crying-fantasies

[crying-fantasies]

You got it from your creator!

Masterlist

Wanna know the best part of a hybrid child with a cybertronian? Humanity's funky parts of development will always show up, whether they like it or not.

Part 0 + art | Rodimus and Sunset | Eyes/optics

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 | Sideswipe/Sunstreaker and Solar | Teeth/denta

Part 6

[crying-fantasies]

You got it from your creator! P5

Sunstreaker & Sideswipe

Masterlist

A Lamborghini can speed up to 200 mph or more depending on the model, Sunstreaker gushed to his brother when they tried to choose their earthling altmodes, “Something with class and finesse” his brother wanted, eyeing different models of the shield with the large mammal in it, he liked the glossy finish on the vehicle, “I’m not sure, can it take damage well?”, rarely they got to an agreement, and even went for the same model, which Sideswipe didn't quite remember, all that he wanted was the fastest, bulkiest possible model and Sunstreaker wanted the most sleek, elegant car he could get, because speed is important, but why have it if they can not flash their enemies, and their comrades, with incredible altmodes.

As he sped over 220 mph, Sideswipe remembered, once again, why he chose his altmode, his tires were burning and his spark was spinning in deep distress as his youngest cried and fought against the seatbelt, energon dripping from her intake and cleansing fluid falling from her optics, he tried to keep her calm, but her cries, contrary to her squeals of joy when he took her for happy rides, only increased because he couldn't keep his field properly, he should comfort her, he should make her crying cease and that pained expression go, he is her sire, he is the one to protect her from anything until she can hold her ground and maybe even after that, but he is powerless against whatever is creating so much desperation in her happy faceplate.

Maybe he should calm down, perhaps he should call again, to you, to Sunstreaker, someone that might know what has happened in the short time he left his tiny femme alone in her pod crib, he swears it was only a few clicks, he swears! She was just rolling around the mattress while nibbling her servo as he was crafting a new hairpin for you, it was only a few clicks but he soon heard her whimper, all senses heightened by her pulse of distress, Sideswipe was quick to look at her and his spark plummeted in his chamber when he noticed the energon on her intake.

She didn't purge her tanks, the energon in her intake wasn't from ingestion, it wasn't from fuel, it all came from the place in her intake where her missing dentae should be, and she still tried to munch in her servo, making more energon flow, fear is something a soldier shouldn't have, and yeah, he didn't fear for himself, not as it should be normal, but his tiny femme? His youngest? Solar is so small, so vulnerable, and she was soon crying as more energon flowed out and her temperature increased, he couldn't take it, without time to explain to the curious Steercharger that was just coming back from class to see his sire running out and transforming midrun, his oldest was going to be okay, he was going to be fine, it was all that could make him keep calm as the hospital doors opened for him to enter, human doctors didn't come by immediately and cybertronian medics tried to calm his signal with their own because no one can reach for a overwhelmed mech with young in their arms if they don't want to renounce a servo, but, low and behold, Sideswipe, with his bared denta, let them see his precious cargo, still crying, still sending signals of distress for anyone to feel and come help her.

The horrified faceplates of the medics only made him spiral, fearing the worst, Did she eat something? He was working with some pieces of his armor, Did Solar grab a pointy piece without him noticing? Cybertronians can't cry, they don't know how to, his tiny femme, his baby could because she had some human from you, she was soft and physically vulnerable like you, what if she took a sharp piece of his armor and swallowed it without him realizing? Was his tiny femme in danger because of him?

He was supposed to call you now, you worked here today, but his vox couldn't cooperate, How was he going to tell you? Tell his brother? Tell his oldest that Solar may be in danger because of his mistake.

But, as a bad joke or pity from Primus, a tiny human nurse armored in baby blue scrubs with cartoonist illustrations approached the group of horrified cybertronians, armed with a miniature pink container in one hand and a damp cloth in the other, an expression that spoke of boundless wisdom laid over by a kind, calm smile, “can I take a look?”

When Sunstreaker opened the door to the small space reserved for privacy he found his brother, looking defeated, as if he has lost half millennia in the last 4 hours he didn't saw him, their eldest was looking curiously as you rocked their youngest in your arms, the medicine for the pain with cherry flavor doing it’s magic, at least two strange looking things made of rubber were being ruined in her intake as she bites on them as if those things owned her shanix, the expression on her faceplate was the one of deep fulfillment.

Sunstreaker couldn't understand, he was rolled over by deep misery and fear, then by surprise, and now he almost gagged by all the oral solvent that was dripping from his youngest's intake, “What in the pit happened?”

Sideswipe, finally looking at him and not the wall, gave him a stare that talked of the deepest horrors he had ever got to seen; You were the one to give the news, “your daughter is teething”, you said matter of fact, a smile in your face as her oral fluid kept on dripping with some energon in it, as if it was the most normal to see, and in some way, for you, as a human, it was, but it had never crossed your mind it could happens to your baby.

Horrified, because apparently cybertronians don't go through it, Sunstreaker almost yelled by the panic of noticing energon on his youngest intake, “What in the name of Primus is teething?”

Fun fact! Cybertronians are forged and/or emerge with their denta ready to be used, tech-organic do teething as their human creators’ DNA dictates!

It wasn't the last of the fake near-death encounters they found. Soon, after all her denta were finally out, it was only the beginning of more incidents yet to come

[crying-fantasies]

Maybe, thus far, his processor has finally been reduced to jelly, vox struggling with a “Look at chu” while rocking the tiny crib, humans and their inventions are once again a lifesaver as he can't trust himself to not squash the sparkling if he falls back to recharge, but it is his turn, suppressing the necessity to fall back in berth and cuddle you till next cycle, but Sunset is a fuzzy little fellow and his need to be rocked back and forth for some reason is almighty if someone wants to prevent a shriek only comparable to a dying toaster inside a shredder.

Who would have thought? With that malleable faceplate and still-forming metal, no one could believe such a tiny thing could cry out so much. The newly forged intake opening was as if trying to mimic your breathing. His optics weren't formed, but he already had the socks done. The urge to trace his features was strong, but the nagging pop-up in red commanding him to recharge won. What if he touched him, and his sparkling woke up? You would be dragged back to tend to him with bloodshot eyes and a sickly demeanor all over again due to the exhausting work that raising the sparkling demanded.

You fell asleep on your breakfast during the last cycle, and Rodinus had to help you cough out your coffee as it went down the wrong pipe, then Inferni comms him as you fell again in the middle of your work, wouldn't be so problematic, or a bomb to his nerves, if you weren't driving your scooter in that moment.

He is the sire, he is also responsible for taking care of his young.

But being the one responsible doesn't mean he is capable of doing it with ease.

Cybertronians' recharge was way shorter than a human’s sleep time, especially for cybertronians that set internal alarms to prevent a century-long nap and wake up to see their human partners at the end of their lives; Rodimus was sure to endure these hours and not just conk out, rocking the crib with his digit, helm supported by his pauldron, he could do this.

Two vorns later, and couldn't keep it up.

Rocking wasn't working, Sunset was starting to move and whimper, Rodimus didn't have a clue as to why he was being so fuzzy about it before he noticed the sparkling rubbing the nubs soon to be servos over finally formed optic lids, “wait a minute”, excitement threw tiredness out of his frame in just seconds as his servos held the sparkling with precision and care, “are you trying to open your lids? Do you have optics already?”, almost on cue he could see the movement, the fast flutter and the activity under the lids, “come on, buddy, show daddy those optics-”

The window of his habsuit lit like a new star, so much so that you could see it from outer space.

Rodimus shouted, from excitement, at first, and then from pain by being blindsided by the sheer power of a newly formed pair of optics, so high, so bright, his own optics had to cycle, twice, before he could process the tiny optics looking right at him with confusion, almost asking “who the frag are you?” with a face that boarded on cute and aggressive, how he didn't drop Sunset was a miracle in itself, and he couldn't stop his laugh, loud and booming, and his strong vox from finally work properly again, “babe! Babe, wake up!”

Turns out, you're already up, being alerted by his first scream of blinded terror and already trying to move around half blinded because human eyes can't reboot like cybertronian optics, “I’m up! I'm up!” was your vague dialogue as hands flew by trying to catch onto something before going face first to the berth, failing ungraciously and shrieking upon impact.

But Rodimus collected you with care, showing the tiny bundle with a smile, vox booming proudly for anyone damned enough to have been waken up by the ruckus caused at such ungodly hour, “he has the color of your optics!”

.

I can not begin to express how much this piece of art means to me, Thank you so much! Will turn around to make more content with dad catastrophe Rodimus, teenager disaster Sunset, and loved reader!

Lil fanart for @crying-fantasies 's terraformer AU, if yall never read their stuff then u should, i'm practically obsessed with this series

[crying-fantasies]

[crying-fantasies]

Hello tumblr 🙋‍♂️

I once saw a video tutorial on first aid and I almost threw up 💀

[crying-fantasies]

For my friend 柠檬巧

[crying-fantasies]

Been chatting with @muletia and I am obsessed with dad mer Optimus, have some doodles I NEEDED to have this visualised (points to anyone who gets the comic reference)

Mer Optimus design by me but inspired by muletia's merformers AU

The child yearns for the sea

[crying-fantasies]

Affection

Masterlist

Mixed ones are rare ones, no one says it, not out loud, and not exactly in a bad way, it’s only that not even the elders understand how a pair of human and mer could ever have progeny, a healthy one at that.

Many youngsters had their ideas, fueled by the fact that the sky people, like the hoomans, had faces that looked a lot like them, or maybe the other way around. Some crazy ones stated, at the beginning, that the sky people stole the faces of unfortunate mers and used them to pretend to take their side, such ideas were destroyed once a sky person gave birth in the floating caves where the sky people used to live, and all could witness in the strange hatchling, the traces of its little face, the proof was undeniable, and many mers couldn't resist the vision of such tiny being that looked at them from the other side of the water with it’s parents looming around.

“Maybe they come from a star sibling to our planet”.

“Are the old tales true? Our planet was once bigger than it already is?”

“The tales of the great catastrophe are tales, only hatchlings would believe those.”

“How do you explain them? Their hands lack claws but still look like servos. Their eyes may be dull, but they work almost the same as our optics. Their legs are the only remarkable difference apart from those tendrils in their heads.”

Then, what others said, really took a whole roundabout when a mer gave birth to a shell-ess egg, nothing had been seen before, maybe in the form of a bigger size frame who didn't have the necessityto in u be their young, but the carrier was of small frame and the youngling came in a thin shell was after the time the carrier was expected to lay any egg, you could see an already formed hatchling that broke free soon after, the youngling was designated Hot Rod, and appart from his strange birth, he looked the same as any other mer, if anything he acted way too much like his sire, a human that lived in the floating caves and almost moved to the sand reef to be near the carrier of his offspring, showing that hoomans were really good mates and parents.

Obviously, the mateless youngsters were the first ones to peek over the water to look at the hoomans of science, their optics dreamy and servos itching to try and hold the feet of the hoomans, try and catch their attention once dancing wasn't enough as the hoomans only clapped their hands in amusement before going back to their work, only once a sky person actively followed a mer, and Powerglide became the target of envy from many, more so when his mate also gave life in the form of two fully formed “babiis” as she called them, they looked just like Powerglide, and their tails were normal.

It gave comfort to the elders. Powerglide was a flier, maybe he preferred to mend his own business, and some weren’t exactly interested in him; it was a loss nonetheless. Chandler was a hunter, a great one at that. His bond to the human caretaker broke the spark of many chasing after his attention, and while Hot Rod was strange in how he acted and talked, there was no denying that he was healthy, growing fast, no mate to talk about as he always failed in the trials, and Optimus was even thinking of giving him the title of Prime in top of all, let him have his pod just because “Hot Rod is the best example that the sky people, no, the humans are of great help for us”.

But Hot Rod, no, Rodimus was way too different, while any other mer would be thrilled to have such an opportunity, Rodimus escaped from it, and some youngsters followed him, and no one seemed surprised when he, just like his carrier, felt for a sky person.

What surprised, was that his mate gave a full clutch of three eggs, their shells weren't perfect, the body of the carrier wasn't prepared for such an ordeal, but the hoomans gave him fertile eggs, three out of three, not even the most sought-after carrier had it easy.

Sky people were worryingly fertile.

More attention was attached, and more were intrigued, more by the fact of how it was possible, and most were curious in how it worked, because hoomans didn't have tails, so they didn't have slits, yet in three different occasions they mated and gave offspring, tiny and cute offspring just like that hooman babii.

And Rodimus, being the little slag that he was, didn't have the same reservations as a new sire should have, showing off his new sparks with pride, they were struggling from side to side, their round faceplate were new, all were tiny, more than most new sparks, they looked more hooman, they were chubby, healthy looking; Rodimus looked proud, he should be, and many of the unmated mers looked at his offspring with several questions that he answered like he was a great sage.

“How did you…?”, most trailed off, not knowing how to phrase it correctly, and Rodimus licked the head of his youngest with affection.

“Do they have…?”, one of the pups started to purr under the light, sleeping in the arms of his sire, many looked, wishing to take them and cuddle them.

Finally, one has the guts to ask, “humans have arrays?!”, all of them closed their interest at the red and yellow mer, who finally stopped the grooming and looked directly at all the curious optics, he almost laughed in their faceplates, where did these morons think his babies came from? “Humans only have one of each,” Rodimus acted uninterested, his mind was flying back to sweet, delicate fingers and your warm embrace, “humans with valves can be carriers and the ones with spikes can be sires.”

Rodimus and his big glossa only made it worse, and before the elders could do anything to stop it, or make them change their minds, as they all saw that in place of dancing and showing their scales, and yes, some of the humans understood, their paids hanging if they touched the local fauna, the elders knew that it wouldn't be enough, as more than one mateless individual had the guts to still go for it, especially with a Prime encouraging them, “humans like strange things”, Rodimus would say like a sage, “and they don't understand subtle, you must go all out”.

Some captured the most strange-looking fishes, rocks, or plants to present to the sky people with white garments, making them fall near them with their trickery, the other hoomans noticed too, and both sides had to talk to limit the mingling, “no touching” the humans were warned, but Rodimus was quick to encourage once more “who said they are the only ones to touch us”.

It was a constant headache, especially when some could catch a young mer dragging down a human to smoother them in affection.

[crying-fantasies]

thank you.

i never expected to take such comfort in transformers again but it was always a safe space for me when i was a kid. it was a place that felt like i could come back home to. and in a year that felt like we had the ocean at our doors., i found them again. or should i say they found me.

i found tf again in a time where i really, really needed something to hold onto and im still surprised by how much comfort this franchise has given me. i went through grief and loss; two things i think a lot of people had to go through these past two years. i think i took comfort in the bonds some of my favourite bots shared, their pain and it gave me some amount of solace that you don’t have to go through something alone. you could, but it’d be so much better with a couple extra hands. and to think i didn’t even know what those word mtmte meant a couple of months ago.

just like how some of our favourite bots come as a package deal, so did the community. and they welcomed me with open arms. i’ve laughed, I’ve cried, i’ve cringed (and made cringe) but i’ve met some of the most wonderful people i’ve had the joy and honour to meet. if we’ve interacted in some way, you put a smile on my face and i could only hope I’ve done the same. making my silly little jokes, and knowing that it makes someone’s day out there better if even by 1% is more than enough for me.

right now, as i sit under a sky of stars, i wish you well. because all journeys come to an end, but the bonds we’ve forged are eternal. before i ramble anymore, i want to thank you for taking the time out to read this, to the creators, writers, artists, and everyone who made me laugh on days i’d felt like the ground would fall out from under me. thank you.

and especially to the beautiful person who’s post motivated me to finally make this, i cant thank you enough. but i’m going to try anyway, thank you so much.

just remember; you may not be good. but you’re sure as hell good enough.

[crying-fantasies]

“Devastator component should stop overthinking some things.”

..the prompt was pampering after nightmare but I ended up doing the nightmare. ANYWAY I’d like to think that when Prowl recharges, the parts of his processor that have Devastator in it become more active, and at times his consciousness crosses paths with Devastator’s, making him “dream”. Also despite his components adoring Prowl, Devastator would probably consider his new component rather.. high-maintainance in some aspects.

[crying-fantasies]

[crying-fantasies]

Can we please get Mayhem meeting the shattered glass version of himself? It would be so interesting (and so much angst) (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

Something tells me that SG! Mayhem would be full of envy and jealousy that his alternative counterpart still has his carrier or maybe he would feel bittersweet that the reader is still alive and well (but sorrow over his own)

You got to know that the first thing SG! Mayhem notices that this other version of him is that he exists in different places, second, that his sire found his way and destroyed another human by courting them, and then that, hey, this mech smells of early memories, of warmth arms, and hugs, of gentle hands cradling his helm while his forming olfactory sensors caught upon the scent of his carrier.

What does SG! Mayhem do first? He convinces Mayhem to take him home, he appears sparkbroken, not exactly telling him, but Mayhem knows something is wrong, and his carrier knows, that you always know what to do, and SG! Mayhem appears in your front door once the cassettes are stopped in their attack (no one knows what the SG! Reality is) and Mayhem thinks that this version of him is just as weird as the SG! Version of his sire.

And yeah, SG! Mayhem sees you, and he is so confused, “why are you still with Soundwave?” what had this Soundwave done right to prevent your death, how come his sire couldn't do the same?

SG! Mayhem doesn't have ire or hatred directed to the other version of himself, it is all towards his sire, his stupid sire that let the Autobots harm and kill his carrier without trying to prevent it, he just questions why one place is different than the other and gets the conclusion that it is his sire's fault because he doesn't have even a minute to bask in the warmth of your presence before a snarl is heard and, with primal force, Soundwave is over him with a servo so heavy, so powerful, with an EMF that screams “stay away! Get out! Don't you dare!” pushing with so much pressure that he can hear his plating bending.

You cry out for your husband to stop, your Mayhem telling you to not get near while Soundwave tries to get this killer away from you because he knows, this mech looks like his sparkling, he is his sparkling, but not, this one has lives bleeding from his servos, done with all the sense in his processor, and he knows, SG! Mayhem knows.

The reason you're alive here is because this Soundwave doesn't care who it is, he will scan them, he will dig deep into their psyche and see for himself who they are, and if even a speck of malice shows up, he will not even think twice before trying to offline them just to keep them away from harming you or his young in his vast experience of being robbed, being hurt, of losing what he loves, much different from his positive sire who, with a smile, believed in everything and everyone that wanted to change, in how much he believed in second chances and forgiveness, something unknow to SG! Mayhem but clear to Soundwave in the most deep, early memories of the mech, of SG! You complained to your boyfriend that “you better not believe in the words others said” while you carried your new spark around in your chest.

“What if they are telling the truth?”, SG! Soundwave asked, and you, having lived the disgrace of humanity falling from grace with the physical and mental scars to prove it, just couldn't shake that uneasiness while still forming SG! Mayhem was pushing his soft helm against your chest.

Turns out, they lied to him, and it cost him and his new spark everything.

SG! Mayhem doesn't remember, too young, but Soundwave now knows, stopping his assault while his Mayhem calls out to him “Dad! Let him go!”, his youngling is naive, he is loved, he is safe, he is just like you and he wants to keep it that way, so he lets go of this stranger's helm, launching him far, far away with force, the message is clear as his plating stands up, EMF a clear and silent warning to “STAY AWAY” as his stereo shots up in static, and SG! Mayhem just looks at you and this sickening version of himself, he feels envy, it's not fair, why does he have to pay for the mistakes of others? It's unfair, Soundwave knows while the mech goes away, but it is how it is, it can't be changed, it can't be erased, and he can only let himself have a moment of sadness for such a young spark before he hears you and his sparkling shout at him for being so rude.

It's better if you two never know, much better, and he gives himself a break, basks in the moment once he catches both for a hug, feeling your little pulse, feeling the push of Mayhem’s spark spinning in his chamber, no matter your questions, he can't lose this too, he’ll never let it happen as he feels Buzzsaw and Laserbeak land on his pauldron.

It's curious, how SG! Mayhem resembles so much of a younger Soundwave, full of hurt, envy, sadness, and undirected revenge, while Mayhem is so centered on helping others like SG! Soundwave.

[crying-fantasies]

I’m sure this is a very common take, but I haven’t had any motivation to write fandom stuff lately, so I wanted to get this little bit down while I had the inspiration

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Being the human partner of a Cybertronian, any Cybertronian really, and turning this huge, hulking, intimidating not into a giant mechanical cat with some gentle touches, some kisses, and sweet words. Standing on your bot’s shoulder, gently stroking a hand over their cheekplate, and listening to that earthshaking rumble of their engine as they purr. Your bot gently nudging you with their cheek or nose when you stop, silently insisting the continued touch and affectionate words. Your bot mass displacing and crawling into your bed, arranging pillows on your lap before laying their head down and promptly falling into a well deserved recharge. (Let’s pretend that they wouldn’t shatter the bed frame just by putting a little weight on it, lmao-) Your bot trying to teach you chirolinguistics, not realizing that you don’t have the same kinds of sensors in your palm as they do, leaving you incredibly confused. Your bot relishing in the tiny flickers of unabashed emotion they get from your very weak organic EM field. Singing softly to your bot, only for them to croon one of their favorite Cybertronian tunes right back, and the both of you giggling over just how vastly different your music is from each other’s. Your bot trying to teach you the Cybertronian language, and you trying to teach them about human art/literature/philosophy/etc. You and your bot being soft and cute and fluffy. Send tweet 🏃‍♀️💨

—

I hope you don’t mind me tagging you, but you’re the one who motivated me to get back into writing!!! This lil drabble certainly isn’t my best work, but it’s the most I’ve done in awhile, haha @revelboo

[crying-fantasies]

he's so sweet

[crying-fantasies]

[crying-fantasies]

Recharge arrangement

Masterlist

Sunstreaker is calm, frolicking over the fibers of his gift, rolling his optics with mild amusement and embarrassment as his brother moved in his recharge, only an hour prior their eldest crawled back from his habsuit, he should've made him go back, but as he was traveling in deep space Steercharger has been maturing on Earth, raised as a human infant when in Cybertron he would already be living in an entirely different residency unit but he still crossed over him, like it was all-natural, reaching next to Sideswipe who coddled him in between the space where a sleepily you kissed him goodnight on the helm, making the youngling smile while taking place in the berth.

“He is a fully matured youngling”, Sunstreaker would point out, “my baby is only 2 years old” you counter-attack while Sideswipe cleaned some dirt out of his iron apprentice, soon falling asleep once again with a hand massaging over the red helm that inclines if just so slightly to take all the love showed.

In the bond, their communication was easy while keeping the silence even when one was trying to appear mad about it all, “Aw, c’mon, it isn't that bad”, the care Sideswipe felt for their oldest was evident even when he was the one with the most doubts at first at taking him in, now carefully covering the frame of his young from the open window, old habits of their uprising die hard, and he needs to be a tad bit pushier, a digit pressing the malleable check of the youngling, who in middle of recharge, smiles boyishly, “Sunny, just look at this cute faceplate, how can you say no?”

“Like this, no”, he loved his young too, Sunstreaker still had some hidden doubts if it was real, only to feel the glee in the youngling's EMF while clenching his servos over the mattress; Steercharger has been raised at the end of the war, knowing only safety, love, and never to have an empty tank or a cold, hard floor to recharge in, and both are so thankful for it in their ways, Sunstreaker is grateful while Sideswipe is just happy of such, with a tinge of anxiety, and sadness pricking over the healed traces of a wound that almost killed him, a constant reminder, of almost losing the opportunity to be in the life of his eldest who shows free affection with that little, innocent smile while rubbing an audial over Sunstreaker's chest piece in affection, he loves how close he feels to them all, but still believes that they should've set boundaries long ago, it is best to cut it down quickly, painlessly, but he did falter some when his brother, their youngling and even you look at him knowingly.

Three versus one was a secure win, especially when they noticed the chirps and growls, Steercharger opened his spark chamber to show off Sol, their smallest spark, Solar growled at everyone, mad about being forgotten by her brother, optics filled with lubricant similar to your tears as you coo at her, “oh, baby, you felt ignored?”, almost on cue Sunstreaker took the crawling sparkling for you to take, almost not letting go until he was sure she was safely clinging to your arms, resting her still forming faceplate on your chest to try and hide her crying, Steer bumps his helm against her back as in an apology and you massage the growing plates of Sol’s back with a hand while the other rubs the helm of your oldest, tired, but so loving, letting them rest with you in the middle.

“Can you say no to all this?” Sideswipe breaks his brother's focus on his mate and his young, the deep need to protect is there, covering everything he cherishes with his servo, a silent conversation between them, what to do, how to do it.

“Shut up”, is all the answer he gives as he shields everyone with his frame offering his back to the closed door.

[crying-fantasies]

kitty car 🐱