Tiny Drift!

@tiny-drift

Why is Tiny!Drift so tiny? Why is he so cute? We just don't know. -- So there was this explosion in the lab and suddenly hundreds of tiny Drifts! I think Brainstorm did it. Okay, okay, not hundreds. But there are a bunch of us! Some of us are a lot more like Big Drift, some of us... are not. We like Rung, cuz he feeds us sweets. Ratchet and Perceptor and Rodimus are nice too! Whirl is scary! I don't like him. But one of us keeps challenging him. I like Ratchet and Rodimus especially. They're nice. <3 I like to chase things! Especially that red dot that keeps showing up. I'll get it one day. And then I'll show Ratchet! We can talk, or at least some of us can? I think? You have to get close and really listen, cuz if you don't it just sounds like squeaking.

225 posts

the-good-knockout

-chirps at-

The sound stops him in his tracks, touching on some long ago memory of the same tone. Looking from his datapad, Teal glances around him then shifts his gaze downward to find the source of the chirp, grinning once he did. Carefully lowering to a knee, the medic smiled at the tiny Drift.

“And how did you get here?” A question he didn’t really care if there was an answer to, the smaller the mech the easier they seemed to find a way into anywhere they wanted to go. “And how have you been? You look well. Still running off to adventures, I see.”

Drift cheeps happily at the recognition, and hugs the medic’s knee. “Been busy! Had to clean the nest all by myself, Deadlock’s being lazy!” He really didn’t mind, the mock-stern tone obvious. Drift was usually the lazy one when it came to cleaning.

#thegoodknockout

itisnotagunkink

@tiny-drift lookit what ‘Hide found in his gun cleaning kit!

#art reblogs #tiny drift likes #((A KEEPSAKE))

SMOL DROFT

He tilts his helm to the side and squeaks. “Drift! Not Droft!”

#thatonepinkdress900

medic-mum started following you

Drift just peers up at this new mecha. Not someone he recognizes, but at least they aren’t as big as the others... except the three minis on the ship. He cheeps at her.

#medic-mum #o hi mum

There’s a lot of noise coming out of one of the cabinets in the medbay. Drift has decided to clean the nest out, and he’s ignoring the chirping protests from his mate and grown children. The nest is dusty and full of candy wrappers tucked into corners and pockets.

Eventually the little family’s living area is clean, dirty cloths kicked out of the cabinet, leaving Deadlock and the triplets resentfully perched on a bare cushion. Drift doesn’t care, the dirty stuff had to go!

And with a loud cheep, he leaps out of the cabinet to go steal search for clean nesting material.

#ic status #when the mate and kids won't clean drifty will just boot them out of his way

this blog lives again

-wanders up at cheeps at you. You look weirdly familiar to tinydrift-

The sound from down below came faintly but he heard it as he slowly knelt down to see what had called to him. He didn’t know what to make of seeing his son’s former mate but so tiny. “Drift?”

He’s still a little stiff and sore from giving birth, but he happily scales the big mech’s leg to perch on his knee plating. “You look familiar. You know the big Drift?” He chirped.

"Know him? Yes, I do." Dai said softly before gently picking up the tiny swordsmech. He marveled at how small Drift was and dimmed his optics a little. The similarities between Wing and this tiny mech’s frame coloration were strikingly similar to the leader and he smiled faintly. "What is it you wanted to know?"

Drift went limp as he was picked up, purring hard. Being held felt good, the warmth of the big mech's hands was nice. Venting in an extremely contented fashion, Drift let his optics half close. He was entirely too comfortable to move now.

Crawling away from her brothers and carrier, Highspeed cheeps at her sire, demanding attention.

He had noticed his daughter crawling towards him and moved to lay with her, curling up around her with love and warmth pulsing in the parental bond. “My daughter…” He whispered as he held Highspeed close.

Highspeed chattered happily as her sire curled around her, squealing and patting his plating. Amused by the noise, she giggled and cuddled against him, adoration pulsing from her end of the bond.

His expression softened as he watched her, marveling at how he helped create her and her brothers to begin with while he held Highspeed close. He didn’t want to let anyone hurt his creations or his mate and he knew that it was going to be more than important that he kept the rest of the flock from causing them trouble. The adoration was responded to with love and warmth while Deadlock chittered and chirred lovingly to his offspring, nuzzling her in the process while stroking her tiny back with a hand.

Stretching as he woke, Drift chittered uneasily. Speedtrap and Swiftstripe were right here, but where was Highspeed? Lifting his helm, he relaxed as he caught sight of her and Deadlock.

Unaware of the scare she'd given her carrier, Highspeed cheeped happily at her sire, cuddling against him.

Crawling away from her brothers and carrier, Highspeed cheeps at her sire, demanding attention.

He had noticed his daughter crawling towards him and moved to lay with her, curling up around her with love and warmth pulsing in the parental bond. “My daughter…” He whispered as he held Highspeed close.

Highspeed chattered happily as her sire curled around her, squealing and patting his plating. Amused by the noise, she giggled and cuddled against him, adoration pulsing from her end of the bond.

-wanders up at cheeps at you. You look weirdly familiar to tinydrift-

The sound from down below came faintly but he heard it as he slowly knelt down to see what had called to him. He didn’t know what to make of seeing his son’s former mate but so tiny. “Drift?”

He's still a little stiff and sore from giving birth, but he happily scales the big mech's leg to perch on his knee plating. "You look familiar. You know the big Drift?" He chirped.

He whimpered as Deadlock moved him, clutching at his mate. “It’ll stop soon, right?” His instincts had kicked in by now, he knew their sparklings were coming.

The pain in his frame settled just above his valve, accompanied by intense pressure. He moaned in pain, his optics squeezing shut.

Drift yelped at the sudden feeling of his calipers opening, something pushing against the top of his valve, wailing in pain as his sensitive mesh stretched around it.

Deadlock reached into subspace and pulled out the tiny pain-killer that Ratchet gave him for such an occasion. It was strong enough for his mate but not strong enough to knock him unconscious. Once he managed to administer it, he placed a kiss to Drift’s finial and chittered soothingly.

"Keep cycling your vents evenly, my mate, and focus on pushing our sparklings out." He said quietly while moving to hold a hand.

Drift warbled gratefully as the pain faded. The pressure was still there, still enough to be uncomfortable, but Drift leaned his helm against his bondmate’s shoulder. He could only relax a moment though, the need to push becoming too strong.

It took a little while, Drift grunting with the effort of pushing, and finally a little bundle of wet metal slid out of him. It squirmed, the movements uncoordinated as it clicked.

Drift flopped back, already feeling his energy dipping. Ratchet had said there were three, right? He could feel something moving inside him, the pressure slowly building up again.

He held his mate close, wanting to clean up their sparkling but knowing there were two others coming. Deadlock clicked and chirped to the child, paternal instincts to protect and nurture coming out. But Drift needed him still.

"Two more, my mate." He said quietly, bringing the hand in his up to kiss the back of it. "You’re doing good."

Drift whined, hearing the newborn clicking. His instincts urged him to pick their sparkling up, hold it close, keep it warm. And at the same time, to stay where he was, to push again, because he could feel his valve stretching again.

The second sparkling quickly joined the first, squirming and clicking. Drift chittered in distress, too tired to sit upright to see them.

He could feel a deep ache starting in his struts and valve, and whimpered softly. Almost over, right? Squeezing Deadlock’s hand, he started pushing again.

The third came out, another tiny voice joining the first two in dismayed clicking. The first newborn quieted, wriggled towards his darker colored sibling, seeking warmth. The smallest clicked softly, shivering as his siblings curled together.

Drift just flopped back, too tired to move. The pressure was gone, replaced by that deep ache.

Deadlock’s optics dimmed slightly at how small and vulnerable their children were. Carefully, he made sure to move Drift enough so he could rest against the wall of the nest before going to tend to the little ones. He knew the cloth he brought to clean them with was a good idea.

Carefully and gently, he lifted each in turn to clean off the afterbirth from their frames. In this process, he learned to identify them each by scent as well as appearance. Once they were clean, he wrapped them into different pockets of the cloth and held them close with quiet clicks and chirring while shifting to sit back down beside his mate.

"Our children are here, my mate." He said softly before kissing Drift on the forehelm and moving to place the sparklings between them.

Drift curled up a little, relaxing into a little strutless pile. Deadlock could carry if they had any more.

The first sparkling squeaked as he was picked up, protesting as he was lifted away from the warmth of his siblings. Those squeaks of complaint were replaced with chirps, the little one nuzzling against Deadlock's hands as he was dried off.

His frame was a mix of his parents', more of Drift's brighter colors, orange optics, red stripes on his finials. He purred happily as he was wrapped up, snuggling into the cloth.

The second complained as well, trying to grab Deadlock's digits as he cleaned and dried the wet frame. A little femme, her frame was like her carrier's, slightly curvier, her colors mostly black and red. Red optics watched her sire as she was wrapped up.

The third, smaller than his siblings, was almost identical to his sire, his bright blue optics the only difference. He fussed like his siblings, squirming in Deadlock's hands.

Tucked between their creators, all three started cheeping, soft, tired noises. Drift curled against Deadlock, touching their sparklings, and chirred softly.

#highspeed swiftstripe/sidestripe and speedtrap maybe?

He whimpered as Deadlock moved him, clutching at his mate. “It’ll stop soon, right?” His instincts had kicked in by now, he knew their sparklings were coming.

The pain in his frame settled just above his valve, accompanied by intense pressure. He moaned in pain, his optics squeezing shut.

Drift yelped at the sudden feeling of his calipers opening, something pushing against the top of his valve, wailing in pain as his sensitive mesh stretched around it.

Deadlock reached into subspace and pulled out the tiny pain-killer that Ratchet gave him for such an occasion. It was strong enough for his mate but not strong enough to knock him unconscious. Once he managed to administer it, he placed a kiss to Drift’s finial and chittered soothingly.

"Keep cycling your vents evenly, my mate, and focus on pushing our sparklings out." He said quietly while moving to hold a hand.

Drift warbled gratefully as the pain faded. The pressure was still there, still enough to be uncomfortable, but Drift leaned his helm against his bondmate’s shoulder. He could only relax a moment though, the need to push becoming too strong.

It took a little while, Drift grunting with the effort of pushing, and finally a little bundle of wet metal slid out of him. It squirmed, the movements uncoordinated as it clicked.

Drift flopped back, already feeling his energy dipping. Ratchet had said there were three, right? He could feel something moving inside him, the pressure slowly building up again.

He held his mate close, wanting to clean up their sparkling but knowing there were two others coming. Deadlock clicked and chirped to the child, paternal instincts to protect and nurture coming out. But Drift needed him still.

"Two more, my mate." He said quietly, bringing the hand in his up to kiss the back of it. "You’re doing good."

Drift whined, hearing the newborn clicking. His instincts urged him to pick their sparkling up, hold it close, keep it warm. And at the same time, to stay where he was, to push again, because he could feel his valve stretching again.

The second sparkling quickly joined the first, squirming and clicking. Drift chittered in distress, too tired to sit upright to see them.

He could feel a deep ache starting in his struts and valve, and whimpered softly. Almost over, right? Squeezing Deadlock's hand, he started pushing again.

The third came out, another tiny voice joining the first two in dismayed clicking. The first newborn quieted, wriggled towards his darker colored sibling, seeking warmth. The smallest clicked softly, shivering as his siblings curled together.

Drift just flopped back, too tired to move. The pressure was gone, replaced by that deep ache.

He whimpered as Deadlock moved him, clutching at his mate. “It’ll stop soon, right?” His instincts had kicked in by now, he knew their sparklings were coming.

The pain in his frame settled just above his valve, accompanied by intense pressure. He moaned in pain, his optics squeezing shut.

Drift yelped at the sudden feeling of his calipers opening, something pushing against the top of his valve, wailing in pain as his sensitive mesh stretched around it.

Deadlock reached into subspace and pulled out the tiny pain-killer that Ratchet gave him for such an occasion. It was strong enough for his mate but not strong enough to knock him unconscious. Once he managed to administer it, he placed a kiss to Drift’s finial and chittered soothingly.

"Keep cycling your vents evenly, my mate, and focus on pushing our sparklings out." He said quietly while moving to hold a hand.

Drift warbled gratefully as the pain faded. The pressure was still there, still enough to be uncomfortable, but Drift leaned his helm against his bondmate's shoulder. He could only relax a moment though, the need to push becoming too strong.

It took a little while, Drift grunting with the effort of pushing, and finally a little bundle of wet metal slid out of him. It squirmed, the movements uncoordinated as it clicked.

Drift flopped back, already feeling his energy dipping. Ratchet had said there were three, right? He could feel something moving inside him, the pressure slowly building up again.

He grabbed for his mate, whining softly. “Hurts. Can’t get comfortable.” Drift curled himself against his mate, nuzzling into the darker plating.

Moments later he was squirming around again, whining in pain as it intensified briefly. As soon as it passed, he buried his face against Deadlock’s chest again.

He held Drift close, chirring soothingly while rubbing his back slowly. He knew the basic information on giving birth but never experienced it himself. Though watching his other half in such pain…

"You may have to open your interface panel for this." He murmured into his mate’s audial, massaging a finial slowly. "I’ll help you through it."

He whimpered as Deadlock moved him, clutching at his mate. "It'll stop soon, right?" His instincts had kicked in by now, he knew their sparklings were coming.

The pain in his frame settled just above his valve, accompanied by intense pressure. He moaned in pain, his optics squeezing shut.

Drift yelped at the sudden feeling of his calipers opening, something pushing against the top of his valve, wailing in pain as his sensitive mesh stretched around it.

sidsoldblog-deactivated20150318

He grabbed for his mate, whining softly. “Hurts. Can’t get comfortable.” Drift curled himself against his mate, nuzzling into the darker plating.

Moments later he was squirming around again, whining in pain as it intensified briefly. As soon as it passed, he buried his face against Deadlock’s chest again.

He held Drift close, chirring soothingly while rubbing his back slowly. He knew the basic information on giving birth but never experienced it himself. Though watching his other half in such pain…

"You may have to open your interface panel for this." He murmured into his mate’s audial, massaging a finial slowly. "I’ll help you through it."

Drift leaned into the touches on his finial, optics half shut as he relaxed a little. His squirming slowed as he cheeped gratefully.

He wasn't entirely sure why Deadlock was asking him to open up, but he did so. "It'll stop hurting soon, right?" Almost as soon as he stopped speaking, he felt something shift suddenly and yipped in surprise.

Clear fluid began leaking from his valve, and Drift chittered, unsettled.

Alone in the nest, Drift flailed around, whining in frustration. He couldn’t get comfortable. No matter how he laid or sat or stood, it wasn’t making the ache go away.

And it was getting worse. He flopped onto his side, whimpering as he curled up. It felt like something was...

He grabbed for his mate, whining softly. "Hurts. Can't get comfortable." Drift curled himself against his mate, nuzzling into the darker plating.

Moments later he was squirming around again, whining in pain as it intensified briefly. As soon as it passed, he buried his face against Deadlock's chest again.

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