabs him with his greatsword which…. for some reason cures his deadly illness. and it only gets worse once megatron arrives, the whole narrative bends over backwards to asskiss megatron and make you think of tailgate as some kind of cute mascot character to set up for the getaway 'villain' arc. tailgate is written as a stupid baby who earnestly believes he's injecting megatron with an 'anti-villain-virus' to get rid of his evil thoughts, his holoform is also. a baby. jro tries to make getaway look bad by making him cartoonishly evil, when, what getaway did cannot begin to be compared to everything megatron was doing right up to his trial. yet getaway gets all his limbs and jaw amputated and megatron gets to carry on with his ''''''''''''''''reformed autobot''''''''''''''' shit and all the good guys stick up for him.

yet somehow even worse than the megatron bootlicking is the 'energy spasm' incident. when cyclonus is shot while protecting tailgate and this causes him to be sooooo heartbroken that he .. has a panic attack that causes some kind of rainbow wave to go off for no reason. this wave somehow, not only wakes thunderclash up from his coma, but gives tailgate inexplicable super strength invincibility powers. It boggles my mind what made tg deserve any of that, because he cared about cyclonus and was sad he seemingly died? does that mean chromedome wasn't sad enough when rewind died or he also would have energy spasmed? this is around where i stopped on my last re-read so i don't remember the specific events of lost light quite as well, i do remember it not getting much better though.

and i personally cannot stand smol uwu bean type characters, when he says some shit like 'i deserve a heckin bomp for this' i start wanting to drown in a bathtub. cyclonus deserves so much better. they have no chemistry. they're just the 'grumpy x sunshine OTP XD' trite trope. whirl and cyc have a 200000 times more interesting dynamic. rodimus and his hatred of hats is a more interesting dynamic.

i feel like cyc gets bogged down so hard by the romance plot hes forced to take part in, when he's away from tg he is so much more entertaining and interesting. at a certain point it's like he starts doing fuck all except hang around tailgate and wax poetic about their love. cdrw manages to never be annoying when they're loveydovey with each other, but cygate drives me up the wall

mtmte is simultanously so good… yet so mald inducing that it compels me to write shit like this. i wouldnt care so much about this one fucking robot if (most of) the rest of the comic wasn't so excellent

this is all subjective obviously and i havent seen anyone else dislike tg other than me and some friends. he literally seems to be universally loved so maybe im just sick and twisted.

[wifetomegatron]

You said it was more convenient to post requests here, so here it is again:

I loved the "meeting the family" storyline very much. Can we get a First Contact fic of you trying to hide your relationship from your family (since theyre robo/phobic or youre embarrassed) but one day your family spots you getting out of a car they don't recognize and you have to explain that your bf wasn't in the car... he WAS the car.

Either with Rodimus, Chromedome (and Rewind), or... IDK, your choice really

sorry for the long wait, dear ! this made me think out of the box and experiment a little so I hope you enjoy it <3 thank you for being my first official request !

rodimus meets your uptight parents. first contact au. sfw (only few suggestive themes -ish).

" I commanded a ship. I went on a quest — well, that was before Earth. But, I mean, that's impressive, right? "

" Babe."

" I killed a sparkeater. I have Drift to testify, and Magnus, and two hundred others —"

" Roddy."

" I also carried the Matrix !"

" Rodimus, please !" You huffed, placing a hand flat against the dashboard: the metal underneath was stiff with tension. Your lover slowed down for the red light, rubber crunching against the pavement. Outside, the weather was clear — sunny without a cloud, and people poured out into the streets, crossing the zebra and laughing in the distance. It made you even more miserable. Sensing this, Rodimus took it upon himself to give the seatbelt across your body a small, reassuring squeeze.

He cleared his intake, static over the radio.

" I'm only nervous because you're nervous. And you're never this nervous."

" Sorry, “ You felt guilty already, “ I didn't mean to interrupt your little crisis but I’m sure you'll talk yourself to death before the anxiety can kill you ."

" Do you blame me for being nervous?"

A cold, heavy feeling dropped into the pit of your stomach. And the silence was back again, an unusual and uwelcomed guest in the home you and Rodimus have built. The reason that you were out today was that your parents had called — rousing you from what could have been the perfect start to a lazy Sunday, courtesy of Rodimus and his very, very talented mouth — to remind you about the brunch appointment you were supposed to attend an hour ago.

Panicked and already out of your boyfriend's arms, Rodimus couldn't quite understand how this was scary enough to make you spring out of his embrace and into a pair of pants — he emphasized how disappointed he was at how you were already dressed this early in the morning, on a weekend, no less.

Until you looked at him dead in the optics and whispered, “ They want to meet you too.”

That was enough to make him run for the garage.

You had warned him about your parents earlier in your relationship — at least, attempted.

" It's my parents," You had explained then, albeit the memory was fuzzy due to alcohol. All you remembered was that it was hard to stop Rodimus from doing anything when he was tipsy and flirty and running his servos all over your body.

“I’m sure they’ll like me,” He had smirked, pushing the topic aside and already sinking on his knees, “ Everyone likes me.”

That felt like ages ago. You’ve been delaying the subject, and today it has come back to finally bite you in the ass. Now, thanks to traffic and terrible skills at reading the GPS, you were two hours late to meet your parents and might as well be on death row.

“It won’t be so bad, right?”

You winced.

It took a while for you to explain to him that ‘picky’ was just an easy way of explaining to strangers that they were painfully traditional. Having been raised in a very small upper-crust bubble within an even smaller community, their obsession with keeping the family closed off was almost archaic: your father actually has a spreadsheet as a criteria board for what counts as a ‘compatible’ match. It was Eurystheus and Hercules all over again, except you wished the challenge was slaying a nine-headed hydra. It was something Rodimus could come out of alive.

Because no one has ever lived up to the insurmountable, one hundred and thirty-five-long list of requirements that would make someone worthy to be dating his only child. What was once a fun little fact you always used as an icebreaker at parties became an actual threat to the one person who's made you the happiest in a long time — and he's not even a person. He's an —

" — aliens, I’m guessing, never made it on his list, so I'm sure I'd be in the clear. Right?"

" Hold that thought, I think I see them," You peered over the driver’s seat and out the window as Rodimus pulled up to the sidewalk. It was adjacent to a terrace filled with tables, already crowded with people. Live jazz was playing behind the curtain of conversations, and you spot your father through the glass doors, checking his watch before crossing his arms. He didn’t seem too happy, leaning forward to whisper something inaudible to your mother’s ear.

Rodimus seemed to notice this.

" Uh, just go inside. I'll...catch up with my holoform."

From time to time again, you suggested that Rodimus get tinted windows. And if he had, for a second, thought about its practicality instead of calling you rude for assuming that you implied he could get them installed by the local car dealer, then maybe your father wouldn’t have spotted you.

“He’s coming this way,” You squeaked, combing your hair and quickly trying to make yourself look decent.

“Oh. Frag.”

A cluster of lights formed next to you, pixelating themselves to create a holographic image of what your boyfriend claims to be his persona if he were human. You weren't sure how to tell him that your father would immediately recognize Michael J Fox from Back to the Future. So you placed a firm hand across the dashboard to make him stop, shaking your head and confirming: this was it.

This was the moment you finally decided to fight for the person — not a person, he'd correct you — that made you feel alive. Feel loved. And you have to fight for that, even if it comes in the form of standing up to your up-tight, silver spoon, helicopter parents in the middle of the sidewalk and attracting the attention of over twenty people and a handful of Instagram influencers trying to peacefully take a picture of their bed of smoked salmon and caviar, then so be it.

" You better have a good explanation for this."

You sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep your chin up in defiance as you duel your father in a stare-down.

" It's time for me...to make my own decisions. And that includes who I decide to love. And be with. And date."

" Does he come with the tardiness?" He bit back.

" Oh, give them a chance to speak !" Coming at your defense was your mother, wringing her hands with worry and yet already peaking to admire the vehicle behind you, " Does he… come with the car, perhaps?"

You swallowed, the metal beneath your arm humming in distress,"You can say that."

Your father almost looked impressed. Almost. Suddenly you can't even hear the background music anymore, as if even the musicians had placed down their instruments, and are now rapt in attention at this showdown.

" What does he do?"

" He was a captain," The car roughly inched forward, “Is still, a captain. He’s just not on duty…at the moment.”

There was a murmur of appreciation from the nosy spectators.

"Where is he from ?"

" He's from... far away."

" Oh, lovey. I do love to travel," Your mother smiled, stiff and on the edge of exploding like a poorly timed confetti canon.

" Yes, but I don't think it's...that beautiful at this time of the year."

You lost your voice, suddenly compressed, as if you were a bottle of coke inside a sixty-second tikTok reel, ready to be crushed under the weight of an industrial metal press machine. You can tell Dad's already trying to work out what year Rodimus was manufactured in — vintage you'd joke, but it doesn't seem appropriate to condense lightyears into a punchline. Plus he wouldn't approve of the age gap.

" Let's see him. Tell the boy to step out of the car."

You steeled yourself as the sound of metal gears grinding and transforming flooded the area. The Earth lightly shook beneath you as Rodimus stood at full height, seemingly erasing any other noise from a five-mile radius like a black hole.

Someone dropped their teacup, the ceramic shattering in the distance.

“ Hi. Rodimus, here.”

It was safe to say that your mother only started to warm up to Rodimus in the waiting room of the hospital, when she had the chance to talk to the mech as you all waited for your father's discharge from Emergency — thankfully, Rodimus was quick enough to scoop him up as he fainted, so no traumatic head injury that had a one in five thousand chance of taking out the stick up his ass.

Surprisingly, your mother was already somewhat impressed: The former title of one-year Prime, his paint job, his humor.

Baby steps, you smiled to yourself and watched your mother drape an arm across Rodimus as she laughed at his joke. Baby steps.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #50 — The Midlife Crisis Cruise Comes to an End

Our issue begins on Earth— not Swearth, but honest-to-god Earth— where Optimus Prime and Jetfire are watching a broadcast. It’s not syndicated television like I Love Lucy or The Transformers (1984), however. No, this broadcast is coming from some of our favorite Lost Lighters, detailing their last will and testament.

Nautica wants to be buried on her home planet, and doesn’t give a hot gay fuck what they engrave on her sparkcase. Also she’s missing a good chunk of her face, but don’t worry about that too much.

Chromedome’s just happy that he’s dying WITH his husband this go around. I’m sure Brainstorm’s also thrilled to not have the “please please please stop stabbing yourself in the brain to avoid the pain of being a widower Jesus Christ we can’t keep doing this” conversation for the fifth time in a row.

Rewind takes the opportunity to poke Chromedome in the inferiority complex one last time, making his message out to Dominus Ambus. Our resident lovebirds want to “enter the afterspark simultaneously”, though that seems more like something to address with whoever’s killing them.

Over on Cybertron, in Metroplex’s titties, it would seem this broadcast is VERY wideband, as Starscream and Scoop (we’ll go over whatever the fuck’s going on there in another post) witness Nightbeat’s will and testament, though considering Nightbeat’s technically undead, I’m not sure how much legal weight it holds. Having done the whole “dying” thing before, I’m sure he’s spent many a long, sleepless night thinking about how it would happen next time. Ikea Johnson wants a “Neoprimalist” funeral, where they preserve only the head. Interesting that Nightbeat's religious sect is the same as Flywheels, the Scavenger who only existed to be a stand-in for the word "fuck".

Over on Luna 1, Red Alert is convinced that Megatron is using his gun mode to threaten Nightbeat. Fort Max isn’t so sure.

Minimus shows off the most recent trick he’s learned, saying the word “fun” with only stuttering twice. He wants to be buried on the moon, next to all of Rodimus’s failed pregnancies, and wearing the skin of a man who’s been dead for thousands of years.

Whirl doesn’t want a funeral, though you’d think he’d at least want his corpse thrown in the general direction of the Wreckers’ base, where every member gets a slot in the Zone of Remembrance as part of the onboarding. I know he got kicked out, but being shot out of a rail gun at Debris sounds roughly his speed.

Rung only requests that, should he die in his vape pen form, that he be dismantled. He’s very committed to preventing underage smoking, and for that I commend him.

Rung’s request greatly disturbs the Scavengers, who seem to have forgone fixing the Krok-shaped hole in the wall and buying a couch more than two of them can sit on at a time, in order to afford a replacement TV, after Krok fastball-specialed a golden disc through the last one.

On another part of Cybertron, Windblade and Wheeljack watch Velocity state that she doesn’t regret a single thing that’s happened while she’s been a part of the Lost Light. To recap, in the few months Velocity’s been aboard: Thunderclash almost died of being too perfect, Velocity’s first boss ran off to go bang a billionaire with a sword collection, Swerve almost died from too much television, her second boss ran off to get roped into the Polycule Wars, Tailgate exploded, Rung was revealed to be practicing without a license by way of a weird gibbon with a ball gag and his serial killer boyfriend, and she became the only practicing medical professional aboard a ship of over 200, after failing to pass her medical exams ten times. Oh, and she wants to be recycled.

Optimus wants to go save them, thinking that there’s still time. However, the Lost Light isn’t responding, and it doesn’t actually matter anyhow— these recording were sent out weeks ago.

Looks like that’s a series wrap on Nautica, Chromedome, Rewind, Nightbeat, Minimus, Whirl, Rung, and Velocity! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!

Three weeks prior, on the planet of Miliarium, action is happening:

Being on your headset in the middle of a battle seems rather rude, but I suppose sacrifices to politeness have to be made, when one of your co-captains is effectively forbidden from stepping foot on any planet that’s aware of Cybertron’s existence, given that he, y’know, is the face of a cause that slaughtered billions over the course of millions of years.

(No, don’t ask Optimus how relations with Earth are going.)

Megatron, continuing to command from orbit, tells Whirl to go help Cyclonus and Crossblades with the Rust Giants’ longship, asking for no casualties. Which is sort of like asking a horse on cocaine to not freak out and kick someone in the head, if that horse also had guns tied to 30% of its body.

Rodimus asks Megatron if he’s enjoying himself, playing a pacifist run of a wartime strategy game with their lives, and Megatron says that he’s “rumbled”; which I’m not sure if I’m search-engining wrong, but I don’t know that even the British are saying that to mean they’re right chuffed or tallywackered about a situation, or whatever. Rodimus is suddenly faced with a Rust Giant that he doesn’t even come up to the knee of, but luckily we have a new superhero to save the day, by way of incredible violence.

Looks like we’re still workshopping the battle-cries.

Tailgate punched this guy so hard it caused a jump-cut to the post-battle celebration, where Rodimus shows off his multi-typefacial abilities, Megatron perpetrates his bigotry towards organics, the Cybertronians make galactic news for a not-awful reason for once, and Swerve is also here! For some reason! It looks like it’s gonna be all peaches and cream from here on, so long as we ignore the first three pages of this issue!

Hey, Cyclonus, you have to wait for him to call you, you're not an Autobot. Just because the little white guy you're Sufjan Stevens-level attached to is going, doesn't mean— Cyclonus, hey. Hey, Cyclonus. Cyclonus. Cycl—

Later, back on the Lost Light, class is in session. We finally get a look at those course Megatron’s been teaching, only briefly mentioned by Riptide in issue #29. The current course track is on the Knights of Cybertron, Megatron having assigned those in attendance to write essays tackling “pre-Functionist folklore and contested heritage”.

Today’s class consists of:

Minimus (old as balls, former high society)

Skids (the best at everything)

Brainstorm (literal genius)

Perceptor (slightly-less-literal genius)

Nautica (jack-of-all-trades brainiac and bibliophile)

Crosscut (former senator, current playwright, therefore probably has at least some sort of degree)

Nightbeat (nosy as fuck, loves to figure shit out)

Hound (former Primal Vanguard)

Thunderclash (perfect student, researcher, friend, confidante, and maybe even lover)

Grapple (not much to say here, other than he’s fucking jacked in IDW)

Xaaron (chief legal advisor for the Autobots)

And Riptide (created during the war and therefore has the least connection to Cybertron's folklore, canonically not a good test-taker)

Poor Riptide's grades don’t stand a snowball's chance in hell against his peers', but good on him for sticking with the classes regardless.

This essay was assigned to help students establish context for the Knights within a world where they have not existed for millions of years, having disappeared since they embarked on their quest to Cyberutopia; a world where information creep, the slow degradation of memory as time passes, has made them into mythological figures. Megatron posits that the only thing we really know about the Knights is that they failed to do what they set out to do, as the universe is not a peaceful place, himself arguably being exhibit A of that failure. Still, he intends to use this course to help the Lost Light’s crew understand the Knights to the best of their current, modernity-biased ability, prior to potentially meeting them. Considering that the Knights will be deciding Megatron’s fate, perhaps this is also for him to grapple with understanding his own end.

Anyway, let’s look at a plot device.

The last time we saw this symbol was during issue #46, both drawn by Grimlock on his walls, paired with the words “prepare confront repel”, and then on some mysterious fellows who were working with Krok’s nasty little friend Demus and someone called "The Grand Architect". However, the first time we saw it was with Skids in #21, after he went through Tyrest’s space bridge and talked to a giant technicolor ball of light.

Seeing this image kickstarts Skids’s memory, enough so that he interrupts class over it. Nautica has also seen this symbol, at an exhibit on Troja Major (a planet that Roberts will use as a dumping ground for many plot points in the sequel series to MTMTE) where it was claimed to be some sort of coat of arms. Thunderclash also knows this symbol, having seen it with his beautiful mind and kind heart in his visions, the same visions that were leading him to the Knights and allowing him to create a map to Cyberutopia. Nautica asks Skids to write out the symbol that he “heard” phonetically into her space phone, in a move that will prove HIGHLY useful later on. Perceptor adds in his two cents, showing off that he’s wearing the “feminine” nose-type today, stating that he had talked to one of the Circle of Light members back in Season 1, who had theorized that the Knights of Cybertron was either originally made up of OR broke down into clans, and that the symbol/map Rodimus and Thunderclash were drawing is merely connected to part of the Knights, and that there could be others floating around.

Nightbeat thinks that all this brainstorming (which hasn’t involved Brainstorm, oddly enough) is super cool and great, showing off his anime thumb in approval. When Minimus tries to give Megatron props for bringing everyone together to figure this out, he finds that Megatron is having some troubles, hunched over his podium as far as his fucked up old man toy articulation will allow. When Minimus approaches to see what’s wrong, he gets punched clear across the room for his troubles. Then this happens:

Look, I don’t care if 99.9% of the Cybertronian population can reclaim, you shouldn’t just limp your wrist at your first officer in the middle of class.

No, what Megatron is actually doing is pointing the fusion cannon he doesn’t have anymore, but had attached to his arm for roughly 4 million years, directly at Minimus’s tiny little skull. Quickly coming back to himself, Megatron is both horrified and mortified by what he’s done, offering nothing more but a quick apology before he dismisses the class and bolts, not even helping Minimus off of the floor.

The following day, Velocity’s paying a visit to Megatron’s room, which is STILL as barren as the most dire of single male living spaces. Velocity’s here because Megatron missed his appointment yesterday, after whatever happened in the classroom. Megatron reminds her that the weekly appointment is for him receiving his ration of “fool’s energon” which is meant to keep him in a weakened state, which arguably shouldn’t make it medicine in the traditional sense. Velocity reminds him that he nearly knocked Minimus Ambus’s (yeah, she uses his full name, guess she’s not been around long enough to get “just Minimus” privileges) block off, and that if Megatron had been at full strength, we might be dealing with a murder situation instead.

Though Minimus IS a load bearer, who regularly slings around a body three times his size, on top of weapons, so maybe not. Also, there’s an even smaller guy inside the first mustached guy, so honestly it’d probably be fine.

Does Velocity even know about the irreducible Minimus? Is that in his medical history? Does she even know that Ultra Magnus and Minimus Ambus are the same person? Because Megatron didn’t even know until they found that corpse on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, and Magnus was his lawyer for the trial as well as being his SIC. Really, what are the legal ramifications of Minimus having assumed the identity of a dead man, now that Tyrest isn’t there to keep up the charade and the secret is a bit more open? Does Minimus have legal claim to Magnus’s identity, or at least ownership of the armor? Can Minimus lay claim to any property he purchased as Magnus, or that the previous Magnuses had purchased prior to their deaths? Was Minimus legally declared dead prior to undertaking the role of Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, if only to make things easier in terms of paperwork? Can Minimus sign off on things, and if so, does he use his own signature, or Magnus’s? If he signed something as Magnus, would any contract bearing it be rendered temporarily void whenever he’s not wearing his work pants? How much of Minimus’s existence makes him cry late into the night with how legally dubious it is? Does Delta Magnus know about Ultra Magnus being a skin suit? I feel like we don’t focus on how fucked up this whole situation is nearly enough.

Anyway, Velocity asks after Megatron’s medicine, probably because First Aid’s medical note-taking skills often get usurped by his need to write SpringerxReader fanfiction. She mentions that what they’ve been feeding Megatron over the last year have some side effects, which Megatron seems surprised by. Considering he’s felt sickly and crampy this whole time, the side effects are likely meant to be the intent of the medication.

Velocity then takes a gander at the dents Megatron put into his head when he had his little freakout, stating that “chemo-sedatives” can change one’s whole personality in extreme cases, as well as increased stress levels, as Megatron admits that the reason he crushed his head with his hands is that he heard voices screaming. However, Megatron doesn’t think stress caused such a thing.

To recap how the last year has gone for Megatron: he was forced to renounce the cause he had led for the last 4 million years, became co-captain of a fucking Carnival cruise ship, had 95% of his crew disappear from reality, found a bunch of corpses, got slapped in the face by Soundwave’s dad, had to lie to Rewind’s face to make him okay with killing himself so that everyone else might live, got shot as an infant, gaining anywhere from three-to-five fathers as a result, visited the most passive-aggressive garden in the galaxy, got stabbed in the chest and brained with a flat-screen television and then had to apologize for it, and was non-consensually hugged by a swarm of flesh-eating insects parading around in his SIC’s skin suit.

Velocity gets a call on her smart watch, Swerve on the other end demanding her presence at the medibay, seeing as she’s the only doctor on the ship now, and there are multiple people having a crisis.

Smash cut to Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron standing on the bridge, their colors looking super fucked up and light bloomed out, because this is a 40-page issue with a shit-ton of detail and characters, so we’ve got three colorists, two artists, and an extra inker on for this one. They’re meeting with Rodimus, whose fingers have shrunk down to the size of shoestring potato fries, because Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron heard some sort of awful noise in their brains at the exact same time. Chromedome is here to support his husband, because he loves him so, so much, kissy-noise kissy-noise. Cyclonus is here mainly to clarify that he’s a badass who no one has ever heard cry, because emotional vulnerability and expressing pain are for pussies, unless you’re doing it by way of self-harming directly onto your face meat.

Only Tailgate and Rewind actually admit to what they heard, Tailgate hearing Cyclonus berate him for falling for Getaway’s tricks and Rewind hearing Dominus berate him for not doing enough to find him. I’d imagine both Rung and Swerve were hearing things relating to their professionalism, given that Rung fucking sucks at his job, and Swerve’s gonna fry the moment Ten gets a union sorted out. Megatron, is well, Megatron, so there’s a litany of awful things that he could have heard.

Rodimus has Blaster reveal that the ship received a signal at the exact same time that these people had their little brain event. Brainstorm hypothesizes that what happened was some sort of psychological assault, perhaps of Galactic Council origin, as a means of testing a new brain weapon. Magnus, who has been up on an upper level with a clipboard up to this point, notes that they could trace the signal. Mainframe informs him that they have, but the origin doesn’t seem to correspond to any known location in the navigation, and they’d have to physically go there to see what’s up. Which isn’t sketchy in the slightest.

Rodimus wants to load up on his big, beautiful Rodpod with everyone, so they can find who did this and make them stop. When Magnus questions if this is a wise course of action, Rodimus uses American grammar to trip up Magnus’s British-based spellcheck, so he gets to do whatever he wants. This is a trick he’s picked up since Drift left, as the old game of “pitting my people-pleaser hippy dippy boytoy and my no-nonsense stick-up-the-ass sentient rulebook against one another, so whatever I wanted to do from the start can seem like a pleasantly centralized option” doesn’t work very well when you replace the boytoy with a grumpy old man who tried to murder everything with a heartbeat.

Velocity wants to join the trip alongside Team Rodimus, but Mainframe has his reservations. I don’t blame him, considering she is, again, the only medical doctor currently on board this ship. He suggests she take along some personal protection, just in case.

…I mean, he’ll definitely make sure any bad guys who come her way will die horribly, if nothing else. Also, apparently the Rodpod's artificial gravity goes all the way around.

Nautica’s spent the last few weeks tricking out the Rodpod with a fancy schmancy new teleport drive, because Rodimus was annoying her to the point where if she didn’t give him what he was moaning about she might have had to kill him. Megatron is hesitant to use the drive, but after being informed that there are safety perimeters in place that’ll keep the ol’ Rodimus Podimus from teleporting inside a asteroid or whatever, he pulls the level and they end up in the dark.

No, not space dark, don’t be funny. That’s my job, and they don’t pay me for it, which should tell you how dire the situation is. This is a special sort of dark. The sort of dark that leads to panic and lethal levels of quipping. Rodimus cuts the lights on, but it does very little to offset the absolutely suffocating darkness outside. Rewind notes that there aren’t any stars, and Tailgate admits that he doesn’t know how space works. That’s alright Tailgate, neither do any of the people who draw or color this comic. You’re amongst (created by?) friends here.

The scanners reveal that there’s something 3000 miles in front of them. And behind them. And to the left, to the right, 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight— that is to say, they’re surrounded by something the size of a planet. After disabling the safety protocols on the Rodimus Podimus, the gang find themselves on the surface of Necroworld, where the Necrobot Censere lives and operates his many plinths to the living and dead. Megatron isn’t exactly thrilled to be back here. Nightbeat on the other hand, is overdosing on mystery, and he couldn’t be happier. Nobody’s sure what the fuck is going on. There’s no time to theorize, however, as half the gang just got blown sky high.

Everyone books it back to the Rodpod to escape the dozen attack craft coming after them, but there’s more trouble here— the teleport drive is dead. Which is weird, because they should have had enough juice to get to and from their little trip. When Rodimus tries to contact the Lost Light, there’s no response. They’re not responding. Megatron tells him that those are two different things, mirroring the same thing Optimus said about trying to contact the Lost Light after he and Jetfire viewed the will tapes. Everyone else is busy trying to figure out who the hell could be firing on them, all of them roughly coming to the same conclusion that Cybertronians as a whole aren’t terribly well liked, and the Lost Lighters have made a bit of a name (derogatory) for themselves, since they insulted the Galactic Council, caused the end of the 16-million year Stentarian war, and have ruined at least one bar with physical violence over home movies.

Rodimus tells Megatron to park the Rodpod at the Necrobot’s citadel, just in time for a missile to hit the ass-end of the shuttle, blowing off Magnus’s arm, shredding off roughly half of Nautica’s face, and giving Cyclonus an excuse to hold Tailgate in his arms. Everyone bolts to get inside, Nautica being carried by Skids so we can further solidify the straightest pairing in the series. Once they’re all inside, their attackers retreat, and we see where Censere’s gotten to in all this.

Let’s give him a hand, folks!

While Velocity looks over the body, Nightbeat deals with his personal Santa Claus being dead by way of trying to figure out what happened. Megatron, meanwhile, noticed that the craft that attacked them were of Decepticon design, and he tells Ravage to go check it out. Honestly, I doubt he was the only one to notice, given that all but three of the people on this trip were dealing with the Decepticons in some form or fashion all throughout the war, and could therefore identify the make of the crafts, if not the model, so I’m not sure what the deal is with this secrecy.

Brainstorm is brought over to Nightbeat to help solve this mystery, and he promptly identifies that some of Censere’s equipment is very similar to the stuff Tyrest used for the Aequitas trials, likely used to figure out what sparkflowers to plant where. Rewind, having popped his sparkliest nipple pasties on, because he hates Censere and wants to get glitter all over his house, asks the boys to scootch on over so he can try to call the Lost Light. Nightbeat thinks that Censere tried to sabotage a signal someone else had sent in an attempt to lure Team Rodimus (and friends) to the planet, and that resulted in the brain attack that had happened earlier in the day. Unfortunately, Censere didn’t spend any time with Rodimus the last time the Lost Light visited, so he didn’t get a taste of the ridiculous way Rodimus likes to live his life, and why the psychic attack wouldn’t work.

Rewind gets the phone working, calling Rodimus over to get on the horn. Magnus stands in the background, showing off his grievous amputation. After a bit of fiddling with the settings on their end, the Lost Light makes official contact with Team Rodimus.

Getaway, last we saw him, was very much in prison, but Rodimus isn’t going to focus on that niggling little detail right now, as he asks for the Lost Light to swing by to pick up the team so they don’t all die. Getaway sort of DOES want to focus on that detail, however, as he very much didn’t appreciate being fetish fuel throughout the holiday season, and, despite his name, didn’t actually escape that setup. No, Getaway had help.

Man, guess Megatron should’ve reconsidered failing Riptide on his essay.

Speaking of Megatron, he walks up about now to see what all the hubbub’s about. Rodimus, looking like he’s about to cry, realizes that Mainframe lied to them about not being able to track the signal. Getaway gives him points for getting that right, but really, he wants to drive home the point that the entirety of the crew wanted Megatron’s little pals off the ship. And that’s what it’s really about, at the end of the day. Getaway hates that high command gave Megatron a party cruise to live out his last days on, last days that might not even happen, with the track record of this goddamned quest. He’s sick of Rodimus and pals acting like this whole arrangement isn’t an affront to every single life that’s been snuffed out because of Megatron’s actions.

Everyone other than Whirl seems pretty bummed out by these accusations. Swerve pipes up, enraged that he’s been doomed to die alongside everyone else— he doesn’t even LIKE Megatron. Getaway reveals that at some point or another, he and Atomizer (the interior designer turned bowman, you’ll recall) approached every single crew member and asked if they thought Megatron deserved to have a second chance and also, completely unrelated, but what would you do in the event of a coup? Anyone who didn’t provide a desirable answer got visited by the nudge gun fairy— that gun that can fire thought into your brain, or just erase memories if fired dry. The collection of headaches main cast have been experiencing over the last several issues? The side effect of being shot. Skids especially does not like this reveal.

Of course, Getaway isn’t just upset with Megatron’s leadership— he’s also mad as hell what’s supposed to be a trip to find their ancestors, who will guide them back onto the straight and narrow, has, in actuality, been Rodimus’s midlife crisis road trip. Getaway wasn’t even here for Rodimus and Drift’s ass-slapping contests and insulting galactic officials who want the Cybertronians dead, but he didn’t need to be. He took one look at the Rodpod and decided he needed to kill Rodimus right then and there.

Rodimus, at this point, remembers the list Atomizer had offered him back during the trial. Magnus, biting his lip at the idea of a list existing, asks what that’s all about, and Rodimus explains. Getaway really was hoping that Rodimus would take the bait, so he could’ve blackmailed Rodimus into stepping down and letting literally anyone else take over. Probably Magnus, at that point in the timeline, given that he hadn’t gotten buddy-buddy with Megatron yet. Unless Getaway considers acting as someone’s lawyer under order of the space pope as being too close to an individual.

Getaway decides that this conversation has reached its natural conclusion, as he’s got questing to get done, and it should be moving at a pretty even clip now, since he’s excised all the distractions. Rodimus swears to come after him, but Getaway doubts it’ll happen, given what’s happening next.

While this debacle has been happening, Ravage has been busy searching a crash site, trying to uncover the identity of who the hell’s decided to attack them. Tarn commits a microagression at him, before firing his twin fusion cannons.

The call ends, Getaway cutting off the comm to all contact.

Ravage shows back up at this point, to give everyone the bad news.

Nightbeat, honey, the tragedy is in the opposite direction.

Now, that’s technically the finale of the main story, but there’s a little bonus comic attached to the end, acting as a sort of sideways epilogue to hint at what Getaway and his merry band of mutineers will be getting up to, since we aren’t seeing them again for a bit.

Our little backup strip begins right before the original launch of the Lost Light, where we see some guys we haven’t seen since the 2012 Annual issue. Shock and Ore wander around what will one day become Swerve’s, Shock convinced that this ship is actually the ship they lost 5 million years prior, the Unitrex-1. Ore isn’t so sure, but as the readers, we saw the exact moment that Unitrex-1 disappeared in issue #38, after Rodimus forgot to wash his hands while putting the quantum engine together. Shock, wanting to prove that he’s right, fumbles around in the dark, looking for the graffiti he carved into the underside of a table. Ore gets a call on his space Blackberry while he’s doing this, and we finally get the other half of that call Prowl made in issue #1, after he failed to get Chromedome to stay on Cybertron. The Duobots have 20 minutes to get Overlord’s massive, lippy ass on the ship. Knowing that that isn’t a ton of time, the two quickly book it out of the bar, leaving the spectral form of Skids to look really bummed out.

Later, at Swerve’s grand (secret) opening, we see some more old faces.

Whoa now, Drift, you’re not supposed to be back until next issue!

Pipes thinks he’s been cursed to not have friends, since Hubcap is still at his dead-end job with the Wreckers, and Riptide was too busy being in a coma to come say goodbye. How rude!

Drift doesn’t seem to particularly want Pipes around more than necessary, pushing him to be friends with Rewind, who he describes as having kind eyes. Whether Drift is doing this to keep Pipes safe from overhearing any Overlord-related secrets, keeping his ass-slapping and sexually-tense sword training time with Rodimus safe, or just because he finds Pipes to be mildly annoying isn’t clear. Pipes, however, is looking for more than friendship— he’s looking to bone down.

Pipes’s ideal partner is wide as they are tall, with tits to match and at least one alt-mode that he can use as a yacht. Drift tells him he can introduce him to Tailgate, though something tells me Pipes isn’t really Tailgate’s type, given that he can actually say what he means and doesn’t have some fucked-up facial situation.

It’s really too bad that Pipes died, because I bet he would have loved Nautica, and he would have REALLY loved Nickel.

Later still, we see all of our doctors together— even Ambulon is there! In one piece, even! Ambulon wants to tell First Aid something, and First Aid automatically tries to make it a cosmetic thing, because of COURSE Ambulon would be insecure about his bad skin, and what he really needs is a better cleanser. What Ambulon actually wants to talk about, though, is his alt mode, and the fact that the puns involved with being part of a Combiner make him want to die. First Aid understands, but Swerve, known menace to society, might not be so compassionate, as he throws a grenade into the back of Ambulon’s head, triggering his transformation. Ambulon is mortified, and Swerve does the thing that Ambulon literally just said he hates. First Aid continues to rip flakes of paint off of Ambulon, as the specter of Velocity watches, looking pretty bummed about the fact that she never got to be part of banter like this.

Later on than that, Rewind and a wheelchair-bound Rung are in the currently-empty Swerve’s, as Rewind calls Chromedome to gather up one of the groups for those storytelling circles Rewind organized to try to fix Rung’s brain. He hangs up, then tells Rung that once his brain works again, they’re going to have a goddamned chat about Dominus Ambus, which is only mildly hampered in its threat by the fact that Rewind standing is barely the same height as Rung sitting down.

Rewind then gets to work writing out the story map for when the “Shadowplay” group gets there, as the specter of Chromedome reaches out longingly for the dead version of his husband. He laments that this Rewind died without closure, but the ghostly specter of Rung reminds him that there are rules to this, and they have to leave now. Not sure why Rung’s here to watch himself be threatened by Pipsqueak McGee. Is he actually doing his job for once, helping guide someone through their grief? I doubt it, since Chromedome isn’t a hottie bo-body like Skids, and his problems haven’t (directly, at least) caused the sort of trouble that make entire star systems hate you like Megatron.

Later, during the Overlord disaster, Perceptor sprints into Swerve’s, shouting for a medic, as the rest of the battered and beaten watch. Hoist, himself hooked up to the wall by some sort of cable, while wearing his extra-special Rodimus Star, offers to help, though he’s technically an engineer, and whatever he’s gonna do probably won’t have any consideration for the soul or ability to feel pain. Perceptor was using Tripodeca— sweet, beloved, friend to all, who was the star of the post-Overlord mass funeral Tripodeca— as a, uh, tripod for his rifle, when Overlord probably noticed that the ol’ science sniper looked sort of familiar and did a lil’ grabbing with his big nasty hands. Hoist asks if Perceptor is going to stop Overlord, and considering how things went the last time Overlord was the star of the show, I doubt Perceptor thought he was gonna get lucky twice in terms of survival, especially when Overlord is riGHT BEHIND HIM OH GOD LORDY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH

How Perceptor survived this isn't clear, but we know he did, as he continued to show up in the story past issue #15 in a decidedly alive, non-paste form. His specter watches this scene unfold, expression unreadable.

Post-Luna 1, Swerve stands in his ruined bar dejectedly, when he realizes that quite a few people have shown up to help him clean up the mess, as long as he promises to reward their hard work with reopening once it’s done. As everyone works to get things back in order, Swerve tells them to keep an eye out for a non-trashed Legislator that he could use as a bouncer, once he fucks around with its head enough to make it do what he wants. Ten’s specter watches as his shitty boss and arguable father is gifted the body that would become him, making a note to get his union going with a bit more urgency.

Later, on the day of the “Fuck Off Megatron 2-for-1 Drink Deal”, Crosscut leads Riptide, Mirage, and Nautica on a tour of the ship. Mirage notes that Swerve’s is a bit of a dive, not suited to his refined tastes in the slightest. In a booth, Getaway and Atomizer have boxed Mainframe in on either side to have a little chat. Swerve and Bluestreak talk television, Bluestreak making a little jab at MTMTE’s second season not being quite as well-received by fans as the first. Over at the bar, Highbrow and Perceptor talk about Quark, while Brainstorm watches while having his briefcase, which he is NOT supposed to have in here.

Crosscut goes on about this bar being where all things happen and where bittersweet is the most often-felt emotion, then calls Trailcutter/blazer an alcoholic as he dances on the ceiling. The specters of just about everyone on the ship watch their fallen friend, enjoying the moment and missing him terribly, as Perceptor brings them back to the here and now of the story, which turns out to be just after the holiday special, judging by the Christmas lights.

Minimus asks if this is safe, and Perceptor says that it is, as nobody can actually interact with the past, because Brainstorm is the only one who’s ever actually perfected that tech, not that this isn’t his fault either. It turns out that when you try to fly against the stream of time as it naturally occurs, you tear a few thousand itty bitty holes on the way to perfecting the process. Perceptor’s found a way to let others view the past, at least for a little while. Minimus is fine with it, as long as everyone continues to behave, and it seems like they are, as everyone mingles in Swerve’s.

The two of them sit down, Megatron handing Minimus what I’m sure is a mocktail, and Perceptor explains that while the window into the past is closing for now, it may open back up in the future. When Rodimus asks when that might be, he then immediately decides that he doesn’t want to know, instead wanting to have a fun little surprise for later. They don’t get very many of those, fun surprises.

As everyone toasts to the dead and to future adventures, the specter of Getaway watches on, smug as hell.

That’s the end of “No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases” but that is STILL not the end of the issue! It never ends, this thing! Because the number 50 is very big and impressive, obviously this is a double-sized spectacular, and has to cap off with a note from the man himself— James Roberts.

And then after that we get a new notes from fans, but this is already obscenely long and I think I can show you the crux of what they’re all saying right here: MTMTE (2012) is fucking good. It’s a good series. Make your goddamn family, friends, coworkers, librarians, and goldfish read it. Share it with people you’ve never met. Get a long-term personal project out of it. Get long-term friends out of it. Get a long-term romantic partner out of it. If I can do it, so can you!

[arceespinkgun]

Thoughts on Rung/Skids

I realized that I've never actually explained anything about why I ship Rung/Skids, and that it's not a ship I see discussed often... and it must be kind of weird to see I ship it given that I'm not even a MTMTE/LL fan. In the same vein as that one post I made where I said I personally felt like an interesting and natural couple would probably have been Tailgate/Swerve in MTMTE/LL, I want to talk about this relationship.

I've mentioned before that when it comes to many different things about the series, when I read it as it was coming out I misinterpreted a lot of elements. Somehow, I thought that Rung/Skids was a canon romance, or at the very least that Rung having romantic feelings for Skids was canon! There's an issue of MTMTE where Ratchet tells Skids he should spend more time with Rung and Skids brings Rung a drink after this, and I thought this was like a date...? When it became clear that Skids had interest in Nautica, I wasn't sure what to make of that at the time. I thought maybe he just liked both of them in different ways.

But I also found the relationship between Rung and Skids in general to be unsettling and thought Rung might even be a predator given that Skids is a character who clearly needed mental help and Rung was the ship's therapist. Since the issues in which Rung ends up quitting his job were also the only time we saw Skids in therapy with him and depicted Froid taunting Rung about his connection with Skids and targeting him, I thought all of these themes were intentional. Especially since Skids's guilt and suicidality began increasing after that point. And despite how repulsive I found the connection between Skids and Rung at the time the series was coming out, as it went on and those characters went through some of the worst things possible, I also thought that nobody deserves to go through what they did.

Before Rung committed suicide in Lost Light, I thought the fact that he tells famously-married Chromedome and Rewind (who had also struggled with suicidality) to forgive themselves, then steps into his office sad and alone, was implying that Rung blamed himself for things including not being present for Skids's suicide... especially given that right before Rung kills himself, he thinks back to the time Skids first saved him.

Time passed, I eventually realized through seeing things James Roberts said and that fans said that I was wrong, these characters weren't intended to be romantically involved. I saw that JRo said in an interview that he didn't think Rung saw people in a romantic way.

When I ship characters it's in all kinds of ways. While personally I do ship these two romantically what's really important to me is just highlighting the significance of their bond.

Years later, now that I've reread MTMTE/LL again, I see things a bit differently and actually ended up shipping the characters. Now, I feel like JRo just didn't comprehend therapists or their jobs very well and wasn't prepared to write about these subjects effectively. For example, ethically-minded Ultra Magnus (a character Rung specifically wanted to see in sessions) saw nothing odd about going drinking with Rung, Skids, Whirl who was another patient of Rung's etc. at the very beginning. Rung jokes about his nemesis being people who don't know the difference between psychiatry and psychotherapy... but that's an error JRo makes himself later on. I see Froid as a very flat, not particularly insightful commentary on therapists, if he even is that. I could go on and on. This combined with ableist themes in MTMTE/LL made me reassess Rung and appreciate him more as just a character with a fun personality, given that the story just isn't well-written or thought-out enough for me to critically engage with his questionable behavior.

I think what I ended up liking about the dynamic between these characters this time around were two things: how natural their relationship feels, and the themes it engages with. When it comes to the former, we see Skids and Rung meet very early on, and the development of their friendship is paced very naturally. Rung is the one who explains to Skids what the Lost Light's mission is, Skids saves Rung, visits Rung in the medbay, rouses him from a coma, they go on vacation together... I could go on and on. One issue I have with MTMTE/LL is that sometimes plot threads or relationships go without followup or development for ages, or it feels like the story is focusing on the wrong things and is paced poorly. But when it comes to these characters, everything is paced well when it comes to the two of them becoming closer over time. I never felt like there were huge gaps in seeing them interact or anything like that, and when Skids dies, Rung's grief isn't glossed over (unlike the grief of other characters, but this isn't supposed to be a post about bad writing so lol). Their dynamic was also believable and fun and I could easily picture their conversations, but didn't have to take a lot of time to imagine them because they are shown talking to each other.

Then on the thematic side... there is a lot going on that could be very moving. Both of these characters suffered amnesia. Both suffered immense guilt. They both commit suicide. They're part of the same friend group. One of the only things Rung remembered from being in a coma was Skids smiling at him. Skids basically Sleeping Beauty'd Rung... by annoying him awake lol Rung is often treated like an unmemorable person, but Skids has a special super-memorization ability and also always remembers Rung and helps him. He even defended him to Getaway once. Skids used to be religious but lost his faith because of the terrible things Primus appeared to allow... and Rung actually is Primus, cares for Skids, but also doesn't necessarily have the ability to help others the way he so desperately wants to. But Skids died before Rung remembered who he was, so when Skids was alive, he cared for Rung as he is and never learned this about him, which is bittersweet. Even more tragic in a way, Rung's most desperate wish was to be remembered but ended up being forgotten... but Skids died before he could ever forget him. I think it's telling that before killing himself, Rung didn't flash back to his first meeting with Skids, he instead flashed back to the first time he was remembered by him. And the image of Skids pulling him up into a vent is very much a "together in death" sort of moment. Oh, also, in the alternate, Functionist Universe, Rung only produced photonic crystals after two million years of torture. But in the main timeline, he starts producing them after mourning Skids's death!!!

There's also this panel, which was drawn this way because as a relic of a plotline in which Skids was pining for Nautica, but I didn't know that until recently. I thought it was meant to indicate that Skids already knew he was going to commit suicide at the first opportunity.

I think something that stands out about them to me and encapsulates their relationship is the moment where Skids travels into the consciousness of Adaptus. Skids has no context to know what is actually happening, so from his perspective this could have been an amazing new world/reality and a fascinating or potentially transcendent experience (that's certainly how other characters react when studying it later). But then Skids runs back out without hesitation as soon as Rung calls out for his help.

TL;DR I don't really have a conclusion, I guess I just find them to be a really obvious ship, think a lot of their interactions were compelling in canon, and I think more should have been done to address a lot of the interesting themes their relationship brought up. I don't think I'm the right person to really engage with a lot of this, but felt I ought to share my thoughts with the fandom anyway. Most of all, I think Nautica and Rung talking about their shared grief would have been very interesting, and is something I'm surprised hasn't been done in fandom more often. I'm also kind of surprised that other what-if scenarios like what Skids would have made of Rung being Primus I also don't see explored much.

[novafire-is-thinking]

Round Two is ready!

The Results Spreadsheet

It is recommended that you vote on ALL of the matches, but it’s not required. If you don’t know who someone is, TFwiki is your best friend. Or you can just vote based on vibe. That works too.

The fastest way to vote on all of the matches is to click the ‘robot husband poll’ tag on this post and go through them from there. If you’re just looking for specific matches, carry on. This post is for you.

This round will run for 24 hours. I will post round three the following day (Tuesday) unless a tiebreaker is needed.

For current and future followers who want to be notified when poll updates and new rounds go live, don’t worry about getting spammed with my non-poll post and reblog notifications if you have alerts on. I found a way around it.

Cyclonus vs. Dominus Ambus ✧ Censere vs. Megatron

Rung vs. Predaking ✧ Whirl vs. Tracks

Meteorfire vs. Alpha Trion ✧ Blurr vs. Misfire

Dinobot vs. Ratchet ✧ Rodimus Prime vs. Cheetor

Star Saber vs. Smokescreen ✧ Heatwave vs. Hardshell

Wasp vs. Chase ✧ Knockout vs. Powerglide

Optimus Primal vs. Drift ✧ Beachcomber vs. Rampage

Fireflight vs. Quickstrike ✧ Breakdown vs. Ten

Snarl vs. Shockwave ✧ Cosmos vs. Crankcase

Bluestreak vs. Skids ✧ Ambulon vs. Dreadwing

Optimus Prime vs. Soundwave ✧ Metroplex vs. Sideswipe

Depth Charge vs. Ultra Magnus ✧ Rattrap vs. Starscream

Rewind vs. Hot Shot ✧ Wheeljack vs. Thunderclash

Astrotrain vs. Blaster ✧ Fulcrum vs. Blitzwing

First Aid vs. Perceptor ✧ Bumblebee vs. Chromedome

Tailgate vs. Jazz ✧ Prowl vs. Swerve

Springer vs. Skyfire ✧ Spinister vs. Bulkhead

Seaspray vs. Runamuck ✧ Tarantulas vs. Rhinox

Thundercracker vs. Fortress Maximus

Impactor vs. Mixmaster ✧ Brainstorm vs. Nightbeat

Hoist vs. Drag Strip ✧ Sky-Byte vs. Swindle

[littlelightbolt]

Finding Prowl - Chapter Five: Nemo

[55 cycles into capture]

Mabye, Primus had answered his call. The baby's fever broke in the evening, just as the crowds started to dwindle and the skeleton crew remained. The overhead lights had dimmed, signalling night-time in the above world. The worst was over but they weren't out of the blue yet. Muscles atrophied from malnutrition and sickness, the little one was still too weak to move on their own. Being cybertronian, the dim was no bother on their vision but it was still a trek from their cove to the surface of their tank to breach. Prowl had to use his body as a buoy to float the little one as they took small gulping breathes.

In between the surfacing intervals, Prowl was all but left to his thoughts, gazing aimlessly at the other mers outside his glided cage. To recharge now would only invite nightmares, an act that could potentially rob the little one of their recharge. So Prowl opted to settle in for a long night. It wasn't like he hadn't done so before. He simmered in the surrealness of his situation. The little life now here with him. Tired, his mind ebbed and rose with the cries of the humpback mer. There would be no singing for him tonight as thoughts came from all new directions. They drowned him.

'Where were their mother now? What had happened to them? Captured? Killed? What of their pod? How long had the baby been alone for? What had they been witness to?

His ATS concluded that the sparkling would most likely be from one of the small nomadic neutral pods originating around the northern hemisphere. One of many remaining neutrals that hadn't left the planet in time before the collision. War-ravaged Cybertron had been a wasteland. If there was one good thing to come out of the planetary collision millions of years ago, it was the new fuel source it provided. Earth-Cybertron was an abundant resource of which all mecha took their fill. Sparklings while still not common were finally not a rarity to their dwindling race outside of the major factions.

As an autobot and as SIC, Prowl had always been preoccupied. The wars with the Decepticons, dealing with outside operations [the Wreckers], trying to contact what remains of their race beyond the stars and even that one occasion the Quintessons had crashed in wanting to enslave them. He had been at the forefront of those operations. Post war, it had narrowed down to evading humans and keeping the peace on Cybertron. Post war, childcare had never been one of his priorities, nor an option he thought to pursue. He did not have a romantic partner nor any time to invest in one. J....The terror twins and Hot Rod were child enough for him. To be honest, he had never seen a sparkling up until Chromedome and Rewind first introduced their sparkling to the colony and hadn't that done a number on his spark.

Caught in the memory, the words of Ultra Magnus washed over him. "- I think your the loneliest mech I've ever met."

In his tank, he looked over himself. Scars and healing flesh. A shattered mind. He could barely take care of himself most days, how can he take care of a sparkling? Could they even eat solid foods yet?

When he had fed the sparkling kelp, a quick look at the sparkling's intake showed they only had two sparkling teeth jutting out of their top gum. From their size, Prowl assumed the sparkling was more toddler than infant. If the little one hadn't been weaned, he would have to be soon. Milk was not a worry at least. All cybertronians were intersex, but for the majority of cybertronians carrier coding had to be activated by an actual kindling. Being initially a public service servant, Prowl was made with the standard carrier protocols buried in place for the event such as these. Prowl could already feel the changes within him. A good sort of soreness to accompany the many aches. At the most he estimated that it would take at least until the morning for his pouches to fill.

Prowl didn't know how to feel about that. He will experience his first feeding before his first kindling, alone. A funnily sad thought that this was the first milestone that Prowl would share with a little one.

A thought struck him then, a designation. He didn't know the little ones' designation. In the day's events, Prowl hadn't even thought to try and ask for one. 'Could the little one even speak?' Prowl mulled it over looking down sparkling tightly clutching his chest in sleep. Their skin was still slightly flushed, eyes furrowed in their sleep. Mabye, they weren't really of a mind to tell him a designation anyway.

The remainder of the night was spent in silence, his ATS circling around his bare-bones escape plans, his current physical changes situation, the baby, and a designation to call them by. J..... Somewhere in between Prowl dropped off into a light doze.

The early morning arrived without much fanfare, the lights above returned to their usual blistering white. The human staff handover began. Splashing overhead roused Prowl from his rest. Food had arrived. Leaving the sparkling to their slumber, Prowl waited for the humans to back away before approaching the low ledge that served as their interaction platform.

Having been here long enough that rejecting food from them was in the past, Prowl had been a little surprised when the human workers had given him his usual ration of stale fish and a little bottle of milk beside it. Opening the bottle for a quick sniff made him gag. This milk was definitely NOT going into that sparkling's intake. Surely humans knew that much. It irritated Prowl that even with all their research and advancements, of knowing about his kinds general way of life, that they couldn't even synthesis the correct sustenance.

Incompetent fools.

He chucked the bottle back at the pair of handlers standing by the door and managed to hit the one with the badge "Spike W" in the head with it. The human squawked and turned back to glare at him. The absolute hate in their eyes gave Prowl a little satisfaction as he dove back down. He stopped at the entrance to his cove. A quick check revealed his pouches were ready to go, while not as pronounced as a femme's his chest seemed to have more curves to it already. He felt the heaviness in them. It was time. Awkwardly he reached out a hand, gently shaking the little one's shoulder. A couple of shakes made the little one release a little whine that almost made Prowl withdraw. Prowl pushed through it. The little one opened their bleary eyes to glare at him. They gave off a moody huff, curling up further to hide their face in the sand. It was kind of cute. A small smile graced Prowl's faceplate. Sass was a sign that the little was on the up and up in recovery. As new as the situation was to him, sass was a familiar attitude that Prowl could always handle.

The new code within him had settled well enough. It whispered that to recover, the little one needed to eat. Prowl followed along with it's directives, settling next to the sparkling before lifting them up gently into the crook of his arms. The new foreign programming guided his movements. The little one was only surprised by the slight jostle before settling into the new position. With steady hands he didn't know he possessed, he brought the little's intake to his chest and waited. To his relief the little one did as he had hoped, quickly latching on to suckle.

The sensation of something rushing out of him was WEIRD to say the least. Prowl shivered a little as the first drops escaped him. It tilted between being ticklish and soothing, he made sure to hold on well to the little one as he rode the sensations. The little one ate well. With one problem down with minimal resistance, Prowl felt a little lighter in his chest. Silently, Prowl congratulated himself on his achievement.

As the little one suckled, a little hand curled around one of his digits. Seeing and feeling the size difference between them made Prowl's mind stall. Not for the first time, the gravity of the situation seemed to crash over him, yet it felt like distant ocean waves. This sparkling was doing things to him. Things he had felt before in another different light, many vorns ago. It unnerved him a little how quickly he had come to care for the little one, in this cage of stale smells and dead sounds. He had never felt such feelings come on so quickly. Not with Chro....., not with Mesothulas, never with Sentinel. He couldn't remember a time where these feelings were returned in kind either. *Memories of that night, blurred and dizzy with J....... -* Outside his turbulent helm, the little ones' eyes met his, a bright cerulean blue that reminded Prowl of the sunlit surface of the Bering sea. *A certain visor in the sunlight came to mind.* So full, so whole, it was like the sparkling was looking within Prowl, into his spark.

The moment was broken when the sparkling unlatched from his pouch. They wriggle in his hold, as Prowl eased them onto his lap. They looked up at Prowl for a moment before patting their belly. "Pat?" Prowl felt elated, the sparkling could speak! That increased the probability of him being able to care for the sparkling tenfold. "Pat!" They repeated at him, more urgency in their voice. A small smile graced Prowl's faceplate, if the sparkling wanted to be patted who was Prowl to deny that. He began to rub their belly in a circular clockwise fashion patting gently as he went. The little one content went back to their nursing, soothed for now. Prowl moved to settle by the wall of the cove, body faced at an angle to the glass to look out at the growing crowd wandering the site while shielding the little one from view.

What would the others do if they could see him now. The terror twins would probably laughing their asses off. Many people would be loosing some lumpsum currency to smokescreen's betting pool. Prowl hadn't managed to sus out the most recent one but he was highly suspicious that his sex life was a hot topic/ running joke in action.

Optimus.....

What would J...... thin - k- .

Before he could spiral too deep into those thoughts, the sparkling unlatched a second time, pushing away from Prowl's chest. Looks like they had their fill for now. A few pats to the back made quick work of any trapped air in their system. Content and happy, the little one seemed energized enough to try and move out of his hold. With the little one now lucid, Prowl asked the burning question. "Little one, do you have a designation?"

The sparkling wordlessly looked up at him not quite getting his meaning. A questioning wirr came from their lips. Mentally Prowl sighed old speech habits died hard, perhaps he should refrain from using big words for now. "Do you have a name?" He gestured to himself. "My name is Prowl." "Prowl" he reiterated. "Pow" repeated the little one, smacking a little hand onto his chest.

Close enough Prowl figured. "

Yes, Prowl." He now gestured towards the little one, "Name?" The little one took a moment before quietly saying "Blue."

"Blue?" Prowl parroted, puzzled. Their carrier sure picked an odd choice of name for an orca mer. There really wasn't much blue to be had on this sparkling. "Blue!" the child repeated proudly, little hands now patting themself. Having answered the adult's question the little toddler saw fit to push off out of Prowl's hold. Weakly, they swam to the edge of the cove. Prowl watched on, vigilant as Blue fascinated himself with the starfish and shells littered around his cove. Little curious sounds came with every new discovery. It was a refreshing to hear, the vibration of it in the water a soothing reminder that he was no longer just his own. A quick look beyond a sand dune revealed the humans beyond. Blue recoiled like a shot, fear scented the water.

"Blue." Prowl called urgently, hoping to gain the little ones' attention to return. In response to his name, the little mer returned to his side. They snuggled into him, before revealing the item they had in hand. A little red starfish was presented. "Pow" "Pow, look!" exclaimed little Blue. "FisssH" he proclaimed proudly, chest puffed out and cheeks glowy.

Fear turned to joy. The sudden change in mood was like whiplash to Prowl.

Prowl couldn't help but laugh with mirth. "Starfish, Blue." "That is a starfish", he gently corrected. Taking the creature from their hands and placing it on the sand. "StaArfisH" Blue parroted, swimming around the little thing. With his unspent energy, Blue went out to the edge of the cove in search of more things to show "Pow", looking back occasionally to check that Prowl was still there watching him. It was comically affectionate. With each item shown to him, another starfish, a piece of kelp, an unfortunate small fish, affection slowly wrapped their tendrils around Prowl's spark.

It has been 55 cycles since he had any decent company, and despite the circumstance, he was glad to have Blue here with him.

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

Horray! This fic now has a name, and a new face.

Previous

Next

[mychlapci]

Oh god post lost light Chromedome should plug Rewind into his valve

He's safe and secure up there, they'll always be close together, it keeps their sex life alive, literally no downsides. His calipers don't even push Rewind out when he overloads on his conjunx, it's a perfect fit like he was meant to be there

Oohhuh I don't know how to feel about this, it's so sad and also so so very sexy. I'd like to think it's a good ending for them. Rewind gets to feel loved and safe inside of Chromedome's valve, and Chromedome knows his conjunx is with him at all times <3 He overloads many times a day, calipers hugging Rewind and lubricants gushing into his panels...

[periodbloodmanipulator]

Hello, everyone!!! My name is Mardi and I'm taking HEADCANNON requests!! (DON'T REQUEST ONE SHOTS)

I'm not making a masterlist. Just search for your tag. #jjk x reader or #transformers x reader

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

ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤

• I only write 'x reader' content. So please do not request ocs.

• All requests should specify if it's a gender-neutral reader or one of a specific gender/sex. If you do not specify the gender of the reader, I will just by default make the reader gender neutral.

• I'm okay with writing angst. Such as cutting, suicide, self harm, past abuse, ect. I'm a little bit iffy with cheating, because I feel as if most of the characters wouldn't cheat on you. But I'm perfectly fine with them helping you through a breakup.

• Please specify if you want a human or Cybertronian/Omnic/Curse reader. If you don't, I'll just make them a regular human. Or skip it.

• For each ask, I will write a minimum of up to 4 characters per ask.

• You can personalize a request, but DO NOT make it painfully obvious.

• Do not request oneshots. I will post oneshots simply whenever I feel like it. As of right now, I'll only take headcannons or questions about the characters.

• if I do not like your request, or if it makes me uncomfy, I have every right to deny your request and/or delete it.

𝕎𝕙𝕠 𝕀 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣

~Overwatch

• Mercy

• Reinhardt

• Mauga

• Reaper

• Ramattra

• Zenyatta

• Sombra

• Widowmaker

• Junkrat

• Dva

• Echo

• Mei

• Ashe

• Bastion (Platonic)

• Ana

~Bayverse

• Bumblebee

• Optimus

• Megatron

• Hot Rod

• Dino

• Jazz

• Sideswipe

~ ROTB:

• Optimus

• Mirage

• Niah Diaz

• Wheeljack

~ Transformers Prime

• Optimus

• Bumblebee

• Arcee

• Wheeljack

• Rachet (The literal girlboss)

• Bulkhead (platonic)

• Ultra Magnus

• Megatron

• Soundwave

• Starscream

• Shockwave

• Predaking

• Knockout

• Breakdown

• Dreadwing

• 5t3v3 + T0M + G4RR1

• Hardshell + Insecticons

• Arachnid

• Basically everyone. If I didn't name them, request anyways. I'll update later.

~ R.I.D 2015

• Bumblebee

• Jazz

• StrongArm

• Grimlock

• Soundwave

• Fixit

• Sideswipe

• Steeljaw

~ Transformers Animated (TFA)

• Bumblebee

• Rachet

• Bulkhead

• Blurr

• Prowl

• Jazz

• Longarm

• Megatron

• Starscream

• Blitzwing

• Lugnut

• Shockwave

• Blackarachnia

~ MTMTE

• Rodimus Prime

• Whirl

• Megatron

• Chromedome

• Rewind

• Poly!Chrome&Rewind

• Elita One (G1 AND Idw)

~ JJK

• Any and all characters. Except Mahito.

[noodleblade]

Can I ask for 17. noticing their individual quirks from the blossoming romance prompt list with Simpatico? <3

WHAT A COINCIDENCE THAT I STARTED REWRITING LIKE 3 HOURS BEFORE I SAY THE POST ABOUT YOUR BIRTHDAY!! Anyways, Happy Belated Birthday!!! Enjoy some simpatico nonsense:)

Ao3 Link Here

Perceptor narrowed his optics down at the pile of clutter before him. Clutter was a kind, professional, polite way of describing explosive havoc of disorder and chaos that made up the dimensions of Brainstorm’s desk. Disgusting was another word that came to mind. 

::How do you live like this?::  

::Oh please, let’s not exaggerate. It’s not that bad.:: came Brainstorm’s groan. 

It was not an exaggeration. If anything, it was an understatement. 

Perceptor’s internal processors had a difficult time distinguishing just what exactly he was looking at. The only way to actually piece through what was on the desk was to deconstruct it layer by layer. A cross-section analysis.

The bottom-most layer- the foundation, if you will -were dried dribbles of fuel intermingled with a noxious dusting of sentiment and dirt. One of Perceptor’s background scanners identified a cluster of granulated particles to be aged candied energon treat crumbs. An entire rust strick made the foundation brick, its sticky residue gluing it to the hard surface of the desk. Perceptor idly pondered if its removal would cause the entire system to fall apart. And while his internal protocols desperately would like the area cleaned, organized and sanitary, he was not willing to find out if his hypothesis was correct. 

Cemented to this foundational core layer was the secondary mantle layer. This, from what Perceptor could read, was a scattering of notes all in Brainstorm’s sloppy, near illegible scribble. Tattered napkin bits from Swerve’s and printed notices from Ultra Magnus acted as the canvas for dynamic invention designs, schematics and impossible (and implausible) equations with attached nonsensical theorems. Several datapads acted as structural weights. When flicked on, Perceptor wasn’t sure if he felt amusement, exasperation or a sickly, prickling bashfulness in seeing several of his academic research papers and studies riddled with extensive notes, doodles and elaborations from Brainstorm. 

It didn’t take away from the utter disaster that was Brainstorm’s work space but it did soften the blow. Still, Perceptor would prefer if his research wasn’t adding to the disgusting catastrophe that made up Brainstorm’s desk. Perhaps a bookshelf or three would greatly benefit organization.

Level three- the crust -was as troublesome as the other two layers of clutter, if not more prone to disaster by their fragile and incongruous shapes. Trinkets , Brainstorm affectionately called them. Garbage , Perceptor was more keen on describing. In truth, they probably served best as paperweights, however haphazardly placed they were. 

The sentimentality was not missed on Perceptor and a part of him could even find the collection charming. Endearing. 

Perceptor had bared witness to the slow accumulation over the course of the Lost Light’s journey but had never really taken the time to truly examine them. Now he did, his optics scanning over the seemingly random series of objects: little samples of rock, crystal, fossil collected on pit-stop planets, a Rodi-Star for Temporal Excellence half hanging off the desk, a cluster of thumb drive stocked with films, music, and other media either gifted or stolen from Rewind- Perceptor was still not sure. Little gadgets and doodles from Nautica were in abundance and horrible tiny contractions built by Whirl intermingled with them. There was even a small toy-like bauble on the corner of his desk from Chromedome, Perceptor had been present when the Mnemosurgeon had left it there and Brainstorm never moved it, simply fiddled with it absentmindedly while mulling over his work before throwing it back to the corner of his desk.

All these items, papers and dirt and yet Perceptor still did not actually find what he was looking for. 

With a heavy sign, Perceptor responded to the insisting ping in his comms. 

::How do you expect me to find anything on your desk?:: 

Brainstorm’s response was bitingly quick. ::What are you talking about? Everything is organized!::

::It’s garbage, Brainstorm.::

::Use that brilliant mind of yours and you’ll see everything has a purpose.::

::What purpose do Ultra Magnus’s cease orders from 28 cycles ago have?:: Perceptor didn’t dare touch the fragile, lopsided stack in fear of it tumbling down and only adding to the mess. 

::They are counterbalances. Don’t move them or the desk will collapse.:: Perceptor had no doubt in the truth of that statement even if its intent was a joke.

::We are cleaning this when you return to the ship.::

::It doesn’t need any cleaning! I know where everything is!:

Perceptor let out a derisive snort. He could picture perfectly the little fluttering of Brainstorm’s ailerons, his hands moving in frustration. 

::The tell me where your cathetometer is.::

It was the reason for this call in the first place. For rare occasion, Perceptor had the lab to himself with Brainstorm accompanying Rodimus’s small expedition team. It’s not Perceptor’s fault his colleague forgot his equipment but he was not about to be a complete aft in not assisting. He just wasn’t going to personally dig through Brainstorm’s garbage heap of a desk alone. 

::Hmm, if you don’t see it in top it’s probably in one of the drawers.::

Perceptor rounded the desk to see six drawers lining the sides of the desk with three on each side. 

::Which one?::

::The left side. I keep the important stuff there.::

Perceptor raised an optic ridge and couldn’t help but ask ::And what do you keep on the right?::

::Come on Percy, let me have a little mystery, a touch in intrigue.::

::Nevermind, I don’t want to know.::

Perceptor didn’t need to be present to know Brainstorm was pouting, blast mask intact or not. Even hundreds of meters between them and Perceptor knew a pouting, sulking Brainstorm anywhere. 

::You’re no fun.::

::Yes I am.:: Perceptor replied back as he started with the top drawer, pulling it open only to find it crammed to the brim with even more data pads. All of them pressed together to a block so not even a tiny piece of dust could enter. Perceptor slammed the drawer shut. ::How do you live like this?:: he found himself reiterating. 

::Oh, not fun loving Perceptor still complaining about my desk. Is that fun? Cleaning and organizing?::

::You’re a scientist. How do you find anything in this?::

::Tell me how you are fun in explicit detail and I’ll tell you my organizational strategies. We can make a date of it.::

Perceptor snorted as he opened the second drawer. This was filled with several instruments and after some careful digging, he found the cathetometer . ::We can clean your desk together.::

::You must be a hit at the club, Percy. Really. Absolute stud. What moves do you have? The pencil sharpener? The label maker? The file organizer? Actually, you can’t claim that one. Minimus invented and perfected that one. ::

Perceptor could have told Brainstorm at any moment that he had found what the other mech was looking for but, he held onto the tool for a moment, softly smiling to himself as Brainstorm rambled insults to him. It shouldn’t be charming, it shouldn’t be amusing, it shouldn’t bubble up any sort of affection. And yet. 

::I’ve seen you dance, Brainstorm. I wouldn’t speak so confidentially with what you’ve demonstrated.::

::Are you saying Minimus is a better dancer than me? Because you surely can be saying that you are a better dancer. I mean, I think you’ll fall apart if you stepped foot on the dance floor.::

::It hasn’t happened yet.::

::When have you been dancing at Swerve’s? Before or after you deep clean and detail your desk every day?::

::Funny.::

Without even thinking about it, Perceptor opened the third drawer. He stopped as it slid open, its few contents rocking in the sway. Recognition lit his processor in a warm, shy heat.

::I’m hilarious. So funny and smart and amazing and talented and resourceful. Speaking of resourceful…did you find the my cathetometer yet? I put googly eyes on it. For personality. Can’t miss it.::

Perceptor felt the warmth spread across his faceplates. ::I did.::

::Oh Percy, I could kiss you. Tailgate is almost back at the ship if you can give it to him. The mods to his hoverboard make him almost as fast as Rodimus. He’s pissed. Anyways I told you it would be easy to find. All my important stuff is.::

Perceptor barely heard a word of what Brainstorm said. Only sending back a short affirmative as he stared at the drawer. 

::Perceptor? You alright?::

With a sharp invent, Perceptor closed the drawer shut firmly. 

::Perfectly fine. I’ll be ready to pass it off to Tailgate. I’m clearing your schedule for the next cycle. We are cleaning your desk. I can’t work knowing you are working like this.::

::Percy! It’s fine. I don’t need your shitty excuse for a date-::

::It’s not a date.:: Perceptor swiftly cut off. ::This is a work hazard that is being remedied immediately.::

Brainstorm’s response was muted, delayed. ::Okay, okay. We’ll clean it up. I’m sure you’ll have a checklist and everything.::

Perceptor let a small smile come to his face even though he could hear the telltale rumbling of Tailgate’s juiced up hoverboard. ::Of course. You shouldn’t expect anything less from me. If you manage to get it done by shift’s end, I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe if you are lucky, we can dance.::

Brainstorm’s next several responses were streams of incoherent stutters that formed a very excitable agreement. Perceptor didn’t feel the need to continue the chatter as he passed over the tool to Tailgate who only gave him a slightly confused look at his smile. Perceptor didn’t care, not when he knew what lay at the bottom of Brainstorm’s important drawer. 

Sentimental fool.  

[decepti-thots]

Brainstorm character thoughts?

First impression: This character archetype could get kinda old, kinda fast, ehhh.

Impression now: It did not. I love Brainstorm, and tbh I probably ought to talk about him more. He's just so fucking good. The trick the story pulls where on reread you realise there is a whole period he is undergoing a character arc in the background is fantastic, after you have all the context from Elegant Chaos. His weird friendship with Chromedome, the understated way him being an MTO seems to have impacted his apathy towards the war, the ambiguity of his connection with Quark versus the gravity the narrative affords his feelings anyway… just great shit all around. The potentially one-note "haha Funny Weapon Explode Snarky Man" character turning out to be that was such a good thing to experience reading through for the first time.

Favorite moment: Can I cheat. Every moment he has in Elegant Chaos. Oh fine I'll pick one, his inability to shoot "Megatron" but his bluffing about it to everyone even as they're all thinking the worst of him! That whole scene is so. Brainstorm. Brainstorm PLEASE.

Idea for a story: I wanted more of the Brainstorm-Rewind dynamic, and honestly what I truly do wish we had in canon is them having a conversation about what Brainstorm knows of Chromedome's past, self-destructive behaviour, re: his previous cojunxes. Brainstorm loves Chromedome, but in a very different way to Rewind- he can't have that idealized view Rewind has because Chromedome has screwed him over directly in ways Brainstorm has gotten so used to he barely expects better anymore. I would love to see that conversation between them.

Unpopular opinion: I don't take the ending of LL as any kind of confirmation that Brainstorm/Perceptor is canon. I think you can read it that way if you wish, but IMO it's not obviously the case and I broadly don't think resolving that little c-plot with romance is all that necessary, so as someone not into the ship or anything I don't really bother adding that element in when thinking about post-canon.

Favorite relationship: Chromedome and Brainstorm. Hands down. Their friendship is CRIMINALLY underappreciated in fandom if you ask me, they are weird and prickly and sarcastic and in some ways not even great for each other. And also, Brainstorm was going to erase himself from existence after seeing Chromedome have the war take everything from him one too many times. Like. God.

Favorite headcanon: Brainstorm is really ambivalent about his alt mode because it's a military one, but he's never really been able to work out what he'd prefer, so he hasn't re-framed despite that now being a possibility.

[charlie-artlie]

uuuh mtmte posting hours sorry. it’s all i can think about (under the cut for spoilers)

i can’t get over the multifaceted twisted up mess that is chromedome/rewind. i’m absolutely obsessed with it. how did they even. get together. rewind was still MARRIED

like “hey i’m on a lifelong quest to find my missing husband, who i still love very much and miss everyday. anyway do you wanna like, go out sometime?” HOW DID THEY GET TOGETHER

like it makes absolute sense from chromosomes side cuz i just know his self-hating ass is like “i’m so lucky that rewind is letting me be his husband while his real husband is missing, it is reasonable and expected that i will be discarded when they’re reunited, this is fine and i’m so happy rn” like that makes sense to me, but what is going through rewinds head???????? i have to imagine it’s 50% “dominus is probably dead so it’s probably a non-issue. probably” and 50% “man…. i hope they like each other or its going to be really awkward when we’re all living happily ever after together 😬” hvgctgubivgft like baby what is your game plan here

i’ve already seen spoilers that dominus is going to be found, i just rly hope they touch on this stuff before then cuz i rly wanna know 😭 this isn’t even touching on the stuff with prowl like!!! i can’t even deal with the stuff with prowl!!! he was their boss!!!! augh!!!!

[dynared]

Hello! I'm sorry if you're tired of this topic, but I can't help but be glad that I'm seeing more and more people criticizing IDW comics!

Once I also wrote a post about criticism of these comics, and my main problem was that there is absolutely no lore in these comics, and if there is anything, it is very little.

I just can't believe that for so long the authors haven't brought anything to the transformers lore. During this really huge amount of time and an impressive list of issues, I expected just a ton of worked-out world and everything else. And as a result, the depth of the lore was approximately equal to the depth of the drying puddle.

I don't understand why many fans praise these comics for the politics and the worked-out world, when this is absolutely not the case. Politics is mainly based on some personal conflicts and intrigues, we practically do not immerse ourselves in the structure and work of the political apparatus, ideas, influence on social structures and lifestyle, the response of different segments of the population to this. No, I understand it's difficult and the age audience is not suitable, but maybe you can't make the central theme of comics something that you can't describe and don't understand how it works?

The authors do not know how to describe a truly alien race and, despite their hatred of human characters, have made Cybertronians so similar to humans that it is absurd.

For example, why is functionalism bad? I understand why this would be bad for humans, but why for another species whose lifestyle should be completely different? In fact, this is the most logical way of life for an alien race, because what is the alternative? Is there an alternative? Can Cybertron switch to equipping itself with conventional technology? What will the Cybertronians who are released from work do, what other jobs and activities are there? The authors do not go into this much and we do not see clear ideas of what a Cybertron society should be without functionalism. Well, or I didn't have enough of what the authors gave me.

But well, we have functionalism. Why is it that the elite of society under this regime are mostly the owners of "useless" altmods? Why not those who transform into scientific or very powerful military equipment? In general, under such conditions, the power on the planet would have been seized by the military part of society long ago.

It's not worth talking about the fact that the usual daily life of Cybertronians is described in almost no way. Along with the culture, we have received very little information about it.

Oh, maybe we know something about the transformers themselves then, right? Not really. Basically you can only find headcanon materials. And what about IDW? Maybe they offered us their glossary, terms, schemes? No, there's nothing. Moreover, already at that time, fans on the forums came up with everything and drew the structure of transformers, and the IDW authors were too lazy to even steal any ideas, except for a few.

But if the authors can't work with these topics, do they describe relationships and love well? Again, no, literally all relationships are either built from scratch, or do not develop, or are full of manipulation, deception and emotional swings (yes, everyone's favorite "the only good" pair of Chromedome X Rewind), or end in nothing, as if nothing ever happened. And it doesn't depend on whether it was a gay relationship or a completely straight one, all the relationships there are very poorly written. If this, like Arcee, is a representation, then it looks more like a direct insult.

And, by the way, if love is for everyone, then where is the love between a transformer and a human? Oh yes, authors hate humans. Love is not for everyone!

And in general, it's good, the authors want to add love and romance, but it needs to be justified! Love relationships are not a necessary phenomenon for species, a lot of stars have to come together for this kind of social interaction to be like that. How did the Cybertronians come to this when they don't have any prerequisites for it? How did they get the Conjux Endura ritual (or did you want to say "bonding"? ;) ).Why does such a strict government, as we were told, disapprove, but not prohibit such types of relations, if in all other respects it is totalitarian and cruel?

How do Cybertronian diseases work? Why did Ratchet die of this disease, but not the characters older than him? This point is generally very similar to a cheap way to soften the reader.

I can go on like this endlessly, but I'll stop here. Roberts is not just a fanfiction writer, he is a very mediocre  fanfiction writer who may have a couple of interesting ideas, but lacks the talent to show them. And then, ordinary average writers understand what they are doing and why, and do not get paid for it. It's even more insulting for the authors of fanfiction, who, even for the sake of their strange plots and ideas, try and spin like they're on a frying pan, go out of their skin, coming up with a justification for everything inside the fanfiction. Roberts can't do that.

In the end, I respect the Kiss Players more because the author knew perfectly well what he was doing and wanted to anger the audience, and the audience reacted appropriately. The authors of the IDW comics thought they were doing something smart and great, but they weren't. But the audience presents it as something great.

P.S. I apologize for the mistakes, I use a translator.

There is no need to apologize, you managed to point out the issues with IDW Transformers and why no one really bothered to read them outside of that specific hardcore audience, and not even a general hardcore audience, but an audience that agreed with one specific interpretation of the material, and everyone who had other interpretations could go suck a lemon.

I’ve said it before, this is a prime example of “Writing a comic about a comic” where the use of lore and specific characterizations is so specific to the franchise that any story that is told is Greek to anyone outside of the bubble, which accounts for IDW’s horrible sales. Skybound’s story so far has been criticized by some hardcore fans as a G1 redux, but even if it is, it’s still a well told story with universal themes, consistent, easy to understand characterizations, and characters that are likable for the heroes and hatable for the villains. It has a clear tone, something both IDW and IDW2 failed at utterly. Roberts, meanwhile was a terrible writer, but he was good at engaging the audience the same way fanfic writers do, focusing on the relationships that get the most dialogue, and leaving openings for others to fill in, via discussion or their own fic. But that’s useless when it comes to engaging a general audience. Most of the audience didn’t want to do the work of filling in the holes themselves, they wanted to have the story do that, or at least provide enough context to paint a picture.

As for Kiss Players, while I don’t know if he wanted to purposefully offend the audience or just create shock value, it was a side story comic. It didn’t shape shows afterwards causing them to tank, and doesn’t have people looking at the last show aired and yawning out of sheer boredom.