I am OBSESSED with the idea of the Decepticon team in Detroit accidentally adopting Optimus Prime after he gets magically de-aged into the equivalent of a nine-year-old by the AllSpark.
Except here's the juicy part:
Cybertronians have literally never had sparklings.
Not in a "they forgot what kids are" way, or a "they're bad with kids." Their civilization reproduces in a completely different manner: everyone is cold-constructed in specialized, heavily protected forges. After construction, they're briskly taught a foundational understanding of the current politics and the state of the world before being swiftly thrown right into the society as fully grown adults. There has never been a Cybertronian baby, the concept simply does not exist.
And to make matters worse, Optimus is amnesiac.
He still feels faint echoes of emotions his frame instinctively associates with certain dire situations — like coming face-to-face with the great and mighty Megatron — but nothing beyond that, therefore he's constantly on edge because of being involuntarily terrified 24/7 and not understanding why these feelings appear seemingly out of nowhere in the first place.
And so they find this tiny, deeply confused creature wandering around after their latest battle over an AllSpark shard.
Blitzwing, rubbing his chin thoughtfully: "The Autobot Prime has apparently split into a smaller combat frame by the relic."
Lugnut shrugs, tilting his helm. "Perhaps a cassette of sorts."
"No, no, those have visible reels on their chassis."
"Maybe they're hidden beneath that window panel on his chestplates?"
Another shrug. "Who knows."
Meanwhile, little Optimus is sitting at their pedes like, "I'm eight minutes old. I need fuel, I am deeply stressed, and I am on the verge of a hysterical tantrum. And yes, that is a threat."
