#transformers shattered glass fanfics

[terriblyrenderedenigma]

On Transformers and Human soulmate tropes...

(i do personally attack starscream at the end, i'm sorry starscream lovers, i love him too, but he's just a sad, devious little guy.)

Just a little thought here, so, I love soulmate tropes. Depending on the plot, they can be really fun and take so many interesting paths as a medium used within storytelling, whether romantic or platonic.

But what i want to talk about specifically is Transformer x Human soulmate tropes. Like, you have this super sweet side to it where the bot can be like 'I have waited my entire life to find you, finally, I can hold you in my arms and we never have to part again'. Depending on the character/story/type of SM (soulmate, shortening it because I'm not gonna keep writing it out) trope of course.

Can I just say how...instrumentally fucked this is though? So you have this race of robots who live for, what is essentially millennia out in the wild unless they catch the smoke. Their soulmate ends up being this little creature that lives for 80, maybe 100 years tops before dying. -Unless we're going for some kind of mind switch body type thing, but we all know how that went with spike in g1.

Our beloved robo blorbos will eventually have to cope with the fact that their soulmate, the person or creature they're MEANT to be with via laws of the universe, will die a LOT sooner than they will.

This especially hits hard with the decepticons who, depending on continuity -- hate humanity already. Bots who've gone through so much, losing their home, friends, and their dignities; have to learn to put up with and accept this creature as their fated mate/spouse/conjux endura, whatever you want to call it- SOULMATE.

Then the decepticons just have to deal with the fact that they're going to lose this person too, just like they've already lost everything else and oh GOD. Maybe they choose to forget about them and move on, stay alone and mourn what could have been if the universe hadn't had such a fucked sense of humor. Maybe they choose to accept it, but never let their SM too close because they know they'll just be hurt so much more hurt when the inevitable comes.

Then you have to think about decepticons having to possibly protect their SM from other cons! From being taken and 'saved' by the autobots.

Imagine some bots or cons just flying off the handle, going crazy just to try and keep their human alive in any way they possibly can, afraid of running out of time.

(Starscream lovers forgive me for the angst)

And Starscream especially, Maybe he'd try. He'd have a great time, take a chance, and give it a go. But what if he's actually terrified? Maybe he'd also self sabotage a little, knowing the relationship will never last too long anyways; not in the short blink of time it would be next to his life. Maybe, he doesn't actually know what to do with himself in a positive relationship after being, i dunno, consistently dogged on by megatron and he freezes.

There's something actually good for him, and since he isn't sure how to receive or accept that fact, he's gone. And maybe he'll come back, but the cycle could repeat.

(Im sorry, unless you put a tracker on him and call his ass and really give him some therapy. get him some god damn therapy.)

But yeah. All around, the angst potential is immense for this stuff and it makes me sad to think about so I thought i would share it instead of just write about it in an actual fic because my character analysis and ability to comprehend my own thoughts is so shit.

Okay, CIAOOOOOO~

[nhoeer]

My second artwork for my Shattered Glass fic.

[andauserene]

Transformers Masterlist!!

Bumblebee

Optimus Prime

Knockout

Shockwave

Soundwave

Ratchet

Bulkhead

Wheeljack

Arcee

Airachnid

Smokescreen

Cliffjumper

Starscream

Makeshift

Predaking

Hot Rod

Rodimus Prime

Orion Pax

D-16

Swerve

First Aid

Prowl

Sideswipe

More coming soon! Last revision : Mon, Oct 28, 2024

[tooner-tastic]

shattered glass au of transformers one my beloved

[merlinfromberlin]

A Little Left of Right - Chapter 3

And it only took me a few weeks, neat.

In this chapter: Bee mets (some of) the Shattered Glass Cons.

Chapter: 3/? Wordcount: roughly 4k words

Also, please have this funny out of context, outtake from my editing process. I laughed way too hard when I noticed that one.

[annabelle-creart]

TF KINKTOBER DAY #1: Exhibiscionism || Filming/Photographing

CW: Valvepluge. Sexcall. Videocall. Masturbation.

Ship: BumbleBlades

Au: Shattered Glass

"Pff- HAHAHA!" Blades voice resonated on all the place, disturbing a bit the audio, it was like those crying toys Blades showed him before "For Unicron's sake! Bee, You're so funny!" Fortunately the ship was alone today, so no one would distract the bot from his call with his 'cutsie'

"Ah, it's just some things big OP tell me to do, nothing from other world" Goldbug boasted, shifting his legs on his chair for comfort, usually, when Gold says those kind of things, bots feel disgusted, but (still not sure if it's a blessing or a curse) Blades only feels admiration and delightment each time Gold tell him about his "adventures", he was so trustful with him that he wasn't scared or shameful of calling him by his old name, and Bee never said anything about it

"You know" Blades calmed the tone, getting closer to the screen, "that excites me"

"Pff, am I rizzing you up?"

"Yes, you do"

"I'm not even trying!" Gold started to laugh, hiding his face with his servo, but Blades was already looking deeply on his optics, supporting his head with one servo, when Gold looked a little bit down, he saw Blades' other servo too close to his clutch, enough to actually think what Blades means "I'm glad is so easy for me to high your day"

"You do it all the time" Blades lowered again the tune, now more playful, his orange optics placed on Gold's frame

"You look like you want to play something"

"Not 'play', but yes, I would like to"

It was obvious, the call always sends a notification when the other starts recording the video, but it was not the first time and Blades didn't care for it, actually, he liked it too much.

Bee openeded his legs, letting see his clutch, his panel wasn't opened yet but his optics tell everything. Blades was more of play pretend first, hiding a bit was his fave part, he opened his legs and his panel was open, but didn't showed to the camera, only his wrist going up and down was viewable for Bee

"Oh, come on!" Bee begged for Blades, knowing it wouldn't work, but Blades liked that Bee beg for him, to convice Blades was their favorite part "let me see a bit"

"No" Blades joked, but did so, he raised one leg only to let Bee know he had to beg a little more "I'm not hearing you"

"Why do I always have to beg you?" Gold rolled his optics but kept a mischevious smile, and got closer to the camera as if he could see more by it "please..."

"I don't see you properly" Blades laughed a bit, feeling his cold digit agasinst his valve, Gold understood the indirect, so, he moved the camera, enough for Blades to see his face but he could also see his clutch properly

"Hm, how I miss it" Blades passed his own digit around his chin, licking some, remembering how he played with Bee's spike back on Cybertron

"I miss your mouth on it too" both chuckled, at the same time, reminiscing those moments with both fun and pleasure

"You just want a cock warmer"

"I don't remember pushing your neck to me" Bee replied Blades' joke "But I do remember you get out of my spike only to eat it whole" Bee had one servo on his spike, caressing it with his digits, Blades could see it, figuring the way Bee caressed himself was pretty similar to how Blades remembered he did "and I remember you were really good at it"

"I'm sure I still am, I'm just out of practice" Blades moved again to have his valve more on the view, finally Bee could see more of it, and Blades was already wet "But I also remember you never let me go even after you had an overload, I remember I once thought you wanted more, and then you said your frame was cold!"

"Please, let's make like that never happened" Bee's breath changed, it was a bit more fast now, feeling like a goosebump on his clutch

"I can't" Blades breath was also different, maybe to see Bee like that excited him more "it was so cute!"

"It was stupid"

"No... it was hot" Blades reclined his head on the chair, his valve felt like bumping and his digits were also full of transfluid, Bee could see it, wishing to be with Blades, to handle his hips, to do jugling with his glossa and pass his digits through the wet valve, to press them inside while kissing his neck and then dip his own spike with Blades transfluids and be inside him, he wanted to be the reason of Blades' moans, which only excited him more, moving his wrist through his spike up and down, spitting coolant on it to make the movement easier, he wanted to be for Blades, imagining what is Blades feeling, he was moaning, inserting his digits on his valve and passing his other servo through his mouth, was he also dreaming of have inside Bee's spike or fingers, or maybe was he dreaming of a glossa instead? Bee could also think of Blades long and playful glossa on his spike, he was a terrorcon after all, that wasn't strange, and it was actually what Bee missed the most of interfacing.

"Bee?" Blades called between moans

"Hm?" Bee replied softly, wondering if it was just Blades excitement or was actually calling, never letting his servo appart

"I wish you were the one fucking me right now"

"I know"

"No, I mean" Blades was interrupted by his own frame, like a tickle and a high, his vents and motor were hot and his clutch was sensible, nothing ached but the feeling of exhaustion hit him for a moment

When Blades saw the screen, Bee was just on it, not letting go until his spike couldn't more, also with some exhaustion but also some relief, he breathed properly after a moment of relaxation

"What were you saying? Sorry" Bee retook the conversation, Blades paused a moment, this time glued on his Bee's optics

"I miss you"

[blueskyscribeupdates]

I am once again pecking away at "Life in Glass Houses" like a songbird confronted with a pastry that is seemingly too large for it.

As a thanks to all my wonderful readers, I decided to share a scene from the next chapter. :) Truly, thank you all!

The wind whirled through deeply trenched streets and around the steel towers, pulling at the curtain domed over the balcony.  Knockdown's hand kept it in place, gauze loosely gripped in his slender fingers as he gazed down at the city.  His eyes moved from one familiar haunt to another: the park where he had learned to fly as a clumsy newspark, the creche where he had been taught his letters and had his wings measured twice weekly, the medical school where his destiny had been set for him, and the hospital where he had fulfilled it.  There was the bar where the interns complained about the senior staff, and the cafe where the senior staff complained about the interns. Midways up a steel-strutted building was the first modest apartment that had been all his own, and many stories higher was the luxurious one that came later.  

(The one he was standing in.  A moment of doubt, of vertigo almost, rolled through his circuits, but after a moment the ripples smoothed out. To hang back, to watch himself from afar, what was so odd about that?)

Other familiar sights were tucked between the silvery bars of the skyscrapers and apartment towers.  The plaza where open-air concerts played in the summer.  The clinic in the Dredges, where he volunteered in the rainy season. Dancers from a dozen incongruous festivals paraded through the streets.  Even from this height, he caught the thin echos of joyous shouts and familiar songs.  The skies were filled with Seekers swooping and laughing.

Knockdown pulled back from the balcony's edge and let the curtain fall. He didn't turn around, but he was not startled when a hand settled on his shoulder, enormous and smelling of crude oil.  A huge thumb rubbed over the flat of his wing.  He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

"Whatcha looking at?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"  The deep voice held a gentle reproach.

Knockdown opened his eyes. He half expected to see a smoke-wreathed battlefield or a small blue planet through a warship's window, but the view was the same: the city of Vos stretching exuberantly skyward, made misty by the curtain.  A flock of young jets tore past playing a rowdy game of air-tag, followed by trines moving in deliberate patterns.  Wingtip to wingtip, they arched and rolled in perfect synchronicity, the silky, wide ribbons behind them twining in loops and braids.

"What are they doing?"

"Courting. It's the Festival of Diamonds." Knockdown turned towards Brakeline, resting his cheek against his broad chest. It was as warm as he remembered.  "You should go."

"Why?" The hands fit comfortably around his waist.

"Because that's what happens." Knockdown swallowed, waiting until he was sure his vocalizer wouldn't glitch.  "Anyway, you don't belong here."

"And you do?" A huge hand cupped his chin, tilted it up.

This won't fix anything. It's not real.

Knockdown surged onto the tips of his pedes to meet Brakeline's kiss.  His spark hammered. The ice within him cracked, melt, before the heat of his longing.  Behind him the wind whipped the draperies and the trines roared in their flight.

"I love you," Brakeline said breathlessly when they broke apart.  "I'll never leave you."

"No?" Knockdown sombered. He turned away, his hands catching the curtains, leaning into them for support.  "And yet I'm alone."

"What do you mean? I'm right here."

"Only in my dreams."  

For a moment Brakeline was silent.  Then, quietly: "Do you miss me?"

The white gauze billowed around Knockdown's fist.  His vision blurred; tears, perhaps, or a creeping frost.  "You dare ask me that?"

No answer came.  

"Brakeline?" Knockdown turned around to face the replica of his old apartment: just as he remembered it, perfect in every detail.  And perfectly empty. 

He woke up.

[ughohyoumadeafunny]

Scenes idea- The final straw from the council of elders(and sentinals fall to villany) ( transformers animated)

For many moments in transformers, sentinal prime is considered the scumbag of autobots for his ego and self centered nature. He cares nothing but himself and when it comes to the safty of other sentiant beings, he just sees them as nothing. He'll even do things that would make primus ashamed.

So for some scenes that would come somewhere in season 4, I wanna see a moment where Sentinal prime get what he deserves.

So for this, we need to set up afew things.

1. Sentinal prime takes it to far agin

2. Even optimus and Ultra has had enough

3. Sentinal needs to be caught

4. The elders learn of all sentinals actions.

Now, after he is punished and exiled, who would he become?

Well, I have an idea, and some of you may not like it.

But I wanna make him somthing close to megatron from beast machines.

We already seen blackarachnia meet the animals that were used in beast wars, so maybe in season 4, while she is slowly being redeemed, we see sentinal's ego make him worst and worst. If he can't be a prime, no one can.

Maybe don't make him stuck in one place, but do have a moment were he becomes a predicon, I realy even wanna see him become Tarantulas in this series

[ask-sg-optimus-prime]

I'm writing a fanfiction and I need help deciding: should I kill Alpha Trion via cosmic rust?

Too merciful.

Remove his limbs via a method of your choice, then let him bleed out.

[dazzlemma]

Finally, my preview for the @tf-bigbang

What we have here folks, is a story of two sad, broken gay men being sad and broken and gay together. It is my interpretation of how an Overlord x Trepan relationship might form in the Shattered Glass universe. Not really a slow burn, but lots of comfort sought after past hurt. Like, tooth-rotting amounts of fluff in this one.

Lovely art for the fic has been done by @glasspunkart and I can’t wait for everyone to see the full thing!

[greyliliy]

My Shattered Glass SpikeBee fic just got an update. A four year gap between chapters isn't that bad. XD

[elfdragon12]

Sg Mirage meets Og Strongarm and is quite pleasant with her. Og Sideswipe likes her and she seems like a nice and lovely femme. The next time he sees her and Sides, he has two bouquets of flowers for them.

Two partners means more people to give him the positive attention he so desperately needs! And he has learned his lessons on boundaries with therapy and all that, so he does his best to be friendly and welcoming rather than overbearing.

Their first meeting:

(1000th Anon SG Fanfic reply!!! Here's to more AU fun in the future!)

[nhoeer]

[dimorphodon-x]

Through the Captain's Eyes

Wanted to go back to that miniseries I wrote a short while back about @cuppajj's SG sentient Lost Light AU, this time a few excerpts that are in Rodimus' POV. Figured it might be a bit fun to try to write as well as hopefully help me exercise in writing Roddy at least a little bit.

I most certainly got some of the continuity wrong but honestly I don't really care and I'm too tired to try and fix it anyway lol.

—

—

Pain ripped through Rodimus’ chest and arm, but he didn’t scream. An odd sense of relief instead filled his foggy mind, and he suddenly felt light. Yes, he actually felt good. This was great! Finally!

He reset his optics and glanced at the two giant smoking craters that had blasted the left side of his chest open. How did this happen exactly? His memories were clouded, and it didn’t help that he was actively bleeding out.

The prime’s vision was starting to fail as alerts clogged up his thoughts. His head fell back against the captain’s seat as he stared blankly at the door. The walls lurched for him as his gaze focused on the deep slashes on the doorframe, and he spotted a familiar glint of blue in the torn metal before he slipped into unconsciousness. Yes, good. Finally.

…

Rodimus again opened his eyes, blinking a few times. What happened? Where…? Oh…

Oh no…

He was still here. 

The unpleasant throbbing coming from his shoulder said that the injuries hadn’t been a dream. So what…?

Rodimus felt his spark freeze as he spotted the familiar white shiny armor clinging to his rotten frame. It had been crudely ripped apart, cut up and welded back together. 

The prime turned his attention to the door again, particularly the deep cuts on the frame. Small splatters of energon revealed the location of a few blue talons. If it wasn’t clear enough that they had been violently ripped from Starhawk’s fingertips, their tiny deeply set muscle cords hung from their bases. 

Red eyes again flitted back down to the white armor on his shoulder and chest. Rodimus’ vents stuttered and wheezed as his spark spun frantically.

‘No no no…’

“Ah, Captain! I’m so glad you’re alright!”

‘No no no!”

The Lost Light’s holoavatar stepped into view, a warm smile on their deceitful face. Rodimus wanted to shout obscenities at them and throw them across the room.

“I was so worried!” Their smile widened, “it took a lot of work to make sure you stayed alive, and I’ve been waiting anxiously for you to finally awaken again. I’m so relieved.”

The mix-mashed prime just stared quietly at Lightlost. He couldn’t really do much else, as much as he wanted to.

The avatar turned their attention to the doorframe and frowned, “but it was certainly an unpleasant surprise when Starhawk suddenly turned on you. I thought he loved you.”

They approached the door to further examine the damage, “but if he did, then why would he do something so horrible to you? There’s only one explanation of course…”

Rodimus’s fingers itched to move as he watched the avatar start to remove the talons imbedded in the frame, ‘Where is Starhawk? Where is he?!’

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Lightlost hummed, “if you are wondering where he is… well. He was too dangerous to keep around. After that stunt he pulled, I had no choice.”

Another rattle went through Rodimus’ vents. No. They didn’t… no way…

But the evidence was all right there, slapped onto this very frame and stuck in the wall.

Lightlost had killed Starhawk.

The avatar paused as they heard the captain’s frame rattle, wheeze and hiccup. Upon turning around, they’d see tears start rolling down his cracked face.

“Oh Captain…”

…

It didn’t take long for Rodimus to start slipping back into his own head again. The best way to make time pass by faster was to ignore it, and what else was he supposed to do?

He almost didn’t hear the soft shift and creak of metal approaching him. It was certainly not Lightlost. The avatar made virtually no sound, being made up of light.

White armor stalked into his line of sight. Wait… what?

Cold fingers carefully slipped under his chin and his head was tilted back. Rodimus felt his processor stall at the sight before him. Starhawk, seemingly alive, with half a face and the inner workings of his chest exposed on one side. Drool dripped from the exposed teeth on the damaged side. Were they always that sharp? Was this a nightmare? A dream?

The apparition (for what else could this be?) studied the prime’s face, hesitation flitting through his pale optics. Rodimus’ spark spun as he stared back.

“R…od…?”

His vents sucked in a breath and his eyes brightened. This wasn’t an apparition! Hawk was real! He was alive!

The white mangled mech twitched in surprise, his armor slightly flaring. Rodimus watched his optics dim in thought. While he had no way of knowing what Hawk was thinking, it was clear he was struggling as his face strained with desperation and frustration, and something else he couldn’t quite pick up. And he was drooling even more, which was… honestly gross.

Eventually Hawk’s expression hardened and he wiped off his face before crouching down low enough for him to press his broken crest against the prime’s in a rare embrace. It was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.

But what was that odd whirring sound behind him?

Starhawk flinched, his optics brightening as he stepped away, four tendrils reeling back into his back plates. Those were new. When did he get those things? They looked deadly. Oh, that answered his earlier question.

“I’ll… return,” the flier quietly croaked as he retreated into the shadows, “I’ll save you.”

‘I hope so,’ a sigh escaped Rodimus as Hawk vanished from his sight.

The doors opened and Lightlost walked in with a wide smirk.

‘I really hope so…’

…

Rodimus likely would’ve fallen right back mentally if it weren’t for the few times Starhawk visited him. His visitations were short, and far from sweet. The odd jet often circled the chair he was resting on like a frustrated predator, which he really sold the appearance of when he crawled on all fours, forearms stretched and part of his legs bent and reshaped to better support such a style of locomotion. It was honestly a rather bizarre sight.

‘Ow!’ Rodimus silently shot Hawk a glare when he lunged forward, tucking his head under his arm, and sinking long teeth into his back.

At least the fraggin weirdo had the decency to look somewhat sheepish as he backed off to examine him again. What the hell was he doing anyway?

He never did get an answer as the apparent sparkeater slunk back into the wall through the vent, leaving Rodimus alone for another long while.

And of course, the ship’s avatar eventually discovered the bite marks the jerk left behind. Just great.

…

Hawk had stopped visiting.

Rodimus wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting, but it had been a long time. Things occasionally happened on the ship, mostly curious and stupid trespassers, but he was almost never aware until after the Lost Light had taken care of it. And of course, Rodimus had a few more internals that needed to be replaced. That always sucked. He always felt nauseous after every new replacement, and couldn’t relay his discomfort to Lightlost. Not that he wanted to anyway.

But this time Rodimus tried not to retreat back into his head again. He had no reason to think Starhawk was truly dead now, reasoning that he may be trying to work out a plan of escape and it was taking him a while, or even just waiting for some kind of opportunity. He knew Hawk could be very patient if he needed to be, something that Rodimus couldn’t really say for himself under more normal circumstances.

But now he had to deal with nightmares. Or just dreams in general. Oftentimes, he dreamed that Hawk successfully killed him. He either slashed his throat or bashed his head in, or successfully shot his spark. The worst dreams were when Hawk truly was dead, perhaps having already died with everyone else. Rodimus sat completely alone for eons, trapped in his own rotten frame as deafening silence engulfed him.

Those ones made him feel sick every time he finally woke up from them.

Rodimus was suddenly jostled from another dream as a pair of deathly cold arms hurriedly scooped him up from the captain’s seat. His optics had yet to fully online when he felt icy tendrils tangled themselves around his body, tightening uncomfortably around joints and loose plating. The pointed prongs at the ends dug under armor and into vents, close to some very critical functions. The paralyzed prime blinked as he stared up at Starhawk, panic starting to rise as the monstrous jet grinned down at him with half a face and a wild look in his pale eyes.

“We’re getting out of here,” his voice came out in a crackling snarl, drool grossly dripping from his maw and onto the captain’s platting. Ew ew ew ew, “one way or another, Dear Captain.”

The remaining talons Hawk still had painfully dug into his frame and Rodimus silently wheezed as he was squeezed against his chest, the tendrils slowly tightened their grip.

Rodimus barely noticed or heard Lightlost confront the sparkeater, his thoughts running wildly through his head as again he was constricted by Hawk’s dangerous embrace. 

And before he knew it, they were racing down dark corridors, Starhawk barely containing the manic sneer on his face as he clutched Rodimus tightly and securely, his hold never faltering.

Excitement bubbled up in Rodimus’ chest as he realized the Lost Light wasn’t stopping them. Of course, Making a move against Hawk when he was able to maim or even kill Rodimus within an instant wouldn’t be wise. However this was going to turn out, it seemed like they would both finally be free from the sentient ship.

Oh this just had to be a dream.

He waited to wake up as they neared a tiny Decepticon ship left behind by a recent trespasser. He continued to wait as the door closed behind them and Hawk stepped over a colorless corpse to get to the controls.

As the ship shot out of the hangar and into the vast abyss of space, Rodimus felt his spark sing with realization.

This wasn’t a dream.

They had actually escaped. He was finally free!

The relief and excitement was overwhelming. Rodimus felt his frame tremble and his eyes stung. Starhawk eventually looked down at him and his expression softened in a way Rodimus couldn’t remember ever seeing.

“I did say that I’d save you, didn’t I?” He chuckled and actually nuzzled against his face, engine purring as he loosened his hold on Rodimus. ‘You did,’ Rodimus wanted to respond as the white jet started to laugh, ‘god I love you!’

[byshz]

I translated it into English and there might be some mistakes in translation since my mother language was not English

[shapeshiftingcloud]

HEY YOU! YEAH YOU!

Do you write fanfic or write comics and get confused about fictional time units namely Cybertronian (Transformers) time units?

Well then do I have a thing for you!

Behold a thing that took me weeks to code!

https://studio.code.org/projects/applab/FxwR4O0HitQA7pjAOs9PS-Uj5wLZymeJX4tD_EBd_FE?qr=true