#dreadop | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewallsaretalking-again · 5 months ago

Text

you know what?? Fuck it, there's something I've GOTTA talk about:

(don't worry this isn't like a serious post or anything. also its gonna be really badly written with grammar errors because I'm just really excited to finally be talking about this and I'm shaking like a leaf) (also, if you don't agree with this that is completely fine; everybody ships different ships, this is just one that I personally love and me explaining how it came to be and how I image it. I'm not trying to convince anybody of anything, this is just for fun. If you don't like, that's fine! All I ask is that there is no hate and that you just move on. Thank you!)

I love rairpairs. Like, LOVE them. Anyone who's seen my old transformers art knows that I ship DreadOp which is like, a nonexistent ship. like, the ship equivalent of being an endangered species (there's like 10 fics about it on AO3, so you KNOW it's rare). There's a few examples of me being like this but this is the best example that i have.

But this has gotten to the point where i have done something absolutely ridiculous: I have created an entirely new ship- no, TWO entirely new ships (I'm only going to be focusing on one rn). AND I'VE GOTTA TALK ABOUT THEM because honestly? I love them! so, what monstrosity have I created? Whoo... prepare yourselves (especially you, dark cacao cookie fans...)

Yep. Don't hate me. Please hear me out because honestly iv'e seen more heinous ships in my time on the internet.

so, first of all, the white dude is known as the milk village elder in CRK, and we only see him once in the entire game (that i know of). I love taking npc's and giving them characters, so this is kinda how this happened. I'm gonna start by talking about the milk dude and how i headcannon/ imagine him because it will come into play later.

I gave the milk village elder the name Whole Milk Cookie, because i couldn't exactly call him Milk Cookie; that names already been taken

Whole Milk Cookie isn't actually anyone's grandfather, despite him being called grandad/ grandpappy in the actual game. We never see anyone his age in the milk village, and I like to imagine that its sorta like an honorary title. Like, he acts like everyone's grandpa, so everyone calls him grandpa but no one is actually related to him.

Whole Milk Cookie is like, ungodly sweet. Like, diabetes kind of sweet. its ridiculous. there are only a few ways to get him angry; and trust me, you don't want to...

He's strong. Like, think Hollyberry type strong. Gives the BEST hugs too.

Nobody knows exactly how old he is, but people suspect that he's actually much older than he looks. This could be caused by his extreme talent with the milk that comes from the villages well; if its used right, the milk can cure disease, help pains, or even extend someone's lifespan/ help retain youth. either that or he's some sort of demon but hey, who's counting?

got all that? good. Now the question everybody's asking; why the hell do i ship this? What's the story here? What's the origin? Well hold onto your pants folks because this is where we get into me overanalyzing shit.

behold the line that started it all:

This is so SO vague. why the hell did they put this in here it is SO VAUGE. what does he mean by "THAT king"? you know what it sounds like? someone reminiscing of their time with a loved one who has now changed....

they never elaborate on what exactly this line means and this is the very last line we hear Whole Milk Cookie say in the main story

wondering where exactly he's gone instead of wondering when he's coming back? idk man you sound worried about him...

also saying "laid your eyes upon" just sounds so gay/loving and i don't know why. yeah your laying something thats for sure glfbnvbrfnjkrb (im so sorry)

There's also this line:

The ally thing is kind of given, but why and how isn't this guy talking shit about dark Cacao? Like, he has EVERY right to! but he's not.... its almost like he cares.... and sure he mentions the generation thing but just because your parents were friends with some dude doesn't mean you necessarily like them right? so what gives??

Then there's the matter of Dark Cacao Cookies SON:

who is DArk CHOCOLATE

now Dark Chocolate usually doesn't have any milk/dairy in it, but it DOES need a fat, which whole milk DOES have!!

So, in theory, it would make sense for cacao and milk to make chocolate of some kind, AND it would account for Dark Choco Cookie having a lighter skin tone than his father (lighter eyes and the double white hair streak too)

I also like the story implications outside of cannon:

two people who would generally not be allowed to be in a relationship due to differing status keep a relationship going for years behind the backs of their communities

Dark Cacao Cookie taking full responsibility for taking care of their son, only for everything to become too overwhelming and he begins to remove himself from everything emotionally, wanting to give his son over to his other father to be properly taken care of but can't due to the dangers that poses for everyone in his family

Dark Choco nearly kills him and Dark Cacao has to exile him and (because of a mix of psychological manipulation, grief, and regret) locks up the citadel, leaving Whole Milk Cookie out of the picture entirely

Whole Milk Cookie stews in anger due to everything that's happened and Dark Cacao cookie not taking proper care of their son but eventually falls into guilt as well because he saw the signs of stress and overworking from his partner and didn't step in, assuming that everything was fine (but is still mostly mad at Cacao because he REALLY fucked up and it's not an excuse)

Gingerbrave and the crew comes strolling up and gets the citadel open, and Dark Cacao admits to Dark Choco that he didn't care enough and that he should have done things differently, and that he loves his son. Dark Choco leaves the cookies of darkness and begins a journey of recovery while Dark Cacao vows to do better for his family and kingdom in the future.

Dark Cacao meets up with Whole Milk Cookie to truly apologize to him, admitting everything he's done wrong and that he should have done far, FAR better. He tells WM that he deserves better than him

Whole Milk is obviously still angry and will never forgive Dark Cacao for what he's done. but he still loves him despite everything and would much rather the two of them work together to fix things (not necessarily romantically, more just not hating each other wise) moving forward instead of breaking things off and stewing in grief and anger.

The two of them take things extremely slow and carefully because it's been a long and difficult process, but they, eventually, get back to where they were.

Their recovery process takes years, but by that point Dark Cacao has improved himself exponentially, wanting nothing but the best for his partner and kingdom (and now knowing exactly what NOT to do) They also eventually find Dark Choco Cookie and fix things with him, but that's a whole other can of worms I'm not going to open here.

Just generally a story of two very different people, who despite goin through unimaginable hardships, do their very best despite the circumstances. they love each other more than even they realize and the fact that they are able to fix what was broken by their own hands is a testament to that, despite all of the arguments and tears along the way.

TLDR: Dark Cacao fucks up, his husband is mad but still loves him because he knows him better than anyone else, Dark Cacao actually makes an effort and succeeds to be much much better, and the two of them eventually figure things out. An unlikely love story :)

Ok, wow, that was a lot and kinda sad. But there are a few thiings that i couldn't fit into the rest of this so imma just stick them here:

Whole Milk Cookie finds Immense joy in picking up his husband and throwing him across his shoulder like some kind of really important sack

Whole Milk calls Dark Cacao "Cacao bean"

Dark Cacao loves Whole Milk Cookies cooking to a stupid extent

Dark Cacao loves playing with his husbands fluffy hair

the two of them will often help each other do their hair because they both just have SO MUCH of it

Dark Cacao, despite popular belief, is a flustered mess around his husband and can very often be found blushing like a madman whenever Whole Milk uses his strength

these two have the ABSOLOUTE WORST bedheads. Like, Cacao HAS to braid his hair before going to bed because otherwise the two of them will wake up tangled in it. And Whole Milk will just have an untamable afro.

uhh anyways. thanks for coming to my ted talk

#yeah i wrote an entire essay on them #but im glad i did tbh #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk #dark cacao cookie #whole milk cookie #dark choco cookie #dark cacao cookie x whole milk cookie #milk village elder #shipping #rairpair #shitpost?#nah scratch that last one im pretty serious

22 notes · View notes

prpfz · 2 months ago

Note

🌻 hi! twenty she/her est. looking to write a long-term literate to novella transformers, demon slayer / kimetsu no yaiba or jujutsu kaisen roleplay! i have not read the manga of the last two medias but i am familiar with how both stories end, i’m just looking for something post-anime!

i write exclusively in discord servers for organization, and i don’t use tupperbot. i am multi-muse and i write all genders, and i enjoy a variety of oc / oc, canon / canon, canon / oc; the more, the merrier! i also love writing and discussing smut, but plot, lore and complex characters are all very important to me. if you like gushing about ships and characters, sharing fanart and playlists, making original characters just for the roleplay, expanding on lore, and generally being friends, please interact! i am very active both ic and ooc! below are ships i am drawn to but there are absolutely more!

transformers: prime. bulkjack, dratchet, dreadop, kobd, megop, ratchjack, smokebee, ultrajack, wavewave. demon slayer. amakaga, obamitsu, douaka, kokuzan, kokuaza, obasane, rengiyuu, renkaza, uzuren, shinomitsu. jujutsu kaisen. satosugu, sukugo, tojigo, tojikuna, nobamaki.

if you’re interested, please like and i will reach out! we can discuss the basics before we move to discord.

give a like and anon will get back to you

#transformers roleplay #transformers rp #demon slayer roleplay #demon slayer rp #jujutsu kaisen roleplay #jujutsu kaisen rp #fandom roleplay #fandom rp

12 notes · View notes

libermachinae · 3 years ago

Text

A Desert Symphony

Available on AO3 Summary: In the wake of near catastrophe, two rivals can take a brief respite together. Wordcount: 2265

---

A tunnel collapse, Optimus mused as he ran for his life, hand wrapped around Dreadwing’s elbow, was simultaneously the least interesting yet most dire situation to have forced him into an alliance with his assassin. The fight for the Apex Armor had been notable for being the first such incident, and following team-ups, precipitated by MECH and a glitched Insecticon swarm respectively, had presented their own challenges, but never had Optimus felt like his life was in imminent danger.

Here, though, with several tons of tumbling sediment licking at their heels and the exit a distant frame of the night sky, they could only do as Optimus had commanded the moment Dreadwing’s stray shot shattered a rotting support beam.

“Run!”

Optimus was grateful that Dreadwing had quickly given up his fighting to keep pace, but he feared it still wouldn’t be enough to save them both. Against an opponent that did not care about Autobots or Decepticons, Optimus too forgot factions, and his processor instead tagged Dreadwing as a Cybertronian in danger, in need. Borrowing the Matrix’s strength, he hurled Dreadwing forward, sending them stumbling. Optimus tried to catch himself, but the ground rolled beneath him and he tripped. He could feel himself falling, knew he wouldn’t be able to catch himself and make it out in time—

And then a hand seized his wrist and yanked.

He and Dreadwing tumbled outside, sprawling. Behind them, the mine gave a final shudder as the ceiling gave in and the tunnel vanished under upset stone, dust billowing out to blanket the kneeling robots. Optimus’ processor pinged with errors, sediment in his ventilation system and overtaxed actuators, and he had to take a moment to clear them before he could check on Dreadwing.

The jet was kneeling on the ground, powerful fans running louder than Optimus’ own. He looked for a moment like he might slip into shutdown, but in a flash of movement too fast to process Dreadwing was on his feet, the light of his cannon mimicked in the glare of his optics.

Like twin stars on the brink of supernova, Optimus thought as his systems primed, waiting on the signal to duck.

The night slipped into calm. Dust settled, a few pebbles skipping down to their final resting places. Insects, Optimus’ second favorite species from this planet, shook off their stunned silence and stirred up an enchanting, invisible chorus that sounded the way the dead shrubs around the mine entrance looked. Optimus stared into the barrel of his assassin’s weapon and was reminded of how, during the day, the sun would glare down on this part of the Earth until every living thing had fled its intensity. The cannon, a standard issue model, should have been the most familiar object in his vicinity.

Instead, he found it alien.

Dreadwing snarled. He threw the weapon to the ground, where it landed with a hollow clang. Its superheated core faded back to dim standby and the whine of its power converter bowed out to the native sounds. Tracking the greatest source of danger, Optimus glanced at it before returning to Dreadwing, whose face turned toward the stars, gaze flicking between them like a ship charting its course.

“Well, Prime?” he said. After the cacophony of the mine and the violence of his outburst, his voice sounded like an ancient engine, barely puttering with life. “It seems I am unable to kill you. I would recommend you take advantage of my failing, before my lord comes to dispatch us both.”

Optimus stood, though his frame protested. Not the ache he had expected, but upright he could see the dents, scores taken out of his paint where falling rocks had torn at his plating. A warning about fuel pressure disappeared before he could address it, which meant self-repair was busy in so many systems that priority trees had been scrambled. Not a dire syndrome, though he would be feeling his injuries longer.

It would be a long drive back to base, followed by inevitable hours of Ratchet’s repairing and lecturing before he could lie on his berth and let his own systems finish the job. The ache in his struts intensified.

“Dreadwing,” he said, “if you would—”

“No, Prime, I will not become an Autobot.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption, that Optimus would try to ask again. He had formed a habit of it, possessed by an untethered optimism each time he found himself alone with the Decepticons’ first lieutenant. It could be blamed on the leftover thrill of survival, but he knew it leaned more toward hubris: once he had experienced the way their movements and strategies synced amid the heat of battle, the way they could project their intentions with a look, he started imagining what they would be capable of if they had more than a minute to communicate. Optimus did not relish combat, but he understood its art; he recognized that the way he and Dreadwing complemented each other was almost prodigious.

But the thought that they might join in something more permanent was fantasy, and whether by the passing of the night or Dreadwing’s finite patience, Optimus knew he was on a timer.

“I understand,” he said, “but in fact, I only wished to ask for a few minutes. To rest together, before we depart for our respective bases.”

Dreadwing stared at him, optics widening before narrowing again as he turned half away from Optimus.

“Whatever you’re trying to—”

“No games, Dreadwing,” Optimus interrupted, “just one aged mechanism appealing to another. I can’t imagine you’re considering your coming flight with much enthusiasm.”

“We do not follow orders because they excite us,” Dreadwing growled.

“Ah. If Megatron has called you back, I will not keep you.” Both for Dreadwing’s safety and because Optimus understood what it meant to live for one’s duty, no matter the personal cost.

But Dreadwing did not move, and Optimus felt warmth bloom in his spark, the same buds that grew when he looked on his soldiers, or the humans they had befriended. Though at odds with Dreadwing’s glare, Optimus thought he saw it reflected in the way his foe hesitated before returning to him.

“If you turn on me, Prime, you will regret it,” Dreadwing swore as he stepped forward.

And what a remarkable thing that was, to know Dreadwing trusted him enough that Optimus could betray him. It was a precious thing, that trust, and Optimus nodded, watching as Dreadwing retrieved his cannon and holstered it.

He turned, keeping Dreadwing in his vision, and started for a bank of broken stones that led into the hills above the ruins of the mine. Away from soil that had been hard packed by years underneath rolling tires, the ground fragmented, loose dirt spilling out from between rocks that seemed made of dust themselves. Further up, and native plantlife started to break through as well: bundles of firm, green stalks, mounds of balled vegetal flesh decorated with spines and pink flowers, and delicate stems decked in thorny cotton armor, interspersed with countless more species Optimus could not track from his height.

Optimus walked until they were well enough away from the mine to see anyone approaching with a few minutes’ warning. Here, a chunk of rock had broken through the ground, a flat plane upon which all but the most stubborn roots and vines failed to thrive. He sat, expecting Dreadwing to take a place regardless of whatever was trying to live there, and so felt his spark pulse when instead his temporary ally rested beside him. A couple meters away, it was the most distance their platform would allow, and yet far closer than Optimus had expected Dreadwing to abide by. Both still had their weapons available, but they were offline and holstered; the empty air between them was as fragile as a sheet of foil.

They glanced at each other, the landscape. Optimus doubted it would be right to let insects take the place of conversation, but neither did he know what to say.

“I don’t understand you,” Dreadwing said, breaking their stalemate. His tone had shifted. Still the rasp of an overworked vocalizer, but without the force required to project threats across a battlefield. “You act as though we could be friends, allies. Such a notion suggests you are either a fool or know nothing of loyalty, but because you have secured the unfailing commitment of your Autobots, I can only assume it is the former.”

A smile quirked Optimus’ lips, though he smothered it; he would not risk offending Dreadwing and disrupting whatever this was. When they weren’t fighting to kill each other, he liked Dreadwing, appreciated his view of the universe and corresponding insights. He would be lying to claim his mind had not occasionally drifted, crafting dialogues and arguments between them with topics ranging from warfare to the metaphysics of organic life. That Dreadwing might think of him in turn, even if as a source of bafflement, was an honor.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he said. “I don’t consider it foolishness, though. The Matrix,” he placed a hand to his chest, “is hopeful. Whereas the Allspark brings us together in death, it hopes we might achieve the same in life.”

Dreadwing watched Optimus, but when he finished, his gaze turned to where the horizon might have been. The darkness of the world blended with the emptiness of space, so that the only way one might guess at their separation was to track the line of disappearing stars.

“Decepticons once sought the same,” Dreadwing said.

“Once?” Optimus asked, but Dreadwing stiffened again.

“I will not become an Autobot,” he repeated, each word weighted.

Without his bidding, Optimus’ plating compressed, a pinch of protectiveness that relaxed in the same rotation.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I will stop asking.” He could not suppress the Matrix’s hope on top of his own, but he would find a way to manage them.

That settled Dreadwing, but his gaze remained locked on Optimus. Optimus returned the look for a moment, then turned to the stars, taking his optics off Dreadwing for the first time since their escape.

“This world is far removed from our war,” he said. “I try to take moments to appreciate that. What they call life here is so distinct from our understanding of it, and yet there are times it almost seems our planets mimic each other. The way this one seethes with life, it reminds me of how Cybertron once was.”

“And you honor it by looking at long-dead stars?” Dreadwing asked.

“When were you last able to look to the sky without seeing a map?” Optimus returned. “Or battleplans? I take comfort in the reminder that for some, the cosmos are still a source of wonder.”

He glanced over, and to his delight found that Dreadwing was looking up, too, his wandering gaze turned slow and roving.

“Skyquake thought something similar,” he said, voice dropped down to a hush, like he worried the world was listening. Optimus leaned in. “This was his first off-world deployment, and he spoke of how the night sky would be different from our own.”

Dreadwing’s fists curled at his sides. On an instinct forged for the sake of his own team, Optimus reached a finger and brushed the clenched knuckles. Dreadwing’s tension flared, pulling in his whole frame, before he released it, his fingers opening onto the flat of the stone.

“I do not regret surviving our encounter,” Optimus said, “but I will always wish there had been another way. The only comfort I can offer is the promise that you and your brother will be together again one day.”

“I know,” Dreadwing said, dropping his gaze again so they looked into each other’s eyes. He tapped his chest with a claw. “I feel it. He waits for me at the threshold of the Well.”

Optimus did not know how the light caught his expression, but Dreadwing tilted his helm, a twitch on his lips that could have buried a laugh.

“Come now, Optimus, hasn’t my brother already proven his patience?” he said. “Despite the years this war took from us, I have rushed to his side only once, and even then I was already too late. I will not hurry again to join him.”

“Good,” Optimus said. Dreadwing’s tightly controlled expressions were an enigma, but this was the gentlest he had ever seen on the warrior. Not a smile, but the corners of his optics crinkled in a way that one might mistake for fondness.

“Whatever becomes of us,” whether he die by Dreadwing’s cannon, or Megatron’s, or something far less predictable, “I would like to see you there. Both of you, together.”

Dreadwing said nothing. But when their fingertips brushed, he did not pull back, and there was a hiss as his wings lowered out of standby configuration. They rested together, listening to the harmony of the alien world, their idle engines rolling in discordant melodies. It was the kind of sound that could be called silence, and Optimus did not dare break it when he pointed up to the passing shadows of night hunters or the band of whining, singing dancers that wove rhythmically across the plain.

They stayed together until the stars began to fade and the horizon cut itself away from the sky. They were gone, driving and flying in opposite directions, before the flowers could close and the insects retreat underground, and so in their minds the oasis of the night persisted, an unexpected peace amidst what had once seemed a hostile world.

#my fic for the rarepair zine #that i only remembered to post bc i saw an ask about this ship lol #maccadam #transformers #dreadwing #optimus prime #dreadop #my writing #oneshot #a desert symphony #hello my old spark

50 notes · View notes

ny000mdraws · 2 years ago

Text

my tfp poly!op au where his partners are dreadwing, ko, ratchet, and smokescreen. these sketches focused more on dreadop

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp optimus prime #tfp dreadwing #my ocs #maccadam

179 notes · View notes

baebeyza · 3 years ago

Note

Ships for fics:

KnockOP, KnockStar, DreadOP, MegaStar, OverOP, RatOut, WheelRat, DriftRat, DriftRod, StarOP, and I'll stop right there

Thank you! ~

Long list, okay:

First off, I can't give ideas for DriftRod, DriftRat and OverOP. Despite drawing Overlord recently, I have never finished id/w and don't plan to, meaning I have no idea for the story, their stories and their characters. (I draw my own version of Overlord that only exists in my one fic)

Off to the rest!

KnockOP

Would do what many artists on pixiv do - Let Oppy get really flustered by Knockout's flirting and go from there. Knockout keeps flirting and eventually Optimus gives in and accepts his advances, regardless if Knockout meant them to be actual romantic advances or not. But who would say no to Optimus fucking Prime, amirite-

KnockStar

Knockout bringing Starscream to a drive-in theater (don't ask me how) and Starscream actually ends up enjoying it. Mostly because he was away from his stressful workplace and was able to chill. Thanks Knockout for this opportunity

DreadOP

AU in which Megatron aint blasting Dreadwing's spark out, meaning he has a chance of survival. Megatron's throws his "corpse" out the ship and Optimus finds him, saving his life.

Caretaker romance ensues, as Optimus takes great care of Dreadwing, happy to help someone survive, and Dreadwing falls in love about the kindness and compassion he is shown

MegaStar

For TFP I'd write something in which after Starscream stabs himself with Dark Energon as well, they form a connection with which they can feel each other. And Megatron would always feel Starscream's agony about being alone and powerless, but pretend not to care. Until he can't take it anymore and goes to get him after all

RatOut

Ratchet gets injured and can't fix the damage himself, so Knockout's gotta do it. Ratchet is really tense and Knockout tries to reassure him that he isn't a Con anymore, and they build trust (and eventually romance)

WheelRat

Ratchet seeks Wheeljack in an attempt to distract himself from his pain over Optimus' death, as Wheeljack is so different from OP. Wheeljack realises this and while he takes offence at first, thinking to only be seen as a rebound, he slowly sees that Ratchet is simply and hurts and seeks comfort

StarOP

Starscream actually agrees to peace when Optimus offers it, wanting to lure them all into a trap, but Optimus is so sincere and kind that he ends up falling for him

#transformers #tfp #megastar #wheelratch #starop #knockstar #ratchout #knockop #transformer posting #asks

58 notes · View notes

poptimus-prime · 4 years ago

Note

Can we get some more soundstar Headcannons please

Ahahahaha it only took me checks calendar ...2 months to get to these. I blame school and my brain’s inability to Focus.

Anyways.

I have not Thought About This Ship(TM) in a long time because my head has been in another rarepair hell (DreadOp my beloved--) when it is in rarepair territory (Is SoundStar a rarepair? I feel like it is.) ANYWAYS.

I can see Laserbeak sleeping on Starscream’s helm. Or at least trying to. She wants to be close to Dad Number Two but he doesn’t have somewhere where she can easily dock (IE, how she can attach to Soundwave’s chest.)

These two would probably be a Power Couple. If they led the Decepticons without intervention, they would have won the war EASILY. But no, someone had to get in their way while packing space crack.

Soundwave is super into Earth’s fauna, humans aside. Starscream isn’t so much, but he’s able and willing to tolerate it for Soundwave.

This being said, Starscream is very interested in the aerial history of humanity and Soundwave will listen to his rambles even though he doesn’t really care about it personally.

These two have broken into a mall at night. Any particular reason? Not really, they just got an itch to cause minor level chaos. How they got through the door and past security measures without tripping anything or breaking something is beyond me. But Soundwave is kinda known for that, ain’t he?

That’s about all I have right now!

#tfp soundwave #tfp starscream #soundstar

172 notes · View notes

final-milf-ratchet · 7 months ago

Note

Dreadwing/Optimus/Magnus/Predaking again

Optimus and Ultra Magnus have been separated for soo long, they don't even know if the other is still alive..

Optimus is so happy that Dreadwing agreed to live with them, he really had a feeling something bad would happen otherwise.. The rest of the team gets used to Dreadwing at varying speeds (Arcee being chill with him is so funny but also I can see it perfectly). But Optimus *really* gets attached, spending a lot of time with Dreadwing (which makes sense, he's the team leader and the one who convinced Dreadwing to stay !)

Optimus and Ultra Magnus are SO relieved once everything calms down and they can finally rejoice that the other is still alive.. Despite all this time spent lightyears apart, despite the War, they're together again and still as in love as ever..

Though of course, Optimus is quick to explain to Magnus how Dreadwing joined them, how he's gotten attached to him and how he thinks it's more than friendship.. They have a long talk - while cuddling in bed - and Magnus ends it by giving Optimus his blessings to pursue Dreadwing.. though now he really wants to learn to know the guy better ! It's no small feat to snatch his husband's heart.. (Magnus and Dreadwing do form a friendship, at the same time Optimus and Dreadwing get involved romantically)

Then somehow Magnus, after being taken during the fight, convinces Predaking of their side of the story, and soon enough he's coming back to the team with Predaking, and there's some weird thing going on there as well.. Optimus is wary, but as long as Magnus is happy then he is as well. And Predaking seems to get along with Dreadwing - they're both warriors of honor etc, they have quite a few things in common - so really, all is good...

Oh my GOD. Dreadwing and Magnus are already pretty big mechs (a truck and a jet !) but Optimus is HUGE, and Predaking, somehow, is even more huge. The space they take up standing is already a lot, but laying down ? It's ridiculous. Of course, Dreadwing and Predaking HAD to curl up together, no other way around it..

The first thing they do, when everyone is getting settled after winning the War.. is get the biggest berth ever, so they can all cuddle up together and be comfortable..

Now. They have an appropriately sized berth. Perfect to pin down their blue boyfriends.. Dreadwing and Magnus are clingy in bed, so whenever they can they're kissing and holding hands.. Optimus and Predaking LOVE watching them do that as they rail the two into the berth.. watching their kiss get more and more messy the longer they go, until Dreadwing and Magnus are basically just holding and nuzzling each other..

luckily nothing bad ever happened to Dreadwing :) never ever :)

augh.... Optimus and Magnus cuddling and talking about how their lives have been since they last saw each other... Optimus telling Magnus more about Dreadwing..... Magnus HAS to get to know the mech whos captured Optimus' spark!!! Magnus and Dreadwing fwiendship 🥺🥺🥺

Magnus somehow convincing Predaking to at least listen (magussy)(actually it was facts and logic™ and mostly Magnus being a fairly stoic put together guy, but also the magussy definitely was a factor)

ohhhhh noooooooooooo Predaking and Dreadwing have to cuddle. oh no 😈😈 Dreadwing has to be the little spoon to his big buff dragon boyfriend-in-law 😈😈😈 (meanwhile Magnus and Optimus are having very soft cuddle time) a massive berth is a MUST!! maybe its a gift from the other autobots (and because they're tired of hearing everything)

hehehheheheheheheh 😈😈😈😈😈 Magnus and Dreadwing being fucked so hard they can only cling to each and moan~ it's so embarrassing for them at first, but Optimus and Predaking are both SO into it, seeing their cute boyfriends make out is so hot! Ehehehehehe... After they're done they give Dreadwing and Magnus a break, and then they switch sides 😈😈😈😈

29 notes · View notes

final-milf-ratchet · 9 months ago

Note

More about that last ask bc imagine Dreadwing and Magnus holding hands (maybe even kissing 👀) while being railed by Optimus and Predaking

YES!!!!!!!!!!

THEM SLOPPILY KISSING WHILE THEY BOTH GET RAILED!!!!!!!!;!

30 notes · View notes

robot-rarepairs-dotcom · 3 months ago

Note

DREADWING AND OPTIMUS RAGHHHHH IM TWEAKINGOUT RAGAHHHH hi i love dreadop

I agree!!!!! I love them so much!!!! Learning to draw robots kissing for them!!!!

#transformers #transformers rarepairs #rarepairs #rarepair ask #optimus prime #dreadwing #dreadop

9 notes · View notes

robot-rarepairs-dotcom · 9 months ago

Note

dreadwing/optimus... hi i just need my blorbo defecting over to the autobots and slowly getting attached to the leader as he sets himself into the team and learns how a group is meant to function together healthily unlike what hes used to with megs. dreadwing being oblivious as hell to any feelings he and op are having while op has to keep his face shield on to hide his blushing whenever dreads shows how loyal and truly caring he is

and then they kiss

writing this at 4am

Aw that’s so cute \*A*/

Dreadwing gets a hand to hold

Lips to kiss

I love them. Optimus really wants him to switch sides so bad so I bet Optimus would be super obvious but Dreadwing is just in so much denial

#transformers #transformers rarepairs #rarepairs #rarepair ask #dreadop #dreadwing #optimus prime

15 notes · View notes

robot-rarepairs-dotcom · 10 months ago

Note

Ooh P.S. I love my poor Cybertronian Ingo Montoya Dreadwing and I almost cry thinking about him joining the Autobots and pining over Optimus 💔

Aww that’s so cute, imagine he survives and when he’s dumped for scrap Optimus finds and saves him and he feels like he owes his life to the Autobots now and starts to learn how Optimus is and falls in love with that personality

#transformers #transformers rarepairs #rarepairs #rarepair ask #dreadwing #optimus prime #dreadop

9 notes · View notes

robot-rarepairs-dotcom · 8 months ago

Note

dreadwing/optimus for the ship bingo??

I like it! Imo I’m not a tfp Optimus liker. Like at all. Sorry but I don’t mind his ships and anything else! And Dreadwing deserved so much better I literally love him more than life itself

#transformers #transformers rarepairs #rarepairs #rarepair ask #ship bingo #dreadwing #optimus prime #dreadop

4 notes · View notes

libermachinae · 4 years ago

Link

Tags: Teen and Up Audiences, Major Character Death, M/M, Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime, Dreadwing/Optimus Prime, Optimus Prime, Dreadwing (Transformers), Skyquake (Transformers), Post-Predacons Rising (Prime Movie), Canonical Character Death, dead characters meeting in the afterlife, Mutual Pining, Enemies to Lovers, speed version, First Kiss, DreadOP Day Word Count: 3148 Summary: Deep in the Well, Optimus runs into a familiar face. Twice over, in fact. Notes: DreadOP Day, you say? 👀 No way I wasn’t going to put something together for this.

---

Heat.

Like the friction experienced by a meteor hurtling down, destined to expire, Optimus flew into the light at the center of his world and felt welcome.

His Autobots had stood under many foreign stars and held under lights curious, interrogative, and revealing, but he knew none would ever hold such presence or penetrate so deeply as the one they all emerged from. It sunk into the seams between plating, prying and leveraging until the gaps yawned and with a click, the excess plating fell away.

And he was a protoform again: delicate mesh and wires and struts exposed to the impossible light. It was in him, sinking between the atoms of his body until they shivered and shook, dancing away from each other. Metal melted, edges dulling and structures collapsing, and drop by drop Optimus felt it all fall away, one billion beads sprinkling away like shards of glass in a night sky.

There was no pain. Not here. Optimus stepped out of his body while it was still partially solid and let all of it fall away, into an abyss he could not see against the light.

And from there he had no way to tell which direction was which, or if he was still moving. All he knew was light, to such an extent that it took him another moment to realize he was seeing it, that even without a body the world around him persisted. He pressed in on himself, felt it out. He considered his name. Time passed, as he explored the boundless confines of his new existence, and he considered for a time whether he might try to close his eyes, or let the light pull him micron by micron into eternity.

As it turned out, he did not need to worry so much about his choice. Time finished passing (which, if he recalled correctly, was not in the nature of the thing, and yet) and he saw a point, what he could only describe as a single unit of contrast against the light. Its darkness grounded him, reminding him who he was and where he had come from (though not for how long he had been away) and he endeavored to draw himself to it by mechanisms it did not occur to him to consider closely.

It was a point, then a spot, then a dot. It developed variation in its tone, darker splotches on the bottom that developed into shadows, its squirming edges sharpening into corners. It took on dimensions, stretched, vertical expanding while the horizontal stayed squashed. Lighter grey tones highlighted the darker: reflections, though he could not tell their source, when every particle between here and there blasted the same white light.

Still, somehow, shadows slid and clipped together, and forming the façade of a simple Cybertronian house. Minimal decorations outside and the windows were closed, but still it had the appearance of a place lived in: a couple of oil cans sat on the front porch, behind two steps that led down to empty, and in one of the upper windows he thought he saw the shine of aged crystal growths. There was also noise coming from inside, voices too dulled to understand.

Directly in front of the building now, he could not see either side and so did not know how far back it extended. He had the impression, though, it was a comfortable size. Only as big as the space its occupants needed, no room for unwanted excess.

His momentum carried him the rest of the way, until he could place his pede on the first step and walk up to the door on his own. He did not need to send a ping, which was a lucky thing, since his comm suite had fallen away with the rest of his processor. The door slid open for him, and he stepped inside.

The gray shading of the exterior persisted inside, clear shadows that built around him the image of a home almost like what one would have found on Cybertron before the war. The metal walls were painted with a matte finish, the seams between them cut with delicate patterns of straight lines and right angles. Like the door, the entry way was large enough to accommodate him twice over, a feature of lower caste residences, but he could feel the hum of complicated circuitry throughout the foundation, optimization the caliber of which only the upper caste could have afforded.

“Optimus!” He startled at the noise. “Stop staring at my walls and come in.”

He stepped walked down the main hallway and turned at the first open door. Within was a sitting room, a couch on one end with a table and chairs closer. Two identical figures sat there, a cube of energon in front of each of them with a third before an empty chair.

“Well?” Dreadwing asked. Skyquake said nothing but stared at the intruder.

“Am I welcome?” He did not know what this place was or what it meant for him to have found himself here, but it clearly belonged to Dreadwing and Skyquake both. He had no wish to insert himself somewhere he did not belong.

“My brother has been waiting for you,” Skyquake said. “It seems that somehow, in the months I missed, you managed to gain his respect.”

Optimus glanced at Dreadwing.

“I would be honored if that were so,” he said.

Dreadwing’s lips twitched and his helm tilted to the empty chair. So much of the way they had spoken to each other in life had been based on the unspoken, it was no surprise it would continue here, where they were stripped to their purest elements.

Optimus stepped inside and took the seat. Sitting here, he faced the windows, but even through the cracks in the shade none of that overwhelming light came through. In here, it was peaceful, comfortable, like it had been designed with the intention that they might stay here for some time.

Dreadwing raised his cube to his mouth.

“How did it happen?” he asked around the rim.

“I sacrificed myself,” Optimus said. “The Allspark was at risk, so I drew it into my own frame and returned it to its rightful place.”

“Then the Well is back online?” Skyquake asked.

“Yes. Cybertron will awaken to new life once more.” He smiled, imagining new beings waking up, drawing themselves to the surface of a world that was theirs to build upon. He wished he could have been there to see it, but with his Autobots to guide them, he knew the next generation would be well looked after.

“And the war?” Dreadwing asked.

“Megatron followed your path, actually,” Optimus said, turning to his former assassin. “He renounced the cause and turned his back on his army. He will not be back.”

But Dreadwing’s lips curled down, and he set the energon back on the table with force. It seemed he had drunk none.

“Do not compare me to Megatron,” Dreadwing said. “He made a mockery of a cause we dedicated our lives to fighting for. I betrayed the Decepticons because to continue supporting them would have gone against my beliefs. If he simply left, then the Decepticons remain a flawed entity, and there is no honor in abandoning something one has the power to change.”

Optimus listened and nodded along.

“I will refrain, if that is what you prefer,” he said. “But if the Decepticons are as far gone as you say, are you sure it is still possible for anyone to change them from within?”

“Megatron could,” Skyquake said. “If any force in the universe were powerful enough, it would be him.”

And Optimus found he could not argue with that, so he nodded and attempted to take a sip of the energon he had been given. It tasted like energon, and he felt the impression of it moving down his intake, but the cube itself did not seem to drain. No matter how long he drank, it seemed to stay at the same level.

So curious he was about the phenomenon that he did not realize how long his silence had passed before he heard snickering. He lowered the cube and looked around: both twins were laughing at him.

“This place operates on its own rules,” Dreadwing explained. “Too many to bother explaining in detail. You will find discrepancies and you will adapt, and eventually it will become as natural as life once was.”

“So, this is death?” Optimus confirmed.

Dreadwing tilted his helm, first to one side, then the other.

“Something like it,” he said. “You will find the specifics don’t matter so much. We are here.”

“And occasionally we are not,” Skyquake said, rising from his seat. His cube, also full, remained on the table.

“You’re leaving?” Optimus asked.

“Stepping out,” Skyquake corrected. “My brother has been looking forward to your arrival.” He grinned, and Optimus turned to catch Dreadwing’s reaction. Too late: his expression had already shifted back to annoyed-neutral.

“I suppose so,” Optimus said. “Your revenge has been achieved, after all. though unfortunately not by your hand.” It was easier than he might have expected to make light of his own demise, or the effort both these mechs had expended to hasten him toward it. Perhaps such things dimply did not matter so much, here on the other side of the Well.

“You think my mission was for revenge?” Dreadwing asked, leaning forward on the table. “For what? Skyquake’s death was just another in a long line of our being separated by Cybertronians who thought themselves worthy of making such decisions. It was a question of honor, Optimus: Skyquake was denied an honorable death, and as his kin it was my responsibility to secure that honor in his name.” He traced patterns on the table as he spoke, like he was drawing the concept of honor and the way it could be passed around like energon siphoned between lines.

“In my estimation, you did,” he said. He glanced at Skyquake. “If you are unsatisfied, though, I would be willing to duel again.”

“Perhaps,” Skyquake said. “If Dreadwing decides you are worthy enough to stay.” He gave them a short bow, then ducked away, disappearing into the same hall Optimus had entered from. He heard a door activate elsewhere and was not sure whether it was to the exterior of the house. It didn’t seem there was anywhere to go out there, but then, he still had a great deal to learn about this place.

He turned back to his remaining host.

“He seemed to imply that I’m being tested,” he pointed out.

“Somewhat,” Dreadwing said, leaning back in his chair. Optimus didn’t think he had ever seen the Decepticon lieutenant comfortable before.

“What is your determination so far?” Optimus asked.

The corners of Dreadwing’s lips pulled up. A grin wasn’t the right work for it, nor a smirk; it was the attempt of a mech who had never tried to form a single cordial relationship in his life to look friendly.

“You are entirely too optimistic, Optimus,” he said. “Don’t you remember the last time we spoke?”

“You handed over the Omega Keys and offered us an opportunity to revive Cybertron under Autobot control,” Optimus said. He could never forget it: the memory often replayed in the last few moments before he fell into recharge.

“I also refused to join your cause or leave my own,” Dreadwing pointed out. “We were enemies for most of our lives, Optimus.”

“And now all those matters rest in our past,” Optimus said. He gestured to the window, though he had no idea which direction the living world lay in. “Cybertron lives again, headed toward a peace founded on the same ideals you fought for. We may not be able to witness it, but we can know that all of our actions, battles fought and sacrifices made, were building to this end.” He glanced to the hallway. “Perhaps it is bold of me to assume, but I feel it worthwhile to ask: have you found happiness?”

He looked back. Dreadwing was watching him, that forced smile eased into something more natural for his handsome face.

“There is no simple way to answer such a question,” he said.

“We have time,” Optimus pointed out. He stood from his chair, taking a moment to look around the room. It was a utilitarian space, but there were a few decorations that betrayed some sentimentality on the part of its owners: image displays on the walls, a mantle with a collection of = stones from other worlds, and a tin of wax that had been left out all contributed to a personal feeling that allowed Optimus to relax a bit more.

For Dreadwing and Skyquake, this place was home, and they had welcomed him into it. Whatever hostility might remain between them, nothing could overshadow that fact.

He made his way to the couch, its back against the windows, and sat down. It was comfortable, though he had no way to know whether that was because of the strange magic of this place, the make of the furniture itself, or the fact that he no longer had a body in which to feel discomfort. Dreadwing remained at the table, and he watched Optimus as he settled, helm rested on one hand.

“I wished to live to see Cybertron’s revival,” Dreadwing said. “I wished to watch if from the air once more, the way its inhabitants moved as if in a perpetual dance.” His hand moved across the surface of the table, imitating traffic. “I was assigned to energon drilling, and occasionally tasked with passing rapid communication between facilities. It was during my flights I started to get a sense of how truly large Cybertron is, and how much was being denied to me and others of my caste.”

“I had a similar experience,” Optimus said. “While working in the archives, I would receive data that indicated a much wider world than I had experienced myself. Until Alpha Trion’s intervention I had no means to reach beyond.”

“So, you understand what a gift it is to behold Cybertron as it lives,” Dreadwing said. “Not everyone does. But I digress, I did not live to witness it, and so in that way I do not know if I can call what I have here happiness. How can I claim a peaceful afterlife if I did not first achieve that which I desired in life?”

It was a valid question. But by the way his wings relaxed down, and how he gazed at Optimus with a look like a familiar friend, it seemed Dreadwing already knew the answer.

“I have spent more consecutive days with Skyquake here than I ever did in life,” he said, ducking his optics. His voice was gentler suddenly, as though speaking too loudly would make his joy obvious and break the spell. “It is what I imagined security must feel like. We part ways, and I know he will always come back; neither of us will ever be forced to choose to leave the other. Even if we had lived to see Cybertron again, any number of things could have intervened to separate us. To exist without that fear is, I believe, what happiness might feel like.”

“Then I am happy for you, old friend,” Optimus said. He smiled and hoped Dreadwing recognized his sincerity.

There was a beat of contemplation, and then Dreadwing stood and approached, broadcasting his movements before he made them. Optimus was not sure the sofa would be wide enough for both of them, but when Dreadwing sat the space was perfect, just wide enough that their knees could have touched, though Optimus kept his own drawn in for now.

“And you?” Dreadwing asked.

“Hm?”

“What will it take for you to find your happiness here?” He was facing forward, but Optimus still got the sense he was being paid attention to.

He turned over the question for a moment, inspecting it, though not too closely. He trusted the Allspark would do him no harm, which meant he trusted Dreadwing and his questions, and wanted to give them as honest an answer as he could fathom.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s not something I’ve considered in a very long time.” This was a good start, though. Knowing that Dreadwing had made it here and found peace gave him hope. He had lived a long life and done so much; he was ready for a place where he could rest.

“If you leave here and wander a bit,” Dreadwing gestured behind them, toward the window, “you will find the Pious Pools, as they were before the channel was blown up and they were drained. Perhaps a walk will give you guidance?”

Optimus misunderstood him.

“Anywhere I could go with you would be a gift.”

That wasn’t a bad thing, though.

By the time Optimus realized Dreadwing had meant for him to go on his own, the latter was already watching him with a smile on his face like it had snuck on and was hiding from him. He leaned closer, hand up to trace a delicate claw over Optimus’ audial.

“If we had lived,” he said, “would you have walked with me then? There was a trail from the lower end of Staniz that led up into the foothills, a dented trail formed by the weight of all the mechs who walked it. A mile out, the city disappeared, and the wind would blow so strong it would threaten to knock you over and send you tumbling back the way you had come. Would you have preserved that path while the rest of Staniz was restored? Would you have walked it with me, allowed me to hold you against the strength of our planet?”

“Why would it not have been me holding you?” Optimus asked, and then what must have been lips, warm lips, were pressed to his own.

He shut off his optics, leaned in, chased Dreadwing when he started to pull away. It did not matter that they were without frames: they kissed, held each other, phantom plating slotting together. Dreadwing had a scent and Optimus locked onto it, archived it, saved it to what might have been the fabric of the Well itself. He trailed his fingers along a ghostly wing and felt a shiver run through Dreadwing, strong enough to break them apart and force their optics back online.

They stared at each other, panting. Optimus did not know his mouth was still open and he wouldn’t have cared regardless.

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted.

And Dreadwing smiled, and there was no fleeing from it, no hiding. He smiled at Optimus, and happiness no longer seemed like such an unknowable thing.

“The wonders of life yet to be lived,” he murmured. And then he kissed Optimus again.

#maccadam #transformers #tfp #dreadop #optimus prime #dreadwing #my writing #oneshot #wanna share it with you #im gonna sleeb now

36 notes · View notes