MOKA

Masterlist

You know how humans raise their children? Every individual is different in every way; some follow the same teachings of their parents, others stray from those same teachings, bowing above and below, never to do what was made to be done to their children, even when it goes against their own upbringing. Sometimes, they raise their children in groups, whole family units with or without genetic connection, sometimes they don't do it, they just leave them for others to care for, or let them die.

For cybertronians, it is similar, depending firmly on the coding, the area, or the city, the idea of leaving a new spark recently emerged to the government to care for was normal, let the new spark find mechs of their same frame to teach them accordingly, some take them under their care as iron apprentices, no caring about frames, just guiding them in the large and almost eternal life they were promised to get.

But that was Cybertron before the war, before the hot spots dried up and no new spark was to be seen for thousands upon thousands of years, the Cybertron after the senate, after the functionalism.

You know how it was before all that? Well, in reality, it wasn't so different from the other life forms of the galaxy.

You could see mentors helping their new sparks with their changing frames while they grew, see whole clans racing on the surface, searching in their own territories for new resources with their youngest inside their cabins and the oldest already racing with them, see whole groups of flyers, pushing with necessity at their younger members to finally open their wings and start their engines to fly for the first time, you can see groups with their forged young, teaching them, nourishing them, all similar yet so different depending for each group.

Sportsters teach their young to race and fight, and use their frame to their own advantage.

Speedsters race with their young, teaching them the thrill of speed.

Heavy-duty grounders and flyers introduce their young during their first transformation and the new weight of their frames.

Space shuttles guide the still-learning new sparks to outer space where they can truly fly without the planet pushing them down.

Bonds were close, tightly knitted.

So now, most hot spots are returning to function, and cybertronians have to make a decision, one that came almost naturally yet burned by their history.

How can you request a soldier to care for a new life? How can you give them something so precious, a real miracle?

Rodimus doesn't think too much about it, or he tries to appear as such, especially when many servos push at the mesh of his faceplate impatiently, forcing him back from recharge when a digit almost connects right on his optic, “Alright, alright!”, both intruders are still so little that he can handle them with his two servos each, “how did you two reach up here?”, he is sure he had put them both in their own habsuits last cycle, yet, here they are, Sunset seems mad to be stopped before trying to gauge his optic out, Firecracker smiles with pure glee at having his attention on her, “daddy!” she thrills in absolute glee with the few words she can already say.

Warmth blooms in his spark, dragging both his new sparks to his faceplate, making Firecracker reach another level of high pitch while Sunset finally relents and holds him with affection too.

Two out of three, he is relaxed enough to notice they haven't dragged his youngest around like last time, looking over the little pod crib right at the side of the berth, looking at his youngest still recharging, Coupe is more like him, doesn't move an inch while recharging, still has to cry, all she is silently activate and reaching for him with both tiny servos.

How does a speedster of the new era raise his young? Simple, he puts them up in his cabin as he races through the corridors, Megatron has to step back right before Rodimus almost crashes into him, again, the older mech is more attentive to the fragility of the sparklings than the sire, yet he knows that Rodimus is peculiarly careful even while driving at such speed, no matter that he appears not to or when he shouts out a: “Sorry, Megs! Family day! See you tomorrow!” while he is supposed to see with him and Mininus about their new route, he can't even say anything as soon after he dodges Drift that is coming too, Megatron can only sigh, saying something about Speedsters with a smile.

How does a group of Speedsters handle sparklings of their same frame? They teach them not to fear the pull of gravity or the force of acceleration, Rodimus opens his door to Drift, both in alt-mode, showing his friend his already bouncing little femme, excited as she keeps giggling once Drift opens his door too to let her in after a quick jump, securing her with his belts, Sunset seems more doubtful, no matter how many times they have done this since he could walk, still following his little sister and almost tearing Drift’s seat to ribbons with his digits, “you will get it some day” the mech comforts him once he can get his belts on him.

Rodimus moves his youngest, still holding onto his seat, not alarmed by the momentum that almost pushes her but clearly bothered, her digits slightly tearing at the covers, “It's ok”, he murmurs around her, “Daddy has you Coupe”.

Do other Speedsters join them? Not yet, Drift came in naturally, Rodimus trusts him with his life and his children, proven right every time once both transform and Drift returns his kids without a single scratch.

Early plays are a must, at least for Rodimus, took him time to figure out a routine to teach them without it being scary, and thus why Sunset keeps being fidgety, but Firecracker and Coupe are far from fearing speed.

He remembers his youth, racing after Copperwire, both waiting for Chandler and his heavy frame to reach them, those were the good days and he wanted to experience the same with his baby, but he does admit it was a bad idea to race with Sunset still so little inside his cabin on an alien planet, yet it wasn't his fault that the fauna was so aggressive, but his crying bitlet and your angry expression were enough for him to still wait for Sunset to be bigger, choosing to race inside the Lost Light, as it was the safest place he could think of.

Sunset is making it better each day, but he still runs with wobbly legs right to his servos, holding him tight until his sister comes too and tries to use him to climb their father.

Drift smiles at him, maybe proud of how far he has come.

Your duty time is finished, the storage rooms are full of things to trade and sell in the colonies, and more than sure you need a bath, but there is hardly any time before you hear that high-pitched thrill that you have come to understand means “carrier” in a very gibberish-sounding cybertronian, seeing your sweet baby boy and your energetic baby girl over their dad’s pauldron, your husband smiling the same way both kids do, “ready for lunch?”, he asks you, already giving you his servos to climb up, letting you enter his neck guard as both kids insist on a new energon flavor for the day as you sink in his neck to hold your youngest, your sleepy baby that pushes her helm to your neck due to all the noise and being right next to her dad’s voice box, feeling how he walks to the communal rooms.

“I want rainbow jelly!”

“We had that yesterday”

“But we could have it again!”

Rodimus rumbles lowly, already imagining a deeply charged Firecracker terrorizing whoever comes her way, “yeah, not gonna happen, today you have sweet chips as dessert”, her little femme goes “aww, but daddy-” while Sunset is already feeling the candy in his glossa.

How do cybertronians handle growing ones? Rodimus has a few problems cleaning Sunset’s drying, old armor, it is sensitive for the almost adult mech, so he says nothing when his son gets away from him to go right next to you, your tiny fingers doing wonders for him as his little sisters play with the fallen pieces of his old armor, “it's brown” Coupe says, smelling it, “Alright, let go of that, it isn't a toy”, Firecracker seems to think different as she is already try in to put one over the other, Sunset doesn't give a fuck, really, as he rests his mass displaced helm on your lap, letting you work with patience.

New sparks have their own ways of thinking, he can no longer direct them at his will, which shows when Sunset just goes: “I want a new paint job” which has Rodimus’ spark go heavy.

“What?”, he starts, “Your color is great! Brownish red is amazing!”, Sunset is still the one to look more like him physically speaking, like before he became Prime, and that was grounding as it was a way to connect with him, he can feel you watch him, he knows both his little femmes look at him, worried, much more so when Sunset just goes: “it doesn't feel right”.

赤 [Red] by Kotteri (@Pixiv, @Tumblr, @DeviantArt)

Summary: A few instances where you (the reader) get an outside perspective on what the bot's are thinking as you traverse through the story. A little angsty.

Wordcount: 1500

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There’s a crib. A crib that’s been toppled over.

It just didn’t make sense.

When he entered this room, the fire caught Chromedome’s attention as both a mystery and a pity. Judging by the other rooms that he had checked out prior, this side of the ship seemed to some sort of science sector. Or a rundown medbay. A couple of med slabs (autopsy tables?), a copious amount of tools hung up on the wall in each room, and there was one room that was strikingly different. A few tables and work desks akin to a common room, except there was a strange substance that was burgundy and flakey underneath one of the tables. Most striking is that it smelt like metal and ammonia.

Despite all the science, there was no sign of the artifact. Chromedome was beginning to believe that the tip off they got was a lousy scam and that they got tricked into doing another bot's dirty work by practically raiding the ship for them. However there was a small sliver of hope when he walked into a small room with a few desks, one side on fire, the closet hauntingly open and dark, and a dead body in the middle.

Something went wrong here, which means there was, or is, something here, which means there’s information. Chromedome walked into the blazing room first since if there was any information that you didn’t want anyone knowing about no matter what, burning it all wouldn’t be a half bad idea. Chromedome was upset but not surprised when he looked into the room with all the unsalvageable data being lost, however there was a part of him that appreciated the dramatics of it.

Then Chromedome turned to the closet.

It was open, and dark, and very slightly horrifying. It seemed as if the fire had gotten into the electrical wiring of this room, and some systems had suffered from the damage. Like the lights. The only thing that gave an ounce of vision into this closet was the crackling flames behind him and something giving off a slight reflection any time the fire spluttered.

Walking closer to the closet, Chromedome realized that horrifying was the correct descriptor.

There was a crib. A sparkling’s crib. There was supposed to be an artifact or information here. But instead there's a crib that's been toppled over.

Why would there be a sparkling on a decepticon ship? There’s a dead body in the same place where a sparkling had to have been. And the crib had been knocked over. Was there a fight over the sparkling? Why would the sparkling be so important compared to the artifact that someone would die over it? Is something being covered up or was there a disagreement? When was the last time a sparkling had been seen? Surely before the war, when there was time and a community to raise sparkling’s. So why are they here? And what happened to them?

It didn’t make sense. Chromedome sped over to the hallway to call out to anyone in the area. “Was there anyone else that covered this section before I did? Did you find anything? Anyone?”

Drift was nearby. But last he saw he was going down an opposite hallway. Maybe Rodimus? However he was supposed to be on the-

“You’re first in that area. However there was a mech desperately trying to get to here. Why? Is there cause for concern?” Drift approaches from the same hallway that Chromedome took to get to the room, and he quickly ticked his helm towards said room as an invitation in. Once Drift got close, Chromedome saw the slight disbelief on his faceplates.

Ah. He didn’t really rein in his field at all. Whatever, Drift can feel his alarm. There’s good reason to be alarmed.

The two of them walk into the room, and Chromedome beelines for the crib room again. He didn’t really check it that well the first time, he probably missed something. Momentarily he notes that Drift crouched to the ground to inspect the body. Another thing he didn’t really check. “Are you sure? Because there’s a crib in this room and I think I would’ve noticed a sparkling crawling around.”

Chromedome turns the crib over once or twice. It’s an odd material and shoddily made. It’s also surprisingly tall and without any cushions. It looked as if someone made it in a hurry without knowing what to really build. Or maybe they just didn’t care.

Chromedome turns his helm at the sound of Drift mumbling something about instructions. “Instructions? Drift, have you found something?”

While walking over, Chromedome notes that Drift isn’t looking at the datapad in his servos, but rather straight ahead in his crouched position at something underneath the desk. Once by Drift’s side, Chromedome looks down at the datapad, which hasn’t even been turned on. And then he follows Drift’s optic’s up.

“Oh!”

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The sparkling rocked back and forth a lot.

Rewind was reviewing some of his footage from the past few cycles. Despite their age, the sparkling was quite good at articulating themselves. And it seemed they had a bit of a sassy streak as well. Rewind certainly didn’t mind it. The image of a sparkling rolling their optics and dragging their little servos down their faceplate in exhaustion was quite charming.

A part of Rewind wonders if the sparkling learned that from one of them or someone they once knew.

Maybe they got it from Magnus. Rewind imagined the sparkling watching Magnus’ behaviours and writing them down while seriously nodding and the image made him laugh. They probably learned to roll their optics from Rodimus.

As Rewind saved the adorable image of a sassy sparkling not only to a data slug, but to his own personal archive, he realized something as he continued to watch the videos.

The sparkling rocked back and forth a lot.

Like a lot. A lot.

It’s for different things as well.

Whenever someone entered the room, or left the room, or if someone picked something up. Movement generally seemed to cause the need for a calming repetitive action. The sparkling practically rocks non-stop whenever they’re in the med bay. He gets it. Doing the same thing over and over again can feel soothing sometimes. But despite how well the sparkling could articulate, this was one of the only open signs of distress that he could find across all of his footage. Other than the fact that the sparkling doesn’t cry. And majority of the time any cry is them simply whining for something. There’s not a true cry or tantrum that he can remember. It’s almost as if they’re stuck in a state of frozen watchfulness.

Rewind wonders if the sparkling learned that from one of them or someone they once knew as well.

…

________________________________________

Aquaheap sneered at Havoc. “You have to be joking. You brought back a damaged one?”

Havoc looked down to the limp little body in his servo’s. He felt bad. He felt really bad about plucking these poor organics to meet a cruel end. They were organic, yes, but that doesn’t mean that they deserved Aquaheap’s cruelty or the captain’s curiosity. But despite how bad he felt, an order was an order, and this would be the last one since they’re finally leaving this poor planet.

Too many signs of autobot activity apparently. And they had been getting too disruptive in the organic communities. The captain grew weary that a band of autobots would come sniffing their way and destroy all of their progress, so he decided to leave momentarily and come back once everything died down.

Havoc doesn’t understand why they had to return to this planet though. Is it because this is where they found Solus’ artifact? At the end of the cycle, it didn’t matter what Havoc thought, an order was an order. The only consolation that Havoc could offer these little ones was to grab an organic that was already on death’s door instead of a happy healthy one. It's not as bad if they were already going to die. This way he's not really taking a life, but simply speeding up the inevitable. He knows the one currently curled in his servos was particularly ill not only because of the heightened temperature and increased perspiration on their skin, but he knew something was wrong when he came into the little thing’s field of vision, and it looked excited. Maybe even hopeful. For some reason the little organic looked up at what must be comparable to a monster and yet Havoc was met with awe instead.

None of the other ones had done that.

It made Havoc feel worse.

Havoc lightly vented and drew his servo over the back of the unconscious figure resting in his palm. “Sorry Aquaheap, captain’s orders. I couldn’t get too close to the settlements. There’s too many whispers about autobots being in the area.”

Aquaheap groaned and roughly grabbed the organic out of Havoc’s servo’s before gagging. “Disgusting little thing, but I guess you’ll have to do.”

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||Elita One finds herself in another alternate universe altogether (tfp), probably gonna find out that all of her alts are dead for plot purposes in those realms…||

I’m learning animation rn

Masterlist

It was curious the first times it happened.

“You look like him”

It was way too curious when the two looked so similar.

“You are carbon copy of your mentor”

It was funny at first.

“Sides!”

Until it wasn't.

“Eh, no, I mean adult Sideswipe”

“You’re kid Sides”

And it was starting to get old way too soon, and he was only seven and a half Earth years old.

“Why do you have the same name as your father?”

Until it became a constant topic that scratched wrong in his audials.

“It took the same name as his father, how cute!”

And suddenly he had had enough when his teacher called attendance list.

“ENOUGH!”

And he shouldn't be surprised when he was called upon to detention since the principal was right at the door and he scared Millie in the front seat row to the point of crying.

“All right”, his teacher for detention did a double-take when he came into the room, both eyebrows going up in surprise, the only one in the whole room, sitting there in silence, “what happened Sideswipe?”

He noticed him flinching, of course he did.

“I want to say sorry to Mrs. Flores”.

The teacher had to do a double take, because pure cybertronians can't cry, but the kiddo in front of him looked like he was about to defy natural cybertronian law and give it a chance, “Sides you already did, I just-”.

“And Millie and Sophie because I know they don't like loud noises, and Jeb cause he likes my designation but I don't know-”.

“All right, all right, Sides, calm down”.

His teacher approaches, calm and slow, the wheels of his chair a familiar sound that makes him comfortable, “I’m sorry Mr. Chase”.

Detention ended sooner than later, Mr. Chase even helped him end his homework, and he was soon walking back home, not confident enough to go back in car mode, also having the perk to get by the park in the middle of his way, noticing his friend EMF already there.

“Javi!”

As soon as he called for him, Javier’s head popped out of the bidding spot in the playground, looking around until he found him, “Sides!”

He couldn't blame Javi when his engines growled heavily and he ducked down again, “no no, I’m sorry! Javi, surface!

A pair of juice boxes later, orange punch for Javi and a Kremzeek explosion for Sides, they could finally sit down in peace.

“What was that?”, Javi was easily sitting over his crossed leg struts, “the shouting, I’ve never heard you scream like that before, or ever”, another sip on his juice, long, almost judging in silence, “you good?”

“Don't know”, a bite down onto his curly straw, but he did know, in a way, “maybe I was too young when I chose my designation”.

“Ah, right, you guys pick your own names”

Then again, he did pick it, but someone else said it for him.

He still remembers it, like everything in his life, Arcee was so scary back then, and he was so scared and mad with her, she was damaging his friends and then she tried to fight him, his birth guardian, Trypticon, defended him and he had never heard or felt him be so terrified in his short life.

Arcee was so warm once she settled, she was forgiving, she was kind, she still is even in the classroom, she gave him a name and he clung to it because it was said with so much care.

At the moment he didn't know it was because she was grieving someone at the edge of the Allspark.

When he finally got to know the original Sideswipe, well, he admits to feeling jealous in a way he didn't understand right away, he was still developing, his plating was still changing, and even the original Sideswipe seemed taken aback when Arcee made the two meet, he was closed off, in a way, but also easy to reach, trying to make him comfortable even if he didn't have to, maybe that was a reason for his faceplate to finally settle, to look so similar, because Sideswipe and the idea of him felt safe.

Trypticon was benevolent and mighty.

Arcee was warmth and strong.

Sideswipe felt secure and formidable.

His parent was affable and willed.

Sunstreaker was powerful and appealing.

All of them called him Sideswipe Jr., mostly because his human mentor called him that once when both he and his mentor turned around to watch you, he doesn't feel it as a bad thing all around, as he notices the way his parent holds his faceplate tenderly, saying: “You look just like your dads and me”.

He doesn't, he really doesn't, his olfactory ridge is more globular at the edge and the outline of his optics is more rounded he may be red and black, his helm may look alike, but that's because they are of the same frame type, he doesn't have an ounce of your DNA or his mentor’s CNA in his systems, not like Sol does as her faceplate now shows the same outline of your eyes, she looks more like his mentors too, the forming finials on her helm prove so.

“I did, and now it feels weird”.

“Weird how?”

That he looks so much like his mentor, but has never been him, and he gets it, at the moment, his designation was more a tribute than anything else, but he knows the real Sideswipe, and while his mentor is a soldier, no fear, no anxiety, just pure unadulterated will to fight, then there is him, who likes to play with the neighbor's dog and eat his parent’s recently made energon goodies and is still scared of Child’s Play.

“I just feel that it doesn't fit me anymore”.

Javi looks at him, judging again, “You should talk with Mr. Chip about it, feels way outta my liege”.

“Cut me some, okay?” a final sip, and his box is done, “and even if my designation isn't one I want anymore, what am I even supposed to do about that?”

Another heavy moment of those fierce eyes until he presents the answer like it is nothing, “why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don't you just change it, I mean, even I know that sharing the same name can't be fun all the time”, Javi jumps from his leg struts, “and one of your dads always makes this face when they call you Junior”, Sides barks a laugh at the sudden icky face his friend is making.

“True, true, but what could I call myself now?”

“That’s what the game avatar name generators are for”

Later that day, while returning home as the darkness of the planet arrived, the first thing he feels is the welcoming EMF of his mentors and Bob that is soon run over by the clamorous amplification of Sol’s EMF until it finds his, he can almost hear it: “Late, late! Too late! Where you?” as his mentor comes with his little sister on servos.

“Coming late from time in the bridge, uh? everything good?”, his mentor is grinning, maybe expecting to hear something new and exciting in these peaceful days he seems as boring from time to time, so he grins back at him, more like himself, more timid, more controlled.

“I changed my designation! To Steercharger!” his voice is filled with happiness, because it feels right, it feels like him, “Do you like it, Dad?”

An energon cube broke in the kitchen, tires screeching like the start of a race, someone screamed, Sol cried, making you wake from a power nap, and soon running to the entrance of the house as you could, only to find both your spouses inspecting your first child like someone might have stabbed him, Bob came running to you, Sol in his mandibles while offering her to you before darting back to where they were all fussing over the youngling.

“Did someone do anything to you?!”, Sideswipe lashed out, servos trying to make sure his oldest’s helm was still attached to his frame, “Have they touched you?!”.

“Sides, leave him alone”, Sunstreaker was trying to be calm but he was frantic, with a horrified expression as he couldn't touch the youngling, he just couldn't, horrified.

“Okay, okay, stop, stop it!”, you came on, finally making them let go of your eldest, who took the opportunity and ran to hide at your back.

It was a pitiful attempt, but he was feeling way too crowded, “What was that?”

“He changed his designation!”, both cried out, engines running in outrage, and you understood, calling with your hand, making your eldest follow you until the door of his berthroom closed.

“Got it”, holding Sol over your hip, you could finally see the big optics of your eldest, “can you tell me what has gotten them like that from your perspective?”, he felt attacked, making himself little, “No, no, baby, I didn't mean it like that, I just want to understand before your dad breaks down the door”.

He could still hear them, he surely still felt the mess on their EMF, “I changed my designation”, he was sitting, less on guard, letting you closer to his faceplate, “It’s Steercharger now”.

Took a moment to let it sink in, it has been 7 years, almost eight since his existence, he was born out of Cybertron’s soil and raised in a human community, he wouldn't know deep-rooted cybertronian traditions and such unless he was taught like any other new spark flared and shaped, you arm is still holding your little daughter, and the free one takes hold of his side, “your dads are worried”.

“What for?!” he explodes a little, until he pushes his anger down, “I can change my name any time I want”.

Oh boy, “for cybertronians it isn't so easy, baby”.

You can almost picture it, both your husbands trying to give sense of the matter in a positive way.

“You know why Arcee named you Sideswipe?”

He has heard that old tale all his life, “because I looked like dad and acted like him”.

“Cybertronians are named after things that explain them and they hardly change their designations or never do it”, you ask for his servo and he gives it to you, “Sunstreaker is after the way he is, always so pretty but so detached, you know how he likes to look stunning when punching someone”, he does, in a way, because he has never seen any of them fight, not really, “and Sideswipe since he crashes hard, and fights just as hard with great force”, his digits hold onto your hands, hearing things he has know since the moment he came into your home as an iron apprentice, “Arcee called you like him because you crashed so hard against her when you were hardly a few hours old, you made her remember your dad when he was very hurt”.

The idea is terrible, as even you thought he wouldn't make it, crying at the feet of the CR chamber, like a part of you was being ripped open, as Arcee told you that she wanted you to meet someone, he was a few days old to that point and the similarity almost made you cry again, at first there was rejection, because your Sideswipe was in that medical chamber losing his life and here you were playing with a child that wasn't- “Sideswipe”, he said, with different voice, different way to walk, but it was all he could say as he saw you ugly cry as you held onto him.

“In Kaon, from where your dads are from”, he looked at you with great interest, those two hardly talked about it, saying they would wait until he was older, “one of the few things a mech had in there were a designation and their spark, and sometimes anyone could take the latter”.

“They aren't mad at you, they are worried about something bad or too deep happening to you because that's how it works for cybertronians”.

“Nothing bad happened!”

“I know, but you have to tell them too, slowly”.

Changes are part of human nature, you adapt and if not then you have to, it's earth's nature, the way of life of the planet you choose to raise your children.

It had been years since then and Steer is still growing, still waiting for his friend to come by home to go to school together, “Javi!”

“Steer!”

Does it change how your spouses react? Mildly.

“I miss calling him Junior”.

“Well, I don't”.

Unicron is a clear reference to the devil with horns and wings. Humans once had a tail, so let it be like a demon's.

TEAM RODIMUS

Also guess who realized reader is also a welder I digged down on this sub genre of meses as well and discovered many things