#informative mtmte

[noodleblade]

My friend, gimme ur thinks. I wanna know how you think Brainstorm would react if Percy actually flat out said he loves him.

He would explode.

No but for real, I think skepticism would overpower Brainstorm. There's a level of self-consciousness under all his egotism, and I like to think its quite vast. He'd be immediately in self-doubt, even if he knows rationally Perceptor isn't the type to lie, especially when its about his feelings. He can't help but think the worst and because he knows better than everyone, hearing anything different doesn't go over well.

Even if they've been in a relationship for years, there is still creeping self-doubt so being confronted with the blatant opposite would have him shrivel up. He'd deflect, he'd doubt, he may even run and hide because Perceptor certainly isn't going to allow Brainstorm to misinterpret him. Perceptor is nothing, if not clear, intentional and when he wants to be, persistent.

It's....a tense few days- maybe even a couple of weeks -before Brainstorm finally lets the information sink through the various layers of self-doubt.

After that, he's a mess. Giddy, impossibly annoying and smug, very smitten.

Then he realizes he'd acted like a complete dumbass for about a week and very uncool, unself-actualized, and like a complete loser in front of Perceptor.

And then he explodes.

#honestly once the information sinks in he is so fucking annoying about it #to his friends to his coworkers to perceptor #“oh percy don't get distracted by your admiration for me” #< he says nearly dropping every explosive chemical known to man after Perceptor gives him the most chaste pat on the shoulder #simpatico #brainstorm #perceptor #mtmte #transformers #chefbeepo #asks #i probably should have waited an hour or two to answer this after waking up but you wil get my sleepy brain thoughts NOW

[yasbeych]

please view these canonically married robo wifes who I love so much

#transformers #maccadam #MTMTE #lug #anode #what is their ship name??? #in any case they are couple goals #all I want is for my silly bastard wife to blacksmith my soul to save it #my art #LUGNODE #thank u for informing me fellow citizens💕💕

[witchofthesouls]

Mtmte Rung crushing hard on cybertronian reader, reader is a long forgotten deity that used to be Primus (Rung)'s amica. He love them for a looooooong time and just fall harder each second but he still struggle to confess, Poor dude.

So... my take on how gods love, anyone? Be warned, this will hurt.

Warning: Implied torture and massive death toll by divine rage

There are three certainties that Rung carries with him:

1. He hails from the Pious Pools.

2. You and him, no matter the distance, are inseparable.

3. You are his "darling," and he is "old friend."

_______

If Rung can be described in one word, then mechs would ask, "Who?"

Mechs would struggle for a while, trying to recall a Ring, Wrong, Rang, Wong... and then remember a quiet mech.

Forgettable.

If anyone would ask Rung himself, then he would reply with a crisp, no need for another thought, "Consistent."

Not only he had survived Age after Age, Prime after Prime. Rung had survived coups, hostile takeovers, and purges. He had walked away from crashes and assassinations that destroyed everyone and everything else in the vicinity.

Dented. Bruised. And in several cases, headless. But alive. Spark too stubborn to snuff out.

Consistent.

"Do you remember?" You ask him. Unlike himself where he never had an urge to change his frame -not his color, his alt-mode, or his spectacles- you have the frame of a submarine. This time.

You take so many faces and frames that he had stopped counting after the thirtieth official model ship he built, but he knows the rhythm and feel of your presence. It draws him like a Titan to a rich vein of Energon and mineral mines.

"Remember what?" Rung asks, tone mild and pleasant as this is an old, established game between you and him.

You hum and his spark shivers. It wants. It yearns. It-

(-aches to be cradled by lapping waves and gentle currents, it remembers how you played with volcanic vents with teasing, crushing pressure. And how between you and him, it heralded a new brilliant era to a desolate, lonely planet.)

-flutters that he holds his breath, even after all these vorns, when you lean down, spinal struts clicking to maximum allowance to nuzzle the top of his helm.

"What we were before, old friend," your words vibrate his circuitry as your bulk covers his frame. You're both burning and freezing and he enjoys the strange phenomena no other way.

"You mean when you fished me from that pool?" He says into the plating over your spark. The gesture is highly intimate to this day's standards, but you and he have been together since that morning when he splashed and sputtered his way out of hot springs.

Rung likes the word 'consistent' because it implies he's always in tune with you in one way or another.

_______

This is another certainty that Rung keeps unspoken and thus a secret to everyone else:

He loves you.

He had loved you since he laid his blurry sight upon your frigate-frame in Pious Pools.

In a far kinder, more understanding world, he would proclaim you Conjunx.

But the world at the time was dangerous and decreed all those that went to the sea and air unable to form marital spark bonds, in case of an emergency that would cause the other half to drop dead from the backlash.

For all his fascination with the sea, he never felt the urge to venture into it. Preferring to soak in the pools or stand at the shoreline.

You, on the other hand, were made for it. You sail into the horizon and delve into the depths, and you return with gifts for him: wonderful rocks and sea glass, delicate shells, samples of faraway delicacies, and memories. You and Rung would sit side-by-side, cables inside each other's data ports as he gently cruises through the memories of your time as you study the oceanic wildlife from the massive land-skippers to the gentle phantom lights to colorful reefs with ever-changing hues depending on the species living in their protective hauls.

And Rung would never allow himself to chain you, so he keeps it to himself.

It's one moment after a different age where everything and everyone must be categorized that he tentatively raises the idea of you and him being recognized as Amica.

You said 'yes' as a handsome Seeker in Crystal City. You and he returned to meet again in Pious Pools to complete the records. You're back in that frigate frame that's no longer in production, coated in rust and salt, oily barnacles stuck on your plates. Dangerously close to obsolete.

You're as beautiful as always.

_______

Once after a game, you asked him to go with you. Where he doesn't know, but-

"If I went with you," he asks, voice rasping as he listens to the sounds of crashing waves and gulls calling inside your chassis. "Would you let me go?"

Your smile is a secretive thing. Hungry and soft, he can hear a chasm inside you opening up, water rushing like a rapid fall, and he tastes salt and oil on his glossa.

"Do I ever allow anything to escape my grasp?" You chuckle, rich and deep as the endless estuaries of the coastal regions, optics holding the reflection of both distant stars and abysmal vents and he sees the faint images of countless mechs and femmes running upon ghost ships.

________

Rung doesn't go.

He cannot bring himself to regret as he has a life on land, but he stands on the shoreline to watch you sail away or sink into the waves.

________

Rung enjoys models that come with bottles. Not only an excellent way to store his ship models, but he also enjoys a piece of Pious Pools folklore. He whispers a message into the glass and throws it into an available spring or the sea.

When he travels on starships, he fills a sink to the brim and sinks the bottle into it.

It disappears.

He gets a piece of shell or sea glass in return.

(The ships are made of the metal of Cybertron and he feels at ease upon them. You always disliked traveling into spaces without the sea, so traveling into space, although an ocean in and of itself, is not something you felt compelled for.)

________

"Call me," you murmur into his throat, and he burns and freezes with every word and you lap up the condensation in quick darts of your glossa. "And I shall come, old friend."

"I'll keep it in mind, darling." He replies with good cheer and tilts his neck and you follow his quiet allowance. You never complained about how grit and slit could be found in his seams and crevices, how he tastes so conflicting between sweet oil, rich minerals, laden clay, and heavy metals.

Pleasure and yearning wash over him as you make your way downward, exploring every inch of his frame as if you had the chance before, suckling and lapping every bit of him. You croon as he wraps his thighs over your head, your appetite is voracious as always as you put your tendency to burn and freeze to other lovely applications.

In the distance, lanterns dot the skyline and act as a stand-in for the stars themselves. You hold his hand and he squeezes it firmly, cracking the thick shell of salt-crust and old sandy mud.

He lifts your hand to his mouth and bites off a piece of that shell to swallow, and your expression melts his plating and sends his spark to flare as a supernova.

______

When Rung falls into Functionists' care, he does remember and he refuses to call you.

He couldn't bear witness if you fell as well.

______

Outside, you howl and turn squalls into devastating tempests and typhoons across the planet. Rung's plating cracks in the dry, sterile air as Energon oozes through the crusting repairs; and earthquakes shake each city-state down to the foundations as you seethe and seep deeper and deeper enough to break apart villages and hamlets, islands and coasts. Rung starves just as you starved countless (millions, billions, more as no one could even measure the astronomical impact it had on an ecological scale as the terrain warps and potential hot spots died before igniting).

You disrupt all chains of transportation across land, air, and sea. Waves ate all cargo ships and submarines. Paved roads that held for millennia after millennia crumble under landslides and tsunamis, turning safe zones into dangerous sinkholes and flashfloods consuming all in its path. Aerials, no matter the speed, protection, or formation, disappear without a trace as wind and water take them all. Not even mining and space operations were safe as you, with tireless, endless cruelty, had patiently worked to collapse Cybertron's mantle and claim all those lost sparks with every brutal drop and trickle.

By drowning, by suffocation, by famine, by frost, by so many ways to die that terrified souls had believed that Unicron did not come from above but below.

And you feasted on their fear and suffering, raging on their audacity to give tributes to a benevolent Primus when they were the ones that trapped him away from you!

How dare they?! How dare they?! How dare they?!

(In your dream, he pleads for them and you cannot forgive them for destroying the one that loved these fickle mortals. Your warmer, steadier half is missing, and you went mad and savage in your grief. Merciless and indiscriminate with your violent destruction as you allowed him to convince you to walk as a mech rather than remain interconnected to all yet distant.)

Eventually, this period, with its immense deprivation, widespread turmoil, and massive extinction toll across all waves of life was hailed to be the Age of Wrath.

________

They deem him an ornament -a pretty yet unfunctionless bauble, except the label itself- and he's freed.

Rung must walk on his own as he no longer qualifies for their dubious 'care', and no one looks when he crawls outside.

One guard unkindly kicks his back as he stops on the steps, too exhausted and unable to move, even when the paved ground taunts him by several yards.

The pede disappears.

"Follow me, old friend." It's a plea and a demand, and he says nothing when you scoop him up, infinitely patient and gentle, and he silently cries from the overwhelming, nostalgic scent of salt and sulfur with underlying rust and the texture of gritty plating pressing on his face.

He's submerged in a pool and he can't recall where a hot spring has opened nearby (or did that much time have passed already?), and he sighs at the rushing sting into his old wounds. He's placed in a carved nook and you remain before him. Rung is cradled by earth, set deep into it, and water flows around him.

You don't press your hard into him, but enough that when you croon, it vibrates into him, and he cries because it's a strange, haunting melody that taunted his dreams since the beginning of his scattered, faraway memories.

And it always begins with you.

(He loves you.

He has loved you since the beginning when there were only two that split in half. One went away, and the other stayed. The half that remained divided further to keep itself company in the all-consuming loneliness.

And the nameless currents of the sea sang to a desolate Primus before anything else walked upon the planet.)

________

"Do you remember?"

"Remember what?"

"What we were before, old friend?"

"When you fished me out, darling?"

________

Rung carves out a message upon a moon, and it isn't just for the remaining crew of the Lost Light who will forget him.

'Darling,' he calls out, and he pulls upon the tides of Cybertron from the gravity of Luna-1.

'Old friend,' you respond, following him in an endless dance, and spell out in the numerous dialects of 'I love you' with icebergs and the phantom lights of various creatures during mating seasons, all the languages you and he had learned since the beginning.

(The ignited hotspot from Luna-1 go to Cybertron, and many of them will settle by the coasts, fascinated by the new phenomena.)

#ask #transformers #transformers idw #idw #mtmte #rung #reader insert #primus #Cybertronian!reader #gods and goddesses #cybertronian culture #cybertronian biology #torture #horror #violence #valveplug #maccadam #my writing #you took the forms and frames of all that perished in your domain #you remember but Rung doesn't beacause of Information Creep fucking up everything #There's a reason why Adaptus never returned to Cybertron and it's you #The sea is both same and different #You remember and my god #You made sure to spell out all the ways you would torture Adaptus for his audacity with icebergs and kelp and mating lights

[transingthoseformers]

And then we loop back to a favorite question of mine: was the great Cybertronian war inevitable? And if so, in how many universes is it?

#maccadam #transformers #hhghjhjjgehf this is when i get to have fun #because #in tfp arguably it's the least inevitable if so #and mtmte is likely the most inevitable #g1 and tfa... fall somewhere in between #I've gotta rewatch cyberverse to determine it but hey i wanna rewatch it anyways #current information on tfe is inconclusive for logical reasons #maybe it's a situation like ww1 and ww2? ww1 supposedly was inevitable and yet ww2 was a direct response to how ww1's end went #i think

[lord-squiggletits]

IDW is hard to read at many points and I have sympathy for those who find it difficult to be motivated to read (given that I've also done a nearly full phase 2/3 reread and still had to skip some stuff), but if people continue to not read the comics and then comment/make fanon and headcanon on things they never read, I'm simply not going to take them seriously. I would think "you should read and enjoy the source material" isn't that unreasonable of an expectation for people who are supposed to be FANS but I suppose in today's fandom culture that just makes me a dirty dirty gatekeeper

#squiggposting #semi related to previous post but also not #in genral i'm just tired of popular content and headcanon being dominated by ill informed or outright ignorant takes #i'm on my knees begging and pleading ppl just ACTUALLY READ CANON #I promise canon is fun and cool and when you look at it with your own eyes #you will find so many things that tickle your fancy that fandom never told you #bc fandom by nature only proliferates the most popular parts of the story #literally pleading. begging. shitting and crying. please just fucking read canon #and for TF IDW fans that means please read something besides mtmte/ll or at least #have reading comprehension on the things you HAVE read if you insist on only reading two books

[trashhole]

Brainstorm doodles and soundwave on an adventure with laserbeak

#i actually have more photos of their adventure but I might post it separately #also brainstorm is silly I needed to draw him #i love jets and seekers so much #brainstorm brainrot #i painted this while watching g1 and it was an expirience #also soundwave is infact relaying information from the book to laserbeak (father and son moment) #i strive to have the MOST inconsistent blog #transformers #brainstorm #idw mtmte #soundwave tfp #brainstorm mtmte #hanaes scrapheap

[of-nyon]

I wanna to write some Roddy fic but I don't wanna work on my wips, anyone want to send in any prompts? (no nsfw or ocs pls + no guarantee on a timely delivery this is me we're talking about)

Bonus points for rarepairs, rodgalv, or springer/roddy/arcee

Double bonus points for crossovers with any of my handful of other blorbos :)

#i've been poking at ripple because it's really fun #but it's stuck on a scene where deadlock isn't saying or doing anything #while optimus monologues at him #because You Do Not Talk To Cops #anyway i think it's fun if it turns out roddy is a secret megop lovechild in that fic #i think i've found a way to wrangle it #in a way that makes sense #oh also i don't like rodiclash/thunderrod that much #and i'm only really familiar with g1 and mtmte #the rest of the franchise i mostly know via internet osmosis #do with this information what you will

[fawningoveradream]

one feeling I wish I could re-live over again? Relearning and processing transfromers lore and character backstories, per every series/continuity. Also Transformers Wiki is the best, hands down. Never ever ever been on a more helpful information site before. Its clearly made with love and passion for everything transformers related. And the distinct lack of ads blocking your view from deep dive reading also are huge pointers. 

#I say this knowing I spent more than 2 hours rambling mtmte/lost light world building lore of cybertron #cybertronian society #history and the pre and greater part of the autobot-decepticon civil war #along with information on the different mythos for g1/tfa/and tfp #im thankful for my friends in the discord chat #because i love transformers so much #and im thankful that they are fine and support me in telling them all I know about transfromers #also a shoutout for remi if you are seeing this #my transformers brother-in-arms if you will

[in1-nutshell]

Hey, not too long ago. There was a prompt about bot crash landing on to earth and getting adopted by ten year old buddy. If requests are open, might I suggest the same prompt with Rodimus and Drift (separately).

The concept for these two interactions has been stuck in my brain for days.

Rodimus- I'm a dad now, this is my kid.

Magnus- you can barely take care of yourself, how do you expect to take care of a human child.

&

Drift- heeeeyyyyyy Ratchet... how do you feel about kids.

Wow! First request! I haven't put up a message for that yet...BUT consider this the first of many to come. I will be posting when the request will be open and some guidelines as soon after this posted.

Hope you enjoy this and feel free to request!

Rodimus and Drift (separately) accidentally crash lands and is slightly injured on Earth and meets a 10-year-old Human Buddy

SFW, Familial, platonic, mention of injury, Human reader

MTMTE/LL

Rodimus

Rodimus groaned as he sat up feeling slight pain in his struts. He looked around him and nearly did a double take. He was on Earth. It had to be, He recognize those pine trees and fuzzy moss anywhere. Unless he was on some weird simulation, or Swearth again.

He hears a small sneeze and attempts to reach for his blaster before his wrist began to hurt. He prepares for whatever is coming his way.

A small human with a bucket filled with water waddles into his clearing. They take one look at him and waddle their way to his acheing pede and proceed to dump the water on it.

“Cold! That was cold! Why did you do that for?”--Rodimus

“You were overheating. I had to cool you down. The names Buddy by the way Mr. McQueen.”—Buddy

“McQueen? Who—nevermind. My name is Rodimus, rodimus Prime.”--Rodimus

He goes to shake Buddy’s hand but his wrist shot in pain causing him to hiss. Buddy dropped their bucket and reached into their pocket and pulled out 3 Hot Wheel bandaids and with a concentrated face began sticking them all over his servo.

“Uhhh… What are you doing?”--Rodimus

“I’m helping obviously.”--Buddy

“While I appreciate—”--Rodimus

“Shhh! Let the band aids do their thing Mr. Prime.”--Buddy

“Rodimus. Just Rodimus. Anyways where’s your parents? They should be too far.”—Rodimus

“Never met them Rodimus.”--Buddy

“Wait what?”—Rodimus

Rodimus pauses taking in that information in

He tries to lighten the mood a bit and asks Buddy some basic questions he heard that little kids liked answering.

“So, what’s your favorite color?”--Rodimus

“I like orange. Like the one on you, it’s a pretty color.”--Buddy

“It is! I always tell my friends it’s a cool color!”--Rodimus

“Oh! Do you like cheetah’s? They are like, super-duper-fast!”--Buddy

“Don’t know what that is but if its fast then it has to be awsome!”--Rodimus

“Right!”—Buddy

The two eventually fall into a nice conversation until Rodimus notices the sun fall across the horizon. He asks Buddy if they know a place where they could lie low for a bit. Buddy nods and begins walking further into the thick wood.

Rodimus slowly followed in tow.

Buddy eventually comes to an old, abandoned gas station. Good for Rodimus. No other humans to know of his existence. Buddy goes to the back and opens the back garage door. A place for Rodimus, sure a little cramped but still better than sleeping in the thick wood.

Buddy went back in the store and retrieved dozens of trash bags and a sleeping bag for their improv sleepover.

“At a sleep over, you have to tell stories before we go to sleep.”--Buddy

“Any story?”--Rodimus

“Any story.”--Buddy

“Well, I have one. Let me tell you about the time I single handedly wrestled a Sparkeater.”--Rodimus

“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds cool and creepy. Tell me!”--Buddy

To his surprise Buddy was fully interested in his stories. And it was cute to see Buddy fighting to stay awake to hear the rest of the story. They ended up falling asleep, curling next to Rodimus’s leg.

That sound? That’s definitely not Rodimus’s spark screaming at the cuteness before him. Nope, definitely not that.

Rodimus is confident that his team will find him so most of his time is spent with Buddy.

Between telling stories to one another, admitting one to the other of some loneliness before meeting the other. Rodimus defiantly pulls Buddy into a hug after one of those heavy emotion sessions about the past. It’s good for the pair.

It’s now been two weeks since Rodimus had come back to Earth. Buddy decided to take him to their favorite place to look at the stars. A little field not too far from their “home”.

Approaching the clearing, they weren’t expecting Lost Light to appear over the horizon. Rodimus was so happy to see his ship he almost forgot that Buddy was on his shoulder.

“They’re here! They’re here! Oh, I can’t wait to get back to my Captain’s chair!”--Rodimus

“Oh…”--Buddy

“And I can’t wait for you to get a mini chair next to mines!”--Rodimus

“Wait…”

“Yeah, we can have it with orange designs and all. I’m pretty sure Ten won’t have much problem doing the details on the chair.”--Rodimus

Buddy just looks at him in disbelief and in happy tears hugs the side of Rodimus’s helm.

Rodimus finally catching to the reality for Buddy pauses a bit and does his best to hug them back telling them that he wouldn’t leave them even if it made all of his reports disappear.

The Rod Pod touches down and Rodimus wastes no time in running to it with Buddy holding to his chassis.

Magnus was not prepared for Rodimus to show up with a little human.

“Rodimus—”—Ultra Magnus

“Behold the newest addition to the Lost Light!”--Rodimus

“Hi.”--Buddy

“… I’ll get the supplies ready then…”—Ultra Magnus

Rodimus explains the whole story to everyone on the Rod Pod and does the same when he gets back to the ship. Buddy is having the time of their life meeting new friends. Rodimus is glad that he managed to help his friend and hopes to give them a better life than the one they had on Earth.

Drift

Drift wakes up to a cold shudder.

He looks around at his surroundings. It looked like he was in an old barn. A cold old barn with the paint falling off just like the snow outside. He then feels a sharp pain near his pede.

It not his room or the medbay. It wasn’t even a part of the ship. He remembers… the crash… He remembered trying to send one last message to ratchet about his coordinates before he blacked out.

He goes to examine the wound when he hears little footsteps. Drift reaches for one of his swords when a little human came out of one of the barns shadows. They looked like one of the children in Swerve’s human movie night films.

The child had some protective layers on, but clearly not enough for the snow falling. They had a bunch of old miss matched blankets in their hands.

“Hi…My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Hello? My name is Drift.”—Drift

Drift ever dumbfounded waved back before clutching his pede in pain again. Buddy carefully puts down the blankets and slowly moves towards his pede. Drift curious slowly releases his pede and watched the human pull out some sort of wrappings and began wrapping his pede the best they could.

“Buddy, as much as I appreciate the help, that isn’t—”--Drift

“Shh!”--Buddy

“Did- did you just shush me?”--Drift

“Yes, and I’ll do it again. Shh!”--Buddy

They then grabbed the blankets and attempted to… tuck him in?

He thanked them shivering a bit feeling the cold seep in.

The human smiled and left him alone in the barn before falling into a much-needed recharge.

The next morning, Buddy returned to check back and pulled a chair to sit right next to him. The two ended up talking about how Drift had gotten to Earth and how to get him back home. Drift was surprised to see Buddy eager to help him get back home.

“C’mon Drift. Let’s help you get home. And don’t worry I won’t let any evil corrupt government spy take you.”--Buddy

“That sounded oddly specific but thanks?”--Drift

Together the two end up borrowing some tech from a nearby scrap yard to help create a distress beacon. Sure, Drift was by no means an engineer, but he hopes that his time with Perceptor will help him now.

During the next 3 weeks it goes by, Drift learns a bit about Buddy’s life. About them being an orphan and finding haven in the old crumbly barn.

Buddy learns a bit about Drift too. They learn about how he used to be a bad guy before turning good, how he made some new friends on the Lost light, and his misadventures with a medic named Ratchet.

“You really chopped the bad guy’s hands?”--Buddy

“Yeah, the were going to hurt Ratchet. I had to protect him.”--Drift

“He sounds like a nice guy. Wish I could meet him.”--Buddy

It was early dawn when Buddy woke up from a nightmare and came to Drift for comfort.

“You- you just left! You didn’t even say goodbye!”--Buddy

“Buddy, it was all a dream. A bad one. Anyways I could never leave you even if I tried to.”--Drift

“What? What about the Lost Light? What about Ratchet?”--Buddy

“… Would you like to come with me? Mean, You can say no and all—”--Drift

“YES!”--Buddy

Buddy attempts to hug Drift nodding furiously. A tearful confirmation that made the pair happy.

A sudden crackle is heard from outside the barn.

Drift is immediately up, holding Buddy close to his spark and sword in the other servo. Buddy is completely dwarfed in his servo and shakes a bit in the suspense in the air. Drift is prepared to fight whatever is outside of the barn.

Multiple footsteps are heard which only makes Drift’s grip on the sword tighten.

Then the door swings open and Drift kicks down the intruder straight in the chassis pointing the sword at them. Rodimus, on the ground groaning at the sudden attack.

“Geez Drift I know we had our differences but that was a bit harsh don’t you think?”--Rodimus

“Rodimus?”--Drift

“Drift!”--Ratchet

“Ratchet!”--Drift

“Oh thank—is that a human?”--Ratchet

“Hi… I’m Buddy. You must be Ratchet. Drift tells some of the best stories about you.”--Buddy

“Does he now?”--Ratchet

“Uh… Buddy—”--Drift

“Shh!”—Buddy and Ratchet

“I like this kid.”--Ratchet

“Are you guys my parents now?”--Buddy

“What?”—Drift and Ratchet

“What?”—Buddy

And that is how Buddy ended up joining the Lost light and how Drift and Ratchet ended up being their guardians. Never leaving Buddy alone in danger and never feeling cold again.

#transformers x reader #mtmte x reader #idw mtmte #mtmte rodimus #mtmte drift #mtmte ratchet #mtmte ultra magnus #human buddy #maccadam #mtmte x platonic reader

[tinydefector]

TINY-DEFECTOR WORK MASTERLIST

REQUEST & ASK OPEN

Please feed me request they are keeping me sane.

information

1. I WRITE M/M GENDER NEUTRAL READERS OR CANON CHARACTERS I WILL WRITE TRANS MALE.

I am not a Fem writer

2. have the right to not do request if I don't want to.

3. I get a large number of requests, and sometimes they get lost in my inbox.

4. Every three months I will do an inbox clear out. And will save what I'm working on into my drafts.

5. I write as a hobby to keep myself busy, (atm I'm not overly active due to moving house)

it's been a long while since i've written on tumblr. I lost my last account, but I'm hoping to get back into writing fics or oneshots again. Mainly going to be Writing Transformers.

Transformers Live Action -knightverse, ROTB. On occasions I may make Bayvesre content.

Transformers Prime

Transformers Gen 1

Transformers Mtmte, IDW

Character list and links below ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Requests & ask Rules:

I don't tend to close my request unless I get over 30+ of them.

- 1 character per request if you want a longish one shot fic.

- you can make requests for multiples with scenarios but but I tend to keep them short with a few headcannons added in.

- Specify if you want a continuation of a previous fic.

- I will do both human and Cybertronian and occasionally Experimental monster readers.

-if requesting Cybertronian for smut, they have both a valve and spike as I write all Cybertronians with both parts, all cybertronian characters I write have both parts. (I will accept request with the fem bots, I just don't write Fem readers)

- your more than welcome to ask for NSFW, SFW, Angst, fluff and all sorts. I'm pretty chill. All Smut and NSFW content is marked with #valveplug

I write: gender neutral, or Male characters, (I'm not good nor do I like writing fem character, I'm a guy, if I do get fem readers I'm going to write them as gender neutral)

I will do:

- Scenarios

- Yandere and possessive.

- family content

-disabilities (human only)

- Fluff/Angst

- fearplay, mouthplay

-Vore: soft vore/ light vore (may experiment, but very light)

- NSFW, kink:

and Dub-con/ consensual Non-con

size kink 

skin fetish 

hair pulling 

Scent/ smell/ pheromones

Sex pollen/perfume.

silk and ribbon play

cum inflation 

breeding

pet play

Predator/prey

(On occasions will write Alpha/Omega/Beta, I write it rather differently to the classic AOB. But I will only write it on very rare occasions)

vore

fluid play and consumption (paint, energon, oil, cum, spit, lubricant,)

spiking warming

Heart and spark syncing 

new spike and Valve modifications to test on their human lover

(Just ask pretty much)

-Pregnancy

- death request are alright just keep it civil I won't go into details on the deaths.

- The AUs:

First Contact PotatooftheLand

Tasty AU of @callsign-relic

Energy fluid AU - (my silly energy drink transfluid ones)

Human pet

I will NOT do:

-Incest

-Pedophilia

- Self harm

-Minors (exceptions if they are children of the Bots and reader but only exception)

- Don't get angry if I'm not willing to write fem characters, I'm a guy, and I tend to stick with trans content, M/M, or gender neutral, but I'm leanent but respect my boundaries.

Slightly iffy:

- death of parents (I recently lost my mother in an accident so please be aware I that things one's sometimes I won't do due to my own feelings on these fics, while other time I may because it gives me comfort)

I enjoy making silly little one shots or even just sweet little things. I will eventually do up a master list for links once I make more stuff. (Pretty much anything you can think of up that alley I'm more than happy to do)

If you want a request of one who's not on the list, please submit it. These are just all the ones I can remember off the top of my head, people enjoy.

Ps I love writing silly little things too outside of the fics and even enjoy making art to go along with them when I feel up to drawing.

So nothing is too silly ask away over all the strange little things you want to know.

__________

Tiny art dump

My little spot for art

Food feed to me

_________

Random Works

Transfluid headcannon

Non Ship works

______________________

Character list and links:

Beachcomber

Breakdown

Bumblebee

Bulkhead

Cyclonus

Drift

First aid

Ironhide

Jazz

Knockout

Megatron

Mirage

Optimus Prime

Perceptor

Pharma

Prowl

Ratchet

Rodimus

Rung

Starscream

Skyfire

Skids

Swerve

Soundwave

Shockwave

Tailgate

Tarn

Ultra Magnus

Whirl

#transformers #megatron #rodimus #transformers idw #transformers x human #transformers lost light #transformers megatron #transformers prime #transformers x reader #bumblebee #breakdown #bulkhead #cyclonus #drift #Ironhide #jazz #Knockout #mirage #optimus prime #perceptor #pharma #prowl #transformers ratchet #ratchet #mtmte starscream #starscream #skyfire #mtmte swerve #soundwave #valveplug

[uselessmicrowave]

Could I request a love letter from MTMTE Ultra Magnus? 👉👈 Thank you so much, and congrats on the followers! You deserve them ❤️ your writing is *chef’s kiss*

“Dear Y/n,

It’s come to my attention that I love you. Keeping this information from you appeared to be the best option, but it has negatively affected my productivity. Perhaps you can schedule a meeting with me to better discuss this topic.

Sincerely, Ultra Magnus”

#love letter #mtmte #mtmte x reader #ultra magnus #mtmte ultra magnus #ultra magnus x reader #mtmte ultra magnus x reader #in reality he is very embarrassed and shy and can't wait for your date <33

[postapocalyptic-cryptic]

Inspired by @weapon-up-wallflower 's amazing Drift post, I've decided to compile a list of Red Alert facts. All of the facts are taken from More Than Meets the Eye, and the post contains a list of all of Red Alert's MTMTE appearances and mentions. Enjoy!

Head/Director (terms used interchangeably) of Security on the Lost Light (MTMTE 1)

Not a fan of Swerve, Brainstorm, or Prowl (MTMTE 1, 56)

Despite this, he shared room 43 with Swerve when aboard the Lost Light (MTMTE 43)

Talks quickly and somewhat unintelligibly when anxious (MTMTE 2)

Has enhanced hearing and often uses this ability to listen in on people (MTMTE 2, 5)

Trusts no one on the Lost Light except Rung (MTMTE 5, 7)

Wants eyes installed in the back of his head (MTMTE 5)

"prone to wandering off" (MTMTE 9)

Aware of his own paranoia and takes measures to reality-check himself (ie recording the sounds he heard in the Lost Light’s basement for Rung to hear, telling Fortress Maximus to avoid further triggering his paranoia in MTMTE 57) (MTMTE 5, 56, 57)

Thinks communicators “interfere with your brain patterns” (MTMTE 6)

Has read every edition of Wreckers: Declassified (all 332 and specials!) and corrected their typos in search of hidden messages (MTMTE 46)

Discusses his delusions somewhat readily with people other than Rung (MTMTE 6, Drift knows about Red’s hang-ups with communicators)

Worked before the war as a Warden in Translucentia Heights, where he also was an “enthusiastic” Senate informant regarding things such as the Militant Monoformer Movement and the early Decepticon movement (MTMTE 9, 57)

It was this enthusiastic participation that put him on Sentinel Prime’s radar as a candidate for an early form of Shadow Play, allowing Sentinel to later take over his mind and use him as a sleeper agent. Though Red Alert did not consciously know what had been done to him, he was frequently anxious about being used or somehow controlled against his will in the years between the Shadow Play and the activation of the mind control, suggesting that early Shadow Play was clumsy and left marks on the victim’s mind. (MTMTE 57)

Suspicious of mnemosurgery and related fields (MTMTE 56)

Frequently distracted by seemingly insignificant things, such as the space bridge in MTMTE 56

“Patchy records” exist of his life before the war. Even Rewind has a difficult time tracking down information about him (MTMTE 57)

Suffers from frequent nightmares, sleep-talking, and “sleep-driving” (MTMTE 56)

Diagnosed with Paranoid Personality Disorder, a cluster A personality disorder characterized by, in Red Alert’s case, persecutory delusions and paranoia about being “used” or manipulated (MTMTE 56)

Red Alert has an extensive history as Rung’s patient, receiving (seemingly sporadically throughout the war) 600 years of Rungian psychotherapy beginning with a meeting under Sherma Bridge 6 months before Declaration Day, which progressed as follows: (MTMTE 5)

- Session 7: Red Alert gives Rung a fake name

- Session 97: he shows Rung his face

- Session 113: he tells Rung he’s stopped recording their sessions

- Session 288: he tells Rung his real name

- Session 332: he stops recording their sessions

Despite being thought of as severely mentally ill, many of Red Alert’s “delusions” are firmly based in reality. For example, the “Institute” he spoke of to Rung was very real, and it’s implied Red Alert worked for them in some capacity (MTMTE 5)

List of appearances : MTMTE 1-7, annual (mention), 9, 10, 11, 16 (video), 22 (mention), 29 (mention), 43 (mention), 46, 50, 56, 57

#my magnum opus! #red alert #idw #tf #mtmte #more than meets the eye #transformers #maccadam #uhhhhh #yeah that's all folks!

[witchofthesouls]

No idea where this brain-child came from but I’m not complaining;

TFP or MTMTE Megatron in a ‘Finding Nemo’ scenario where his young human-hybrid child is taken (to amp up the angst let’s say Quintessons for example) and daddy! Megatron is just a fury of emotions and can barely think straight at first when he hears or sees that his child his taken, with only one thing replying with a vengeance in his mind; where is my daughter?!…Where is my daughter?!…Where is my daughter?!

Megatron is Marlin, but it's June Darby that plays as Dory.

That is the only human adult he got access to that 1) won't trigger government officials, 2) he knows can keep their mouth shut, and 3) he can fling at organic-friendly civilizations to hunt down information and clues, and by Unicron's ball-bearings, he'll use her.

It's the road trip of hell and vengeance. And instead of a talking, super-high turtle, they break out a deranged Titan from Quintesson fuckery and they ride in style.

It likes June. It wants June. It will crush her puny Nevada home because it is a far superior residence. Tiny brick and wood structure doesn't have the capability of space travel.

#ask #transformers #transformer prime #tfp #fic ideas #megatron #june darby #parental relationship #implied violence #maccadam #my thoughts #Megatron's new best friend is a very uncomfortable cross between Ratchet and Orion Pax #he has no idea how to feel about it too

[transingthoseformers]

Mmhm and here we explore more how Optimus isn't exactly seeing the truth here, and can't make up his fucking mind on who he thinks Megatron is or when he thinks things went wrong.

I was remembering something he said/thought much much earlier in the fic, when the Decepticons first came about after Megatron's attempted assassination. At the time, Optimus expressed concerns that the cons were built upon corrupt foundations (thanks to it basically being Orion inheriting Overlord's crime ring) and Soundwave allayed these fears by saying they could add supports or something like that. Now at the time i exactly looked at that funny as correct me if I'm wrong but if the initial supports of a building are messed up the entire building is fucked.

Yepppp now I'm remembering very much back when Orion and Megatron first met face to face, Orion was clearly expecting a far different person than he found. He fell in love with the page, not the mech standing in front of him, and no! They never had that fairytale "alas, if only we can go back to then" relationship that Optimus seems to think they did.

He uses this term to refer to Megatron but ykw? It refers to Optimus himself //far// better.

Okay i was getting ready to wrap this post up, read a little further ahead, and saw this gem of hypocrisy as well

bae you are so damn oblivious to what is going on inside your own damn processor

#idw optimus prime #mtmte megatron #idw soundwave #mtmte overlord #i don't like oppy in this fic #y'all were right in calling him a nice guy™️ #last time we checked in with him he damn well knew that what happened in vos was an opportunistic attack via the functionists #and screamer and sounders convinced him to purposefully withhold important information from the public #and here is Decepticon high command believing their own damn lies #🙃 #fic reading as ya do #fic snippet #take this all with a grain of salt #I've gotta go to the dentist in a few hours

[lord-squiggletits]

Actually the funniest example of Megatron apologism (neutral) I've seen is when people call it biased and rigged for Optimus to be the judge for Megatron's trial, but have nothing to say about the fact that Optimus let Megatron on the Lost Light AS CO-CAPTAIN which is ALSO incredibly rigged and biased and no one wanted it and Optimus barely had the authority to even do that.

It just seems like a case where people will always take the angle/interpretation that favors Megatron as a victim of Autobot eeeevillll, so they harp on how unfair it was for Megatron to be put on trial, but completely skirt over exactly how and why Megatron even got to serve parole/not rot in prison in the first place. I guess because it would disrupt the ever-present fan wank about how actually Megatron is being victimized for being put on trial and those Autobots are "just as bad" (lmao).

#squiggposting #i hate it too like #bc i DO see and agree with their takes to a point. about how the autobots arent all good #but their evidence is often cherrypicked and taken out of context. angled in the most biased way possible #it's like. bro i could've maybe agreed with you but your argument/evidence kind of sucks #you could make that argument much more compelling if you turned down the impulse to go cons good bots bad #also ppl seem to not understand that a character claiming something doesnt mean it's true #whether theyre deliberately lying or having a knee jerk reaction or not privy to key information #it's just. characters like megatron and prowl are literally known for being skilled with words/propaganda #or for being manipulative as fuck #you can't take things at face value that are spoken by notorious liars/manipulators/propagandists #especially ones like M and P who sre incredibly self righteous with no self awarenezs #but like back to the text of the post...what i mean is like #ppl will use OP putting M on trial as the judge as an example of his bias and M being victimized #but when an example of OP being biased in FAVOR of M comes up they barely give it credence #they only present the evidence that presents OP as some conniving evil bastard and M as a poor victim #in this context ppl need the evil autobots narrative so they only bring up the stuff that makes OP look bad and unsympathetic #do i need to pull out the mtmte receipts of M saying that being compared to OP is a compliment #or him saying that when OP hurts others he hurts himself

[noodleblade]

Double Edged

Summary:

“It’s been a long time,” Ratchet murmured, his smile still there but softer, “I’m happy to see you here, finally finding your way.” Deadlock wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry or scream.

Or, Drift's mtmte origins with Deadlock's cyberverse fate.

AO3 Link

“Aw, scrap,” Hot Rod said as he came to a complete stop in the middle of the hall, helm sweeping left and right. “‘Think I took us down the wrong hall. They really gotta color code this place.” The speedster turned, rubbing the center of his crest sheepishly. “Sorry, Drift, let me just check the map real quick and...”

Deadlock bit down the snarl building in his intake and gave Hot Rod a congenial smile instead, crossing his arms behind his back to hide his tightly clenched fists. 

“No worries,” he said, keeping his voice level, pleasant, and absent of the absolute infuriating rage in being made to follow this clueless, imbecile Autobot . He bottled that rage and locked it deep in his chassis, burrowed in his spark, where he always kept it. “Take your time.”

It would not do anyone good to lose it now. Not him, not Megatron and not his mission. Hot Rod was not worth it. Not yet . 

Deadlock could withstand the torment of this idiot for the sake of his mission. Infiltrating and spying on the Autobots was far too important to lose his cool over the annoying speedster. He would have to tolerate it and swallow his annoyance. It seemed as though Optimus Prime had insisted on Hot Rod showing Drift around and helping him get acquainted with the assembled crew. Deadlock had hoped it would be Bumblebee. He was equally as stupid and idiotic as Hot Rod, but rather than a misplaced sense of self-importance, Bumblebee was just gratingly friendly. It was marginally more tolerable. 

“Okay!” the flamed speedster exclaimed, spoiler perked up high as he clapped his hands together. “I think I figured it out. Wheeljack’s lab should be to the left and the second right.”

No, it is not . 

Deadlock swallowed down the correction and, in dismay, followed as Hot Rod continued to lead them down the wrong path, further prolonging this torturous excursion. 

He walked a half-step behind, humming in faux interest as Hot Rod rambled aimlessly, pointing out random rooms and features of the Arc as they took the long way to Wheeljack’s lab. 

Of course, Deadlock already knew all this information. Soundwave had given him a detailed schematic of the entire ship and each of its levels from the ventilation systems, down to the internal wiring. Deadlock had dedicated himself to memorizing every square micron of it, wasting away cycles prior to his infiltration to catalog every possible detail of importance. He could navigate the entire ship blind, if challenged.

Little did he know, the true challenge would be keeping his glossa pinned down as Hot Rod continuously takes every wrong turn. What was worse was that he doesn’t even seem to realize, too caught up in his blathering about…well, Deadlock wasn’t sure. He had tuned out the annoying Autobot at the beginning of the tour, only keeping his audials online for keywords like end, finished, over.

“So, that about wraps it up.” Another marked key phrase. “Any questions?” Hot Rod grinned at Deadlock with relaxed ease, leaning against the wall almost as if he was trying to strike a pose. Deadlock was not impressed. 

“No.” He hoped keeping his answers short and clipped would dissuade further conversation with the pesky Autobot.

“Cool, cool. I think that was everything. And all we have left is medbay. Medics were able to fit you in for a quick check up.”

“Check up?” Deadlock asked, hackles raised as he watched the flashy racer give him a questioning look. 

“Well, yeah? We all got to do it. Decepticons not big on overall health?” Hot Rod teased lightly.

Deadlock almost laughed. Almost. He held back the urge and gave Hot Rod a small, defensive shrug. “Not a lot of medics to begin with.” And the medics they did have had no right to call themselves medical professionals . He was thankful that his time with the Decepticons had left him fairly unscathed. Any injuries he had he took care of privately. He’d seen Shockwave’s work with Shadow Striker and didn’t relish the idea of a similar fate. He’d rather have himself offlined. 

Hot Rod at least had the decency to wince, dropping his smile for something more stricken. 

“Ah right. Well, it should go pretty quick. It’s just an intake so unless you got anything hiding under the plating, Ratchet will be done with you in less than twenty kliks.”

Deadlock froze, brakes hard locking without him even thinking. His engine stalled, optics blown wide.

“Ratchet?” There was a slight quiver to his voice. 

That name wasn’t on the intel reports. That name wasn’t on the crew manifest. That name wasn’t on any document he had received in his mission file. Soundwave wasn’t sloppy . A complete afthole, yes , but missing this information? Deadlock felt acid crawling up his intake as panic seared through his lines. 

“Yeah, he’s our chief medic. ‘Decided to join at the last minute so it's been a bit of a mess around here,” Hot Rod waved off, still walking ahead without realizing Deadlock had stopped at all. “Big ol’ crankshaft but he knows what he’s doing. He’s put everyone on this ship back together at least three times over so what he lacks in personality he makes up for it there I guess.” 

Hot Rod turned, blinking as he saw Deadlock still rooted in his spot fifteen paces back. 

“Oh, I guess you’ve heard about Ratch before? I can guarantee whatever the Decepticon reports say about him are over-exaggerated. He’s much more boring than that.”

That…that wasn’t it. Not by a long shot. But Deadlock took the blessed out and gave a shaky nod of his helm. He didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid of what would come out if he opened his mouth. 

“Well, come on,” Hot Rod waved him along. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get it over with.” As Deadlock fell into step with him, Hot Rod dropped his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but I get a little lightheaded whenever Ratchet takes out the needles.”

Needles were the least of his worries. Comically so. Deadlock had no fear of any medicinal treatment he may receive, but rather who was administering it. 

The walk to the medbay was horrifically short. Like a cruel curse, somehow Hot Rod took the shortest, simplest route. It was as if fate wanted to test Deadlock, to jeopardize his mission, his faith, his spark. 

All that time, all that energy. Deadlock had spent weeks agonizing over his mission. He had perfected everything down to the finest detail. He’d spent grueling cycles studying and memorizing every bit of intel he could grab his hands on. (He knew how Prowl liked his energon and spent a whole cycle learning about meteor surfing just in case Hot Rod brought it up.) He had gotten repainted, stripping back the accented black for shiny, bright white. It felt almost…foreign to be back to his default factory paint after so many years without it. It was crisp, clean, stark in a way it had never been when he had lived on the streets of the Dead End. 

He even adopted his old name. Drift . That had been…challenging. There was still the knee jerk response to bare his teeth and snap whenever anyone addressed him as such. He had gone through so much effort to rebuild himself, to shed off the tainted and stained plating of his past to go right back to it.

But it was temporary. It was for his mission. He had been chosen . Hand selected and deemed the best choice by Megatron himself. Not Starscream, not Shockwave, not even Soundwave. Deadlock was the mech to earn Megatron’s complete and utter trust with this mission and he’d be damned if he did not execute it to absolute perfection.

Even if he meant he’d have to face the ghost of his past. Even if it meant he’d have to see-

Deadlock took a steadying breath as Hot Rod came to a stop. 

“And here we are,” Hot Rod gestured to a set of heavy, white doors. “We’ll be in and out in no time.”

He gave Deadlock no time to speak as he palmed the entry.

The doors to the medbay opened, blasting with them a cool gust of air. Hot Rod waltzed in before the doors were even fully opened. Willing himself to get this over with, Deadlock followed quickly behind, optics immediately scanning the room for red and white and-

“Hot Rod, I told you not to barge in here while I’m working.”

He sounded the same. Still gruff, still bitter, still masking affection under a frown. Deadlock felt his spark drop as he saw the medic turn away from his console to glare down at Hot Rod, only to spot Deadlock instead.

“Is that any way to speak in front of your new patient? At least try to make a good impression,” Hot Rod faux gasped, servo over his spark. “Here I was being nice and escorting Drift to his appointment and-”

“Save it,” Ratchet cut him off with a short hand gesture. “We both know you’ve been talking off the poor mech’s audial for the past several breems. Go. I’ll send him your way once our check up is done.”

Hot Rod gave Ratchet a big grin before spinning on his pede. He clapped Deadlock on the shoulder on his way out. “Don’t let Hatchet scare ya. He’s not that mean. All bark, not bite. I’ll meet you in the mess hall. ‘Think you remember the way.”

Deadlock found his vocalizer unwilling to cooperate and settled for a nod of his helm.

He turned to watch Hot Rod go, the flashy speedster transforming as soon as he crossed the threshold and bolted off with an obnoxious rev of his engine. 

Behind him, Ratchet tutted. “Whatever you do here, don’t follow Hot Rod’s example unless you want to be on Optimus and Prowl’s list.”

His vocalizer still refused to online, stunted by being alone with Ratchet for the first time in…so long. Deadlock gave another quick nod and Ratchet snorted. It was an ugly sound, but Deadlock found himself repeating it in his helm as Ratchet waved him forward.

“‘Going to start with your measurements and a general scan. Stand here and don’t move around too much.”

Deadlock moved automatically. His limbs felt stiff, like they would lock up again at any moment, but he managed to make his way across the medbay to stand on the small raised platform Ratchet directed him to. 

“Keep your arms by your sides while the scan is in process. You’ll feel a slight tickling sensation.”

Bright white light cascaded down his frame. Deadlock kept rigidly still. He could feel the tickling sensation Ratchet mentioned but it was nothing. He had been forced to withstand far more painful and cruel torment without so much as a flinch. Ratchet seemed to notice this and gave a small appraising hum. That made Deadlock shiver, the sound rolling down his plating. 

“You can step off now,” Ratchet waved him forward, shutting off the scan. 

He held his hand out and Deadlock stared. When he didn’t take it, Ratchet simply let his servo drop as he moved to grab the datapad anchored to the scanner. 

Deadlock quietly moved, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. He stared at Ratchet, unsure what else to do. Silence was usually his friend, it's how he managed to keep himself safe in the midst of the Decepticon’s constant infighting. Here, it only served to exaggerate the quiet of the room. It made him feel twitchy. 

He wondered if it was as uncomfortable for Ratchet as it was for him. That would be assuming Ratchet even recognized him. It didn’t even hit him until that moment there was a chance Ratchet wouldn’t even recognize him.

It was not a surprising revelation but it was disquieting nevertheless. 

“Have a seat, Drift.”

The same instinct to correct the name was surprisingly absent. 

Deadlock sat on the medslab, servos anchored to his knees as he watched Ratchet comb through the readings of the scan. His optics drifted across the screen, denta pinching his glossa as he poured all his focus onto his work. It was so simple and yet so mesmerizing, Deadlock didn’t realize he was staring until Ratchet looked up and made eye contact with him. 

Deadlock thought maybe now recognition would finally make its way to Ratchet’s face. But the medic’s gaze was as neutral as it always had been. Ratchet turned back to his datapad.

A…confusing mixture of disappointment and sorrow curled at the base of Deadlock’s throat.

  He…doesn’t remember me.

That should be a good thing. It would make his mission easier, it would make everything easier. But it…hurt. Deadlock was surprised to feel it. The stabbing pain in his chest hurt so much he brought up a hand to rub at it, looking down and away from Ratchet. It took away the sharp sting in his spark, but the ache was still there.

He should be happy Drift was forgotten. He had put so much effort in trying to forget it himself. It’s what he had wanted . He had stripped his name, discarded his past, worked to etch himself into something new, and valuable, and special. He’d thrown it all away…except for that one night in Rodion. It was the one thing he couldn’t rid himself of. 

He had always known that night had meant everything to him and was just…passing words for a tired, charitable medic. But Drift- Deadlock had always wondered if maybe, just maybe, it had stuck with Ratchet.

Evidently not.

Deadlock kept his helm bowed as Ratchet finished reading his scan. A sharp click of the datapad being set down clued him that Ratchet was done. There shouldn’t be anything on that scan. Shockwave had given him a tormentingly thorough examination before they sent him on his mission. The scan then had been clean; there shouldn’t be anything. All he wanted was to be dismissed so he could find his quarters and hide out for the rest of the cycle. The real work could begin tomorrow, the real mission could start then. He just needed a moment to lick his wounds and-

“So,” Ratchet spoke, his voice absent of the gruff bite he had given to Hot Rod, “still have that cable kink in the knee. ‘Thought you would have gotten that sorted out when you got your armor refitted.”

Deadlock snapped his helm up as he met Ratchet’s amused face. The medic let out a low chuckle, his smile crooked in a way Deadlock wanted to trace with his fingers over and over and over again.

“Hi Drift,” Ratchet said, his name spoken with a warmth Deadlock hadn’t heard in years. It was spoken with remembrance, fondness. 

“You…remember?”

“I’m not that old, don’t let Hot Rod convince you otherwise.” Ratchet rolled his optics before they settled back on Deadlock, kind in the same way they had been all those years ago. “Of course, I remember.”

The pain in Deadlock’s chest melted away. This was where the disappointment and bitterness should step in. This was where the worry that his mission would go sideways should sink in. And yet, he felt light, lighter than he had been in so many years.

“I,” Deadlock hesitated, his words low and quiet, “I remember you too.”

Ratchet let out a small snort as he set a palm on Deadlock’s shoulder. In that moment, all Deadlock could see was a Ratchet from before, holding Drift in the same spot, in the same way.

“It’s been a long time,” Ratchet murmured, his smile still there but softer, “I’m happy to see you here, finally finding your way.”

Deadlock wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He had found his way. He finally had found a place for himself, respected and loved and it has nothing to do with this ruse . Megatron trusted him and handpicked him for this position that no one else could ever think to achieve. He had found his way! He had! Ratchet would one day see the scope of that and…

Ratchet gave him a pat on the knee to signal he could get up. A small, warm smile was on the medic’s face as if he were genuinely happy to have Drift here. Deadlock stood on wobbly knees, his center of gravity off-centered despite being in top notch health. If Ratchet noticed, he didn’t say anything. He simply put a warm hand on the Deadlock’s back to steady him.

“Thanks,” Deadlock muttered, unable to look at Ratchet and his too kind, undeserved smile.  

Ratchet won’t be smiling like that when he learns the truth. He won’t be offering Deadlock any warmth, any kindness. Deadlock…was not sure what that would look like. He’d never thought to picture Ratchet angry or upset or horrified. Any time the images tried to appear, he forced them away, choosing instead to think about distant worlds far, far away from the reality in which he would lose Ratchet’s trust. He didn’t want to know what it would look like. 

He knew he shouldn’t even care. He knew his mission was to destroy the autobots and any friendships made here were false. 

He couldn’t deny the small part of himself that wanted to live in his bubble a little longer. That wanted to live in a pocket of space where he and Ratchet weren’t on opposite sides and…well he wasn’t even sure what they could do. 

Talk? 

Deadlock had imagined it countless times, curled in his bunk in the Decepticon barracks running through the simulations of just meeting Ratchet again. His simulations were always tenuous and painful. Ratchet’s disappointment was scathing even in the realm of fantasy. Only a few times had the simulations been positive, when Deadlock tried to imagine a universe where they could just talk. 

Where Ratchet would smile at him and be proud of him and see the potential he had seen in Drift all those years ago in the shady clinic in the Dead End come to fruition. To see that Ratchet had been right, had seen him and understood his potential when no one else could. That they could talk and talk and talk and maybe Ratchet would laugh at one of his jokes and maybe Ratchet would tell him stories of before the war. And maybe Ratchet would admit that he had thought of Dri-Deadlock too. The words wouldn’t be too dissimilar to the ones he had said just now. And then Deadlock could smile back at him and mean it when he said- 

“Me too,” Deadlock spoke to the floor, his mouth moving without his permission. Ratchet rubbed his thumb across the base of Deadlock’s neck. He shuttered his optics to memorize the touch before adding, “I’m happy to be here. To see you.” 

It wasn’t even a lie, despite the guilt that curled around the base of his intake, threatening to make him purge.

He left as soon as the nausea passed. He threw away the urge to even attempt thinking of an outcome that didn’t end with Ratchet’s disappointment.

It’s been a long time.

Deadlock struggled to clear his vents as the acid waste washed over him, Hot Rod’s digits digging into his plating and dragging him down down down. His intake was crushed; he scratched and clawed at Hot Rod’s arms to no avail. 

Hot Rod was dying, and he was taking Deadlock with him. This was the end. And what an end it was. 

Deadlock fought weakly against Hot Rod, desperately grasping for something . He couldn’t die here. He couldn’t die now . He had so much to do, so much he never got to do. So much he failed to do. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. How things were supposed to end. How a nothing leaker from the Dead End became…a nothing Decepticon…in the acid wastes beneath Autobot scum. A nothing. A failure. A disgrace. 

No one would weep for him. 

Not Megatron or any other Decepticon. Certainly not any Autobot. No one would mourn the loss of a failure, of a traitor. No one would care, no matter what name they called him. Deadlock or Drift, discarded and forgotten. Just like before. Just like always.

Not even Ratchet would mourn. Why would he? Deadlock had only ever disappointed him, only ever hurt him, only ever lied even when he was trying not to. He would not deserve Ratchet’s sympathies. He wouldn’t even deserve his pity. 

But as the acid stripped away his paint, peeling away the white then the black and then the white again, Deadlock still hoped that maybe Ratchet would feel saddened by his death. Not as a failure, not as a traitor, but as that lost mech he had met all those years ago, brains fried out on circuit boosters and looking for someone to save him. 

No one was going to save him now. Not Ratchet, not the Decepticons, not some misplaced divinity. No one.  

I’m happy to see you here, 

Are you still happy, Ratchet? What does that feel like? Why can I never feel that?  

Deadlock had hoped once, long long ago, that he would be able to. 

In Dead End it had been Gasket that brought him comfort and the closest thing to happiness. They shared each other’s warmth as they whispered together into the night. They talked about the future, stupid dreams and made-up realities that could never be. Gasket wanted to find a planet with no one on it, where he could be alone and safe and free. At the time, it had been easy enough to copy that dream.

Ratchet had given him hope- not just hope, but trust, and faith, and belief that he could be more. That Drift could be more. That he was special, that he deserved more than what the world and society had spat at him. He didn’t have to follow the will of others, but make his own.  Make his own future, his own dreams, his own happiness. It was the first time anyone had looked him in the eyes and seen more than a dirty little syphonist.

He had thought about those words ever since. He thought about them every cycle, whispering them in the dark, tracing his fingers where Ratchet had rested his hand. It still felt warm and Drift knew that was what happiness had to feel like.

The Decepticons didn’t do happiness. It hadn’t taken Dri- Deadlock long to put that together. But that was okay; power and security were close enough that it didn’t matter. He wasn’t starving. He wasn’t aching. He wasn’t fighting just to find a place to recharge. He had a home and responsibility. He was trusted and valued and praised and-

He was not happy with the Autobots. It was all fake, manufactured, false. Every stupid joke of Hot Rod’s Deadlock laughed at while shaking his helm fondly . Every nod of approval from Perceptor or pat on the back from Grimlock or weary smile from Arcee. It was all lies, all of it.

And Ratchet. Those…those were lies too…

Every brief passing from the medic, always taking a moment- nothing more than a few nanokliks -to say hello, to give Drift a small smile and ask him Have you settled in well? Keeping out of trouble? Heard you took a tumble, want me to check out that knee joint?  

Every meeting, Deadlock shuffled as close as he could dare, to stand side by side as they listened to Optimus or Prowl or whoever . It never mattered. Deadlock would record everything for Megatron, but his focus was always on the medic. So close, yet still thousands and thousands of leagues away. 

Every quiet morning cycle, when Deadlock would get up early just for a chance, a quiet chance, to refuel with Ratchet, exchange pleasantries and smiles. Rarely did they speak beyond that. Deadlock wasn’t sure what they could talk about but he wanted it. He wanted it so bad it made his spark hurt and his teeth ache. He wanted Ratchet to see him, to hear him, to understand him. Like he had back then. But asking for more was unwise. Expecting anything would only make his betrayal more painful. 

None of these moments were truly noteworthy, but each one was categorically recorded, replayed in the deep, dark of the recharge cycle as he ignored the twisting pain in his chest that reminded him this wasn’t real. None of this got to be real. Soon enough it would all turn to ash and destruction, soon enough Drift would be dead once again and Deadlock would be watching every single Autobot burn, burn, burn. 

finally finding your way.

Was this how it was supposed to turn out? Was this his destiny? How was choking on acid any better than rusting to death in Dead End while he fried his brains out. 

Deadlock felt his arms lock up as his energy seeped away, acid corroding his lines and making him immobile. How was this fair? How was this just? How…how come there was no happy end for him?

Deadlock let his optics shutter close, refusing Hot Rod’s face to be the last thing he saw. 

Instead, he drew up memories: the bright lights of a medslab in Rodion, with a gruff medic telling him to keep living, to keep going, that he was special . 

He let his processor, in its delirium, take him back to familiar dreams and fantasies. Long ago, he had stopped co-opting Gasket’s dreams. In truth, they never fit him anyway. He never wanted to be alone. Safety, freedom and happiness meant nothing to him if he didn’t have anyone with him. In forming his own dream, it had been so easy, so simple, to put others around him.

Those faces changed all the time, but Ratchet’s was always there. Sometimes he even felt bold enough to put Ratchet beside him, standing together as equals. In his dreams, it was okay to reach across the distance. In his dreams, he never had to think this was impossible. 

In his dreams, they were together, far away from Cybertron and the war and the pain and the suffering. Far away, in a spaceship not too dissimilar to the arc, charted for the unknown with no factions, no fighting, no war. Ratchet was always there, by his side, in the quiet way the medic always was in his off hours.

In his dreams, Ratchet still called him Drift and there was no bitter sting in hearing it. In his dreams, they just sat together.

And maybe, if he was lucky, they could talk.

#dratchet #drift #ratchet #cyberverse #transformers #macadam #my fics