Trey'

I write things when I'm falling asleep. He/Him

[treyzth]

LET'S FUCKING GO SPAIN RAAAAAH

[treyzth]

Maybe Cybertronians and humans are completely different species, but they probably still manage to match each other when it comes to bad habits. Though this largely depends on the continuity in question.

Now, I couldn’t get a scene out of my head that I imagined involving the Bayverse Hound.

Hound was standing beside you, both of you gazing up at the starry sky in total silence while you sat on a pile of scrap metal and trash that raised you to a considerable height in the Junkyard.

—I’d probably need several shots just to hit one of those things. —Hound pointed toward one of the stars as he spoke, the bullet, which looked like a cigarette, moving slightly in his intake.

Beside him, you were finishing a cigarette, and after holding the smoke in your mouth for a few moments, you exhaled to speak, holding the object between your fingers.

—In your dreams. —You paused briefly before continuing— Do Cybertronians even dream?

Meanwhile, a considerable distance away from the conversation, Drift and Crosshairs exchanged glances for a few moments before each pointed at one of the “cigarettes” you were holding.

—What’s so special about holding something smoky in their intakes? —Drift asked, crossing his arms.

—Just one of their weird things. —Crosshairs voice came out with a hint of indifference as he shrugged.

[treyzth]

Having an "old" Cybertronian fall in love with you is kind of bound to feel strange, setting aside the romantic or tender aspects, considering a human is lucky to reach eighty, while the machine is thousands of years old.

Related to that, this is a random scenario that occurred to me last night about Jetfire from the Bayverse movies, pre-ROTF events.

Jetfire’s frame moved with a certain clumsiness across the desolate desert; his metal plating caught the fading sunlight as day turned to dusk, signaling the return of the night cycle on the humans' planet. Yet, he wasn't here for a fight this time, he wanted to prove to the human he was with and the one he had fallen for, that he hadn't lost his old combat prowess.

—Gharh! —Jetfire leaned on the metal staff held in one of his servos, coughing for a moment; a slightly distorted sound emitted from his voice box, betraying his advanced age.

Meanwhile, as you sat perched on one of his shoulder plates, you felt a distinct sense of doubt regarding his claims of "former glory." You let out a weary sigh, gripping the edge of his shoulder tightly to steady yourself.

—Behold! The former glory of a Cybertronian! —Jetfire exclaimed, raising an arm. His gears let out a faint screech before he attempted to fire at some ruins nestled among the distant dunes.

However, the missile suddenly shot off in the wrong direction, defying all odds, it veered sharply off-course during its rapid flight, detonating against a nearby mound of sand instead.

Jetfire let out an annoyed groan and shook his head, the metal plating of his jaw shifting in unison, trying to shake off the sand that had rained down on him from the detour.

As for you, you stood stunned for a few moments, you’d had a bad feeling, yet a shred of hope remained. That hope didn't last long, however, now that you even had sand in your mouth.

—Well... maybe it didn't work quite as well as it did back in my day. —Jetfire said, glancing back over his shoulder, his old red optics scanned your sand-covered form.

—I guess so. —you replied after a moment of silence, your tone neutral, masking the annoyance beneath your shock.

[treyzth]

The thought of a Cybertronian being sickeningly obsessed with the reader, assuming they are human, is probably terrifying from a realistic standpoint. Technically, there’s nothing you can do about it, and you’re in constant danger.

Like, imagine a Bayverse Starscream obsessed with the reader.:

—You don’t understand, human, I am both in the heavens and on earth. —Starscream’s voice came out with an unsteady tone, almost humanly deranged in his obsession.

—Leave me alone already, damn it! —you said in a fed-up tone, with a hint of hidden terror, before taking a few steps back.

Starscream’s shadow loomed over you amid the city’s buildings, the dust from the nearby structures, now reduced to rubble, stirring wisps of smoke on the ground. Amidst the dust on the pavement, a few drops of blood fell onto it. You had been injured by Starscream's sudden, violent lunge, your body covered in cuts and wounds.

—Call out, scream for your unbearable human army, but they’re nothing more than… a nuisance, not even a significant one. —Starscream’s voice carried a noticeable momentary disgust as he mentioned those military humans.

You wanted to back away, and even though it was physically impossible for you to fight that Cybertronian, a part of you still harbored hostility in the face of the dangerous situation.

—What is your problem?! —you said, your breathing slightly ragged.

—You’re my problem, human!… You don’t feel the same way, and if you don’t, I’ll keep trying over and over again. —Starscream took a few steps forward, one of his claws suddenly and abruptly coming to a violent halt right next to your head— Even if it means having to get rid of every last one of those miserable humans by your side.

[treyzth]

Usually, the reader reincarnates as a Cybertronian, but sometimes I wonder what would happen if it were the other way around. Just imagine having to get used to an organic body, weaker and less resilient.

[Megatron speaking with the reader after they explained everything that had happened to them.]

Reader: Lord Megatron, I—

Megatron: What happened, you were one of my most useful soldiers!

[treyzth]

Do ya all think that car cleaning products are like personal hygiene products for Cybertronians, like.:

Ad: "New vehicle air freshener, eliminates bad smell."

Reader: We should get you one of those.

Cybertronian: Excuse me?