#beyond cybertron

[ozcarr]

It's been like a week since I watched it and I'm still digesting Transformers One

[dragontamer05]

You know I think an under utilized idea or concept in Transfomers is the fact that you can have more then one Prime exist at a time.

Only one Prime/ Bot may be the carrier/holder of the Matrix of leadership but the Matrix isn't what makes a Prime. Or at least holding it doesn't.

And a Prime doesn't have to like die for a new one to be appointed- I'd assume, after all there wasn't just one Original Prime. There were several.

So like imagine a story where idk Optimus has been tasked (by Primus?) to go seek out the new Primes to help restore order to Cybertron or something.

Perhaps as wielder of the Matrix it could allow him to bestow/gift the power of the Primes to one deemed worthy, or alternatively it's just something that can happen to a Bot by the will of Primus or something idk.

Hell Cybertron is a big planet plus Cybertrontians/Transformers can and travel to other planets and live off Cybertron. Why not have Optimus just ends up meeting someone else that turns out is also a Prime- and thus discovering he's not the last/only Prime.

-

I know there are other Prime characters like Rodimus I just don't see them frequently brought up/ the general idea of another Prime outside of like the comics anyway.

[kingghoost]

Titan/Cityspeaker au!!! 💙❤️

I have a ton of ideas for this AU that I haven't put into motion yet, so if you have any questions I'll probably have an answer ^^

I'll tag everything related to this AU as "titan/cityspeaker au" 💕

Doodles + Story below ⬇️⬇️⬇️

" Beyond the outskirts of Iacon, there once was a meek Titan and a protective Cityspeaker. While they existed in harmony, the decreasing amount of energon resources slowly wrecked their comfortable life in isolation. Desperate for survival, the Cityspeaker took the Titan for a new start in Kaon, where he would receive work as a medic practicing in the illegal gladitorial pits. While the Cityspeaker was desensitized to the cruel inequality Kaon—and the rest of Cybertron—had to bring, the Titan felt nothing but sorrow, resenting his inability to do anything to help.

Since Titans were an extreme rarity, the Cityspeaker disguised the Titan as an ordinary ship in hopes of his identity never being discovered. While travelling for unknown purposes, Alpha Trion found the Titan through an abnormally large life signal. Confronted by the wise mech, the Cityspeaker caved and allowed him to communicate with the Titan through him. While conversing, Alpha Trion realized the Titan had all the qualities worthy of being a Prime, and so explained his prophecies to the Cityspeaker.

Alpha Trion had managed to convince the duo to protest against the caste system alongside Megatronus, with the Titan communicating through his Cityspeaker. After enough time had passed, the council had favored the Titan over Megatronus, choosing to entrust the Matrix onto him. The Titan was named Prime, and the Cityspeaker was expected to serve, protect, and aid him in his journey.

Thus, everything—yet nothing—had changed. "

In this AU Titans and cityspeakers are practically unheard of. While Ratchet's face markings are permanent/not makeup, I doubt anyone would question them since they wouldn't even know what they mean.

I guess the public would become aware of such when Optimus would be named Prime? "Hey guys, your new leader is a giant fuckin' spaceship incapable of talking to you directly. Have fun!"

I'm thinking of Ratchet being unusually protective of his 'ship' ... "Hey, don't lean against him—I mean, it..."

[keferon]

Something for Ratchet getting to know Deadlock/Drift

———————————————————

Ratchet doesn’t know when exactly the giant alien mech that’s fallen into his life became “Kid”. But he knows why.

There’s something to the way the other throws himself at life with a reckless abandon that screams of youth, even as Ratchet is fairly sure by the weathering of the kid’s metal plate that this mech is way older than he is already.

What frustrates Ratchet though is that the kid’s not even subtle in his recklessness. Ratchet’d barely finished welding his injuries before he started poking at the welds curiously. Just a couple days ago, Ratchet had caught him with a can full of neon pink paint halfway to his mouth. And then there’s the way that he still calls Ratchet “Rat”, even as Ratchet scowls at him. Because he knows the kid knows his full name by now and he can tell the kid enjoys getting on his nerves.

There’s the way the mech moves around his workshop. Clumsy. As though still learning to move around for the first time. Ratchet’s lost count of the number of times the mech has smashed lamps, knocked over tables, or nearly damaged delicate medical equipment that Ratchet’s quickly snatched out of his path (because he needs those, and they aren’t nearly as easy to replace as tables or lamps).

And then the day comes when they’re walking out late at night in an abandoned part of town. No one around to see anything suspicious. No one around to help when the alien falls out of the sky in front of them, a mass of writhing tentacles and glowing red eyes.

And Ratchet watches as the kid moves. A blur of motion so fluid and quick that it goes beyond practice. There’s a gun in one of the mech’s hands and a sword in the other. (And where had the kid even been keeping those?)

A slice of the sword sends a tentacle flying over Ratchet’s head. And a short blaze of gunfire later and the alien is nothing more than a corpse oozing green goo onto the sidewalk.

Ratchet is left clutching his wrench and staring up at the kid with something bordering between shock and awe. Reminded that the kid is also a warrior. A warrior ages older and more experienced than Ratchet himself. Deadly, when he wants to be.

Though he’s never shown any desire to hurt Ratchet. In fact, if the way the kid’s looking down at Ratchet as he stows the sword and gun back wherever they came from, the kid feels protective of him. And Ratchet realizes in that moment that he feels the same.

The kid can protect him from the aliens. He vows to protect the kid from what he likely doesn’t know (hopefully will never know). That humans have a darker side, can be just as deadly and dangerous as any of the aliens they’re fighting. And that there are those who will always seek to understand what is new and unexplained by any means necessary.

ANON I LOVE YOU THIS IS WONDERFUL KGJNGNGJFKFMFNCNC

I just. Ahahahahah OH I LOVE to think how much of a disaster Deadlock would be for Ratchet’s workshop hahaha. Everything is on its place? Nope now its not. The whole table got sent to the opposite corner just because your new big ass roommate tripped over it khkhk

ALSO. ehehehe. HEAR ME OUT.

I was thinking a lot about what would Deadlock eat while he’s on Earth. Since in this au Cybertronians doesn’t know Earth even exists so they didn’t get the chance to hide some snacks on it in advance.

So I got this creepy fucking idea. What if he eats the Quintessons?

Remember how some Quintessons are described as organic and some as robotic? And remember how in Transformers Quintessons are always trying to steal some kind of energy from Cybertron? Sometimes it’s energon, sometimes it’s spark energy, you got the idea. I’m trying to say that Quintessons are clearly compatible to Cybertronian energy sources~

So. Wouldn’t it be wonderfully fucked up if Deadlock had to hunt Quintesson robot monsters, kill them, and then drink their fuel out of their lines? Wouldn’t it be crazy gory and fun to think about hmm

Because yeah no the Earth doesn’t have any energon in it and Deadlock is crash landing there so he doesn’t have enough energon just laying around in his pockets.

[coalballbaby]

One thing I've noticed when people talk about Prowl is that they tend to have a very black-and-white attitude towards liking him. The most common two things I've seen are either a) people feel too guilty about actually enjoying the character that they shy away from going beyond summaries of his actions + a vague feeling of treating him as just a morally-corrupt-character-they-enjoy, or b) they really, publicly like him, but tend to make extremely individualistic takes that reduce his character from a nuanced part of a larger narrative to a guy misunderstood by the cast around him. Of course, I'm not saying individualistic takes are inherently bad-- it can be fun and thought-provoking to think about the more personal elements of character, what they believe, why they might do it-- but it's easy to come up with excuses for a character this way.

I think it's important to consider that Prowl's just... not written as a likeable, glup-shitto-ifiable way. He's not meant to be taken that way, and he does genuinely shitty things to innocent people while wrangling his own sense of responsibility for the future of all things Cybertron. Of all depictions of Prowl, IDW's version is the clearest criticism of the police force and how easily power can be misused under beliefs of serving a "greater good"-- I'm not saying that you can't like him because of this, (for one it be massively hypocritical, as I am. a notorious and huge Prowl enjoyer), but I am saying that this is something important to keep in mind when engaging with the character critically, especially if you're going to talk about him publicly. Prowl isn’t just morally gray or "misunderstood", he’s a deliberate allegory for institutional rot, for what happens when someone fully buys into the idea that the ends justify the means, that it may be necessary to endanger innocent people if it preserves a controlled future. His actions aren’t accidents or unfortunate side effects of good intentions; they're the result of a belief system that values control, hierarchy, and long-term strategy over individual lives. When people detach Prowl from that context-- when they talk about him purely as a burdened tactician doing his best-- they risk replicating the same logic that real-world systems use to excuse harm. I know saying this kind of sounds insane from a Transformers IDW standpoint, but IDW itself is a very political story, and sometimes, well. I like to think about it. (I also realize that I'm taking a lot from specifically Roberts, Roche's, and Barber's interps, which are a lot more focused on this morally complicated Prowl-- but those just happen to be my favorite takes on him, and I tend to focus on those a lot more. Personal bias, I know, but I do have thoughts on the many other Prowl portrayals in the IDW run.)

Okay er. I'm getting distracted. Liking a character like Prowl doesn’t mean you have to soften his worst actions or reframe his motivations into something more sympathetic. He isn’t compelling in spite of being deeply flawed, he’s compelling because the narrative doesn’t let that shit slide lmao. Things/people bite him in the ass for it and that's awesome. He's boiling in his own sweat and fear and anger after putting the onus on himself to make a thousand contingency plans with him in control, because he's a deeply paranoid man who tends to use others' inaction as an excuse. We can all hold hands and think about it... promise?

[wireweaver]

au cyberformed newyork

post 1: Basic setup and summary

New york gets cyberformed and possibly beyond by a currently unknown force turning the landscape into a surreal metal mess a mix of earth, cybertron and something else…. city now full of new dangerous cybernetic life many bots and humans characters missing and the humans whos locations are know have either turned into metal statues or somehow became cybertronian. Now, our group of surviving characters gotta figure out what happened, how it happened, and can it be stopped? as the mysterious forces that started the cyberforming continue to warp and change the city are characters don't know much, but they know this isn't a normal cyberforming

Anyways ya its a horror mysteries au featuring lot funky concepts, surreal bullshit, robo body horror, yaoi, character drama, lots of bickering and some fun character moments, lots of existential crises, the horrors, and more. Raoul is sorta the main character of that au. It focuses on quite a few characters, but if I ever turn those drafts into fanfic or something, the plot mostly follows him and Tracks story. (Also, the darker colored one with yellow is Raoul Full ref is here)

idk if this will just stay a for fun au or if I will start finishing and publishing the fic, but either way, I'm open to asks if anybody is interested.

Some art of the corrupted cybernetic cretures below VVVVVVV

______________________

[revelboo]

I just wanted to say, thank you for showing me where to get the little models, I've been having so much fun putting these guys together the past two days

Sorry for the quality of the photo

Shockwaves! I found the Blokees models purely by accident, but I love how tiny and posable they are. I ended up moving my Flame Toys Megs to my plant shelf just to make more room for these guys

Gravity Pt 6

IDW Optimus x Reader

• “Why Earth?” Turning away from his work at the soft question, he finds you sitting cross legged nearby watching him with a little frown. You’d been quiet so long, he’s assumed you were resting. At his questioning look, you roll your hand in a vague little gesture. “Why did you all come here? Why Earth?”

• Servos flexing slightly, he leans his forearms against the desk. Almost looming over you, but you don’t lean away. Just arching your eyebrows at him, because it’s been bothering you for a while now. Surely there were other worlds closer to his world, to Cybertron. So why here? “In the archives, there were ancient records of worlds the Primes had visited during the expansion before the war with the Quintessons. Of worlds that had been seeded with energon or interacted with,” he says. The words bringing up more questions than answers. Quintessons? Other Primes? Only energon rings a bell, because that’s the stuff he lives on, but seeded?

• Your expression twists and he knows he should explain it all. That he owes it to you after trapping you with him, but the past has only ever wounded him. Dredging it up always brings up the choices and mistakes he’d made. The things he can’t undo, but wishes he could because something small might have led them all down a different path, a brighter one if he’d only been better, stronger.

• “You came here for the energon,” you hazard. He’s volunteered so little of his past, only letting things slip occasionally. Like that his Autobots are at war, that they’d had to flee their world and that their enemies had followed. The details, though? Like why they’d left Cybertron or even what the war was over? Those things he doesn’t seem ready to talk about so you haven’t pushed.

• “We had no way of knowing about your species. You didn’t exist when this world was seeded as a potential colony.” Reaching out, he crooks a servo not really expecting for you to lay a hand on him and let him gently pull you to your feet. “I wouldn’t have led the Decepticons here if I’d known.” And that’s his guilt to carry from now on. Another failure that might cost so much, another sin weighing on his spark, because this world might not survive their war. You might not.

• “You guys were starving, right?” You ask, hand lingering on his servo as he inclines his head. “You were trying to save who you could, I get that.” It’s not fair or right, but you do understand. From what you can gather from the things he doesn’t want to say, things were pretty desperate. He was desperate. And to be responsible for the survival of your people, what would you have done in his place? You’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be nearly as honorable as he is, that you’d do anything regardless of the cost, because you’re not good like he is.

• Spark warming at your soft words, it’s that you understand that makes him curl his servo about you. How can you not blame him for bringing his war to your home? Not hate him or at least resent him? Your little palm slides against his servo like you’re trying to comfort him, worrying over him. It’s a weight from him that you don’t despise him even though he knows that this and what will follow will be his fault. For now he just wants to feel your hand on him and pretend that this one time, his decisions won’t cost him what little he has right now in this moment. Won’t cost you, because you give him something to look forward to every day. Something beyond duty or responsibility, just enjoying your company, the sound of your voice. The soft touch of a hand reaching out to him to break his loneliness.

Previous

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[theangrycomet-art]

TFA Reference Model, first attempts

edit: here’s more reference models for elite guard, cybertron intelligence, and elita’s squadron

Trying to push myself a bit and learn how to draw mechs. Lot's of room for improvement but I'm happy with this experiment. Didn't tweak the design's too much beyond giving them more of their vehicle's features and adding some width to the toothpick waistlines some of their official art has.

I swear trying to figure out the "proper" height difference between everyone then trying to figure out how tall they would actually be took WAY too long and I still don't think i got it right. Like, Prowl doesn't feel like he should be shorter than Ratchet but he is???

COMMISSIONS OPEN

[beemochi-art]

SHOCKWAVE AND WHIRL!!

A Dangerous genius from the depths of the nemesis, an unknown danger beneath the depths of their very ship. Whirl, his bodyguard, eyes to the outside and most importantly his consort.

Time to talk about their LORE!

Shockwave awoke, connected to the wall, weak, cold and confused, connected to the wall by cords and wires. So much information was running through his head he had to break free from the wall to catch a break. It took some time The voice’s kept calling him shockwave. It took some time but Shockwave used the database he was connected too to learn the history of the cybertron war, what happened the planet, where he was and most importantly what happened to him. He discovered the decepticons called him shockwave because that’s what they’d call the database ai (similar to Siri.) created by Soundwave. He also figured out no one knew he was in this little room.

It was unknown who Shockwave was before his Empurata ritual happened. He doesn’t remember anything from his past not even his real name. Slowly things here and there would come back to him, memories of his old life, people he cared about but don’t know anymore. With the discovery of cybertrons demise. Shockwave became angry. He want the both decepticons and autobots to die for their war, he knows that their planet may be beyond fixing. He swore a slow revenge for both parties.

But while upgrading and plotting, he started getting some of his emotions, he started getting lonely and wondering if any other Empurata we’re capable of breaking out of their trance.

(Only decepticons have Empurata aka drones in their faction due to have enough resources for them and that they are basically fee labor. Drones are lower class them not really considered alive, so often times they are vehicons or work in dangerous areas. They are lower than servant Class cons)

Shockwave didn’t want to damage any vehicons or cause unnecessary death. So he told himself if he caught one with any hint of life to them he would continue with procedures. Until then he worked on himself and mapped out weaknesses in the decepticon army.

One day he spotted a vehicon looking at itself through windows or lagging behind others. Not entirely paying attention. It wasn’t hard to find him because of the unique markings on its neck. Shockwave stole him away, no one would notice and went though the procedure of waking the vehicon.

The Drone was confused and scared most of the time and barely spoke. Mostly just staying in a corner or looking at their reflection. Shockwave would mostly leave them alone. Eventually tho as the Drones personality began to shine through, they asked questions or make pretty honest remarks, they could offend times be considered rude. Shockwave didn’t care tho, it was nice just to have someone around. Then the Drone personality came back full swing Bold, crazy, honest, crude. Most interesting this mech had no fear. They were also a very skilled and dangerous opponent often pulling insane manic maneuvers when fighting just too win, they were incredibly strong. It was hard for shockwave to keep up. One day the drone remembered his own name, Whirl.

The two work closely together. Whirl pretends to be a regular old vehicon on the surface. While shockwave upgrades and preps their next movie. It’s difficult for Whirl sometimes tho, because he doesn’t take disrespect lightly and he has to keep most of his skills to a minimal level.

[cozzzynook]

Rodimus having no idea he's a tank carrier because it's so rare and was outlawed way before he was born. Tank carriers are seen as a legend because no one has ever seen one. Because of this Roddy has no idea he is one.

Due to starvation and constant stress his coding has never turned online. But when he's on the Lost Light he feels safe and makes a home for himself. Especially after he bonded to Drift and Ratchet.

His coding activates and he becomes sparked. Except no one knows including himself. He thinks his symptoms are from bad energon, stress, not sleeping enough.

Ratchet knows something is wrong but when he scans him Rodimus comes up as fine because his equipment isn't made for tank carriers.

When he starts showing they all dismiss it as him eating more and no longer starving.

Then one day his valve starts leaking and he feels a horrible cramping feeling. Drift and Ratchet are busy working and he doesn't know what to do.

He lays in bed panicking as energon leaks out and he's in so much pain. He has no idea what's happening to him.

I love this ask so much. I’m making a long fic out of this.

-

The first memory in his processor was not like the first memory of other bots on cybertron.

His very first memory file was deeply embedded and locked within a personal file beneath a personal file that did not belong to him but another he did not know.

Two mechs who he never knew designations of, could not find a single photo or holovid of nor could he ask another who they were.

All he had to go on was this memory chip implanted in his mind with a first view of both himself and two others. A shared memory file, a gesture long passed and well hidden within Nyonian culture he dare not speak to another out of fear of experimentation and functionalist backlash that remained even after the fall of Cybertron.

A mech laying in a bundle of soaked blankets on a hard floor covered in fluids that looked to be in deep pain but smiling at him. As another looked worried beyond possibility as they just as equally gazed down at him touching his helm with a sensitivity he’s never even knew the most delicate wire deep medic to have.

A touch he’s never once felt comfortable giving to another in fear of their reaction.

Their species didn’t call for such delicacy and as such it was deemed an insult to be given. Seen for the weak really.

He didn’t understand what was wrong with him for the two mechs to treat him that way when the second mech that held him was the one in such pain.

His memory core always warmed and saddened at the sight of the two and he’s never been able to figure out why.

All he knows is that the two were whispering words and pushing feelings into his spark that he’s never figured out nor been able to talk about. Rodimus isn’t sure why this memory plays from time to time during the course of his life but it has.

Always at a pivotal moment.

When Nyon fell at his own servos.

When he was shot and killed by Megatron, becoming Rodimus Prime.

When he went to find the knights of cybertron and when he encountered the Djd and time traveled.

The day he almost lost his crew and ship only to bargain for their ability to keep said home on the promise of searching out materials and fuel for Cybertrons restoration and to keep Megatron off world to give their people time to settle and rebuild their lives.

It was a shot in the dark but thankfully his flames were incessantly bright and his finish wasn’t so bad either.

The memory flux always played during pivotal moments, though annoying no Starscream and Windblade and Bumblebee so they’d say yes was not a pivotal memory flux moment. It was a pivotal personal record of his. That particular memory flux only happened when a huge moment was happening.

So why on in the galaxies milky debris was he getting memory flux after memory flux night after night ever since he started fragging conjunx Ratchet and Drift?

The two were conjunx to each other and he was just a fun time short fling that they felt bad for and kept around. He didn’t like saying it out loud or thinking about it but he knew it was true.

The two would grow bored of him eventually and when they did he hoped he could handle it.

Maybe that was why he had the memory fluxs lately?

They were going to leave him.

Maybe he should beat them to it? Rip the adhesives off and get it over with? Play it off so it won’t hurt so bad in the future? Salvage what he could so it wouldn’t be so painful in the long run? Should he just up and leave? No. That might hurt them even if they wanted to be rid of him. Maybe he should just…slowly separate himself? That could work. Right?

He tried excusing himself that same night when the two came back.

He didn’t even make it out the habs door when Ratchet grabbed him by the waist and demanded in his usual grouchy tone for Rodimus to spill what was wrong.

He…burst out in tears after trying to pull himself free of Ratchets grip for a solid five minutes only for Ratchet to lift him with ease and set him on his and Drifts laps on their couch. Drift put two digits on his chin and turned his helm holding optic contact and suddenly he was crying telling them he’ll leave and its okay that they don’t love or want him. He’ll just leave and they never have to think about him again for as long as they live.

That..—that got him a very confused and concerned set of optics and em fields that didn’t know what to do at the sudden burst of emotion coming from their intended conjunx.

Rodimus was able to slip free of their hold and stand but the two were a lot quicker than he was at the moment and they grabbed hold of him before he could run off.

The two of them were completely confused by Rodimus sudden influx of emotions and tears and the insecurity they thought was majority replaced by reassurance.

They can admit they should’ve conjunxed him already but they were truly waiting until they landed on a beautiful planet to conjunx him, not just floating in space. Although, knowing Rodimus he probably would be fine with that. Maybe they should just conjunx and spark bond with him while they floated through space? If thats what it took to assure their intended conjunx and make him happy, they’d do it. But they also knew he deserved more than a rushed mating ritual.

“Roddy, we love you. We don’t want anyone else. We just want to wait until we’ve landed to conjunx you.”

“Kid, please, no more crying. We can talk about this,” Ratchet was not one for tears no matter how many patients he’s seen breakdown, it was never his strong suit. But seeing Drift or Rodimus cry? It physically tore his spark apart.

It seemed Rodimus couldn’t even stop himself from shedding his optics and so the two led him into berth where he curled into the both of them and buried his face ashamed and embarrassed and still so genuinely hurt and afraid. His emotions felt stronger than a normal em field should and Ratchet waited until Rodimus was deep in recharge to scan him fully from the tips of his helm flares to the sole points of his pede tips.

Every single scan he could think on came back normal.

His spark was its usual difference to the average spark readings since his spark was traumatized at what his files describe as a delicate developmental stage. It was an extremely rare occurrence to appear on file and it was never added more detail than that given their government never wanted even their medical staff to know what happened under the circumstances of safety. He’d done some digging once, he found it meant they emerged from the spark with dysfunction. He never got more than that and knew anything else would mean his offlining and so he worked with what he had.

Ratchet informed Drift of his clear readings and Drift looked as if he couldn’t believe what Ratchet was telling him.

“Maybe he needs to see Rung?”

“As if the kid will willingly go to a therapist,” Ratchet rolled his optics as he fought the urge to ignite a smoke tube. “We keep an optic on him,” Ratchet finally said after a long moment, “we can’t be obvious about it either. Don’t want to aggravate whatever this is,” he huffed with a shoulder drop.

For now they knew Rodimus wasn’t in immediate or any danger for all they knew but it was safe to say something was going on and they knew to handle it with extreme care and caution.

In the following weeks they found Rodimus was often tired.

Taking the time to recharge in multiple bursts within his office after actually completing his work, he would curl into a protective ball of sorts and recharge. He abstained from his usual meteor surfing activities which greatly pleased all of his crew but worried Drift and Ratchet past this quadrants moons. Rodimus never liked passing up the chance to meteor surf for anything let alone for recharge.

Multiple scans yet again from Ratchet and nothing.

His spark was still its normal unusual pace and his frame was healthy minus the minor nutrient deficiencies. He was in good health and it bugged the two to no end since they could only watch their intended recharge throughout the day always exhausted and slowing in pace. Rodimus would drop into a deep, snoring sleep that scared the two since he never snored and didn’t wake no matter how hard they shook him.

But no matter how strange this new tiredness was, neither Ratchets nor First aid or Ambulons scanners could pick up anything being wrong with Rodimus.

Eventually the two had to accept that this was a new norm for their intended and so they began to carry a blanket and pillow in their sub space so they could have Rodimus safely recharge on them instead of his desk.

Rodimus didn’t seem to notice how exhausted he always was but the crew did and they expressed concerns to which Ratchet said Rodimus scans were normal. Many figured it was his lack of self care catching up to their captain finally but Drift and Ratchet felt differently. They just didn’t have proof but they just knew it was something else.

Things only became stranger when Rodimus suddenly didn’t like his usual brand of energon anymore. Sure they knew he never really liked any energon specifically since he was so used to starving during the war and when he lived in Nyon. But now he purged at the smell and sight of certain fuel foods, cubes and drinks.

That made Ratchet lay him down in their berth that Rodimus began to pile soft blankets onto that admittedly did make recharge a lot better. Though the two weren’t originally a fan of the pillows they couldn’t say a thing when they saw how comfortable Rodimus slept on them. Especially now that he was purging at the smell and sight of energon he usually never had a problem with.

Rodimus relationship with energon wasn’t the best but that was because he’d consume fuel even if he didn’t like it. Now he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t even be in the same room as most fuels which terrified Ratchet and Drift who immediately noticed Rodimus getting smaller. They were one nano klik away from taking a pod and bringing Rodimus back to Cybertron for Ratchet to do an invasive frame search on him when the two accidentally drank their energon around Rodimus.

The mechs tanks growled something fierce and his optics were becoming static with tears as he looked from their energon to them as he held a servo on his tanks that somehow had a small swell to it even though Rodimus hadn’t eaten in almost a month. They were quick to rush their mugs of energon to him and when he grabbed both and poured both into one mug and drank the fuel eagerly, they were smiling so happily when he was able to finish it and not get sick.

Ratchet did a thorough scan on Rodimus when the mechs back was turned and he was drinking another mix of both Drift and Ratchets fuel in the sword mechs arms while Drift rubbed his spinal strut, Ratchet was shown a clean bill of health. It left him silently fuming as he felt like he was failing Rodimus but Drift gave him a look that told him to focus on their current success of Rodimus finally being able to fuel again.

From that moment the two were more than happy to see Rodimus drinking fuel made for their frame types. He always mixed it saying it was disgusting if he didn’t and neither argued since they wanted him healthy and fueling. So when he began to gain weight in his aft, thighs and tanks they didn’t complain one bit.

Ratchet wasn’t sure why he was gaining weight in those areas only and he wasn’t sure why Rodimus was steadily gaining the most weight in his tanks or why it was round and heavy with no jiggling. He can admit he was happy their intended wasn’t wasting away but he was concerned about Rodimus getting even more tired as he fueled more than before while having mild frame pain.

The frame pain with no readings as to why sent him over the edge making him growl with a deep rev of his engine and he was throwing a wrench through the wall before he knew it. The action scared himself and Drift but it scared Rodimus even more making the mech try hiding his optics as he slightly waddled from the room with an apology.

Ratchet tried stopping their intended but Drift interrupted and told him it was okay.

“This is..stressful and scary..you throwing the wrench through the wall is fine Ratty. But whatever is going on with Roddy.. is making him sensitive..we should give him a moment and you need a moment too just like I do.”

Ratchet hated when Drift was right.

He scrubbed his face plate with his servos and vented heavily. Nodding his helm, Ratchet went to drop heavily onto their couch as Drift went off to the training rooms most likely. For a while Drift can let loose and use his claws and fangs to get his frustrations out while Ratchet can let himself ignite his smoke tube and forget everything for a while.

They were both worried about what Rodimus was doing and they commed Minumus to check the cameras to keep a detailed optic on their intended which was immediately bypassed with Minumus going to sit with Rodimus to keep a much closer optic on the mech since he was worried for him as well.

Rodimus went to the lower decks with Minimus and sat near the heated oil where he felt his frame relax and some of the pain slip free. He told Minimus he could leave which got him a blank stare so he rolled his optics and asked if Minimus could get him the new blend of energon he preferred to which the mech did but ordered him to stay where he was.

Rodimus hated how he had to follow that order seeing as he now needed help to stand since his tank was getting too heavy for him alone to raise himself.

He just really wanted a moment to sort himself and pretend he wasn’t scared. He knew something was wrong with him. He knew it wasn’t normal to be drinking Drift and Ratchets blend of energon that wasn’t made for his frame type and it wasn’t normal to be this exhausted to the point he was tired even after a nap or deep sleep. Not to mention his frame was uncomfortable now and his tank was heavy like something weighed him down.

He wasn’t an idiot, he knew Ratchet was scanning him when his back was turned and when he was sleeping. He knew Ratchet didn’t know what was wrong and he knew Drift and Ratchet were extremely worried about him. He tried not to let his emotions and em field get the best of him but he often couldn’t keep the emotional flux to himself. Ratchet and Drift were incredible at dealing with them but he wished they didn’t have to.

Venting deeply, he shifted his hips a little to try and find a more comfortable position as he dropped his shoulders and sniffled.

He didn’t want to cry right now and he wished he wasn’t stressing Ratchet and Drift out but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t know what was wrong and the memory flux he now had every night was not helping.

It seems the last time he was truly stress free and beginning to fuel at proper times of the day is when this all started. A reward of sorts for following a healthy recharge and fueling schedule was a passionate two days and nights in berth with his intendeds.

He wonders if he somehow messed something up during that time? If he knocked something a-loose or he was sparked?

He laughed at the impossibility of the second option. Ratchet would’ve seen that and he was barren anyway.

Their people had hot spots for sparklings or carried within their spark chamber until it was time for the new spark to emerge and they were placed within their frame that the sire built.

His spark was desolate in that regard.

It wasn’t fit to house another spark and furthermore he didn’t even have the sparkling sub compact spaces. He would never be able to feed them nor grow them.

When he first found out he was…inconsolable and clawing at his frame from crying out of anguish and frustration. He couldn’t understand what he’d done to deserve being barren and he couldn’t fathom why it bothered him so much in the first place. He’d found out during his time living in Nyon and that place was in no way suitable for a sparkling. That same night he was plagued with the memory flux he could not decipher but knew meant something was coming.

Not long after Nyon was destroyed by his own servo at the acceptance of his people.

It hurt.

It still does.

Even now so far from home, cruising along the galaxy further from what he’s done he was pained by his past and the current situation he couldn’t help but feel was his fault even if deep down something was nudging at him telling him it wasn’t his fault.

He placed a servo on his tanks off instinct and allowed himself to listen to that odd buried feeling he recognized as a type of coding coming to light in his processor. He felt it whenever he was near a sparkling but pushed it down and ignored it until he’d forgotten it. After learning he couldn’t have a sparkling he pushed anything to do with them away. It was too painful and while ignoring it hurt he couldn’t help but do it. The fear of exploring it far outweighed his need to divulge in the curiosity.

“Here, Rodimus. Your energon,” Minimus handed him the heavy mug and he gratefully accepted, keeping a servo on his tanks. He felt…at peace and his tanks softened at the gesture and his nerves didn’t feel so high strung anymore.

“I just want to be alone right now Mins. Please?”

There was a moment of quiet that encompassed the room and he was grateful for Minimus sitting further down with his back turned as he began to talk to his own conjunx quietly. He could hear Megatron asking about him and he silently sent an apology message to both mechs who returned it with Minumus telling him vocally not to do so and Megatron responding the same.

Neither faulted him for being, sick? He didn’t exactly feel sick but he felt off and tired while also feeling..normal in a way? Now that he wasn’t purging and could fuel again he felt better, a lot better, but the pains and exhaustion that his weight gain granted him reminded him things weren’t normal.

He consumed his fuel, rubbing his tanks as he sat against the low heat boiler— well low heat for him, he was still a fire mech at spark—and drifted in and out.

Eventually exhaustion won over and he was recharging mostly comfortably until he felt someone place a servo on him and he woke with a mild start shielding his tank with the servo that hadn’t left its spot.

“Its just us kid, its okay,” Ratchet soothed, vocal cords scratchy and deep as always, hints of tube smoke on his breath as he bent down to lift Rodimus up.

Rodimus tried pushing him away and protesting but Ratchet grouched at him making him laugh.

“I’m not that old kid, my knee struts can pick yer aft up easy,” Ratchet smirked as he lifted Rodimus with his knee struts cracking a little. Rodimus felt guilty for having Ratchet pick him up when he felt it should be the other way around but Ratchet flicked his spoiler making Rodimus stiffen and clench his thighs together. Ratchet assumed immediately he was in pain but the moan Rodimus struggled to capture left Ratchet’s optic ridges raising and his dermas lifting with them a moment later.

The scent of slick was wafting into the old medics olfactory sensors and soon he was sending an image capture to Drift who pinged him back not a full klik later ordering they get back to berth where the two could reconnect with their intended and reassure each other that things would be alright.

Minimus was long gone by the time Rodimus was on the elevator with Ratchet nipping at his helm flares making him almost drip beyond his modesty panels.

Drift was right at the elevator doors pouncing the two with greedy fangs that left bite marks on both their neck platings. His servos were about ready to take rodimus and Ratchet apart in the public empty space until Rodimus fidgeted and pushed him forward so they could reach their hab sooner.

“Please,” he moaned once inside their door even as an unknown mech hurried past blushing at their heavy em fields, “please, overload inside me.”

Who were they to deny his sweet cries as they laid him on the berth, mindful of his tanks and sensitive spoiler that fluttered so much it ruffled the sheets and helped him arch up his frame as he slid open his modesty panel. Valve dripping and swollen with slick and charge that tasted heavy and sweeter than cyber nectar during the summer heat.

Drift and Ratchet’s panels retracted so fast it hurt when their spikes pressurized and fanned the warm air.

They couldn’t even get themselves to attempt foreplay with their beautiful intended.

Spikes slipping past swollen folds and deep biolights that glowed impossibly magnificent.

The medical officer in Ratchets coding couldn’t help the subtle scan he did on Rodimus as the mech cried from feeling their spikes slip inside him at the same time. His exterior node just as swollen as his interior nodes, valve cycling down on both the spikes that were struggling not to overload early inside the heated plushy walls that weren’t as tight as he felt they should be. They were warm, wet, swollen and greedily taking everything they had to offer even after months of being untouched.

He wasn’t so lost in the pleasure he couldn’t file that for later but a look from Drift told him he wasn’t as subtle as he’d hoped and he relayed the information. Neither were at all able to stop pumping their spikes inside Rodimus until they were buried hilt deep and the tips of their spikes were touching a wet bulge that opened and allowed them deeper inside.

It was something neither Ratchet or Drift had but Rodimus always had it. The very first time they fragged it scared Ratchet a bit but when he found nothing wrong on his scans he left it alone. Now he wonders if he should’ve investigated it more thoroughly.

“Ah, Ratch, Drift, please, oh- please, overload inside me,” Rodimus cried, writhing on their engorged spikes that pushed roughly into his swollen node and squelching flesh that gave way to the two and only the two.

Ratchet and Drift put their thoughts to the back of their processor as Drift lifted Rodimus’s leg carefully to reach deeper within and make Rodimus lift himself closer to the swords mech who purred. Fangs digging blood from Rodimus’s neck cables as he felt Rodimus and his tanks push into him and grip his shoulder strut so hard he dug his digits until the paint chipped and metallico lightly bled.

Ratchet didn’t appreciate feeling left out and used his digits to tease along the seams of his chassis, both servos finding the hooks and unclasping the tight chest panel that gave way to heavy chest pouches that were swollen and sensitive to the air hitting them.

Rodimus cried out half over loading from the exposure and light brush of his dark nozzle against Drifts plating and Ratchets delicate touch. The medic took note of the changes and something flicked within his optics that he found within Drifts.

They both couldn’t stop themselves from apologizing to Rodimus who cried static as he painfully overloaded the moment Drift buried both his and Ratchets spikes as far as they could within Rodimus valve past the valve caps and into something they’ve only ever felt in Rodimus. As Ratchet gripped Rodimus’s pouches and twisted his nozzles making him release an ocean of charge from his valve and fizzle out his optics from over stimulation.

The two were soft as they kept pumping into Rodimus but they couldn’t find it in themselves to stop as Ratchet checked his systems and helped Rodimus wake up.

Little speedster was fragged past his capabilities that night as he was stuffed with overload making him feel fuller than he now typically did.

Scan after scan on himself and Drift that came back normal with a high in nutrients they were pouring into Rodimus valve was all Ratchet got and all Drifts internal scanners told them. Rodimus’s scans were reading normal with signs of exhaustion that the two felt a little bad about but strict berth rest under Ratchets orders left Rodimus’s readings normal again save for the faint pain readings that Rodimus told them was discomfort.

After that he was confined to the berth and their hab where his tanks grew steadily and it was attributed to him fueling so often and recharging so much.

It was two months later that Rodimus was alone in their hab suite, tanks feeling tight and more than just uncomfortable. He wondered if fragging every day while stuck on berth rest was the reason. He couldn’t help how charged he felt. Ever since they left the lower decks two months ago he was constantly in need of their spike and would cry until he got it. At first it was concerning him but when Ratchet found he was just overly charged but needed nutrients that their frames were overly providing and pumping into him, things were a bit calmer and the two weren’t so on edge.

He was surprised the two finally left to their shifts after waking to Rodimus shifting uncomfortably and struggling to get up to use the wash racks. His tanks were heavier than he liked admitting though the two knew since they’d lift it for him when he stood up to take the weight off for at least a solid klik.

It seemed today that wouldn’t work seeing as it hurt to have either of them touch his tanks.

He actually flinched when Ratchet put a faint digit on his tank to see what was wrong. He groaned shifting away from the mech but asked for his help to the wash rack while apologizing. He didn’t mean to worry them but his waste compartment felt painfully full and his tanks were beginning to cramp into his back plating and his spinal strut was stiff and twitching with bad nerve flares.

He decided to stay in berth after using the wash racks with an audible sigh of relief much to the twos panic.

He was uncomfortable, felt swollen in a way he hadn’t while his frame was changing and his tank felt like it dropped the moment he let himself drop back onto their nest.

“Roddy, we’ll be back within an hour at most,” Drift assured more so himself and Ratchet as Rodimus nodded half way and breathed deeply through the discomfort.

“Comm us immediately if something changes,” Ratchet ordered, it was funny, he was getting so many orders thrown at him when he was co captain of the ship. He couldn’t bother to find the orders anything but endearing since they were worried about him.

“I’m gonna try and sleep,” he told them as he shifted deeper into the pillows that he now used to sleep sitting up since it was too uncomfortable to sleep laying down.

He wasn’t going to be able to sleep, he knew that, but they didn’t. He wanted a moment alone to work through the pain without either of them panicking. He hoped whatever this was would be finished before they came back. Ratchet was heading to the medbay to get the next few days off while Drift was just doing the most important part of his new shift that’d only take thirty minutes at most before he was racing back to their hab.

He felt guilty for making them worry but they told him not to think about that, he took those words to spark when he felt a staggering pulse of pain contract around his hips and across his tanks making him flinch and stutter a vent.

His servos instinctively rubbed circles along the sides of his tank as he vented shakily and slowly laid back into the pillows until he felt another pulse ripple along his tanks and a heavy weight crush against his valve panel that seeped through his modesty panel.

His optics were wide and confused as he felt another pain grip him by the tank and twist at him until he was gripping his own tanks venting harshly feeling as if something within him was strangling his insides with how tight they became.

He punched out a breath of nothing as his windpipe struggled to do anything more but flex at his strained attempts to inhale as his tanks lurched and dropped fully.

He didn’t have a clue what was going on or what was happening to him and he didn’t have time to figure it out when he suddenly felt his tanks squeeze tighter this time before suddenly letting go and his modesty panels slid open without his permission. Releasing a flood of fluids that gushed until it seeped into the berth and made a puddle around him.

He felt his frame getting a momentary break and he rushed the best he could to sit forward but his tanks were in pain and too low for him to do more than shift to his side where he got stuck when another pulse of pain wracked his frame and he felt something within his tanks shift and he punched out a yelp of pain as he gripped the soaked sheets feeling like his insides were being torn apart.

He tried to focus on breathing when the intense feeling came to an end but he could feel another one slowly building and he was cramping in this position so he rocked himself on shaky and weak arms until he was on his servos and knees with his valve burning in the exposed air and moisture coating his frame as he began to overheat.

The pain came in another wave and this time he was slightly prepared as he grit his denta and grunted the best he could as he vented harshly when it was over.

His vision was blurry from tears building and he swayed on all fours as the next intense pain slammed into his frame feeling worse than the last.

The next pulse of pain lasted longer than the others and he wondered for a moment if this is how he would die? Why did it have to be so painful? What did he do to deserve this?

The memory flux he long associated with dread came to the forefront of his processor and he bent down sobbing as he thought this was really how he would die.

He’d die from intense pain until his spark gave out and he would never know what the memory flux meant or who the two mechs who plagued his entire life were or what they were saying.

He sobbed into his arm as he felt another painful pulse ripple through his tank and this time it made his spinal strut seize and he coughed up nothing, struggling to vent as he let his upper half collapse into the ruined sheets and pillows feeling his spark tighten from the ongoing pain and he closed his optics. He didn’t want Ratchet and Drift to see him like this but he didn’t want to die alone. He didn’t want to die at all.

“Oh my sweet spark, I’m so sorry we have to leave you like this,” a voice he didn’t know spoke to him and looking around the room with bleary optics he couldn’t see another bot but the voice persisted, weak as he felt, loving in a way he never knew possible and so comforting he almost forgot the pain he was in.

He felt another large wave of pain crash into his systems and notifications popped on his hud in his native dialect he’d long forgot was different than standard cybertronian glyphs.

His memory flux came to the forefront as he struggled to vent and gripped his tanks as the pain pushed him over the edge to the point he felt he was being ripped from the inside out that he let a strangled yelp turned cry free into the pillow and his arm as his memory continued to play.

Everything was fuzzy and he couldn’t really hear anything beyond the memory flux nor could he stop himself from letting the bond open allowing Drift and Ratchet to feel his pain, knocking them still and breathless as they struggled to gather themselves and their systems that had to reboot from the unbearable torment suddenly unleashed from Rodimus’s end of the bond.

“My sweet spark, you look so beautiful,” the exhausted mech that looked like he did said breathless, while cuddling him in a bundle of blankets, “one day you’ll understand why we had to leave you and one day you’ll be able to decipher this memory we pass on to you. But for now it will only come in silence as a warning for when you need it. Be it good or bad,” the mech that was built like him and carrying a large tank spoke tiredly before kissing his helm with the help of the mech who had his colors.

“We love you so much sweet sparkling. But it’s dangerous now with the functionalists hunting mechs like you and your carrier. So we have to leave you with a trusted amica who will take great care of you, our beloved sparkling.”

The two mechs were crying and kissing him as much as they could like always but this time he could understand what they were saying and it made his spark melt and tighten.

“We love you sweet spark and every time you flux in recharge and see us it’s our warning of safety and love to you. You will only know our words and voice when you have a sparkling of your own so you know whats happening to you sweet spark.”

“We’re so sorry we can’t be there to love and take care of you. We’d give anything to see you grow and give you everything your spark desires. But we were caught and now all we can gift you is life and this memory.”

“My sweet bitty,” the mech the same color as him cried, “i’m your sire and I love you so much.” He sobbed for a new reason as pain wracked his frame, he could half understand what they were saying but the pain was unbearable and he felt something move inside of him that made him terrified and yelp.

“Always know this my love,” the mech who physically looked like him cried, “just know we love you and we never wanted to leave you,” the mech cried as a loud bang sounded and shouting started.

“We love you sweet spark,” the other mech spoke before standing and shooting at a mech who barged in. He watched as the mech who looked like him tried to get up and run only to fall and cry in pain, shielding him.

The mech who was his color shouted and used their frame to shield the two of them and a hole was blown into his spark for his efforts. He cried feeling a piece of him he never knew be ripped away and he watched as the mech holding him pleaded for his sparklings life and to do whatever they wanted with him.

The mechs remained silent and the mech holding him was shot in the helm.

A final act of love was the mech wrapping their arms around him to shield him from the fall.

The memory ended with the sounds of what he now knew to be his cries before ending and he opened his tear stained optics to his berthroom where he was alone.

His professor was half putting together what the memory flux was until he felt another sharp pain ripping his attention painfully and he let out a strangled cry as he felt pressure begin to lower in his tanks and the door burst open to their hab and a rush of pedes barged into the room before halting.

The sounds of vents heaving and the shocked em fields wrapping around him didn’t take his attention for long.

He felt another wave of pain rush him and he gripped the sheets tighter feeling his frame rock at the pain as he tried to alleviate the worst of his pain.

“Roddy!”

Drifts cry and Ratchets heavy pedes broke him from his pain and he felt relief at no longer being alone as he sobbed allowing Ratchet to begin checking his valve panel hearing him curse the worst he’s ever sounded as he let it slip that what came from Rodimus was fluid he didn’t know mixed with blood.

“Frag! Ratty whats wrong with him?!”

“Damnit Drift I don’t know!”

That made the room grow silent as Rodimus panted, accepting Drift lift him up and lean his weight onto the swords mech as he panted. Optics close as he felt a moment of relief.

He felt disoriented, overheated, tired, exhausted and in the worst pain he’s ever felt.

He shifted a little when he felt the beginning signs of pain coming and he knew he couldn’t handle being on his back or sitting half upright as he was so he shifted himself and Drift and Ratchet immediately asked him what was wrong.

“End..bed..end..” He panted the words out hoping they understood and when the two began to carefully move him to the end of the bed, he thanked them the best he could before gripping Drifts servo and squeezing in pain when another painful pulse rippled through his entire body making him grit his denta in a long whine and groan that turned growl at the end.

Ratchet was frantic running scan after scan as Drift tried to tell him to breathe and while he understood, he was tired and overheated and the words weren’t helping. For some reason he felt like he needed to have his knees on the berth and he needed Drift holding his front or at least up there with him.

He was shifting before he realized, stopping when another painful pulse stabbed him this time making him whimper and cry in embarrassment as his waste tanks opened and he pissed himself.

Ratchet was still scanning him frantically and got so angry he ripped the device from his arm and began to feel on Rodimus’s chassis plating near his spark before stopping to help Rodimus shift so he had his knees on the edge of the berth and Drift was holding him from the front while Ratchet held his sides and thats when he felt how tight they were. He’d never experienced anything like this and he was terrified because he didn’t know how to help and he was terrified they were losing their conjunx.

Drift was shedding tears as he tried to soothe Rodimus who held onto him and gripped his servo at the next painful pulse. Something about this one felt different and he was still apologizing out of breath for pissing on himself while Ratchet and Drift were trying to soothe him that it was okay when he felt something kick, actually kick, him from the inside and move down making him gasp out a sob.

He couldn’t breathe out the word, what, fast enough before another heavy strangled tightening gripped his tanks and something in his processor told him to bear down, the same voice of the mech who looked physically like him, and he was suddenly gritted his denta on the next pulse as Ratchet held his sides and Drift his front while holding him up in a close hug.

Rodimus gripped Drifts servo and bore down feeling something move down and he stopped venting as he did so, letting his whole frame sag once he stopped and thats when Ratchet moved down after Drift yelped from how tight Rodimus gripped his hand.

“Kid, whats wrong, talk to me, please,” Ratchet got down and looked at Rodimus valve when Rodimus suddenly bore down again and Ratchet didn’t know what to do so he let him.

He felt Rodimus’s tanks and felt that the top was hard, harder than what was physically possible for their species and he felt fear spike up in him all over again. He was running so many scenarios in his processor that he all but blue screened for a klik when Rodimus bore down once more and screamed, as he put a servo on his valve and his optics popped open with new tears.

“Roddy! Whats wrong?! Roddy?!”

Ratchet gently moved Rodimus servo, the first movement he’s done this past hour that wasn’t bearing down in pain while he sat uselessly behind him watching, and felt along the swollen and painful looking valve only for his optics to bulge out when he felt something.

“Primus! Kid! What is this?!”

“Fuck Ratchet! What is it?!”

“I don’t know! But it’s coming out!”

Rodimus gripped Drifts servo again and struggled to bear down. He was exhausted and the pain was too much. This was too much.

“Kid? Kid! Ya gotta stay awake! For whatever this is ya gotta stay awake!”

“Roddy? Roddy! Wake up Roddy! Come on wake up!”

He groaned feeling the two lower him onto the berth on his back and he whined feeling pain wracking him worse than before as Drift slapped his face plates to wake him up and Ratchet pressed on his chassis opening it up and lifting his nozzles to keep his spark going.

“Tired,” he barely got out as his vision went in and out.

“We know Roddy, we know. But you gotta wake up and then when this is over you can sleep as much as you want but for now you gotta wake up!”

“Come on kid! Don’t do this to us! You gotta wake up kid! You gotta live, please!”

Rodimus felt himself intaking air as Ratchet made his spark strengthen and he felt their tears on his face plates making him open his optics.

He hated seeing them cry and he hated being the reason…maybe he could try one more time?

He pictured the mech who looked down at him with so much love and the mech who first laid eyes on him as the other mech screamed and soon he was screaming too before cooing.

‘Huh,’ his processor felt something click but he didn’t through the exhaustion.

He shifted himself tiredly and with their help he sat up and shakily pulled his legs up and put a servo on one knee when Ratchet lifted them for him and he felt Drift sit behind him, putting his legs beside his to help them stay up. Rodimus gripped his servo and Ratchet stayed near his valve as he put a servo on his tanks feeling how impossibly tight it had become as Rodimus inhaled and pushed.

Pushed as hard as he could feeling something move further down and suddenly it felt like he was on fire the second time he bore down.

He couldn’t stop the agonizing scream he let out.

It didn’t even sound like him.

The sound of it stunned the two mechs with him and before he could apologize or do anything besides let his spark spin, he was pushing again feeling something press against his valve as he screamed bloody murder.

He was sure he crushed Drift’s servo with how tight he was gripping and shaking it but the mech didn’t say anything, just held him and let him crush it as he pushed again and heard Ratchet gasp as if Primus himself had gifted them something wonderful.

“Keep..keep pushing kid! Keep pushing! Its..its..yer almost done Rodimus, oh primus, yer almost done,” he beamed catching the two off guard.

Rodimus was too busy pushing but Drift was able to ask, “ratty? What is it? What is…primus..”

Drift could see past Rodimus since he was the taller of the two and he could see why Ratchet was crying and smiling for an entirely new reason.

With a vocal shattering shout, Rodimus gave the last bit of strength he had into this one last push and he felt the ring of fire covering his valve and frame slip free of him and dropped into Drift’s frame crying from an over abundance of emotions.

Nothing registered to him for a nano klik until he pushed out something that felt squishy and thick and he heard Drift and Ratchet gasp and then…and then a cry rang out in the room. A cry that made him open his optics and start crying for an entirely new reason.

He struggled so much to lift himself but Drift did it for him and Ratchet brought the crying, screaming, flailing, little bundle to him. Allowing him to cradle them in his arms and look at them. Really look at them as he held the reason his frame changed. The reason they worried for a year and some months. The very reason he was in endless pain for so many hours.

A sparkling.

A real, crying, tiny, strong engine sparkling that was all protoform and no metallico just yet.

Flailing little arms and legs in his hold, with unclear optics that looked just like Drifts shape and Ratchets color with beginning helm finials like Drift and heavy weight like Ratchet.

A sparkling.

Their sparking.

“Oh my gosh..Roddy..you were sparked..all this time you were sparked…”

Drift looked at their sparkling like they hung the stars and Ratchet hadn’t stopped crying since he realized.

“We have a sparkling Ratty! We’re sires! Oh my gosh we’re sires!”

Drift’s em field was drowning the room in happiness just like Ratchets and all Rodimus could do was cry in happiness as he held them.

“My bitty,” he sobbed, “you’re my bitty,” he wailed hugging them close. Finally understanding the memory flux.

“I love you so much,” he cried, “I love you so much,” he sobbed, kissing their helm and counting their digits before looking at their spark. It looked exactly like his own.

He felt fear and the two were on guard thinking he was having another when he shared the memory flux through the bond.

They suddenly understood his fear.

It was kept quiet and only high command and first aid knew that Rodimus had just emerged a sparkling from his tank.

The two cleaned their berth as Rodimus held their sparkling, allowing them to feed from Rodimus nozzles that began to leak energon milk. Megatron stood guard outside with Minimus listening on their comms as Ratchet scoured the forbidden archives and found information on tank carriers and how functionalists offlined them all save for a few. They hid their existence and didn’t teach medics about them. Thats why Ratchet couldn’t detect them and thats why Rodimus didn’t know.

Ratchet said a whole slew of words none knew existed and when he left to call the high council, they knew many would disappear for a while.

The crew was alerted that a sparkling was on board but not how they emerged.

Rodimus was immediately confined to berth rest and Ratchet manually checked him over while he was asleep.

Drift was holding their sparkling as Ratchet gave Rodimus an actual diagnosis and planned for a special energon diet to make up for the metals he was low on that their sparkling soaked up.

“He really grew a sparkling and we didn’t even know,” Drift let their sparkling grab hold of his digit and laughed quietly when Ratchet stole their sparkling with a smile.

“They’re beautiful,” Ratchet smiled, going with Drift to lay beside Rodimus who was knocked out cold.

“I’d do anything for them,” Drift smiled, kissing their delicate helm.

“We owe the kid big time,” Ratchet half joked.

“Absolutely,” Drift smiled, inhaling the scent of their sparkling with Ratchet.

A grumble from Rodimus and the two rubbed the side of his tender tanks and he sighed going back to sleep.

“I can’t wait til he wakes up. Then we can think of names,” Drift whispered giddy.

“Let the kid sleep,” Ratchet smiled kissing their sparklings tummy, “he’s more than earned it.”

“Mm yeah,” Drift smiled, “he has.”

-

[bones4thecats]

you can also do Orion pax/Optimus prime x cybertroniana reader, both were a couple before the war, and they still follow him on Earth

TFP! Optimus Having A Longtime S/O

Character: Optimus Prime (Transformers Prime) Requester: @zinnia1506 A/N: I love this trope. Just a calm and nonchalant boyfriend x his loving and slightly-feral S/O! Anyways, I hope you like this. ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: The ending of the show and Predcons Rising Film ⚠️

Fun fact: I wrote this listening to Lion King/Guard songs😂

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»»——————————-　 Optimus Prime 　——————————-««

⚔️ Optimus doesn't have that many people left, at least people that he knows that are currently alive. He knew more friends were deceased than alive basically

⚔️ Though, he does have someone alive that he cares the most about; his adorable S/O. You.

⚔️ Meeting back when he was still Orion Pax and a young data clerk working inside of the Iacon and you were the current Grand Diplomat of Alpha Trion's rule as Cybertron's Council's head

⚔️ You had to deliver some information in pads to the place to get organized, and when the young bot smiled and allowed you inside to organize them to how Alpha Trion wished, you began to ask about his life

⚔️ As you began to speak from time-to-time whenever you visited with more classified documents, a bond was formed quick. While many solar cycles passed, the pair of young bots were ogled on by many elders, especially Orion's friend, Megatronus, and your boss, Alpha Trion

⚔️ You were there when Megatronus, now Megatron, was denied in favor of Orion. And you were right by his side when the war blasted off and you soared away with his small team to Earth in hopes of finding something to help with the war and your home planet

⚔️ And while you two would spend many of your days by one another, as the war progressed, that was becoming harder and harder. Thankfully, your teammates would get you two to spend time together by taking some work away from your servos

⚔️ Now, when it comes to missions, you guys almost always go together. Very rarely are you apart in battle. And whenever you go without him, he keeps solid contact with you, and whenever he doesn't get a decent reply, he gets worried beyond recognition

⚔️ During the time fighting against Megatron for the final time, you were help hostage with Ratchet. Being held not for assistance in finalizing the synthetic energon, but for your information on fixing Cybertron, in which you told Megatron to piss off and jump down a hole to a scrapheap

⚔️ Unlike Ratchet, you weren't given to Predaking to kill, rather, you were held in a cell surrounded by Vehicon soldiers. In a matter of minutes, you had gone from acting unconscious to wrapping your legs around on soldiers neck from behind and killing all around you. Think of that scene from The Suicide Squad (2021) when Harley broke out

(Here's a link for reference: Link) - warnings for A LOT blood and death!

⚔️ Optimus was very pleased when he saw both you and Ratchet okay, but when he saw a Vehicon attempt attacking you, he blasted him to the Well of the Allspark. Despite this, you fought brilliantly against the many soldiers against you

⚔️ You also showed a new depth of rhythmicity, from attacking Megatron from behind as Optimus took the front. And before you were knocked aside roughly and your sparkmate was hanging onto the Nemesis, everyone, including Decepticons, were shocked at how in-sync you two were. You really were sparkmates

⚔️ Bumblebee then killed Megatron, making you leap in joy and help him get your sparkmate up and onto the ship's base. You held the mech closely as you cheered with the rest of your team about the win against the Cons

⚔️ Throughout the rest of your lives together, you spent it fighting against Unicron. And while it was hard for you to say goodbye to your lover of many hundreds of years, you couldn't help but shed a tear when his red, white, and blue spark spun around you and acted as if he was pecking your forehead

⚔️ The others watched with smiles as you kissed the spark before watching it fly away. Ratchet patted your shoulder as Bee and the other, including Knockout, gathered around you in a large group hug. You were a family no matter what, thanks to the mech you called your one and only...

"I love you, Y/N..."

[transformers-spike]

Out of all the TFP Decepticons (or even the Autobots), who do you think would want the most kids with their (female) human significant other?

Man this gets even better if we interpret this as a complete genetic fuckery where the bots aren't even supposed to reproduce this way Megatron is the type who wants to have a cake and eat it too, so you know his greedy ass wants more than one kid. But for now he's distracted trying to figure out how parenting works and making sure he doesn't crush his extra small offspring. Watch him invent Cybertronian nepotism Starscream uh... probably won't make a good dad, and this goes beyond the whole "being a parent isn't really a thing on Cybertron". He just wants the glory of "discovering" this new mode of reproduction. Parenthood freaks him out. Keep it to one kid, whose life he will be absent from Soundwave wouldn't mind more than one offspring - but have fun being a single parent if he sacrifices himself for Megatron's sake. And if his Lord wants you studied (as long as it doesn't kill you), he will accept on your behalf (Soundwave, you bitch) Shockwave wants would want more kids, but in the name of science. Now watch him enact the most terrifying experiments on other humans (or even his own) and terminate the pregnancies earlier just to study the developmental stages. Knock Out and Breakdown would probably be the only ones able to co-parent even if the other's offspring isn't technically theirs. Even if this doesn't start off as a throuple, it soon becomes one. This will probably lead to a whole "Escaping the Decepticons" plotline because Megatron will want to have tests run on the human and the offspring... Airachnid is... definitely up there when it comes to wanting more offsprings. Seeing how detached she is from others of her own kind, I feel like she will see this as an opportunity to manipulate her kids into trusting her completely and doing her bidding as they grow up. Like making your own child army... just like a real spider-parent. At this point, just go for Dreadwing. I may be influenced by my "Tell me it's alright to cry" fic, but as long as he gets away from the Decepticons he's going to adopt his human's children. He is not coping well with his trauma, so what better thing to do than adopt a bunch of human offspring in the middle of his worst depressive episode? Anyway, if he makes even 1 child with his partner, he's going to be extremely anxious and protective of it. Think of this:

[sparkleresthold]

I'd like that

-Many characters had their baseline colors before the war took place. Once the Autobots won (and directly because of their methods) Cybertron was plunged into a permanent nuclear winter and muted colors became the norm to those who could afford them, usually bots. Everything is either rusting away, flaking or caked in soot, blacks and grays just hide it better.

-Skyfire was initially Starscream's tutor once the latter picked up an interest in Science, he's slightly older than him, but still a kid when they met. They became friends right away.

-Starscream was quite sheltered, and coming from a privileged clan, he hadn't really seen much of the city he was supposed to command one day. Skyfire would help him sneak out every so often, showing him the good and the bad taking place in Vos.

- Skyfire would gently suggest to Starscream that perhaps some of the morals he was taught by Slipstream were wrong. That they weren't inherently better than other frames because they could fly or because they were Vosian, among many other things. Starscream was making some progress on questioning what he considered to be "normal and factual" before the war separated them.

-They would both talk at length about their dreams for the future and even the prospect of exploring Cybertron and beyond, together. In the present, Skyfire still clings onto hope that they might find each other one day.

[keferon]

Titan LL!

Heavens, I love Titan LL.

...You know, since nobody's doing anything, I think I'll try something. Dibs!

.*.*.*.

Lost Light is named after a day of mourning.

He doesn't feel like it.

Perhaps it was a wish made upon the smallest of the youngest batch of Titans, brought online shortly before fires of revolution blazed across Cybertron and it's domains. For the mourning to be the least in the coming times. Perhaps they succeeded, but joke's on them. Lost Light may have been online through the times of grief, but grief does not touch his spark. It's another element of his surrounding, like floating rocks, clouds of solid something, solar winds, the works.

Well, for a given definition of "online", because, he, his batch and some older Titans were moored in random spots in the system, just away from Cybertron itself.

The new batch was mostly stationed in the shadows of Cybertron, in vain hopes of civil war going away quickly. But sometimes, when the fighting peaked and threatened to reach the moons, they were herded away and over to the system's edge, near the border of termination shock. There were a lot of visible stars here. And Primus, there was nothing more Lost Light liked more than those beautiful, beautiful stars.

The first Titans were sparked to carry their Cybertronian brethren beyond the embrace of their homeworld to the stars and defend them on the way. Not all Titans functioned as deep-space transport nowadays, but that was the original idea behind their frametype. Wayfarers.

And just when Lost Light started to go mad between moorings and itched to stretch his warp drive, because Primus and Unicron conspired to punish him specifically for his hubris, the Quintessons struck.

And Titans of Cybertron, eternal guardians they are, stood as the first line. While the little ones below scrambled around and got their priorities and slag-all in order, they stood. And together they withstood successfully. Neither Cybertron nor any planet in it's system fell to the Quintessons. It was not a clean victory, and Quints broke the lines to land incursions, but the Titans weathered enough that the little ones on the grounds were not overwhelmed. They endured the first of storms.

In the end of the beginning, the home system was safe, the civil war was over, and the Titans under the newly united Cybertronian High Command were partially reassigned to the outer fronts.

Now, Lost Light is a tiny Titan. An unusually tiny Titan by Titan standarts. He heard it was because there was a mix-up of vessels for reforging into Titanframes, and his was made from a late shipment two classes below specification.

His largest configuration houses in theory a thousand crewmembers. He prefers his smallest, which should hold above a dozen, but he does not have even a dozen of a crew anyway. He is still a Titan, and can comfortably rip into one, two, three Quint ships, but he cannot withstand a dozen, and Primus below, Quint ships in outer space come in waves and swarm like the squids they are. Instead, in this war he does he does best of what he does - he runs. He is small, his warp drives and bridge generators are the best among his batchmates, and he is fast. So he runs.

There's no Quint blockade that can stop him. Perhaps his cargo hold is not the largest, but if he is given a delivery, he will deliver it as soon as possible, come Pit or high tides. There's no escort craft that can keep up with him (and let's be honest, they are already understaffed enough that they simply can't find proper escort for his size), so he runs alone. If the Prime himself needs an express delivery, Lost Light is the Titan for the job.

He sees a lot of stars on his runs. He is pretty sure some of them are at least unclaimed, and some may be uncharted at all, so he marks them all on his maps. For later! Once the war ends, the beautiful, beautiful stars are his! He amasses a lot of maps, colors and marks them in the brightest hues his software comes with.

And some little ones even ask after the maps. Not like he hides them or something.

So, when the Prime calls, he comes.

Prime waits for him in the hanger personally. Together with the usual retinue, very much less usual very large pile of maps, boards and documents, a Perceptor hidden behind the pile of stuff (Xanthium talks about her favorite gunner a lot, when they have time to catch up), some twitchy engineer and his frequent passenger of express ferry Head Tactician Prowl.

Who has something very tiny enthusiastically crawling on him. Something so tiny, he has to recalibrate his inner and outer sensors for recordicon contact. His optics were hit in bot mode by rocks larger! Which were sometimes crawling with assorted space crustaceans! Come to think of it, thos crustaceans moved similarly...

And, because he is better at acceleration than braking, first thing Lost Light does is voice this observation.

"Prowl, sir, you've got crabs"

...

That was a start of a wonderful working relationship. Once they calm the tiny organic down from laughing, that is. It's name is Jazz, and it needs a ride home. Home which is besieged by Quintessons, and likely is near a fortified outpost, if not a starbase.

Strictly speaking, usually Titans are kept apart from organics, because they are usually very small, and tend to rot and fossilize. But since Lost Light is also very small, he got a direct invitation to an organic planet and immediately engaged his internal environmental system to produce enough oxygen. This is a chance of a lifetime!

Which brings him to his current... Problem?

The thing is, Jazz apparently has comrades. They pilot simulacrum frames specialized in Quint killing, which is very much respectable. And Lost Light's alt-mode's hangar bay may be a little tight in this configuration, but still compatible with them.

The issue is, one of those simulacrums which Lost Light got to shelter, a pleasantly painted one (flame patterns are always in vogue! No matter what anybody says!), appears to have broken down. Which made the organic inside very upset. At least he thinks it's upset, he is not very good at reading organics. Those "humans" do have fields, but they are very dull in comparison to Cybertronian ones.

The little organic with great taste is shouting what appears to be obscenities at unresponsive frame and alternates this with begging. Lost Light is floundering in his processor. The organic performs some indecipherable actions towards a fuel line of some sort with a tiny wrench. He's been at it for hours. None of the others from Jazz's makeshift warband returned yet.

This means Lost Light is responsible as the hosting Titan. Lost Light is usually alone. He does not quite know how to host other Cybertronians for prolonged periods of time, let alone organics. He hopes he maintains a nice oxygenated atmosphere.

He cannot watch this anymore. He has to gather all his confidence in his circuits and do something. Like talk to an organic without Prowl or the twitchy engineer (Swear? Swole? Swire? Swalter?) present. And, well, he'll figure how to decelerate later!

"Little one, do you require any assistance? I do have an internal welder somewhere..."

The organic startles, almost falling from it's precarious perch at the simulacrum's locked elbow joint, catches itself in time, and glances around. Then it glances up. And around again.

"I haven't hit my head that hard, yes? Is there someone here?"

"Well, yes? I mean no offence, but you're inside me"

Silence answers him, quickly broken by laughter. He remembers Jazz laughing. It is a similar laugh. He thinks he likes this laugh more.

"Well, I did not expect the ship to be speaking too. I really should not be surprised after this whole month"

At least the organic isn't despairing anymore? Lost Light thinks he can see a smile on it's face if he strains the camera.

"Technically, I'm a Titan. I'm a ship in the same way Deadlock is a,,, what you call small ground vehicle... Car? If I want to, I can be a building."

"Wait, but if you're the ship... How big do you guys come?!"

"Very. Now, little one, do you want my welder or not?"

Another wave of laughter follows.

"I do have a name!"

"You did not introduce myself"

"Cheeky. And yet, you did not introduce yourself either, big ship"

"My designation is Lost Light, and I'm the best Titan Courier this side of the galaxy"

The organic seems to finally locate his internal camera and so it points at it with it tiny wrench. Lost Light thinks it likes it's smile too.

"Well, nice to meet'cha, Lost Light. Name's Hot Rod. Now, about that welder..."

Lost Light rummages in his inventory for his favorite welder, mountable on a cargo manipulator. It is surprisingly elusive.

"I have it, I have it.... somewhere. It's been a long time since I patched up myself."

"...You patch yourself up often?"

"Nowadays not much, I'm a very good runner, and... Aha! There it is!"

Hot Rod look very, very happy to see the welder-wielding cargo manipulator. He is so much smaller than the tiniest little ones he carried. He reminds Lost Light of something that escapes his processor.

"Thanks, big ship. I hate ruptured lines. God knows when Ratch and that Swerve guy will be back"

"I'm not that big, you know. And I'm glad to be of assistance"

Despite pointed critique from the organic called Ratchet later on, Lost Light considers his skills with a welder in his internal cargo manipulator arms to be above average.

Hot Rod thinks so too, and ire of a medic shared is misery halved in Lost Light's books.

And then it hits him.

He reminds Lost Light of those beautiful, beautiful distant stars.

Lost Light prepares a very tiny datapad for a very big map.

.*.*.*.

...And here it is. I got possessed. Guest-starring my basic knowledge of astrophysics and bad jokes.

OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS TAKE ON THEM SO MUCH

[doctorsilverhead]

Hey there!

This is my very first req on tumblr cause I'm just too shy to ask anything. So yay!

May I request for a Bayverse Optimus with human fem reader? I don't know, just fluffy things. But honestly, I prefer Optimus being an alien dad bot to the reader. So like- fatherly fluffy things, you know?

Then again, I feel like bayverse Optimus need some more love! I'm basically begging you for our ruthless yet gentle leader!

Make it after TLK event please! (Just pretend he didn't go home to the Cybertron yet lol)

Thank you before that!

More Than Meets the Metal: When Optimus Found a Heartbeat (Bayverse Optimus Prime X Human Reader)

In the aftermath of the harrowing events of The Last Knight, the world found itself in a state of flux, grappling with the revelations of an ancient war that had spilled onto Earth's doorstep. Amidst the chaos, a beacon of hope emerged in the form of Optimus Prime, the noble leader of the Autobots, who had once again proven his unwavering commitment to protecting humanity.

For one young woman, the presence of Optimus Prime took on a deeper, more personal significance. She had been drawn into the whirlwind of events, witnessing firsthand the sacrifices made by these extraordinary beings from another world. In the aftermath, she found herself forging an unexpected bond with the towering Autobot commander, one that transcended the boundaries of species and culture.

Optimus Prime, with his ancient wisdom and compassionate spark, recognized the profound impact the events had left on the young woman's psyche. In a gesture that defied his imposing stature, he extended a gentle, fatherly presence, offering solace and guidance in a world that had been forever altered.

Optimus would regale her with tales of Cybertron's golden age, painting vivid pictures of a world teeming with life and wonder.

In turn,Y/N would share her own stories, her hopes, and her dreams, finding solace in the unwavering patience and understanding of her alien father figure. Optimus would listen intently, offering sage advice and encouragement, his words carrying the weight of eons of experience.

Optimus would take her on excursions, introducing her to the wonders of the natural world. They would venture into pristine forests, where he would explain the ecosystem, or gaze up at the stars, as he recounted the vast expanse of the cosmos and the myriad worlds that lay beyond.

He worried like a father hen, constantly reminding you of potential dangers. "Stay within the perimeter, little one," he'd say, his voice a deep baritone that echoed through the yard. You'd roll your eyes, but a smile would always touch your lips. He meant well, always looking out for you.

Sometimes, you'd read to him while he repaired himself, stories of faraway lands and fantastical creatures. He'd listen intently, his blue optics flickering with amusement at the lighter tales and dimming with concern at the darker ones.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the junkyard in a warm glow, you presented Optimus with a gift – a small, hand-painted firefly encased in resin. "For protection," you said, a little shyly. He carefully took the trinket, his optics softening. "Thank you, little one," he murmured, a hint of wonder in his voice. "It reminds me of you. Small, but with a light that shines bright even in the darkest of times." He attached the firefly to his chest plate, close to his spark chamber. It was a small gesture, but in the desolate landscape, it spoke volumes. It was a symbol of the unexpected family you had found in each other, a testament to the enduring power of hope and love, even in a world determined to extinguish it.

As the world around them continued to heal and rebuild, their bond only grew stronger, a testament to the enduring power of compassion and understanding. Optimus Prime had become more than just a protector of humanity; he had become a father figure, a mentor, and a friend, offering a sense of belonging in a universe that had suddenly become infinitely larger and more wondrous.

[tyriq-edits]

Figures dancing gracefully…

… Across my memory

Megop - Anastasia AU

Had this idea yesterday but the basic idea is:

Optimus, son of Megatronus and Prima Prime and the youngest of the primes, was but a sparkling when Sentinel, the Prime’s former chief advisor, betrayed them and all of the primes were murdered in an attack by the Quintessons.

Only Alpha Trion and Optimus managed to escape, but got separated while fleeing from the Quintessons and Sentinel.

Optimus then obviously loses all his memories shortly after and grows up under the name Orion Pax in an orphanage. So once he becomes a young adult a travels to Iacon and sneaks into the now abandoned Palace of the Primes (cuz he’s a nosy little bastard and still very much obsessed with history).

There he crosses paths with D-16, a con artist trying to find a bot that looks like the missing Optimus Prime. For Alpha Trion had managed to survive that faithful attack of the Quintessons all those cycles ago and is currently living in exile in Kaon. But not only that, the old Prime, convinced Optimus is still alive, had promised riches beyond compare to whoever would find Optimus Prime.

D-16 this instantly takes note of Orion’s uncanny resemblance to the missing Prime and strings the young Transformer along for his plan to trick Alpha Trion into believing he had found his lost family member.

Sentinel, on the other hand, had since become the new ruler of Cybertron after the death of the Primes. So when Sentinel hears through the grape vines that Optimus, the rightful heir to the throne might still be alive, starts sending out his troops to find the young Prime.

And so Orion Pax and D-16 travel to Kaon to meet Alpha Trion while being pursued by Sentinel’s men.

I am unsure yet who will be Vladimir. The most obvious choice would be either Elita-1 or Bumblebee but Jazz might also be an option.

Let me know if you’d want to see more of this AU. Like maybe some Text posts regarding the story, or maybe more moodboards or some video edits.

I also want to note at this point that I do not know if I will ever be able to actually turn this idea into a full on fanfiction due to my rather busy lifestyle. So if anyone wishes to take this very basic AU idea and run with it to create their own Megop Anastasia Fanfiction, you are MORE than welcome to do so. Afterall it’s not like i own the rights to either Anastasia or Transformers