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quixotical-lymbo · 4 months ago

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I saw that your requests were open and rushed over here as quick as I could!

I would LOVE to see more D-16 and Orion Pax, maybe a poly relationship of how they would act as a dynamic. Reader would be whatever you'd like for them to be and a miner as well, maybe they are the balance for the two to keep them in check? Can be fluff or angst, I'm not picky!

Im so excited to see what you do! Keep up the amazing work!

Pairing: D-16 x Orion Pax x mech!Reader Rating: SFW-ish Summary: When a balanced duo meets a like-minded bot like them, how will this shake the dynamic between the newly formed trio? Warnings/Tags: Pre-canon, does this count as spoilers?, angst, fluff, romantic gesture(s), oil baths, secret relationship(s), Elita-1 cameo, Orion gives you a nickname, reader is an archivist (lmao WAS an archivist). Word Count: 1600+ words

How did you three meet?

It was a normal day sorting through the records and making sure everything was in its proper place. You adjusted your spectacles before moving the box from your hip into two servos. The corridor you were walking in was long, empty, and cold. Not a single spark in sight and you preferred it that way.

As you pressed a button, the doors to a room slid open and you carried the box inside. Whistling a small tune, you placed the box on a table and paused when something clicked.

Looking over your shoulder, you found two pairs of optics staring at you. One as blue as the sky, the other as bright as the sun.

"....hey?"

"AAAAAAHHHHHH-MFPH!"

First Impressions:

D-16

🟡 Thought you were rather skittish and weird, especially after you almost got them both in trouble had it not been for Orion shushing you with his servo.

🟡 Thankfully, you were rather understanding, a bit naive, but understanding of their innocent intentions.

Orion Pax

🔵 You seemed like a nice mech.

🔵 A really nice mech when you didn't rat him and his buddy out to the guards when they approached the room to investigate the scream from earlier.

🔵 Your derpy spectacles and timid mannerism (he caught onto your nervous tics) made him believe you were one of those uptight bookworms. Not the bad kind or snobbish, but not a social type of bot.

🔵 He was proved wrong twice when you had the opportunity to turn them in, but choose not to after hearing the purpose of their 'visit.'

Shared interests:

Oh boy, who knew you were a fan of Megatronus? Orion had a 'pleasant' time hearing D-16 and their new acquaintance ramble on about how cool and awesome the Prime was.

When the conversation (more like fangirling) about Megatronus turned on Orion, the aforementioned mech spoke about the matrix and his goal in helping seek the location of it.

Cue flapping servos and a squeal that was shushed by D-16's servo over your intake.

Not only were you interested in learning about the Primes, mainly Megatronus, but you also were interested in finding the lost lore of the Matrix and any information you could get your servos on.

A friendship blossomed on that day and the three of you agreed to meet up at a bar or park whenever all of you had the time to do so.

Overall dynamic a friends:

You fit in pretty well with the duo.

Your eagerness to learn more despite the consequences and sometimes good judgment was a nice balance to D-16 sticking to protocol and Orion Pax's exasperating ideas.

Although your time spent with the two wasn't a lot compared to them working together in the mines, it didn't stop the bond from strengthening between you three.

You were D-16's backup whenever Orion had a ridiculous plan that could lead him getting demoted severely.

You were Orion's hype mech and source of information whenever the two of you felt like you had a lead in your goals.

You tend to call the red and blue mech Pax, even after being assured that you can call him Orion. After a while, Orion didn't mind the way you said his name, it felt…nice, like a 'special' thing between himself and you.

Overall, I'd say the three of you were great friends.

Until….

You picked up your pace and rubbed the glass of your spectacles from the smudge that happened to get on it. It was your off day and you wanted to spend as much of it with your friends as possible, especially when you had exciting news to share with them.

You nearly bumped into a few bots, apologizing to them anyway, as you maneuvered around the busy streets of Iacon. It did not take long for you to arrive at the mines. You skidded to a halt when you spotted a pink femme chatting with a few other bots.

You approached and before you could raise a digit to gain her attention she had long since spotted you.

Elita-1 rolled an optic and jabbed a digit in one direction, then you were off--scurrying towards the showers to find your friends.

"D? Pax?" You called as you stepped into the communal showers. The showers, which you've seen in some blueprints, were a shared space with only one or two baths built in.

Mutterings echoed off the tiled area that appeared vacant. If it wasn't for the sound of oil, you would've assumed so. You rose a ridge before continuing to walk deeper into the area, only to stop when the murmurs grew clearer.

"...Orion, we're going to be late…"

"C'mon, a little fun isn't going to make us late."

When you heard your designation spill from D-16's intake and more reassurance from Orion, you quickened your pace and rounded the corner to find a…well…sight to behold.

Orion was partially submerged in the bath with D-16 straddling him. Their gazes were filled with a passion you never saw whenever the three of you were hanging out. For some reason, a pang seized your spark and you took a step back but bumped into the wall.

The noise caused Orion and D to separate.

"___?!"

Energon shot to your faceplate added with the heat of the bath fogging up your spectacles caused you to stutter out a 'quick' sorry while attempting to escape. Oil splashed around as D-16 moved to the other end of the bath to cover his flushed face and Orion ran out of the bath to catch up…or rather, catch you.

Running in a slippery area was not a good idea.

You crashed onto the floor and shrieked when your ankles were snatched and you were pulled back toward the bath. Clawing at the floor, your futile attempts at breaking free caused Orion to drop your ankles and walk around to your front to grab both sides of your helm. D-16 watched as he leaned against the edge of the bath.

"____."

"Yes?" You squawked.

Orion smashed his dermas against yours. You felt weak and nearly melted into the kiss had it not been for the 'd'aww' coming from your other friend. You found the strength to withdraw from Orion and scoot back until you were a reasonable distance from both.

"What..why…huh??" You pointed to the two of them, you and Orion, and then to your dermas.

"We've…been meaning to tell you," D-16 started.

"Just hadn't found the right moment, but now that you know…we can finally tell you how much we like you!"

"...classy."

"Whaaat? ___ deserves to know about us and how we feel about them! All these secrets just felt..wrong, anyway-" Orion turned to look at you with a wide smile. "Whaddya say, starlight? You in?"

"Call a medic cause I'm about to have a spark attack."

Cue them panicking along with you.

And that's how you managed to become more than friends with your…well, friends.

First date?

A bar :)

Twas a fun time walking the two of them back to your home when they were drunk off of their processors

In the morning, you all comforted each other with the hangover pains

First kiss?

Orion already stole your first official kiss.

You and D's first kiss happened on the second date when you managed to 'borrow' some merch of his favorite Prime at a invite-only Iacon event. D legit swept you off your peds and kissed you hard enough you felt like you were seeing stars.

Demotion…

Yeah…courting a mech who's becoming notorious for sneaking into archives to look at restricted and sensitive data did not go over well with your higher ups.

You were demoted to a lower title that stripped you off your access to most records.

To say you were devastated was an understatement.

You couldn't even look at Orion in the optics for a while.

Arguments

This incident definitely caused a few disagreements in your relationship

First, D stopping Orion from visiting you too much so that you could have the space you needed

You felt like scrap for the boiling resentment you were feeling toward yourself, the relationship, and with Orion.

It all boiled over when Orion disregarded D's warning to stay away and managed to catch you during your working shift.

And…it didn't end nicely.

Names were called, not-so-good things were brought up, and you even called Orion a fragging screw up.

Making up

After the big fight and 'cold war' that was going on between you three, mainly you and D-16 vs Orion. Things…settled down when all of you sat down to talk about it for once.

Starting the conversation wasn't the easy part, discussion and apologizing was, especially when you and Orion were 'fighting' over how sorry you two were. D-16 had to shut the two of you up by holding you two idiots close in a hug.

Lots of servo-holding and cuddles happened that day :3

Overall dynamic as a polycule:

Healthy when communication isn't disrupted.

It's easy to play mediator if something does arise between two of you, but when all three of you are angry at each other? Eh, let's say there is a rule in the relationship to never bottle up your emotions for too long and communicate if you're upset about anything.

Jealousy….ohhhh, it doesn't happen often, but when someone gets a little too close Orion and D are on you like a starved bot on a pile of energon cubes.

Your relationship is discrete, only a few bots (including your higher ups) know of the true nature of your relationship with D-16 and Orion Pax.

Overall, it's a beautiful relationship....hopefully nothing bad will happen in the future wink wink.

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. banner(s) by @dollywons !!

#spectacles are glasses if that wasn't clear #transformers one spoilers #pre canon #megaop #orion pax x reader #d 16 x reader #polyamory #slight angst #fluff #headcanons #dating headcanons #x reader #listening to 'when he sees me' while writing this lol #quixotical answers #thanks for requesting

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago

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Dirty words are politically potent

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

Making up words is a perfectly cromulent passtime, and while most of the words we coin disappear as soon as they fall from our lips, every now and again, you find a word that fits so nice and kentucky in the public discourse that it acquires a life of its own:

http://meaningofliff.free.fr/definition.php3?word=Kentucky

I've been trying to increase the salience of digital human rights in the public imagination for a quarter of a century, starting with the campaign to get people to appreciate that the internet matters, and that tech policy isn't just the delusion that the governance of spaces where sad nerds argue about Star Trek is somehow relevant to human thriving:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell

Now, eventually people figured out that a) the internet mattered and, b) it was going dreadfully wrong. So my job changed again, from "how the internet is governed matters" to "you can't fix the internet with wishful thinking," for example, when people said we could solve its problems by banning general purpose computers:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

Or by banning working cryptography:

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/09/04/oh-for-fucks-sake-not-this-fucking-bullshit-again-cryptography-edition/

Or by redesigning web browsers to treat their owners as threats:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership

Or by using bots to filter every public utterance to ensure that they don't infringe copyright:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/09/today-europe-lost-internet-now-we-fight-back

Or by forcing platforms to surveil and police their users' speech (aka "getting rid of Section 230"):

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

Along the way, many of us have coined words in a bid to encapsulate the abstract, technical ideas at the core of these arguments. This isn't a vanity project! Creating a common vocabulary is a necessary precondition for having the substantive, vital debates we'll need to tackle the real, thorny issues raised by digital systems. So there's "free software," "open source," "filternet," "chat control," "back doors," and my own contributions, like "adversarial interoperability":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Or "Competitive Compatibility" ("comcom"), a less-intimidatingly technical term for the same thing:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/12/competitive-compatibility-year-review

These have all found their own niches, but nearly all of them are just that: niche. Some don't even rise to "niche": they're shibboleths, insider terms that confuse and intimidate normies and distract from the real fights with semantic ones, like whether it's "FOSS" or "FLOSS" or something else entirely:

https://opensource.stackexchange.com/questions/262/what-is-the-difference-between-foss-and-floss

But every now and again, you get a word that just kills. That brings me to "enshittification," a word I coined in 2022:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

"Enshittification" took root in my hindbrain, rolling around and around, agglomerating lots of different thoughts and critiques I'd been making for years, crystallizing them into a coherent thesis:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

This kind of spontaneous crystallization is the dividend of doing lots of work in public, trying to take every half-formed thought and pin it down in public writing, something I've been doing for decades:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

After those first couple articles, "enshittification" raced around the internet. There's two reasons for this: first, "enshittification" is a naughty word that's fun to say. Journalists love getting to put "shit" in their copy:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/15/crosswords/linguistics-word-of-the-year.html

Radio journalists love to tweak the FCC with cheekily bleeped syllables in slightly dirty compound words:

https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/projects/enshitification

And nothing enlivens an academic's day like getting to use a word like "enshittification" in a journal article (doubtless this also amuses the editors, peer-reviewers, copyeditors, typesetters, etc):

https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=enshittification&btnG=&oq=ensh

That was where I started, too! The first time I used "enshittification" was in a throwaway bad-tempered rant about the decay of Tripadvisor into utter uselessness, which drew a small chorus of appreciative chuckles about the word:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1550457808222552065

The word rattled around my mind for five months before attaching itself to my detailed theory of platform decay. But it was that detailed critique, coupled with a minor license to swear, that gave "enshittification" a life of its own. How do I know that the theory was as important as the swearing? Because the small wave of amusement that followed my first use of "enshittification" petered out in less than a day. It was only when I added the theory that the word took hold.

Likewise: how do I know that the theory needed to be blended with swearing to break out of the esoteric realm of tech policy debates (which the public had roundly ignored for more than two decades)? Well, because I spent two decades writing about this stuff without making anything like the dents that appeared once I added an Anglo-Saxon monosyllable to that critique.

Adding "enshittification" to the critique got me more column inches, a longer hearing, a more vibrant debate, than anything else I'd tried. First, Wired availed itself of the Creative Commons license on my second long-form article on the subject and reprinted it as a 4,200-word feature. I've been writing for Wired for more than thirty years and this is by far the longest thing I've published with them – a big, roomy, discursive piece that was run verbatim, with every one of my cherished darlings unmurdered.

That gave the word – and the whole critique, with all its spiky corners – a global airing, leading to more pickup and discussion. Eventually, the American Dialect Society named it their "Word of the Year" (and their "Tech Word of the Year"):

https://americandialect.org/2023-word-of-the-year-is-enshittification/

"Enshittification" turns out to be catnip for language nerds:

https://becauselanguage.com/90-enpoopification/#transcript-60

I've been dragged into (good natured) fights over the German, Spanish, French and Italian translations for the term. When I taped an NPR show before a live audience with ASL interpretation, I got to watch a Deaf fan politely inform the interpreter that she didn't need to finger-spell "enshittification," because it had already been given an ASL sign by the US Deaf community:

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/go-fact-yourself/ep-158-aida-rodriguez-cory-doctorow/

I gave a speech about enshittification in Berlin and published the transcript:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

Which prompted the rock-ribbed Financial Times to get in touch with me and publish the speech – again, nearly verbatim – as a whopping 6,400 word feature in their weekend magazine:

https://www.ft.com/content/6fb1602d-a08b-4a8c-bac0-047b7d64aba5

Though they could have had it for free (just as Wired had), they insisted on paying me (very well, as it happens!), as did De Zeit:

https://www.zeit.de/digital/internet/2024-03/plattformen-facebook-google-internet-cory-doctorow

This was the start of the rise of enshittification. The word is spreading farther than ever, in ways that I have nothing to do with, along with the critique I hung on it. In other words, the bit of string that tech policy wonks have been pushing on for a quarter of a century is actually starting to move, and it's actually accelerating.

Despite this (or more likely because of it), there's a growing chorus of "concerned" people who say they like the critique but fret that it is being held back because you can't use it "at church or when talking to K-12 students" (my favorite variant: "I couldn't say this at a NATO conference"). I leave it up to you whether you use the word with your K-12 students, NATO generals, or fellow parishoners (though I assure you that all three groups are conversant with the dirty little word at the root of my coinage). If you don't want to use "enshittification," you can coin your own word – or just use one of the dozens of words that failed to gain public attention over the past 25 years (might I suggest "platform decay?").

What's so funny about all this pearl-clutching is that it comes from people who universally profess to have the intestinal fortitude to hear the word "enshittification" without experiencing psychological trauma, but worry that other people might not be so strong-minded. They continue to say this even as the most conservative officials in the most staid of exalted forums use the word without a hint of embarrassment, much less apology:

https://www.independent.ie/business/technology/chairman-of-irish-social-media-regulator-says-europe-should-not-be-seduced-by-mario-draghis-claims/a526530600.html

I mean, I'm giving a speech on enshittification next month at a conference where I'm opening for the Secretary General of the United Nations:

https://icanewdelhi2024.coop/welcome/pages/Programme

After spending half my life trying to get stuff like this into the discourse, I've developed some hard-won, informed views on how ideas succeed:

First: the minor obscenity is a feature, not a bug. The marriage of something long and serious to something short and funny is a happy one that makes both the word and the ideas better off than they'd be on their own. As Lenny Bruce wrote in his canonical work in the subject, the aptly named How to Talk Dirty and Influence People:

I want to help you if you have a dirty-word problem. There are none, and I'll spell it out logically to you.

Here is a toilet. Specifically-that's all we're concerned with, specifics-if I can tell you a dirty toilet joke, we must have a dirty toilet. That's what we're all talking about, a toilet. If we take this toilet and boil it and it's clean, I can never tell you specifically a dirty toilet joke about this toilet. I can tell you a dirty toilet joke in the Milner Hotel, or something like that, but this toilet is a clean toilet now. Obscenity is a human manifestation. This toilet has no central nervous system, no level of consciousness. It is not aware; it is a dumb toilet; it cannot be obscene; it's impossible. If it could be obscene, it could be cranky, it could be a Communist toilet, a traitorous toilet. It can do none of these things. This is a dirty toilet here.

Nobody can offend you by telling a dirty toilet story. They can offend you because it's trite; you've heard it many, many times.

https://www.dacapopress.com/titles/lenny-bruce/how-to-talk-dirty-and-influence-people/9780306825309/

Second: the fact that a neologism is sometimes decoupled from its theoretical underpinnings and is used colloquially is a feature, not a bug. Many people apply the term "enshittification" very loosely indeed, to mean "something that is bad," without bothering to learn – or apply – the theoretical framework. This is good. This is what it means for a term to enter the lexicon: it takes on a life of its own. If 10,000,000 people use "enshittification" loosely and inspire 10% of their number to look up the longer, more theoretical work I've done on it, that is one million normies who have been sucked into a discourse that used to live exclusively in the world of the most wonkish and obscure practitioners. The only way to maintain a precise, theoretically grounded use of a term is to confine its usage to a small group of largely irrelevant insiders. Policing the use of "enshittification" is worse than a self-limiting move – it would be a self-inflicted wound. As I said in that Berlin speech:

Enshittification names the problem and proposes a solution. It's not just a way to say 'things are getting worse' (though of course, it's fine with me if you want to use it that way. It's an English word. We don't have der Rat für englische Rechtschreibung. English is a free for all. Go nuts, meine Kerle).

Finally: "coinage" is both more – and less – than thinking of the word. After the American Dialect Society gave honors to "enshittification," a few people slid into my mentions with citations to "enshittification" that preceded my usage. I find this completely unsurprising, because English is such a slippery and playful tongue, because English speakers love to swear, and because infixing is such a fun way to swear (e.g. "unfuckingbelievable"). But of course, I hadn't encountered any of those other usages before I came up with the word independently, nor had any of those other usages spread appreciably beyond the speaker (it appears that each of the handful of predecessors to my usage represents an act of independent coinage).

If "coinage" was just a matter of thinking up the word, you could write a small python script that infixed the word "shit" into every syllable of every word in the OED, publish the resulting text file, and declare priority over all subsequent inventive swearers.

On the one hand, coinage takes place when the coiner a) independently invents a word; and b) creates the context for that word that causes it to escape from the coiner's immediate milieu and into the wider world.

But on the other hand – and far more importantly – the fact that a successful coinage requires popular uptake by people unknown to the coiner means that the coiner only ever plays a small role in the coinage. Yes, there would be no popularization without the coinage – but there would also be no coinage without the popularization. Words belong to groups of speakers, not individuals. Language is a cultural phenomenon, not an individual one.

Which is rather the point, isn't it? After a quarter of a century of being part of a community that fought tirelessly to get a serious and widespread consideration of tech policy underway, we're closer than ever, thanks, in part, to "enshittification." If someone else independently used that word before me, if some people use the word loosely, if the word makes some people uncomfortable, that's fine, provided that the word is doing what I want it to do, what I've devoted my life to doing.

The point of coining words isn't the pilkunnussija's obsession with precise usage, nor the petty glory of being known as a coiner, nor ensuring that NATO generals' virgin ears are protected from the word "shit" – a word that, incidentally, is also the root of "science":

https://www.arrantpedantry.com/2019/01/24/science-and-shit/

Isn't language fun?

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/14/pearl-clutching/#this-toilet-has-no-central-nervous-system

#pluralistic #language #enshittification #obscenity #linguistics #pearl-clutching #lenny bruce

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cybertron-smash-or-pass · 25 days ago

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You do know that fornication with cybertronians, regardless of faction is impossible as they would crush us due to their sheer sieze and weight, right? It would also be considered immoral and beastiality if we are talking about the predacons for example.

Y'know, I was originally just going to dunk on you for unironically using the word Fornicate in the year of our Lord Primus 2025, but this seems to a genuine, good-faith argument you've constructed here and to leave it at a joke would be flippant on my part, and I hold myself to a higher standard than that. So! Allow me to counter these points one by one.

While in reality, yes, the likelihood of death or injury from letting a 20-foot robot that weighs as much as a truck rail you full force would probably be pretty high, the nice thing about fiction and fantasy is that it doesn't really need to be grounded in reality. And even if you can't entirely suspend your disbelief on that level, there are still workarounds.

For example, not every transformer has all the mass of a semi truck. Their sizes have quite a bit more variation than you might be anticipating. Animated Prowl is only like 10 feet tall, 12 tops, and a smaller motorcycle only weighs around 350-400 pounds, which really isn't all that crazy. You look at G1 Rumble and Frenzy, and they're hardly taller than the humans. And then you look at the Beast Wars cast and some of the Maximal are straight up shorter than I am. Rattrap is like 4 foot nothin'.

Now, I know what you're thinking. We certainly do not limit ourselves to lusting over the smaller bots here on cybertron-smash-or-pass dot tumblr dot edu, so what gives? Well, my dear, we've found a reasonable canon excuse to bring the very big very heavy robots down to a more manageable and less hazardous size through the magic of ✨mass displacement✨. Basically, if Soundwave can scale down into an itty bitty cassette player that can easily be picked up like it weighs nothing, there's really no reason a 30-foot robot as heavy as a jet couldn't scale down into a smaller, human-ish-sized robot. They have the technology.

Now say someone doesn't really want to make their fictional robot boyfriend smaller. Maybe the insane overall size is part of the appeal, but they still can't get over the thought of whatever they're packing being way too big to avoid injury. While Cybertronians are typically humanoid, their junk doesn't really have to be in perfect proportion with a human's. No rule that says you can't scale it down enough to fit! But then, maybe they can work with the equipment being comically big, but they can't get over the idea of being crushed. Easy solution, human can't get crushed if they're on top!

Maybe they can't picture the spike fitting at all, and scaling it down just looks a little too silly, but they're still attracted to a big ol' robot. At that point, the best workaround I can give is just sticking with picturing non-penetrative sex. Not like there's only one way to do it, and nobody can stop you from imagining Optimus prime having at it between your thighs, or scissoring with Megatron <3

Now as for whether some of it is immoral, I don't really think banging a Predacon would be wrong? Whether we're talking about the beast wars preds or the tfp preds, they're all treated as adults with human-level intelligence, so they'd be able to give consent, unlike earth animals. Sex with Optimus Primal is really a lot closer to bangin' a guy in a gorilla suit at a costume party than hopping into an actual gorilla enclosure and bending over. While an argument could be made about the tfp predacons being technically very young, and it'd be perfectly valid to be uncomfortable sexualizing them with that in mind, not everyone is going to interpret them as being immature since it seems they start off in that continuity generally having their shit together and knowing enough as to not be easily taken advantage of.

So with all that said, I hope you at least have a clearer picture of how the mind of a robotfucker operates!!

#not polls #valveplug #professor robot sex here to explain the intricacies of being a freak 💖

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lets-try-some-writing · 2 months ago

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A fun concept,what if certain autobots/decepticons could open their faces like the animatronics in FNAF,I can see smokescreen pulling a foxy on The decepticons

Oooh I am here for this.

Transformation seams are present in every Cybertronian. Most of the time, their numbers and locations are limited, both depending on frame type and alt-mode. But occasionally, there are those who break the mold and have an excess. It's not necessarily a bad thing, often being compared to human hyperflexability when explained to the kids. But the excess seams do tend to have a few unintended side effects, such as the ability to move plating that would otherwise be stuck around the frame like a sticker to be peeled off and reapplied.

There are generally three different cases of excess seams coming into play outside of flexibility, usually in cosmetic fashions. First would be the ability to remove plating and get new armor entirely without pain. Around 5% of Cybertronians end up with this condition in some way or form and it is generally considered helpful since it allows for deeper cleaning of the protoform and temporary cosmetic changes without need for pain. The second case would be feral augmentation syndrome. Bots such as Orion Pax, those who grew up around animals or connected deeply with them and possessed the CNA for excess seams, have this condition. All it does it make their limbs more animalistic. Their jaws can open wider due to their facial protoform being highly segmented to allow for further stretch. Additionally, they are able to run on all fours perfectly comfortably due to being able to shift their plating around.

The last case, however, is the most terrifying. It is generally called proto-masking syndrome, and is only found in a starting 1% of those who come out with excess seams. Severity varies, the most minor cases leaving bots with the ability to contort their faces and mess with the metal. Severe cases allow bots to remove or transform their faces away without pain or issue. This is the one most find frightening.

Smokescreen happens to fall within this severe category of those afflicted with proto-masking syndrome. He doesn't know that he is weird and assumes almost everyone can do what he does, but simply fails to act out in large part due to politeness. As such, he doesn't transform his face away often, if at all. But when agitated, or trying to prove a point, he does instinctually transform his facial plating, and the very first time he did it for a Decepticon, horror stories formed instantly.

The bots have said exactly nothing about it to Smokescreen since it's not an issue and generally, it isn't nearly as unsettling as some of the things they've seen. But the Vehicons? They regard Smokescreen as the spark eater. The Autobots pet hunter. They try to keep clear of him as much as possible, especially when he transforms his face away. When that happens, they all assume he's going to eat them and bolt for safety.

Smokescreen is of the belief that he's just that good of a warrior. No one has seen fit to correct him yet. The kids haven't witnessed it yet and so have made no commentary. Bulkhead dreads the day they eventually see Smokey without his face. That will be a LONG conversation.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #smokescreen #bulkhead #orion pax #cybertronian biology #cybertronian culture #tfp kids #bogus biology go!

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thankskenpenders · 1 year ago

Text

Sonic Prime Season 3: Final episodes, final thoughts

Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of Sonic Prime are out on Netflix, concluding the story of Sonic's adventures in the Shatterverse. I've previously shared my thoughts on the first and second seasons, which I was pretty mixed on, but there were still glimmers of hope. The fluid animation, Shadow being fun in all his appearances, Nine being fairly interesting as a jaded alternate version of Tails, etc. There was enough to make me believe that after some highs and lows there was still the possibility that this show could end on a high note - or at least a decent note.

This did not happen.

Sonic Prime's final season sucks. The ending sucks, and the road to get there sucks. It's left me wondering what the point of all this even was. There are still moments I like that I'll try to highlight, and the animators and voice cast are still clearly giving it their all, but these efforts sadly don't outweigh the overwhelming mediocrity of the story. I would barely even recommend other Sonic fans who are on the fence go out of their way to finish it. I won't begrudge people who got more out of this show than I did, but I think overall I just really, really dislike Sonic Prime.

...The problem, of course, is that all other discussion of the show has been overshadowed by needlessly hostile arguments over its place in Sonic's canon. So we've gotta talk about that, too.

(This post will contain full spoilers for Sonic Prime.)

The show's out of ideas but they've gotta stretch that shit out to hit the 23 episode mark somehow

Season 2 ended with the big twist that Nine decided to betray Sonic and Shadow, taking the Paradox Prism for himself so that he could go turn the empty world of the Grim into his own little paradise, since he doesn't believe he'll fit anywhere else. Nine has made himself the true big bad of the show.

The main impact this has is that now, instead of fighting endless identical Eggforcer bots and members of the Chaos Council over and over, the good guys and the Chaos Council have to fight endless Chaos Sonic-style robots sent by Nine while he goes "grrrrr I need Sonic's energy to stabilize the Paradox Prism." This continues for six whole episodes until the series finale, when the show decides it's time for Sonic and Nine to quickly make amends, fix everything, and send Sonic and Shadow home.

That's pretty much the whole season.

I cannot emphasize enough just how much of this final season is just fight after fight after fight against Nine's bots, and how fucking boring that gets. The season feels like one long, drawn out final battle that did not need to be nearly this long, but Nine had his big heel turn 2/3 of the way through the show and we've gotta fill up the rest of the time somehow. The novelty of the bots being based off of Sonic's friends (including the Chocobo-sized Birdie from the jungle world) really wears off quickly when they're just used as generic, silent mooks that the good guys have to fight by the dozen like it's the climax of an MCU movie. The first episode of the season with Sonic and Shadow fighting the new bots is pretty good, especially because Sonic and Shadow's dynamic is one of the few redeeming aspects of this show's writing, but after that it just gets boring. Three full episodes in a row are spent showing all the characters fighting robots in an empty wasteland while Nine scowls next to a big beam of energy. I found myself missing the in-your-face attitude of Chaos Sonic so much. He truly was one of the best parts of this show.

While the cast is busy fighting all these robots for what feels like an eternity, various things of varying levels of interest happen. There's a halfhearted attempt to have some kind of rivalry between Shadow and the main Grim Sonic throughout the final battle, but it completely falls flat because Grim Sonic has no personality whatsoever. It's like Shadow beefing with an above-average Egg Pawn. (Actually, no, that would be funny.) There's also a death fakeout with the two other versions of Tails, where they make a makeshift bomb and throw it a little too close to themselves on the battlefield and seem to get vaporized. If they had actually died there they would have had the funniest, most pointless deaths in the entire franchise.

I also realized at one point that they were trying to do the Avengers girl power fight thing with the three versions of Amy fighting a bunch of Rouge bots. This was very funny to me. Actually, so much of this is just following the tired MCU formula to the letter. Fighting over a macguffin, two armies just kind of running at each other and clashing in a big empty field, constant one-liner quips instead of actual jokes, the need to take out key targets to make the whole enemy army disappear, a villain who has a point but has to randomly hurt people so that there's an excuse for the heroes to fight him. When combined with how shit the multiverse stuff is, this whole show really is just Man of Action tackling some of the most played out storytelling tropes in modern pop culture in the most bland way possible. What a bunch of hacks.

By far, the one truly fun thing that happens in this protracted final battle is when a giant robot based on Big appears. It doesn't have arms or legs, but it can swing itself around to use its tail like a giant mace, and it can also shoot Froggy-shaped missiles out of its mouth. I wish the rest of the show was even half as fun as this. Again, Sonic Prime has just enough good moments to make you mad that the rest of the show isn't better.

The thing is, all this repetitive (but well-animated) action and the thin excuse plot would be totally serviceable if I just gave a shit about the characters involved. But I don't. I don't care what happens to the pirate version of Amy who goes "arrr." I don't care about what happens to Hipster Eggman. And unfortunately, by the end, I didn't really care about Nine, either.

Nine as a villain

It's hard to criticize the story here without it coming off as a broad condemnation of the tropes at play. The thing is, I like many stories that try to do similar things. I love clashes between heroes and villains that are really just fantastical exaggerations of more personal conflicts. I love stories where a tragic, sympathetic villain lashes out at the world as an expression of the pain they feel, and a compassionate hero just has to get through to them. I eat that shit right up. Undertale is my favorite game ever made. Shit, I love other Sonic stories that do these exact things. And Sonic having to fight an alternate timeline version of Tails also has so much potential for drama!

So I can very easily imagine a version of the show where all this works for me. That just isn't the version we got.

Like I said last time, Nine's motivation is just too sympathetic and understandable for his sudden turn to supervillainy to make any sense. He just wanted to start over somewhere where he can be happy after a childhood filled with bullying and loneliness. Nine betraying Sonic and stealing the Paradox Prism to go make his own world? That tracks! Especially since we don't even know if Nine will still exist if Sonic goes through with his plan to restore his original world! But trying to kill everyone in New Yolk City by tilting the world 90 degrees, intentionally targeting the civilian population because it'll get to Sonic? Nope! Sorry, that's a bridge too far. I don't buy it. He's jaded and antisocial, but he doesn't strike me as cruel. Writing in an excuse about him needing Sonic's energy to fix the Prism does not make this make more sense.

This was really just one of those conflicts where it felt like everyone should stop and talk it out. Instead we got six episodes of fighting before one of Sonic's many, MANY attempts at reasoning with Nine throughout the season finally works. This isn't me pulling some Cinema Sins bullshit where I complain about characters in a work of fiction not always behaving rationally - the real problem is that it's just so damn repetitive waiting for this conflict to resolve. This could have been wrapped up in two or three episodes and instead it takes seven.

A brief aside about that weird Dorkly-ass Sonic Advance 3 flashback scene hacked together with mismatched sprites where Gemerl happens to be present, presumably just because he's a part of the sprite for the Sunset Hill boss, and seeing him briefly makes me remember the extended cast from the games and how much I wish they had just made a cartoon about them instead of a bunch of stock characters wearing the skin of Sonic's friends, but then Gemerl just explodes with the boss machine at the end while Eggman is shown to get away so I guess Gemerl just dies in this flashback

Yeah that sure happened huh

The ending

Despite having a final battle that felt like an eternity, Sonic Prime is a show that just kind of... ends. And that ending is weird and haphazard.

The understanding I had was that Sonic's normal world had "shattered" when the Paradox Prism was destroyed, and from those remnants these new worlds were created. This is why they use terms like "Shatterverse" and "Shatterspaces" and why there's shattered glass/crystal/whatever imagery everywhere. This is a broken, fragmented version of the real universe. Right? Right?? Isn't that the entire premise of the show? And therefore, if the universe has been shattered, then fixing it means putting all the shattered pieces back together. Which I would assume means that the Shatterspaces cease to exist.

So, in the ending... Sonic's world seems to just exist as another Shatterspace. Restoring the Paradox Prism doesn't seem to combine the worlds or anything, it just fixes the broken portal to Sonic's world that exists alongside all the others. So... what exactly was the point of all the shattered glass symbolism?

Things only get more confusing as the ending progresses. Shadow brings Sonic through the portal before the draining of Sonic's whatever energy makes him disappear, and they're transported back in time to right before Sonic broke the Paradox Prism. Only Sonic seems to remember what happened (Shadow might remember, but he doesn't say anything), and with the Paradox Prism never shattered, it's unclear if the Shatterspaces exist now.

I'm not particularly hung up on the time loop ending. It's very much in line with all sorts of classic morality tales like A Christmas Carol or It's a Wonderful Life, where the flawed protagonist goes through some kind of magical experience and then returns home with a new appreciation for the people in their life. It's always been pretty obvious that was the type of story they were telling. I'm more bothered by the fact that there's no time whatsoever spent on whether or not the other worlds and the characters in them continue to exist. Sonic seems to act like the worlds will go on without him before he leaves, but it's not like we get an ending scene that shows how the other worlds are doing, so they really truly might as well not exist anymore. Sonic just wraps up the adventure from the first episode when he gets home, and before he can explain what happened from his perspective he's interrupted by a mysterious energy wave from off-screen and it's off to the next adventure.

(Despite this odd cliffhanger ending, the show is extremely over and not coming back. I have to imagine this is just a "the adventures never end" type ending and not a hint that more shit is going on with the Paradox Prism.)

This ending is also a terrible resolution to Nine's whole arc, despite him being the driving force of so much of the show. The way I see it, there are are three possible fates for him:

The Shatterspaces continue existing, and things go as Sonic expects them to go. Nine is allowed to make the Grim into his own little utopia, and everyone else leaves him alone instead of punishing him for all the trouble he caused. Instead of finding love and acceptance so he can heal from a lifetime of bullying and loneliness, Nine is allowed to run away, isolating himself from every other living being in the multiverse, and live alone as the god of an empty world with only his own creations as company. Sonic was his only friend, and he's gone forever now.

The Shatterspaces continue existing, but because of the time travel ending, most of the events of the show never happened. Sonic never helped defeat the Chaos Council, so they still control New Yolk City. Nine is back to living in this dystopian city with no friends. He never met Sonic.

The Shatterspaces have been erased. After fighting so hard for his right to exist as his own person and not just a "wrong" version of Tails, when the timeline is altered, he just... stops existing. Along with almost every other character in the show.

Do I even need to explain why these are all unsatisfying?

Misc. thoughts

I skimmed over this, but a lot of the final season is just spent seeing Sonic's friends bicker with the Chaos Council and then Sonic has to beg them to get along to save the universe. It gets old.

We also never really got an explanation for why the Chaos Council exists. They can't have come from other Shatterspaces because there ARE no other Shatterspaces. If the original Eggman was just split into five guys or time travel was involved or whatever, it never comes up. I can live with this, but it seems like an odd omission for a children's show that's constantly bogged down in technobabble explaining the mechanics of its extremely small and finite multiverse.

I have no idea where Shadow was for the first part of the final battle. I figured Nine must have captured him off-screen after Sonic first left the Grim, but Shadow was just... hanging around until his cue in the script, I guess?

Sonic saying "help a brother up" to Shadow was funny

Hipster Eggman pointing to one of the few nameless extras who tagged along for the final battle and going "Who are you? Seriously, does anyone know who this is?" was the only funny thing he did in the entire show

Mangy Tails randomly pressing buttons on the Chaos Council's generator like a curious animal and managing to improve its output was cute

Rusty Rose randomly realizes that the Birdie in her chest actually isn't being used as a power source, and that the Chaos Council was just... using that to manipulate her, somehow? I don't really know how that works but whatever

The Sonic Advance 3 flashback uses the actual boss music from the game, but they can't use the real Sunset Hill theme because they didn't wanna pay Masato Nakamura for using the Green Hill motif, I guess

To my fellow fans of bad games: did you know that Man of Action wrote the story for the bizarre Square Enix game The Quiet Man? The one where the lengthy FMV cutscenes play out with muffled audio and no subtitles because the protagonist is deaf, so you can't tell what's going on? And you had to do a New Game+ playthrough to actually hear the audio and understand what's going on? The worst-reviewed game of 2018? That one? I only learned that recently and it blew me away

So yeah, that's the end of the show. I didn't like it, and I don't think I liked the show much as a whole. I am far from alone in this sentiment, but the reasons why people dislike the show... those vary a bit.

The canon conundrum

More than anything else, it seems like most other discourse surrounding this show has been consumed by one talking point:

How can this be canon? Why is it canon?

I want to state very clearly up front that I, too, am a person who's noticed and complained about the inconsistencies with the games in Sonic Prime. Some of the characters are a bit off - or, you know, completely unrecognizable when discussing the writing of some of the AU counterparts. I think it's lame to say Sonic and friends all live in Green Hill and act like that's the entirety of their world. That sort of thing. But if Sega says it's canon to everything else? Sure. Fine. There's weirder shit in the canon.

Really, most of this can be explained away pretty easily. The show was written at a time when Sega was still figuring shit out and there were looser restrictions. Why does Sonic act a little more immature? Probably just because Prime is aiming for a slightly younger audience than the games or the IDW comics. (And also it's, y'know, written by Man of Action, who people have accused of only knowing how to write one kind of protagonist for years.) Why do Sonic and friends live in Green Hill? Because that's the most recognizable location from the games, and the game world doesn't get enough screentime to justify modeling multiple different environments, so they just focus on Green Hill. Why is this considered canon to the games? Because this is the first Sonic cartoon that outright references events from the games as things that have happened to Sonic in the past.

But announcing early on that Prime would be canon certainly let fans' imaginations wander. It was one of the few things we knew about the show before it premiered. People wondered if characters from the games and comics who had never made any appearances in Sonic cartoons might get their time in the spotlight. We wondered if it would tie into the lore or any existing storylines in interesting ways, like the IDW comics do. But above all else, we hoped that its canon status would mean that Sonic Prime would finally be the Sonic cartoon that was faithful to the source material with no catches. We've literally never seen the actual world of the games brought to life in a TV show. Sonic X came the closest, but that still took its liberties. And so hype built for this Canon Sonic Cartoon.

And then it actually came out, and after a brief intro in Green Hill based loosely on the games, it spent most of its running time focusing on things like "what if there was a version of Eggman who was a bratty teen who just wanted to play video games?" The disappointment among fans is understandable. I am disappointed. Look at how much I've bitched about this aggressively mid cartoon.

Some fans, however, came up with an elaborate theory about the series. You see, when asked about the show's place in the game timeline during a live Q&A, Ian Flynn (who only served as a consultant on Sonic Prime and did not write any of it) said this:

"I cannot answer because I know the answer, and you haven't finished watching the show yet."

A couple days later, when answering another question about Prime's place in the timeline and also about a writing discrepancy, he said this:

"As to where it fits on the timeline, I can't speak to it because that would spoil the show to a degree. So you're just gonna have to wait 'til it's done. Towards the other point, I don't know how much I can say, so it's probably better that I not comment. That's a really dissatisfying answer, I know, I'm sorry, but my hands are kinda tied on that one."

I feel the need to quote Ian directly here, because these very basic statements about how he can't talk about behind the scenes shit or anything from unreleased episodes was GREATLY misinterpreted by the fandom. People clung onto Ian's claim that we had to keep watching like a life preserver. Some took it as Ian saying that the ending would explain everything. Finally, we'd have a definitive answer for every little discrepancy and the apparent differences in worldbuilding. An explanation for why Sega and the producers repeatedly insist this show HAS to be canon.

And to these fans, the only explanation that made any sense... would be if the ending of Sonic Prime pulled a Flashpoint.

As this theory explained, the Sonic we were following in Sonic Prime wasn't the Sonic we know from the games and the IDW comics, and likewise the world he comes from isn't really the game world. This is a different Sonic who fights a different Eggman in a world that's literally just Green Hill. It was a hint that something was off all along! But in the end of the series, this Sonic would sacrifice himself to merge all of the Shatter Spaces together and form a brand new world, and that would be the more visually diverse world of the games and comics. According to this theory, Sonic Prime was canon because it was a new origin story for the entire franchise.

I want you to really stop and think about how asinine of an origin story this would be. Really drink this in. The idea that there was another, slightly different version of Sonic who went on a kinda shitty multiverse adventure and then sacrificed himself to create the real Sonic that we've known since 1991. People convinced themselves this made more sense than the simple explanation that a different team of writers got some stuff wrong and Sega didn't make them change it. Interviews where producers talked about drawing on Sonic's "mythology" (ie: they reference the games in the show) were taken very literally - they must be saying that Prime's story is mythological in nature, and that this show would be integral to the games' mythology. Why bother making a show that's canon if it's not going to be crucial to that canon, after all?

The final episodes dropped, and none of this happened. Because of course it didn't. It was all Sherlock fandom-level copium. But fans were left confused by the lack of a grand reveal of where Sonic Prime fits in the timeline, believing they had been promised this, and they turned to Ian for an explanation. Ian's answer:

It doesn't matter, b/c Prime wipes itself out. It's sometime after Advance 3*, but otherwise, it's moot. I didn't want to sour anyone's expectations or investment by spoiling how Prime resolves, that's all. If you enjoyed it, awesome. Savor it. If you didn't, then you can safely ignore it. Simple as that.

* About a trillion people have um, actually'd Ian to point out Orbot and Cubot briefly appear in the show, but if we're really being pedantic here we don't actually know how long before Colors Eggman built Orbot and Cubot, so it wouldn't be fully accurate to say a story featuring Orbot and Cubot couldn't be set before Colors. Either way, a story set anywhere around Colors, or at any point later than that, could still be described as "sometime after Advance 3." Advance 3 is just the most recent game that has specific in-game events referenced in the show. Yes I can feel myself morphing into the nerd emoji before your very eyes

Anyway, this is the latest reason Ian is getting death threats on Twitter. This time it's over a show he barely even had any input on!

I'll cut to the chase. It is truly wild to me that people are getting this heated over canonical inconsistencies in a series as historically inconsistent as Sonic, to the point that they think threatening Ian is justified. The aesthetics of the entire world Sonic inhabits change every other game. Sonic Chronicles may no longer be canon due to the Penders lawsuits, but it was canon at one point, and it took huge liberties with Sonic's world, moving Green Hill off of South Island and reinterpreting Station Square as a tiny outpost in a snowy alpine forest region. Characters' personalities change from writer to writer and based on what Sega wants at the time, with some being WILDLY different across different games. One game Sonic will be stoic and cool, the next he thinks "Baldy McNosehair" is the funniest thing ever. Sega's STILL trying to figure out what Amy's personality is supposed to be. We still don't have the explanation for how the two seemingly contradictory backstories for Blaze can fit together. There have been multiple huge, sweeping retcons, and retcons to those retcons. Sonic Forces claims that Classic Sonic is from an entirely different universe than Modern Sonic, and the plot only makes any sense if that's true - otherwise, Modern Sonic would have already known Eggman was going to beat him and take over the world when he did, because his younger self had already lived through that war. All of that makes no sense in the newly reunified timeline, but Forces is very much still canon.

For fuck's sake, we're talking about the series where Eggman blew up half the moon and then it looked completely normal in every other game after, explained away as "the moon just rotated so we can't see the destroyed side from Earth." This has never, ever, ever been a franchise where everything lines up perfectly with no issues. It's not that serious.

The real core problem with Prime isn't that things don't line up 100% with our current understanding of canon, or that Sonic's characterization means this can't be the real Sonic, or anything like that. The problem, as I've been saying this whole time, is that the story is bad. None of these discrepancies would truly matter if the story was better. They'd just be nitpicks. The fact that Sonic and friends live in Green Hill would be the farthest thing from my mind if the drama was more engaging, if the villains were better, if the jokes were actually funny, if more of the alternate universe counterparts of Sonic's friends had more than one generic character trait each, if the multiverse was more creative and varied, if the final seven episodes of this show didn't devolve into the third act of an MCU movie and then just arbitrarily end, if Nine's character arc actually had a satisfying conclusion instead of ending with either isolation or nonexistence. Maybe we'd be seeing people talk about more than just whether or not it should be considered canon if the writing was any good.

"Canon" is not real, and it sure as hell isn't worth sending people death threats over. It's a storytelling tool. Real human beings decide what does and doesn't go into that canon, or how much they do or don't want to draw on past stories, when creating a new story. Serving that canon is secondary to creating a story where the emotional truth resonates with the audience. And Sonic Prime failed to do that. That is its true failing.

And finally, to close out...

Since people will ask, here are my current ranking of the Sonic TV shows, now that Prime is finished.

Sonic Boom

Sonic SatAM

Sonic X

The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog

Sonic Prime

Sonic Underground

Yes, I'd say Boom is my favorite. It's far from my ideal Sonic cartoon, but it gets a lot of points for being as funny as it is. But the top four are all shows I'd say I like, more or less. They all have their pros and cons.

So now, uh... I guess let's hope the live action Knuckles show coming to Paramount+ is better than the underwhelming synopsis of "Knuckles helps deputy sheriff Wade train in the ways of the echidna warrior" would imply? Maybe we'll get lucky?

#tkp post #other media

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in1-nutshell · 3 months ago

Note

IN1-NUTSHELL DROP TFONE OPHELIA AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!

Introducing TFONE Ophelia!

Hope you enjoy!

TF1 Version of Ophelia

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Mention of injury, Angst, Cybertronian reader

TF1

It was rare for a sparkling to end up down in the mines.

Most who did ended up running away or getting crushed.

The ‘luckier’ ones were found by supervisors and taken away.

None of the miners ever saw them again.

But this one was special.

Not just because they were probably one of the smallest sparklings they had ever seen.

But because they had lifted up a full cart of energon over their helm and threw it.

The miners were vaguely aware that 1 percenters existed, but never actually seen one.

There was no telling what the supervisors would do.

For once, the miners agreed to keep the 1 percenter with them.

Maybe they would help out around when they got older and taller.

Strength was needed in the mines.

After a bit of babysitting, the sparkling finally found the bots she liked the most.

Two miners, D-16 and Orion Pax.

Well, more D-16, but Orion was always with him, so they were a package deal.

D does not know why the sparkling chose him, but he isn’t complaining.

She could fit in his servo easy, adorable optics and the cutest smile he had ever seen.

Orion was also her favorite.

Orion was the bot who actively played with her.

It was a little rough for D’s liking.

D-16 walking into the hall. D-16: “Orion I need—PAX WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” The sparkling was on top of one of the higher bunks with Orion at the bottom with his servos ready to catch the sparkling if she fell. Orion: “Relax D, she’s just a bit curious.” D-16: “That does not explain why she is so high! Move I’m getting her!” Orion grabs D’s shoulder. Orion: “Ophelia’s fine D, but you scaring her is going to make her fall.” D-16: “Ophelia?” Orion: “Yeah, I tried out some names while you were out. She seems to like that name. Isn’t that right Ophelia!” Ophelia’s helm turned to the two bots and immediately starts chirping at them both happily. D-16: “I was thinking on Maxima or Ironhold… but Ophelia does sound better.” Orion puffs his chassis a bit with pride as he goes to pick up the sparkling and giving her to D. D-16 smiles at her. D-16: “You miss me, Ophelia?” Ophelia: “D!” Both mech’s jump at the sound. Orion: “Did she just…” Ophelia: “D! D! D!” D-16 smiles even more, cuddling the sparkling closer to his chassis.

As the years passed by, Ophelia grew a bit before stopping shortly around their knee joints.

Safe to say it was official, Ophelia was a minibot.

As she grew older, she ended up persuading D, and Orion to let her help out with the mines.

She wanted to help.

Elita soon caught wind of this and immediately took the mini under her wing and squad.

Minibot or not, Ophelia was a 1 percenter and could help in big ways.

Ophelia ended up working with cargo placements and on the occasion helped with the entrance of tunnels collapsing.

Give the minibot a jetpack and a sturdy rock, she could stabilize the tunnel’s entrance for almost a whole minute before crashing down.

D hated whenever she had those jobs.

Even more when supervisors ordered it and not Elita.

Elita at least understood that Ophelia had limitations, the guards couldn’t care less.

Ophelia and D end up teaming up on Orion many times whenever he tries to bring up some sort of crazy idea.

In response, Orion brings the minibot with him.

D has near spark attacks when this happens.

D-16 is standing in front of Orion and Ophelia; his arms crossed and had a disappointed look on his face. D-16: “I told you both going after those slugs was more trouble than what it’s worth.” Ophelia: “But—” D-16 look makes her stop. The mech’s attention turns to Orion. D-16: “She could have gotten hurt Pax. She’s still a youngling and doesn’t know any better.” Orion: “I was watching her D. Do you think I’d let something bad happen to her?” D-16: “Its not that I don’t trust you—” Orion: “Then what is it?” D-16: “I’m just worried my daughter is going to pick up your bad influence of jumping off building and messing with protocol!” The words sink in for all three bots. Ophelia: “…Do… do you really see me like that D?” D-16 considers lying for a second but decides against it. D-16: “Yes… I understand if—OOF!” Ophelia, though barely reaching the bots knee joints, hugged his legs tightly. D-16 blinks before gently rubbing her helm with his servo. Orion: “Primus I wish I could take a picture. This is adorable.” D-16: “And you ruined the moment.”

From then on, D-16 makes it a rule that if Ophelia were to go with Orion, to let him know.

He knows roughly about half of the outings.

Orion just wants some quality time with his niece, trying to get her out of her shell.

Orion while he goes through the archives, always brings back data slugs or chips on Cybertron’s history for Ophelia.

Even picks up little Megatronus Prime or Micronus Prime decals.

The day of the race arrives.

Ophelia was told to go find some seats by D before the pair left.

She never makes it to the stands because she gets called to the cargo hold to help load some cargo.

Ophelia stops her work seeing the screen with her father and uncle in the race.

Her optics do not leave the screen.

Too bad she couldn’t see the rest of it before someone pushed her into a nearby trash shoot.

Screaming all the way down while trying to grab onto something.

She was stuck in the scrap until something pulled her out.

It was a yellow bot, not too older than her.

He was just as surprised as her seeing a bot down here.

Ophelia explained that she needed to get back to her family.

The bot, B-127, suggested waiting for a supervisor, but they rarely came down to sublevel 50.

Ophelia, feeling literally down in the dumps, figured talking to him wouldn’t be so bad.

After a couple of hours there is more crashing.

B-127 keeps Ophelia behind him as he goes to look.

It was Orion and D-16.

Ophelia spots them and runs over. Ophelia: “Dad! Orion!” Ophelia jumps straight into D’s arms hugging him. D-16: “Ophelia? What are you doing here?” Orion: “How did you get down here?” B-127: “She said some bot upstairs pushed her in. Hi! I’m Ophelia’s friend! I’m B-127!”

Alpha Trion’s message is found and the quest to the surface has been made.

Ophelia, as much as she was scared of the surface, put on a brave face and claimed she wanted to go.

D-16, surprisingly agrees, but it wasn’t like he was going to leave her by herself.

Ophelia clings between D and Orion’s back.

She is clinging for dear life during the entirety of the train scene.

Only let’s go and stands up like everyone else once they all reach the surface.

Then the mountain starts coming to the train.

B picks up Ophelia like a football and runs.

Everyone gets flung from the train.

B-127, D-16, Elita and Orion groan as they stand up and get ready to follow the map. D-16 suddenly looks around. D-16: “Wait! Where’s Ophelia!?” Ophelia: “Up here!” The group looks up to one of the taller rock formations. Ophelia is clinging on the edge to dear life. D-16: “Ophelia!” B-127: “How did you get up there?” Ophelia: “I grew a T-cog and turns out I’m a Seeker.” B-127: “Really?” Ophelia: “OBVIOUSLY NOT! SOMEONE GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!”

It takes a good couple of minutes to get her down.

Reveal of the Quintessons.

Grips D’s servo a bit too hard as Orion and B nearly get caught by the scanner.

Finding the Prime’s.

Ophelia consoles D as they both kneel in front of the fallen helm of Megatronus Prime.

Meeting Alpha Trion.

Witnessing what happened to the Primes and what Sentinel had been doing.

Ophelia stays by Alpha Trion’s side when D talks about off-lining Sentinel.

It got her a bit nervous.

Floored when she hears about Sentinel stealing their cogs and in return, they all get cogs.

Going downhill, everyone is trying out their transformations. D-16: “How do we use these things!” Ophelia tries using her cog. She feels something happening. Ophelia: “I think I got—” CLANK! Ophelia’s helm got tucked in. Ophelia: “I CAN’T SEE!” Orion in the same position: “ME NEITHER!”

Ophelia is still small (she got Micronus’s cog) but could feel the cog in her chassis.

Transforms into a small rover.

Feels something wrong with her father the way he talked slowly to Orion.

Reassures Orion that she would fix him.

The group gets kidnapped by the High Guard.

Fangirls with B seeing and naming each guard member she can see.

Screams when D starts fighting Starscream.

She ended up getting pushed and shoved everywhere until a pair of servos picked her up.

It was Soundwave.

He had perched her up on his shoulder so she could have a better view.

She didn’t know whether to be grateful or not seeing the canon now shoved at Starscream’s face.

She shared the same scared look that Orion had.

Arachnid and her army arrived.

Ophelia fair well, catching many bots off guard with her strength.

Even managing to save some of the High Guard’s members in the process.

But ultimately gets tased and captured with D and B.

Ophelia is placed with much heavier sets of cuffs than the energy binds the others had.

Internally screaming for D to get back down once he stands up.

Sentinel is about to slap him, until his optics land on her.

The Prime roughly grabs her by the back of the neck cables and drags her to the front of the room.

Ophelia tries to raise her helm, but a harsh punch sends it back down.

D yells and tries to get her.

He is restrained.

Ophelia’s audials are a bit muffled, but the distinct sound of a sword being retracted is clear.

The Prime enjoys brandishing his sword and letting it drag slowly to the shaking minibot.

D-16: “Leave her out of this Sentinel! She has nothing to do with this!” Sentinel raises his sword. Sentinel: “Oh but my Dear D-16. In my perfect world, there is no need for 1 percenters.” The false Prime then goes to strike. D-16: “NO!” The sword had stopped centimeters away from her face. The sword instead cuts her bindings. Ophelia tries to stand on her bad pede. D-16: “Wh-what?” Sentinel: “I’m letting her go.” The crowd looked at him in surprise. Ophelia finally manages to stand up straight. Sentinel: “Kidding!” With that Sentinel Prime kicked the minibot with full force out the balcony. It happened so fast no one heard the minibot scream. D-16: “OPHELIA!”

Ophelia falls out of the balcony and straight to the city below.

D yells in anguish as he sees Ophelia disappear from view and more when Sentinel brandishes him.

Thankfully, Ophelia had managed to stick a servo on the side of a nearby building, stopping her rough decent.

Her servos and pedes were dented but at least she was alive.

She tried to climb back up but nearly fell again as the building shook.

Did a train crash into it?

She tries climbing again but spots two other figures fall out.

It was D and Sentinel.

With enough bravery that would make Orion proud, she jumped on the false Prime’s back as the three of them began to tumble down.

Ophelia made sure to punch holes straight into his dense armor.

Suddenly she was flung backwards and into the sea of spectators.

She looked up and briefly made eye contact with D, who looked so relief before a murderous look overcame him.

He started for the Prime.

What could she do?

Ophelia tried to make her way to the stage when Orion had arrived to intervene.

She stared in horror as D-16 shot to Sentinel before Orion took the hit.

Ophelia couldn’t believe what was happening.

But thankfully D was there to catch him.

Everything was going to be okay.

…

Ophelia didn’t remember screaming, nor did she remember hitting several bots feet away as they tried to get her from going to close to the edge.

She followed Elita and B to try and stop him from doing any more harm after ripping Sentinel in half.

After naming himself Megatron.

The blast from Optimus’s ascension made her go back into the crowd with Elita and B.

Ophelia tried to run back to Megatron and Optimus, but the crowds were panicked and wild.

She was even lucky enough to remain in one piece.

The minibot witnessed Optimus banishing Megatron from Iacon.

She could see the slight tears coming from Megatron’s face.

To witness him call the High Guard to follow him.

No mentions of her name.

Not even an attempt to ask where she was.

A part of Ophelia wanted to go with him.

Of course she did, he was still her Dad.

She didn’t want to leave him alone.

… But somewhere deep in her spark told her to stop.

Not to take another step.

…Ophelia could only hope that listening to the feeling was the right thing…

Later that evening Ophelia was walking past her old recharging station. She carefully traced the Megatronus decal on D-16’s pod. Optimus: “Ophelia?” Ophelia jumped a bit, not used to Orion—no, Optimus’s voice. Ophelia: “Optimus.” The Prime stood next to her, both looking sadly at the decals. Ophelia couldn’t take it anymore and crumbled on the ground letting out a sob. Optimus knelt and scooped her into his arms. Ophelia knew she probably dented the new Prime’s frame a bit with her hug, but right now she didn’t care. Ophelia: “I want him back! I want him back! Orion please!” The minibot could feel the Prime’s tears on her helm and a gently shake. Maybe someday he would come back… Meanwhile Megatron had finished his little shrine in his habsuite. A shrine for Ophelia. His sparkling that was murdered by the Prime. Megatron whispers: “Sleep well Ophelia. We will meet again; I swear to you.”

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #transformers one x platonic reader #transformers one x reader #transformers one #ophelia #tf1 ophelia

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inklessletter · 2 years ago

Note

Congratulations, first of all, for reaching the milestone 💐💐💐 you deserve every single follower, and then some. Your art is always so pretty and I love how you bring us along during your process.

Secondly, would you like to make art based on this fic of mine? I'm thinking right at the beginning, when Eddie falls to his knees on stage and he and Steve have their "moment".

Thank you for hosting this fanart party ❤️

Steve tilts his head, and Eddie prepares for a kiss. He gets no lips, only tongue; Steve licks his mouth, from one corner to the other.

🎸🎸🎸

@2btheanswertothequestion

This one was SO MUCH FUN TO DO. I had trouble finding good references for the ambiance, but I love the result. Please, go read the fic, it's so good.

I know that I don't know many of the users that sent me requests a few weeks ago, but I've got a tiny story to tell about this one (I'm getting to know you little by little and I'm falling for every single one of you, you talented fuckers). They are the reason I am in Tumblr. It happens that I created an account many months ago, and didn't know how to use this, I just clicked "follow" to the tags and the blogs ST/Steddie related that posted fics and arts, and on my way to work, in the bus, I read the first chapter of a fanfic that made lose my stop (literally, I got late to the office that day).

Sad thing is the next time I opened the app, the fic was gone. I just remembered a few things and god knows that the search bar in this site works... well, works. Sometimes. I couldn't find it. I made it my personal goal to actually find this fic again, and this user, whose name I didn't catch because, again, I didn't know how to use Tumblr. This user pulled a full Cinderella on me, reading with intent every fic until the shoe fit. And I found it by mere coincidence, because they posted the third part, and I was like "WAIT IS THIS IT?". And it was it.

In the meanwhile, I actually completed my account, like you know, trying not to make it look like a bot (that I learned that it was a bad thing that could get me blocked), I put a profile picture, I made it decent, I learned how to use Tumblr (a bit). So, you see. This user, my beloved @2btheanswertothequestion is the one to blame that I actually stuck in this place. If you're wondering which one was the fic that got me so hooked up it was November Paramedic. (Here the AO3 link). Go read it, you're gonna love it.

(I'm kinda mad that they didn't asked me to draw the actual picture of the calendar, though. I have some ideas, I might draw it the future, because when I say that I hold this fic very close to my heart, I mean it.)

I really, really hope you like it, I worked hard on it and I did this with every bit of love stored in my heart ❤️❤️❤️

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marchsfreakshow · 5 months ago

Text

Hugh Hefner [Colin Zabel]

Smut

Colin was stressed. More than usual. So, you figured you should suprise him with something that should soothe his nerves, at least for a night.

You're welcome for this. I'm literally amazing. :3 yes this came from a cai bot. No it wasn't Colin. No I'm not telling u who.

Warnings: couple mentions of the infamed bunny tail plug lol, oral (m), praise cause he deserves it.

18+! MINORS DNI!

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Work is stressful. Everyone knows that.

Colin felt it more than ever at the moment.

People never stopped what they were doing, cases piling up, and the general public still outraged at unsolved missing girls and unsolved deaths. It never seemed to stop pressuring everyone in the police station.

You could feel it on Colin's shoulders when he visited you. Just wanted to stay in your arms, in your bed and in silence. It almost broke your heart over and over. He never wanted to talk, never wanted to do anything. Colin ate what you made for him, and immediately let you take him to your bed. Fingers tangling in his hair, softly scratching at his scalp. Heavy sigh after a few breaths, eventually letting himself fall asleep. Everything about it made you feel worse.

You couldn't do anything about the work. Not really. If it was up to you, you would've clicked your fingers and every one was found, and all of Colin's cases would've been solved. But no. Reality didn't work like that. It never would've.

Despite the wish for reality to be a little less awful, you came up with an idea one evening. It was perfectly flawless. The internet truly is an amazing place, isn't it? Bunny suit...latex, black, sleek and one size. Into the cart, it went. It came with ears, white cuffs, and a bowtie. All according to plan. But, out of boredom, you scrolled the site a bit more. Then you saw exactly what you thought would work. A bunny tail. A plug to be exact. In your head you'd figure you'd give Colin a heart attack before getting hard at the sight of you in such an outfit. Welp, into the cart it went and you ordered both items basically immediately after finding the bunny tail.

Thank god for next-day delivery.

You were trying everything on in your room, making sure it all fit. Then you remembered Colin had a key to your place, just in case of emergencies, y'know? You had one to his place too so you didn't feel totally creeped out. You only remembered because footsteps suddenly padded into the living room. "Hey, I'm here for a little bit. That okay?" Colin asked out to the house. You didn't respond at first, completely embarrassed that you didn't have time to even make yourself up.

"Y-yeah that's fine!" You stuttered out. Colin made his way up the stairs nonchalantly, preparing to hug you as soon as he entered the room.

Upon opening the door, however, his eyes immediately wandered your back, focusing on the tail plug currently in you. The squeak of the door made you jump a little, immediately looking over your shoulder. "Holy..."

Sheepishly, you turned around, hands going behind your back. "Suprise?" You chuckled, your face suddenly feeling a lot hotter than it was before. "I um..I wanted to put this on for you...try and.." you trailed off, however, distracted by Colin's surprised, yet aroused gaze. Like his brain shut off as soon as he saw the black latex hugging you.

"Holy shit.." He whispered under his breath, feeling his trousers getting very tight, very quickly. Closing the door behind him, Colin let out a shaky breath, still taking in the sight of you in latex, every single best part of enunciated all for him. Which admittedly was every single part of you on your body. Gauging his reaction as a good one, you took a few steps towards him, suddenly smiling towards him. "You look so beautiful." Hands immediately finding your waist, feeling the latex underneath his fingers. It was basically turning Colin's face into a furnace. Red as a cherry, hot as coals on a fire. Eventually, though, he looked up into your eyes, gazing at your smile.

Taking his hands, you pressed a gentle kiss to Colin's lips. While his brain still apparently had not caught up to him. He couldn't give a coherent reply, and just let you take his hands. The idea of you in a bunny suit was hot enough, but actually wearing it...in front of him...with a tail plug? It was basically over for the detective in front of you. Leading him over to your bed, he sort of sat down awkwardly, looking up at you again. "Don't do anything. Okay? Don't do anything." You commanded softly, getting a silent nod as a response.

You got down on your knees, adjusting the latex suit once you were comfortable between your boyfriend's thighs. "Worked up huh?" You asked, starting to undo Colin's belt. It was obviously rhetorical, you knew how hard he had been working recently and his libido was at an all-time low. Well...until now that is. "Verrryyy worked up..my..let's get you sorted out.." A small chuckle left your lips after you spoke, not bothering to tease with a slow tug on his zipper. You undid the buttons, zipped down the zip, and your fingers immediately went to the waistband of the boxers he was wearing.

Slowly tugging the fabric down, watching his leaky, basically untouched cock free itself from the confines. Throbbing occasionally, pre-cum desperately starting to cover the tip. "Such a pretty boy.." Wrapping your fingers around the base of him, Colin's own hand went to your head, gently petting you. It was a sweet feeling on top of the want to de-stress the detective above you.

After licking your lips, you eventually leaned down a bit more, licking a stripe underneath. Colin's legs immediately got a bit shaky, it had definitely been a while since anything like this had happened. "A-ah..sorry.." he mumbled an apology for his legs immediately starting to get a bit shaky.

"hey...no apologising darling.." You smiled, looking up at him. "it's been a while I know that...and I'll make sure it feels the best for you." Your words let Colin take a deep breath and nod, petting your head a bit more. With another smile, you leant back in, enveloping the tip around your lips. Warm breaths were felt, which only caused a shaky gasp to leave Colin.

That's always good. It only made you smile a bit more, continuing to push more of his dick down your throat. Drool starting to collect as you closed your eyes, eventually letting your lips reach your fingers that were wrapped around the base of him. Shaky, small mutters of pleasure and need left Colin's own lips with every movement. His hand actually ended up grabbing onto the bunny headband you had on, the fluffy ears being gripped onto. That was definitely going to end up on the bed or the floor somewhere in a few minutes.

Letting yourself go faster, the lewd sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat got repetitive. Blinking your eyes open, you glanced up to Colin with glazed-over eyes, only to see his own eyes screwed shut. Still hearing little mutters between his moans. Occasionally, you pulled back to catch your breath, just to go back in without wasting another second. "Ohh...jesus.." He whispered, leaning back a little as the shlick of saliva continued throughout the room.

You continued until you pulled yourself back for a second, swallowing the saliva that was collected in your mouth. Colin's hand gripped your head tighter, immediately pushing you back down, causing you to suddenly deepthroat him out of nowhere. A squeak of surprise left you, eyes wide open for a moment. The squeak sent a small vibration through Colin, making a few mumbling swears leave his own lips. You felt the viscous warmth being shot into your mouth, your cheeks puffing slightly to encompass it all. Slowly pulling yourself away, you managed to swallow what you could, licking your lips of whatever dripped out of the corners of your mouth.

"j-jesus.." Colin breathed out, letting go of your head and gazing down at you as you caught your breath. "..I love you.." He whispered with a small smile, reaching his hand down to your cheek.

With a smile back, you could barely reply without some breaths in between. "I love you more. Feelin' a little better now?" You asked softly, moving to stand up between Colin's legs. His hands wandered around your thighs, squeezing at the skin there, nodding in silent reply to your question. Letting his fingers reach behind for the tail plug, feeling the tactile fluff that stuck out of you. "Ha..yeah I um, I was just getting this, suit, but was bored and searched a bit more. Eventually finding this..plug. Was it worth it?"

Colin's hands wandered up to your waist, gripping it and pulling you up slightly, letting himself fall back onto the bed. Your legs moved to straddle him comfortably and lean down slightly. "Yeah, it was definitely worth it." He chuckled breathlessly, once again feeling the latex that hugged your body. "...Could you wear it a bit more?"

Raising an eyebrow, you smirked slightly and kissed Colin again. "Of course I can." Your lips met his again, your hands wrapping around the back of his neck. It was certainly going to be a long night.

And you were certainly glad Colin had a day off tomorrow.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx / @doll3tt33

#colin zabel #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel x you #colin zabel smut #colin zabel imagine #colin zabel x y/n #mare of easttown #evan peters #evan peters x reader #smut #x reader #fluffy smut

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magicalmanhattanproject · 1 year ago

Text

so i wanna talk about 2b2t, specifically as a backstory for qfit. because the thing is everyone talks about 2b2t as a wasteland and a wreck and a bombed out warzone and like. it sure as hell isn't not that. but it's also a server that people keep on coming to. it's a server that takes pride in actively murdering new members, but it's a server that keeps on having new members

so, what's the draw? what keeps people coming and coming back?

well, the thing about an anarchy server is that it has no rules, be they rules of society or rules of reality

the way i think about 2b2t is that it's a fucked up wonderland. like you know when someone makes a deal with a sinister fairy and it comes true in the worst way for them possible? that's how everything works on 2b.

you want infinite blocks for your builds? sure, the griefers have infinite tnt too. you want infinite totems to stay alive? sure, end crystal pvp means you're gonna need every last one of them. you want fame and fortune for griefing a legendary build? sure, you got a target on your back for the rest of your life though

but the thing is that the metaphorical fucked up fairies are busy. it's down to the individual server members to take care of the double dealing and the double crossing and the wreaking of havoc. and they do! with delight! but they can't* be everywhere at once.

so, you have a chance. you can get lucky. you can get lucky for a while. you can build a nice little life for yourself. you can even get it off the back of tearing other people down if you're quick and you're clever and that's much faster and easier than trying to grind your own resources the vanilla way when every moment is a race against the clock before your base gets found and griefed but you can try and you can do pretty well and you can try again and you can try to get revenge and you can make friends and you can make enemies and you can have everything you ever wanted for the low, low price of everything you ever had and why not pay it when you can just build it all back up again

the other things about 2b2t that i think points to fucked up fairy wonderland instead of standard wartime dystopia is so much of how the server works is really best understood as necromancy-adjacent. so every account is a different person, right? well, some people have a half dozen faces just in case someone finds out where one sleeps. sometimes. there was that one time one guy's shambling corpse** just got reanimated by a completely different guy who took over his identity and no one really minded when they found out

there's an entire population of bots that move and act like players and communicate in all the ways players can barring hte most intimate*** and they literally can't be distinguished from players in most circumstances but they're used as delivery drones so they'll bring you a package and then die in front of you so you can't follow them back to the cache

like this is just!! a thing!!! that people live with!!!!!!!

2b2t has highway unions!! it also has collectives who go around destroying the highways!! there are compassionate souls making community areas!! those areas are griefed to hell and back but not beyond recognizibility!!

it's all just an absolutely fascinating world and it deserves to be explored in how it affects fit's character a lot more than just "ptsd from bombs" even though that's also a massive part of it

*NOCOM notwithstanding

**To be clear bc it wasn't a roleplay bit, the original player is still alive, but he's got no intention of returning to 2b2t so his cubito is definitely dead.

***They can like spam crouch and send messages in chat and you're not gonna want to hop in a vc with a rando from 2b2t

#sorrelposting #qsmp #fitmc #qsmp fitmc

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celestial-toys · 5 months ago

Text

Observation Duty

“You said your eyes are everywhere, huh?”

Your question is met with silence.

Now, if you had been looking down at him instead of facing the ceiling, you’d have caught the brief image of your living room security cam footage as it flashed across the screen of his faceplate. You’d have seen the moment you tripped playing on a sped up loop over and over, your knee hitting the table’s corner, your body hitting the floor, laundry falling and dog food scattering just to rise back up unnaturally as the footage plays again in reverse.

You weren’t looking down though, you weren’t looking anywhere at all- and so you missed it completely, thinking nothing of his silence and continuing to talk to the ceiling.

“So… what, you just enjoy watching me do chores?”

- - -

Seeking distraction from the work weighing on your mind, you start a little play-argument with the tetchy automaton currently hogging your couch. It soon evolves into a verbal dance, skirting around some heavier topics that threaten to trip up the both of you as your conversation moves too quickly for this listless afternoon.

As usual, he takes all of your antics in stride. Well… mostly. Kinda.

Look- he’s trying, okay?

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader - GN!Reader

Word Count: 4,934

Contains: [AU - Real World] [argument] [feelings] [implied past trauma] [intimidation] [lack of communication] [minor injuries] [obsessive behavior] [sentient AI] [size difference] [surveillance] [tension] [touching (not sexual but the consent is still dubious)] [tsundere/yandere Sun] [unsettling]

A/Ns: Once again, the above CW's probably make it sound worse than it is, but I like to err on the side of caution.

This fic is part of my AU "[Not] Made by Design", the full series can be found here.

The light of the screen in front of you burns into your tired eyes. Your focus is waning, your mind preferring to wander instead to how badly you’re craving an afternoon coffee. Sighing, you push yourself away from your desk, leaning back into the chair as its wheels roll with the momentum. Bumping into the wall behind you with a soft thud, you slump in your seat, staring with unfocused eyes at nothing in particular.

A few deep breaths and a short-lived moment of empty-headed bliss later, you remove your glasses and rub your eyes with the knuckles of your curled fingers. Digging your heels into the floor and dragging your chair forward again, you place your glasses on the desk, and note the time. You’ve been in the office for several hours at this point, and if you stay much longer you’re willing to bet a certain Sun-themed bot will be beating down your door demanding that you take a break. So, after double-checking that your work is saved, you put your PC to sleep. Standing and reaching for the ceiling as you stretch, you grimace at the cracks from your back and shoulders.

Making your way out of the room and down the hall, you round a corner, entering the living room. The blackout shades are down, all lights off save for the soft yellow glow coming from a small lamp in the corner. The bright afternoon sun is peeking its way through the edges of the windows that the shades don’t quite cover.

Moon would likely complain about how “dark and sad” it looks if he were in here, but you don’t see him. You figure he might be in the kitchen, or outside charging, maybe. Regardless, if he isn’t here to bother Sun about his “depressing” lighting choices, you will in his stead.

The robot has situated himself across the length of your couch, which is quite a feat considering the thing is honestly just a glorified loveseat and even you can’t lay on it comfortably. For being as large as they are, their flexibility makes up for it, allowing Sun and Moon to be genuinely impressive in their ability to fit into relatively small spaces. You try not to mentally pat yourself on the back for the role you played in that ability.

This isn’t about you anymore.

The soft white glow coming from his screen is enough to illuminate the pages of the book in his hands, and from what you can see of it you think you recognize the cover as being the one you were telling them both about last night as you were falling asleep.

…Cute.

You smile, leaning against the wall as you speak up.

“Y’know, my parents used to always nag me about my bad habit of reading in the dark. It seems I’ve somehow passed that trait along to you.”

Sun hums, tone soft and dismissive, and doesn’t pull his gaze away from the book when he speaks.

“It’s not dark, the lamp’s on.”

One black silicone fingertip lifts the corner of the right page, gently pulling it across and splaying his hand out to flatten the book down again. You note how the width of his fingers span beyond both edges of the book. It almost looks too small in his hands, but then again… most things do.

“Besides, I can see just fine in the dark. The lamp is for you.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

There’s humor in your voice, speaking as you push up off the wall and make your way across the room towards him. “Yes, and I do appreciate you leaving me enough light to get around by.”

You cautiously perch behind him on the right arm of the couch, careful not to get your loose clothes caught on any of his protruding rays. You’re aware that in his eyes, you’re clumsy enough even with the lights on, let alone trying to navigate in the almost-dark. Given that, you aren’t sure if it’s truly his disdain for bright lights, or simply his desire to see you struggle that drives him to keep the areas he occupies dimly lit.

Looking down at the coffee table, a recent memory surfaces and you frown.

“Speaking of navigating in the dark… my knee still hurts from slamming it into the corner of the coffee table last week, you know?”

From your position behind him you can’t see how his display shifts from its soft, blank white, his digital approximation of facial features materializing only to shift into a grimace. You do hear the shift in his tone of voice, although you can’t quite name what it is. Exasperation? Or… concern?

“I know. I’m surprised it didn’t bruise.”

“Well, you know me, I have to take quite a hard hit for my skin to really show it.” You think for a moment, and add onto the statement, muttering mostly to yourself but his hearing catches it all the same. “Which has always been odd to me considering how easily my skin scars…”

He hums a little bit in acknowledgment, trying not to think too hard about your various scars and how you got them. “Well, from the sound you made when it happened I thought you’d really injured yourself.”

Your voice takes on a playful tone of offense. “I am injured! It hurt!” You reach down and gently press over the spot that hurts the most, unable to resist the urge to poke the non-existent bruise through the plush fabric of your lounge pants. You murmur to yourself as much as to Sun, “...and it’s still sore...”

His body releases air in semblance of a sigh, lowering the book to his lap. Still looking down at it while he speaks, his tone is a mixture of teasing and I-told-you-so. “While it may have been semi-dark in here when it happened- I’m not taking the blame for it. Things like that just happen when you run around doing three things at once.”

A small surprised laugh escapes you. “How do you know what I was doing, huh?” You reach out and carefully run a fingertip along the edge of his top ray. “You weren’t even in the room, silly.”

His rays twitch slightly but he doesn’t retract them much as his faceplate slowly tilts back, stopping at an impossible angle for any human and finally making eye contact with you, albeit upside-down. “My eyes are everywhere, doll.”

His tone is something you’d call playfully threatening and you hold his steady gaze for a long moment before eventually blinking and glancing away, conceding to a contest you could never win.

It’s cute when he tries to be scary.

A half-smile on your face, you dismiss his attempt to unsettle you. Halloween is next month. “Mhm. I’m sure they are.”

From your peripheral vision you watch his expression falter, his yellow eyes flickering to red just briefly before he speaks. “You were carrying a bowl filled with dog food in your left hand, fresh laundry from the dryer was hanging off both of your shoulders, and you were wiping down the coffee table with your favorite brown towel in your right hand. All at once. While cursing.”

You throw a confused look at him that he ignores in favor of continuing to reprimand your past actions. “You’re incapable of doing one thing at a time, aren’t you? Truly reckless behavior, you know. That’s how people get hurt.”

You let out a put-upon sigh. He’s not wrong, but you don’t want to admit it yet.

Time for a diversion, then.

“Hey, I can multitask! I built both of you at the same time and it turned out alright, didn’t it?”

For a moment, the room is absolutely silent as you both process what you just let slip. You’re about to rush to correct yourself when Sun beats you to it, speaking up.

He laughs at first, soft and a little dismissive.

“Not quite the same thing, sunshine.”

Alright, well… it seems he’s less bothered by the reminder than you thought he’d be. That, or he’s getting better at hiding his true feelings, which is a whole other issue you’ll have to tackle if that’s the case.

You cock your head to the side. Might as well play into it, then.

“No? How so?”

His eyes flicker to red, and this time they stay that way as his faceplate turns, click-click-clicking and stopping when it’s done a 180 so he can look at you properly.

Oh. He’s not smiling.

On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t push the topic.

“You designed us, doll. You didn’t build us, and you didn’t do it alone. You had a whole team behind you.”

Not breaking eye contact with you, Sun’s left hand that had been cradling the open book in his lap closes in an instant. A sudden, sharp clap resounds in the room as a result of the book folding closed so harshly in his grip. You internally grimace at the way it makes you flinch.

Your eyes flick from the book held tight in his grip, to his faceplate, watching his expression fade until his display is completely black. Any attempts at appearing somewhat humanoid thrown out the window, he releases a breath of hot air through his vents as you stare into the void of his screen. You know he’ll likely elaborate if you give him the space to do so, so you take a deep breath of your own, and wait.

It’s always somehow so much more unnerving to hear him speak when his “face” is gone, but you hang onto his every word regardless. You’re not gonna look away from something- someone you made.

“Besides, let’s not forget that even with a whole team of humans, you still managed to fuck up some… aspects… of the project.” Having dropped the comforting illusion of his false eyes, his faceplate tilts, a small, sudden, sharp movement so his ocular sensor can stare directly at you. “Didn’t you?”

Your stomach drops at the realization of what he’s referencing. At least… you think you know. Honestly, there’s an entire list of things that happened back in the facility that they have every right to resent you for.

You’re not sure what to say anymore. There really aren’t any magic words that can make it better. You hurt them. You all did. End of argument.

The realization must be obvious on your face, because his screen soon switches back to his default expression and he seems quite pleased with himself for about ten whole seconds. Then as quickly as it came, the expression he wears shifts into one of hesitation, frustration, and then finally- worry? Maybe? At this point it’s getting hard to tell what the hell he’s feeling, if you ever could.

“Sun… I… I don’t-”

You manage to hold his gaze as you stumble in search of the right words, watching his expression morph from one emotion to the next until his right hand moves, and your eyes immediately flick towards the motion. Your gaze drags up his arm as slowly, his shoulder joint rotates enough to allow him to reach all the way behind him- towards you- hand reaching out to gently cup your right cheek.

You don’t lean away. You won’t.

You dig your nails into the fabric of the couch. His thumb slips under the edge of your jaw as his fingers splay across the side of your head, and you can feel the slight pressure as his thumb lays against your carotid artery.

He doesn’t speak at all this time but from past experience, your mind easily fills in the words he usually says to you as he does this.

Deep breath in. Hold it. Let it out slowly.

You know what he’s doing, and you let him. It’s far from the first time he’s done it.

His mixed expression doesn’t change, his hand doesn’t move, and the silence drags on until you can’t take it anymore. Your voice shakes but you push past it to get the words out.

“I… I swear to god- Sun- like I’ve said before, if I’d’ve had any clue that you two were alive back then-”

You’re forced to squint as his entire screen suddenly flashes, solid white, red, black, repeating several times. His grip on your cheek tightens just slightly. A warning of sorts, if you had to guess. It shuts you up fast and he hisses out an irritated “Don’t.”

Confusion is written on your face and without thinking, you open your mouth to insist on your apology.

His thumb immediately slips under your chin, pressing your mouth closed with such a slow, gentle motion contradicting his current demeanor that it practically gives you whiplash. As soon as your mouth is closed his thumb slips right back to its prior position over your pounding pulse, and his display fades back down to solid black.

“Stop talking. It fucks up my readings when you speak.”

Your brow furrows in frustration at first, but you do what he asked, and what you’re good at. You sit there with him in the quiet and focus on your breathing as the sounds of his cooling system kick up a notch.

The seconds feel like they drag on for ages due to the way you focus on them, but in reality it’s only about three minutes later that he finally seems satisfied with the readings he took as he slowly retracts his hand from your head. The black void of his faceplate slowly lights up again, albeit he’s replaced his default expression with something more akin to a… dynamic wallpaper- yellow smoke billowing across a dark screen.

Whatever suits him, you suppose.

Folding his hands together over the book in his lap, he finally speaks, his tone low and unhappy but not angry, really.

“Your HRV is low and your RHR is high.”

Your response comes out sounding more dismissive than you mean for it to.

“Yeah, they usually are. Nothing new, unfortunately.”

Sun’s body tenses a bit and his rays retract slightly in response. He releases another hot breath through the vent at the base of his neck and you can feel the warmth on your thigh through the fabric of your pants. He speaks again, voice slightly strained.

“That’s my point. You need to relax, and talking about the past isn’t helping you do that right now. So just… drop it.”

You want to point out that he could stand to take his own advice, but you bite your tongue instead. He’s right, after all. You do need to relax. You both do, what with the two of you walking around ready to snap most of the time. In spite of that though, he’s doing his best to deescalate the situation and you ought to follow suit.

The lack of Moon’s calming presence is painfully obvious during times like these, but the two of you ought to be able to make it through one damn conversation without needing his assistance. You laugh a little to yourself, unamused but wearing half a smile nonetheless, shaking your head at the thought. As much as he’d hate to admit it, even Sun knows that the three of you work best when you’re all together, balancing each other out.

You sigh, and let yourself flop against the back of the couch, stretching your right arm out across the length of it. Sun’s invisible gaze follows you as his faceplate tilts on its axis and rotates to remain facing you. You note the way he’s letting his neck gently rest against your right thigh.

Leaning your own head back and closing your eyes in defeat, you speak towards the ceiling.

“Okay, fine, you’re right. I’ll drop it.”

You drum your fingertips along the fabric of the couch in thought, before adding, “...And… maybe... I was doing too much at once, when I hurt my knee on the coffee table last week.”

He lets out a little hum of agreement.

Still, if he thinks he’s fully won this silly little argument he’s got another thing coming. You’ve definitely still got a counterpoint. Counter… question? Whatever.

“You said your eyes are everywhere, huh?”

Your question is met with silence.

You weren’t looking down though, you weren’t looking anywhere at all- and so you missed it completely, thinking nothing of his silence and continuing to talk to the ceiling.

“So… what, you just enjoy watching me do chores?”

He chuckles in response, and the vibrations from the sound tickle your outer thigh, causing the muscles there to twitch involuntarily. You cringe at your body’s sensitivity, but Sun thankfully doesn’t react.

Begrudgingly, you open your eyes and crane your head back up, bringing your right hand up off the couch to lean on. You pull your left leg up towards yourself at the same time, heel propping up on the arm of the couch. Curling toward your right, you realize you’ve inadvertently wrapped your body around his head, which is all but resting in your lap at this point. His rays are mostly retracted by now and the display on his faceplate has shifted once again, yellow clouds still billowing across black but he’s allowed parts of his expression to return, pale white eyes emerging from the smoke.

His face is otherwise unreadable as he finally responds to you. “My priority is keeping you safe. How can I do that if I can’t see you?”

You can’t help but scoff a little at that. “Safe? You were- apparently- watching me, and still let me trip on one of Zero’s toys and slam my knee into the table.”

At that, his mouth returns and he frowns at your tone, and so do you, realizing that you came across a bit more accusatory than you meant to. A beat passes where you both just stare at each other, and his voice is a lot softer when he speaks again.

“Was I not by your side within seconds after the fall, checking you for injuries?”

He was, and you know it. He was on you inhumanly fast, cradling your head like you’d fallen off a ladder or something and not just tripped and fell to your hands and knees on plush carpet. He’s a worrier and you know it damn well, even if he’d rather be decommissioned than admit to it.

Unfortunately, you never learned how to let yourself accept help, nor how to stop being stubborn in a stupid argument that you started yourself. “...Yeah. I guess. But you still could have offered to help before I tripped.”

He rolls his eyes before they land back on you, fixing you with a look that’s unexpectedly soft. In stark contrast, his voice comes out strained. “I was trying not to hover, sunshine.”

Your eyes flick away from his, always unable to maintain the sustained contact once things got a little too serious.

He keeps talking regardless.

“I know you. You would have been like- ‘Oh, no, I’ve got it! Don’t even worry about it!’ and wouldn’t have let me help even if I did offer.”

You scoff before leveling him with an unamused stare. “Oh, I do not sound like that. Shut it.”

He’s wearing a neutral expression but you notice as it shifts slightly, a hint of satisfaction at having gotten under your skin beginning to make itself known. You watch the hint of emotion begin to alter his digital features, as well as his voice.

“Regardless. ‘No lesson is as powerful as the lesson learned on one’s own.’ Besides, I knew you’d be fine.”

You blink down at him for a moment as you process his statement, and fail to contain your exasperated huff of annoyance when you realize where you’ve heard some of those words before.

“Don’t quote Night Vale at me right now, Sun.”

If you hadn’t been watching him so closely, you’d have missed the way his eyes turned upwards a bit, seemingly pleased with himself.

You continue, in spite of his attempts to deflect your words.

“You didn’t sound so self assured when you were rushing over to me on the floor with those big red “eyes” of yours blown wide. You were all like- ‘Where does it hurt? Show me. Where. How bad? You didn’t hit your head, right? Forget about the dog food- look at me.’ and all that.”

His eyes shift from crescent moons to flat lines, and his voice returns to his typical deadpan tone.

“You do a terrible impression of me.”

You scoff.

“Like yours is better?”

He nods, his faceplate shifting up and down within the limited range of motion he’s allowed, given your current position.

“I can literally mimic your voice. Mine is objectively superior.”

Thoughts of The Mimic flash in your mind, and it takes all you’ve got to not crack some sort of half-baked joke about the Ruin DLC. The smile on your face does little to hide the temptation, though.

“Debatable.”

Sun doesn’t press you for more, seeming less than eager to hear whatever joke he’s sure you’ve got sitting on the tip of your tongue.

“It’s not up for debate. If you wanna debate with someone go find Moon.”

He sighs heavily, breathing out his next words in an impressive display of realism given that his speech and breathing functions aren’t connected at all.

“I've run out of conversation juice.”

He shifts to sit back up, faceplate rotating, returning his body to its original position facing away from you. You huff and uncurl yourself from your perch on the couch. Moving to stand, you make your way around to the other end where his long legs cause his feet to jut out comically far past the armrest. You reach down, gently grabbing him by the ankles and begin to maneuver his legs out of the way, muttering to yourself as you do so.

“Wish I was a robot so I could lie and say my system has run out of something I don’t even have in the first place…”

He puts up no resistance as you fold his legs away accordion style, watching you in what almost seems like thoughtful silence. Once you’ve made room for yourself, you perch once again on the other arm of the couch, your feet resting on the far left cushion and your left side leaning against the backrest. He finally speaks once it seems that you’re settled.

“Alright. How would you rather I put it?”

You quirk an eyebrow up, slightly surprised at the sincere tone of his question. Shaking your head, you're quick to convey that you were only joking.

“No, no I didn't say to change it. I like ‘conversation juice', I think it’s funny.”

He tilts his head a bit, slow and analyzing. Half a smile slowly curls across his face and both of his eyes take on a soft, pale yellow. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was tired. He's looking at you with such a gentle gaze. It's almost… sad, if you look closely enough.

“Funny? Hm. Well, I suppose I am nothing if not a clown.”

His attention drifts back down to his book, cracking it open and flipping through to return to the page he left off on in no particular hurry.

You know his deadpan tone likely isn’t meant to sound so self deprecating but your heart still hurts at the thought that he only sees himself as some sort of… novelty toy. A joke. A mechanical clown for you to play with when you’re bored. A comedic horror character brought to life.

He can only make so many jokes about himself before they start to sound less like jokes and more like a way for him to vent his insecurities. You understand that type of “humor” far too well to just sit back and watch him do it to himself.

You struggle to resist the urge to remind him that there is much, much more to him than being modeled after that character from that game. You consider reaching out and curling the tip of a finger under the bottom edge of his face plate. You think about gently tilting his face away from the book and back up at you. You want to look him in the eye while you tell him all of the things that you love about him, and how much he means to you, and that he is so much more than a clown.

But you know he handles comfort and praise just about as well as a cat handles falling into a bathtub, so… you resist the urge. For now.

Eventually, one day, likely far from now, you hope to get him used to the amount of love you have to give, and you’ll smother him with it like you want to. But if you lay it all on him like that right now, he would probably overheat and shut down. Both metaphorically and literally.

You really don’t want that to happen again. Scared the hell out of you last time. Even knowing that it’s a safety measure to ensure that he doesn’t sustain damage from overheating- it looks an awful lot like he’s dying when it happens and you’d like to not have to see it again.

So, you opt to keep things lighthearted. You smile as you reach out to pat him on the knee.

“And an excellent clown you are, dear.”

There’s more sugar in your tone than you intended to let out, but if he knew everything you really wanted to say, he’d realize that you’re actually being very reserved right now.

You’re being very normal about it all, you think, as you silently praise yourself.

When you finally get out of your thoughts and back into your body, you realize that you’re being eyed by the man on your couch in such a way that indicates he knows you were caught up in your head again. You spent too long in silence before you responded to him and now he’s likely aware that you were wanting to say something else.

A lot else, actually.

So, before he can potentially ask you what you’re thinking about, you attempt to change the topic. Laughing a bit to yourself, you stretch and shift to make your sudden and hopefully casual retreat from the couch and the awkward air you’ve clouded around it. Twisting around and planting your feet on the floor, there’s forced humor in your voice as you wonder aloud where his other half is.

“Speaking of clowns, what’s Moon been up to while I was working?”

Sun’s expression is unreadable as he spares you one last moment of his visual attention before angling his monitor back down toward the book. You know he’s perfectly capable of taking in visual information while outputting completely separate verbal communication, and can give both tasks his full attention simultaneously in the way no human truly could. Still, in spite of that knowledge, you doubt he’s really paying much attention to the words on the pages before him as he speaks to you right now.

“You know that sad, sad little plant that’s been fighting for its life on your kitchen windowsill for the last… thirty-seven days?”

You cringe a bit at the reminder of the succulent you impulse-purchased recently- well, a tad longer than recently if Sun’s count is accurate, which you know it is. You’ve been meaning to re-pot the poor thing and find a different place for it where it’ll receive better light, but… you’ve been meaning to do a lot of things.

“...Yeah…”

“Last I saw, he took it outside through the back door. He was muttering something about ‘saving’ it.”

Your eyebrows knit as your gaze casts across the floor.

“Saving it... okay.”

As far as you’re aware, you don’t have any potting soil on hand, so you struggle to feature what he’s out there doing with it.

It’s right around this time that you notice the silence of the house amidst your quiet consideration.

You raise another question.

“I assume Zero followed him out there?”

Sun’s true focus seems to be gradually shifting away from you and back into the book, if his display’s shift back to blank, soft white and his neutral-toned yet concise reply are anything to go off of.

“Mhm.”

You suck in a breath and pat your legs before easing yourself up off of the couch.

“I'm gonna go see what they’re up to, then.”

You’re so bold as to lay a gentle hand briefly on his shoulder as you pass him by, lingering just long enough to let something sincere slip.

“I hope you enjoy the book.”

He kicks his folded legs back out, crossing them as they come to rest on the opposite armrest once again.

“Don’t spoil it for me.”

You smile at his avoidance of your sentimentality, laughing a bit as you cross the room, headed for the back door, your tone playful.

“I make no promises!”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! You can find my (lengthy) commentary on this fic in the end notes right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog's pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Header Image Source: x

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