Transformer Au - Blog Posts

A face for Red that I liked.

Some quick Bumblebee headshots, was gonna do more, but then Jazz decided he didn’t want to be drawn. So maybe another day.

This is my very messy design process for Bumblebee. I wanted to incorporate Micheal Bay’s antenna and doorwings. Which tie into to his namesake. Plus they’re very expressive, and I feel that expressiveness suits Bee.

I read Bob Budiansky g1 profile on Bee to try and understand him better. It said that he was in espionage, which surprised me since he is usually depicted as a Scout that graduates to warrior. Interestingly his weakness on the profile was being physically frail. So a small, quick ambush fighter was born.

The thing that really got the creative juices flowing was that he has good sensors for on land and WATER reconnaissance. So here is an aquatically capable Bumblebee.

His altmode is his cybertron one from the g1 cartoon. It hovers by the use of magnets since cybertron is a metal planet, this is quite handy. The magnets are the blue circles.

Bee has vents to cool his internals. His vents have the added ability to provide propulsion for liquid based travel. On his alt mode these vents serve as his front grill and back grill, allowing him to shoot forward and backward. At speed.

These propulsion vents can be used in root mode as well they’re on the back of his calf’s, forearms, shoulders, and upper back.

His door wings are on the back of his vehicle mode where they function like the tail feathers of a bird.

Mictransformations! His alt mode has one where the ‘wing’ part of his alt mode segments into four independent parts. This gives him more mobility for uneven terrain. These can adjust to currents (land, sea, EM) while simultaneously gathering information on said currents.

Overall Bee is entirely a multi terrain information gatherer. Perfect for infiltration and espionage. Which accomplishes my design goals. Also I love the fact that his alt mode looks like both a string ray and a pupa. It’s awesome!

This is my attempt at bringing Hot Rod to life.

A messy first draft of a Hound redesign. One hand is on backwards so we’ll ignore that. What this design does do, is bring together all elements I wanted. It just doesn’t integrate them, but hey what first drafts are for.

Megatron's "Not So Interesting' Life

So, I have this thought of an au for a while, where the war never happened but the world is littered with anomalies, entities and all that jazz, right? And Megatron, is just a normal mech, with a normal life, being friends with "normal" people and finding their newly crowned Prime off. Oh! He also gets these cool abilities that I have yet to properly set down-

If you have any ideas on what I should do with this story! Or questions! Let me know! Have fun!

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Megatron knows that he special he has always  known this. How could he not? From a young age, he could instinctively distinguish between a walking glitch of a fake and an actual mecha. It was as if his optics had been calibrated to detect the unseen threads of the universe. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, and he always had the gnawing sense that something lurked just beyond his peripheral awareness. Not that he cared. In fact, he barely gave it a second thought.

Megatron has always known that he has abilities, that he has a gift. He knew this. He could see what others couldn’t. Yet, for the longest time, he refused to acknowledge it, treating it as little more than an inconvenient quirk. That was, until he befriended a few of those shadowy entities that liked to pass themselves off as part of the mortal world. He never really minded—they weren’t doing him any harm, again, he barely cared.

They are attracted to Megatron's gift, I mean, who wouldn't? Having the ability to sniff out someone's bull is pretty helpful.

You see, Megatron grew up in Kaon, and growing up in Kaon, which was and is a place dripping with superstition, Megatron had heard his share of horror stories: the dark, Unicron’s spawns, Primus’ Youngs, and the whispers of what prowled in the shadows. These tales were used to scare younglings into good behavior.

Megatron himself had his fair share of those stories, although, some of the elders do love to exaggerate those stories.

He likes it, not because it makes it creepy. He didn’t find them scary—he found them funny, mostly because of his friends. For reasons he still couldn’t quite fathom, his closest companions growing up were a spark eater, a ghoul, and a demon. Hearing their outrage over the inaccuracies in these tales was endlessly entertaining.

“You can’t eat a spark like that,” Starscream, the spark eater, would hiss in annoyance whenever he hears these ridiculous stories  . “Why do they always describe it like I’m slurping energon soup? There’s nuance!”

“Ghouls: do not hide under berths: waiting to snatch younglings” deadpanned Soundwave, the ghoul, glaring at Megatron. “Soundwave: not a sterotype: Stories; exaggerated”

And Shockwave, the demon of the group would just simply twitch in annoyance.

And unlike Iacon, who rarely has anything to do with superstitions and such beliefs were dismissed as primitive nonsense. (or as media likes to portray it). Kaon has plenty, it thrived on superstition, unlike Iacon,  If Kaon had a museum for the supernatural, it would probably need its own skyscraper.

Megatron can attest to it, as stated before, he is friends with some of the horrifying entities that the tales always tell. Not only that, He’d had his share of encounters with those dark forces, not all of them pleasant. Most of the time, it ended in one of three ways: a fight, a frantic escape, or an unsettling brush with death. The only reason Megatron was still functioning was thanks to his friends, who often bailed him out of tight spots to save his arf.

Yet despite all of this, Megatron barely cares.

He doesn't do much, than work at his boring office job, visit his friends and reassure them that he is well, one of the literally lives in Vos! But at least his trip is always payed, courtesy to his friend. Outside of that? His life is completely barren and uneventful.

That is, until he met the new Prime that goes by the name Optimus Prime. Not, met met him, more like saw him in the holos and the streets during the coronation parade. He didn't wanna be there to be honest, but Starscream wanted to be there, he was in town for royal duties as the Prince of Vos and he wanted to Megatron to hang out with him, that isn't the mech's lonely apartment or Soundwave's house, or Shockwave's lab.

And Megatron, is a friend, so Megatron decided to go with Starscream, begrudgingly of course. 

When Megatron first laid his optics on the New Prime, he immediately sensed something was off, and he can tell that Starscream noticed too, yet he seem calm, which was odd. Normally, Starscream would have been on high alert, his predatory instincts kicking in. But this time? He wasn’t reacting defensively. That wasn’t exactly a good sign, isn't a bad one either.

Spark eaters tend to have heightened senses, they have the ability to sniff out their pray, and they have the ability to semi manipulate the perception of others, making it easy for them to blend in. If Starscream wasn’t threatened, that meant whatever this “off” thing was, it wasn’t something Starscream recognized as dangerous—or perhaps it was something he couldn’t categorize at all.

Megatron looks at the Prime, observing him closely. Their newly crowned Prime seems nice, he speaks very confidently yet softly, a leader with stern yet does not weild his fist to cage those around him. He spoke to the crowd with warmth, crouched to address younglings optic-to-optic, and carried himself with an air of calm authority.

Megatron….he knows there is something wrong, something off with the Prime. Megatron could feel it, like static in his circuits. He wanted to dig deeper, to pull at the threads of this mystery. But before he could, Starscream interrupted.

Megatron has to put those thoughts into a file and store it for later to entertain his friend. A bored Starscream always never ends well.

Soundwave can attest to that.

So Megatron talks to Starscream as they watch the parade from the distance in the balcony of Starscream's  fancy hotel. They watch as the Prime mingle with the civilian, as he interacts with the younglings with such care.

“Ugh. Look at that pompous mech!” Starscream sneered, slumping dramatically in his chair.

Megatron arched an optic ridge. “What are you talking about? He seems fine.”

“Fine? Look at him, so pristine, so proper!” Starscream gestured wildly at the balcony railing. “He’s too sweet. It’s disgusting. He’s practically dripping syrup on those younglings!” 

"Shouldn't I be the one making complaints here? I'm the one who's gonna get affected if his rule is slag" Megatron quipped dryly, already dreading the new rules and laws that will be set if this Prime is like the other ones before him.

“Oh, please.” Starscream waved him off. “If it were up to you, you’d just brood in silence and not say a word.”

“I would, actually,” Megatron muttered. “Besides, you’re the one verbally attacking your own kind right now.” He pointed out, wanting to immediately change the topic, for all that is stands in this world, Starscream is right, he would probably just brood in silence, rules kept him safe after all.

Starscream makes a disgruntled noise. "That thing down there, is far from being my kin."

Megatron grows confuse, he looks at Starscream. "What do you mean?"

Starscream’s wings twitched irritably as he leaned back in his chair. “That thing down there is not my kin.”

That got Megatron’s attention. He turned to Starscream, optics narrowing.

Starscream huffed, clearly annoyed he had to explain. “Look at him! He’s too…off. Too stiff to be a spark eater, too mellow to be a ghoul. His frame doesn’t match anything I recognize. And his voice?” Starscream shuddered theatrically. “It’s wrong. It’s too nice. No one’s voice is that…perfect.”

Megatron frowned, glancing back at the Prime. Now that Starscream mentioned it, he can see more of the odd things about him. The balance of his movements, the precision of his words, the faint flicker of something beneath the surface—it didn’t quite add up.

Huh… Yeah, he can kinda see that now.

Changing the Story for Once Part 1 of Chapter 1

This is a royalty/isakai au I made a while back. I was inspired by the story called "Action" by Let's try some writing and a story called " Optimus Prime is destined to die" by Chuzillla.

And I decided, huh, you know what, why not? I have also posted this in Ao3 but this one is the revise version, I'm revising the story ever so slowly.

And I really wanna share it here but I was debating of it's a good idea you know.

Anyway,here's the summary; Orion Pax is a university student who ended up in one of his all time favorite novel. He has no idea how he ended up here, chaos ensues.

English is not my first language, so it's a mess.

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Admist the glow of flickering screens and scattered datapads, Orion Pax was but an interesting figure, lost in the labyrinth of his own solitude. He was your typical university student who's faceplate is always buried in datapads after datapads, all day long. The epitome of a university hermit. His family tree resembled a barren wasteland, and his social life? Well, let's just say it made a hermit crab look like a party animal. 

He didn't have anyone aside for himself, he grew up with no sire nor carrier and he was just alone in life. He took odd jobs here and there to help him live and see another cycle. With no sire nor carrier to guide him, he wandered the corridors of life all by himself.

Despite such depressing situation, he always find solace on the novels he has accumulated throughout the years— one of which was his all time favorite, it was a story lace with tragedy of a fallen ruler who governed his kingdom with an iron fist, who used to carry the same name as he currently bore— a cruel irony he often found comfort in. He loved the story despite it's tragic and bittersweet end. It was the very first novel he had brought when his first paycheck arrived after grueling hours of being in one of his very odd jobs —the kind that left you questioning your life choices. 

Extra credits is extra credits, he cant say no to that. 

The novel was called “For Once”  and it was a very underrated masterpiece. One which Orion would talk about whenever he gets the chance, which he normally doesn’t so he opted to simply reread the darn thing over and over again to a point where he semi-memorize the entire plot. He had been reading it before he went into recharge, to try and distract him from the thesis paper he needed to write. The story was dark to say the least, but Orion was fascinated and again, it was the very first novel he had brought with his first paycheck.

He had joke to himself, about how his namesake was a terrifying mech, even slightly wished to have his confidence to avoid that glitched-arf mech that keeps tripping him down the mess hall. But then again, Orion Pax has a lot of problems that are far more important than that, not only he has a very barren social life but his student debt was astronomical.

He had already calculated it— at the rate he is going, his great-great-grandchildren might still be paying off his tuition fee— Primus, he really fragging hates the Iacon Academy, it’s a good academy, don’t get him wrong but damn it— it’s filled with assholes.  Another problem he has is his alarm clock being broken, and nothing else screamed ‘university life’ like missing your 8:30 lecture on the west hall because the universe seems to just hate you so much. 

But fate, seem to have a twisted sense of humor.  

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Orion Pax awoke, blinking groggily, he rubbed his optics, half-expecting to find himself back in his cramped dorm room, tangled in his recharge cables with datapads scattered across the floor, and energon caffeine cans across his table from the nights he spend cramming for one impossible test. But as he looked around, he realized that this was in fact not his dorm—  he was in a lavish chamber, surrounded by opulent furnishings.

This wasn’t his very tiny space filled with his own mess— no, this place was…..way to fragging shinny. The walls were polished and they glistened under the lunars light.  

“This isn’t my dorm…..” Orion grumbled, rubbing his optics while yawning. He’s hoping that this is just another study-induced nightmare that he seems to get once every cycle. He sighs and sketches the mingling ache in his frame— he stands up and walked to the mirror, expecting to see his humble blue-and-red-slightly slender armored frame. What he saw was far from humble. He’s colors are still there, albeit less brighter than usual, he was decked out in a massive, bulky armor, which seems to have been polished.

His chestplate alone looked like it could stop a whole ass armada—Primus, it probably had . And his servos? They look like they could crash a datapad in one squeeze! (Not that he hasn’t done it before, accidentally…while studying..but still!).

This is not his body. “Primus…..By Primus fragging servo that slapped Unicron, what am I wearing!??” he yelped, backing away from the mirror like it had burned him. And by the matriarchs servos, why does his voice sound like that?! He stared at the reflection, his optics widening as the reflection glared back.

What he was seeing wasn’t Orion Slagging Pax staring back at him.  It was Optimus Slagging Prime…. 

“Oh no….oh no no no no no no! This—This cannot be happening! I’m-I’m dreaming! Oh Primus, please let this be a whole dream!!” His once semi-slender frame is now bulked with power and authority. It screams control and domination compare to his other one—which if you altered it to the side, he could be considered a femme by a very drunken mech!

And he had been considered as a femme once by a drunken mech!

Panic immediately seized him, his mind reeling with disbelief as he backed away, stumbling to the berth he layed. Orion Pax is known to be very calm and can work well being under pressure, he had done it several times!

But at that current moment— he momentarily lost this capability. With a barely functioning processor, he covers his mouth with his servo—

 And screamed.

 A very panic yet muffled scream.