#matrix protocol

[arenaconspiracy]

hey, are there many [matrix] protocol users around? i've been thinking of finally dabbling & getting familiar with a client and registering an account, but haven't had the energy and haven't taken much time to research clients & home/nameservers that i like; does anyone have any good recommendations?

[notalakelurk]

Home Server

Tumblr, I'm thinking about running a home server for cool stuffs, but I'm not entirely sure what I'm gonna put on it. So far I've got:

Nginx setup

A Matrix home-server

Plans for an arcade-style high-score board for my Tower of Hanoi clone (https://notalakelurk.github.io/tower-of-hanoi/)

and, that's about it.

I might make some more simple web-games with scoreboards, but I'm not yet sure what I might recreate. Maybe I could do something with Langton's ant / Turmites or Conway's Game of Life with configurable inputs? Please tell me if anyone has any ideas whatsoever of what I might host.

(For context, I'll be running this on an old Gateway sx2110g with an AMD E1-1200 CPU. I plan to switch over to a Raspberry Pi after I complete my next semester of college, as I'll be getting one as part of one of my courses. I'm extremely new to self-hosting/home-servers, so any advice would be much appreciated!) =|:3=;

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Continuation of my other post here, the autobots have come close to figuring out that Optimus is the sire but Optimus is way too moral to spark up an subordinate so they don’t look into it more

Skywarp stole the evidence, Ratchet doesn’t notice cause he and Optimus are too busy with the baby for any fun private parties

[that-sure-is-a-person]

Sooo we all agree someone’s gonna get eaten by the computer system right?

[witchofthesouls]

Personal headcanon that Primes have a preference for odd or peculiar mates. They don't give a shit if their partner is a different species, some even consider it a bonus. Hybrids are most likely to happen since the Matrix of Leadership is all about Sparklings no matter the flavor.

Small human not afraid to object a Prime's decision despite the vast difference in power? Interest intensifies.

That's the true power of the Matrix. It has peculiar and varied tastes in mates, especially since it can compute the probability of viable offspring.

If it comes across something real interesting in genetics, powers, or feelings via its current bearer, then there's a high chance of pitter-pattering tiny feet in the near future.

[patchoulii-2hu-144p]

it all went downhill the moment they abandoned their core audience and decided to become a cancerous tumor of a chat service that locks huge parts of the internet behind a corporate wall.

If you’re using Skype you should dump it and get Discord instead!

Pros:

Cleaner, easier to navigate interface

Free servers for more permanent group chat things (way easier to hop in and out of chats)

You can actually have different nicknames on each server if you want

Is actually well built and doesn’t make your computer yearn for death

Stuff coming down the pipeline soon according to devs:

Video chat

Linux client

Cons:

All your friends aren’t on it

But you can change that

Download it. It’s great and it’s only getting better. It’s aimed at gamers but it has nearly all the functionality of Skype and then some.

[filiazpink]

🩷"OH PRIMUS,,,"🩷

orion pax x femme + superior! reader x d-16 warnings: suggestive language (like- once but still), darkwing being darkwing, i’m a sucker for cheesy stuff, really minor transformers one spoilers (?)

summary: orion finds himself completely enamored with one of his superiors and d-16 doesn’t really mind it, until one day, you show up at the mines.

a/n: my very first tumblr fic!! i might post this on my AO3 account as well! hope this reached your expectations considering more than 200 people voted for this prompt on my poll  =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ill get to some of the other prompts shortly after, i just wanted to know which one would be best to start with (and to properly introduce my writing to tumblr teehee) !! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated !! ENJOY!! 💞💞💞

word count: 1139

proofread: minimal (lemme know if there's any errors!!)

read part 2 here: 💞💞

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

orion simply couldn't stop thinking about you.

your shiny and colorful armor, your beautiful optics, your height and strength. that voice. the power and authority you had over him. that power rivaled sentinel prime’s in his eyes. everything.

you were simply breathtaking. 

…

“earth to orionnnn, come on, rust bucket!!” pink servos waving at him frantically snapped the red and blue mech out of his trance. focusing his glance, orion watched as elita-1 gave him one of the scariest faces he’s seen yet, followed by d-16 behind her with his arms crossed, looking at his friend with a disappointed expression.

“what’s wrong with you?! you broke protocol, AGAIN!” elita pulled the miner to his feet, groaning in annoyance. orion’s dumb dopey smile quickly turned into a shocked frown and he was about to ask what he did now, but thankfully, his friend answered for him.

“orion, buddy, i know,,, i know you just wanted to save jazz from that explosion but you almost got killed doing that, man.” d-16 looked to the side, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

“you can’t keep doing this, pax. ONE more stunt like this and I’LL be the one to get-”

“what happened here??” elita snapped her head towards the newcomer’s voice, expecting maybe another miner, but her angry scowl quickly faded away once she saw who it was.

it was elita’s superior. 

it was you. 

oh primus, beautiful, amazing, spectacular you. orion felt a rush of warmth cover his face as you walked in along with,,,

oh- with darkwing. of course he was there with you.

STILL- you just showed up with no prompting, and two days in advance no less?? clearly, this was important.

orion fixed his posture and tried to dust off any grime he had on him. d-16 chuckled quietly at his best friend’s excitement, before turning his attention to you.

“(y-y/n)! i thought you were coming to check on our sector in t-two days! i’m so sorry you have to see my team like this i swear it was an accident-” the poor pink bot stammered, much to darkwing’s amusement and to your confusion.

“what accident? the cave collapsing? that’s normal, elita-1. don’t worry about it. you’re telling me it was a complete accident so i will take your word for it.” hearing those words coming from you made elita feel like she was just told that sentinel finally found the matrix of leadership.

“oh, thank you, thank you,,,” orion and d-16 watched as elita continuously thanked her superior, chuckling. 

“well, that means we don’t get our butts kicked too, thank primus (y/n) was here.” the red and blue miner said, walking away from the scene with his pal.

“yea and now we can just finish this shift and relax-”

“d-16?” the two stopped in their tracks, slowly turning around in an almost comical way to face the much taller femme. 

orion’s servos trembled. he felt embarrassed, he was over here making a fool of himself with how obvious his crush on you was. literally everyone who steps foot in the mines knew about it, aside from, clearly, you. heck, even darkwing seemed to know, considering that despite his optics not being visible, he clearly was glaring at the cog-less bot whenever he tried speaking to you during past visits.

or maybe it was just his usual routine of hating cogless bots.

d-16, however, gulped and let out the tiniest of “yes?”. ohhh boy, what now?? did you assume that the cave collapsing was his doing?? did darkwing tell you that-

“you’re at the top of your ranks here, correct?” his train of thought was interrupted by your soft voice, watching as you knelt down to his height, placing a hand on his shoulder, which shocked him a bit. orion stared at the polished hand on his best friend’s rusted shoulder with envy, his optics narrowing just a smidge.

“i already spoke to elita about this, but i also want you to hear it. i’ve heard some great things about you, and how you excel amongst your ranks. so i just wanted you to hear this.” d-16 felt frozen.

‘what is this,,, feeling? my face is burning,,’ oh indeed it was. his face flushed in a deep blue as he anxiously waited for your next words. just your soothing voice got him like this and he simply couldn’t understand why.

“,,, i need you.”

,,,

WHAT???

the first to react was darkwing, who let out a very outraged grunt of confusion, as if you just cheated on him with a MINER of all bots in his face, followed by elita, the other miners and orion gasping, everyone turning their heads towards the two.

“,,,w-what?” the gray miner’s voice box barely even processed his astonished question. he felt as if his circuits were frying up by how hot he felt. 

orion’s expression showed bewilderment and a hint of betrayal. this,,, wasn’t fair?? well- he knew it wasn’t d-16 who said that to you, but he still couldn’t help but feel jealous.

he wished it could have been him.

but then finally, you realized what you just said and removed your hand from the shorter bot’s shoulder, standing up straight and bumping into darkwing’s chest armor. “oh- p-please excuse me. i- uh, i chose my words wrong.” 

the onlookers decided to stop eavesdropping, realizing it was a simple mistake on your part. that made orion sigh in relief, which didn’t go unnoticed by d-16. but his attention was quickly brought back to you.

“my apologies, i- i would never say such things- not during work hours, i’m sorry- what i meant to say, i need you- as in i need you to help keep up the good work to motivate the other miners to do the same. it helps your ranks as it helps mine if we all put our parts to make a difference. s-so, yea.” you looked around, avoiding eye contact, a small blush remaining on your face. both miners nearly swooned at such a cute expression on your face.

“i just needed to do an early check up according to sentinel, that’s all. thought i’d try and give some pep talk and you can see i have to work on that,,” you giggled before clearing your throat and staring down at the mesmerized bots.

,,,

“goodbye.” and with that being said, you quickly marched back to the main exit with a very, VERY jealous darkwing in tow. 

orion turned his gaze to his best friend, who watched you depart with a dreamy look on his face. the red and blue bot sighed and gently shook his shoulder.

“d?,,,” oh he knew. 

he recognized that stare. the same stare he gave when he saw anything megatronus prime related, that same glimmer in his optics. it was that same spark that orion had when he first saw you.

oh primus.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

🩷send me a burger !! : ko-fi💗 🩷visit my other socials !! : socials list💗 🩷writing requests rules !! : info list💗

[serpenlupus]

I want Sentinel to suffer, and then to die in darkness.

I've been thinking about this line for a while now,

"No, I want to kill him! I want to put Sentinel in chains and march him through the mines so everyone can see him for the false Prime that he is! I want him to suffer, and then to die in darkness."

I find this sentence so revealing about the general Miner's state of mind.

Because, make no mistake, the movie is telling us in no uncertain terms, that the Miners are expected to die doing their job. And also, that they're punished if they don't accept this. Because the system views them as expendable, and tries its best to convince them as well.

The scene of the cave in shows this perfectly; protocol demands that a trapped miner be left behind, even if that means their death. Elita says it outright when Orion comunicates that Jazz is stuck: "Do not break protocol, EVACUATE" a.k.a, leave him. And maybe it's becase the only ones near Jazz at that moment were Dee and Orion, but the thing is, none of the other miners show any attempt to go in and help them. They remain still even when they see them near the exit while Elita does everything in her power to keep it open, to the point that it's D-16 the one that has to tackle her away from it when they're going out (also D-16 punching the walls of rock out of the way? Danm son).

The narrative is showing us that stopping to help is the exception, not the rule, and we can presume that if Jazz had been accompanied by different bots, he would have died. It took two of them to barely get him out of there. And man, you cannot tell me that Orion Pax never had to come to terms with the fact that if the one trapped in one of those tunnels was either him or Dee, one would have to choose between staying behind to save the other, possibly dying in the attemp, or leave their friend behind to save himself.

I want Sentinel to suffer, and then to die in darkness." - D-16.

We know that Orion could never live with this knowledge and do nothing about it. Because if he was in that scenario, he could not leave Dee, nor could he accept to be the cause of his end. So it gives additional meaning to his actions on the movie.

Because, sure, the movie presents Orion Pax as sort of bull headed and self centered (D-16 certainly calls those out as flaws), but his motives may not be so selfish as we're led to believe at first glance. He wants to find the Matrix of Leadership, not because he will be hailed as a hero if he does so, but because

"We will have to stop mining for energon" (We will stop having to die to find energon).

"We are meant for more than this" ( We are meant for more than to die in the mines).

"Don't you want to choose your own path, be able to do whatever we want?" (I don't want us to die)

It's always a "we". Because, after all, he doesn't want to see Dee die in the mines (or any of his friends, I dare say). This desperate desire to save D-16, and not just himself, is what puts the plot into motion. And he tries to save him by attempting to find the Matrix, but Orion also looks for ways to bring small joys to D-16 in the day to day, like bringing him the sticker, or participating in the race. Of course you could argue that he brought Dee to the race despite his protests because he wanted someone that he knew would watch out for him, I won't deny that, BUT, counterargument:

Look at his smile. This dude is having the time of his life participating in a race with his boyfriend and you can take that truth from my dead cold hands.

What I mean to say with all this, is that the movie tries to tell us in subtle ways that while both are trying to save the other, they're funtamentally different. D-16 is saving Orion from more inmediate problems, like hiding him from the guards, looking out for him in the mines and the race, etc. He has accepted the place they have in that society and he is resigned to it, because he thinks there's no other option. Meanwhile Orion is looking to save D-16 in a long term sort of way, by changing the Status Quo, because he refuses to accept that there are no other options.

They both cared so much for the other that they kept trying to keep the other safe in the only way they could fathom.

AND THEN THIS HAPPENS

This fucking movie

[hx4x4enthusiast]

Papa Prime Headcanons 2

After a tough mission or when Bumblebee gets backlashes from particular disturbing events of the war, Optimus will tell him old stories. And he extend his ERM field to further comfort Bee and only leaves once Bee is in full power down. That is also one of the few moments that Optimus fully relaxes and let's his emotions out.

Whenever Arcee starts to pull back from everyone and her past regrets come back Optimus spaars with her or just silently drives next to her on patrol. He just let's her vent without giving advice if she doesn't ask for it.

After Smokescreens arrival he and Optimus had a long talk about Alpha Trion and Cybertron in its war days. At the end Smokescreen broke down and Optimus hugged him and wrapped him up in his ERM field until he calmed down again.

Knockout and Optimus once got trapped in a mine collaps due to stray blaster fire. Instead of facing of against each other, Optimus witnessed Knockout curled to a ball in a corner hyperventilating. He slowly got closer and gently extended his ERM field to calm Knockout down. He talked to him in hushed tones until they where freed. Knockout never forgot that day and after he joined the autobots he thanked Optimus, who just regarded him with the same gentle smile he held all those years ago on that same day.

Optimus has in his cabin a photo of the entire team that miko took, raf edited and jack printed out to robot size. It is his most treasured possession and his good luck charm. So whenever he feels unsure or doubt he touches his chassis to remind himself who he is fighting for. The team doesn't know that and think he touches his chassis because the matrix lies there.

June once witnessed Optimus reprimanding the children for putting themselves in danger yet again. As she leaned back she commented more to herself. "He is such a dad." To which Ratchet answered. "Oh you have no idea". The entire team except for the children and Optimus himself realized that, Optimus sees the children as his own sparklings. And noone is gonna mentioned it. Mostly because there is an ongoing betting pool for when Optimus is going to realize that his sire protocols are running.

~Hi apparently you all liked the first part I made of this so here is another one. Do let me know if you want more of this, Scenarios, Headcanons with the kids, the bots both just TFP or other contuienies.~

[quixotical-lymbo]

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 !!

[lunaforyou]

HI

Maybe you seen me in @transingthoseformers asks and wondered "Wow, what the fuck is wrong with this guy?"

Many years of catholic trauma

ANYWAYS, YES, I'M MAKING AN AU

So like, to understand this AU you need to understand three things

1) My genuine belief that tf1 Optimus will be tied or connected somehow in the creation of new sparklings

2) The fact that merging with the Matrix is considered "Interfacing" (IDW Optimus put it this way, not me)

3) My interpretation that the Matrix and the bearer are constantly spark merging.

I lied it's 4) My obsession with the Virgin Mary, she should have been at the cluuuub

So, the AU starts by Optimus somehow in the surface, his entire frame has been aching for a while but he is still needed to fight the Decepticons and the Quintessons.

Maybe a fight goes wrong, but it sends him panicking because his HUD just fucking told him "Emergence protocols initiated" and it's a little earlier because of the fight but that's not an impediment, the little one wants out and he wants out now

So you might want to guess, where does our dear Prime go to give birth?

.

.

.

.

That's right! The cave of the Primes! You get nothing for guessing correctly <3

Plot twist; Optimus didn't have a forge, another thing Sentinel took from the miners. The Matrix gave it back when restoring his frame, after all, it needed it for restoring the rest of the Primes. So yeah he freaks out a lot a lot

And yes! He is going through this TWELVE more times

The first one is Prima naturally, the little one gives Megatron a run for his money in "things that nearly killed Optimus multiple times" and almost gets stuck in the birth canal once or twice (Optimus doesn't want to think what would have happened to them both if his coding hadn't kicked in at the right moment) and Optimus can't see the little one without getting his carrier coding out of hand and deciding right then and there that he needed to find a sire for their sake. Also Optimus absolutely loves the little bastard like he hung the moons and the stars

And all the time, he felt the presence of other mechs in the cave with him. Someone definitely helped him stay upright, and he could squeeze his hand around a much much larger one when the contractions hit.

Right so he goes back to base, and everyone pretty much noticed how white and gold the sparkling is. Everyone assumes that somehow D-16 is the sire, keeping on brand with the platinated colors, and, well, Optimus doesn't correct them. Besides, it was just one sparkling, what harm could it do if a few rumors ran around here and there?

Ohhhh boy, not a week later, he discovers that maybe it won't be just one sparkling.

Also, I'm naming this au Primes Reborn, and you can't stop me

[ddaroll]

Why do some ppl say like Dee was only one who was truly suffering? Omg i didnt know Orion was just bored and decided to break the protocol and find the matrix

[starscream-is-my-wife]

One of my headcannons is that Primes can't get pregnant because their chests have their sparks, T-cog, and the matrix, there's like, no room for a sparkling. The matrix is like an IUD lmao

so instead their sire protocols are just really strong since their carrier one can't activate, RIP Ratchet though that sparklings gonna be huge

[imagine-darksiders]

Transformers Prime: Optimus X Reader. Chapter 2.

The Letdown.

Part 1

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family, Optimus is a big, overprotective worry-wort with a soft spot for humans, Reader has more issues than Vogue.

Let me know if you'd be interested in a part 3 :]

------------------

Optimus has always been an honest mech. Even before he was bestowed with the Matrix of Leadership, Orion-wet-behind-the-audials-Pax was about as good at carrying a lie as Miko is at keeping herself out of trouble.

Not much changed after Orion became a Prime.

Deception never came easily to him. Frank and truthful in all he does, there are times when even the principled leader of the Autobots has to concede that sometimes, deceit is a regrettable, but unavoidable necessity.

That doesn’t mean he’s grown better at it though.

Lying, in any capacity, makes the stoic and unflinching mech feel as if his glossa has been dipped in a coat of lead. To his own audial receptors, the insubstantial white-lie he’d coaxed you with sounded clumsy, even stilted – just two more things unbefitting of a Prime.

The Matrix had bucked inside his chassis when he fabricated the story that convinced you to accept his assistance. It had, however, quickly settled down after Optimus reminded himself that this was a lie borne from the best of intentions.

He may be the most fastidious in following his own self-set rule to remain incognito on Earth, but even a stickler like him could hardly ignore a human in need.

And you were in need, he reflects as he tentatively adjusts his rear-view mirror, angling it towards your face as surreptitiously as he can.

The memory of your desolate, beaten expression is bruised right into the forefront of his processor, where it’s sure to remain for some time to come. Bathed in the dim glow of his headlights, you’d stared up at his grill with the same frightened trepidity of a doe peering down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. You’d approached his open door with such caution, your tiny yet vital pulse rabbiting inside the veins and vessels that pump precious blood through your fragile, little body.

You were afraid of him, and it would be remiss of the great Prime to deny that the realisation had plucked at a tender node running through his spark-chamber.

It felt like a rejection.

‘Really, Optimus?’ He can almost hear Arcee’s cool, bemused ribbing now. ‘One human doesn’t like you, and suddenly your self-esteem takes a hit?’

She’d be right to tease him, of course. A Prime ought to be above such concerns.

Yet still…

A human had needed help, and Optimus’s very presence – once described as a comfort by Jack when the boy thought he couldn’t hear – was enough to almost instil a fear in you so profound, you’d have sooner braved the cold emptiness of a desert and your own exhaustion than accept his aid.

Optimus eases his engine to a constant, steady hum as he drives down Highway 49, his weary passenger secured inside his alt mode. Distantly, he notes how some of his custodial protocols have settled back to lay dormant amongst his codes once again, the same protocols that rear their heads like spitting cobras whenever he sees one of the children in danger.

But for now, there is no danger, and so, contented, the Prime allows himself to cruise at a lax pace towards the distant, twinkling lights appearing on the dark horizon.

Jasper.

You mentioned that your journey ends at the dairy pastures out towards the East of town, where well-watered fields of grass are nestled beneath the shadows cast by enormous, twisting rock spires.

But why are you heading there in the first place?

The silence inside his cab starts to grow stifling. And although the quiet doesn’t bother him in the least, Optimus is conscious of your bouncing leg, and the small, quivering fingers kneading anxiously around the straps of the bag you’ve yet to remove.

It doesn’t look heavy… The note you left on the window of your truck claimed that the vehicle is all you have, and he has no doubt that what little else you might call yours is tucked safely within the leather rucksack that’s currently pinned between your spine and Optimus’s seat.

It may not look heavy, but neither does it look particularly comfortable.

Beneath the shell of armour and metal parts concealing his face, Optimus feels his brow plates twitch in their attempt to furrow gently towards one another.

“Perhaps you’d-“ he starts, only to hurriedly cut the feedback to his voice box when you promptly go rigid against his seat, your drooping, crimson-tinted eyes flying open to roll around his cabin like a spooked equine mammal. “My apologies,” he amends contritely, letting his voice drop to such an unobtrusive pitch, it almost mingles with the purr of his engine, “I only meant to tell you, there is ample room in the footwell for your belongings…”

Leaving an indicative silence in his wake, Optimus regards you curiously as you tighten your grip on the tattered, leather straps slung over your shoulders, though your gaze does flick down to survey the space around your shoes.

You may have traded your name for his, but it’s clear you’re still wound up tighter than a coiled spring.

“Oh,” you eventually murmur, and he’s pleased to see your white-knuckle grasp go slack.

As you begin to slowly slide the bag from your shoulders, every movement stiff and uncertain, Optimus nonetheless lets out an approving hum and returns his senses to the road ahead, though his focus remains almost entirely on the soft speck of warmth shifting around in his passenger seat.

Not for the first time, Optimus is struck by how much larger cybertronians are than humans. Even when you lean forwards and lower your rucksack down towards his footwell, his sensors barely register your presence.

At least your weight is more substantial than Rafael’s, he muses.

Once, during a rare but pleasant occurrence in which he was the only bot available to shuttle their tiniest member from school to the Base, Optimus had tried – and failed – to refrain from checking that the boy was still safely strapped in his passenger seat every ten nanoclicks.

Giving his engine a rev to shake himself from the memory, Optimus speaks again, mindful to keep his volume low this time. “May I ask you something, Y/n?”

He watches as you finally relinquish your hold on the bag, letting it drop with the utmost care into the space by your feet. “Of course,” you say genially, turning less and less guarded as the warmth of his cab envelopes you, beckoning you towards a much-needed rest.

“What brings you to Jasper?”

Small talk is hardly Optimus’s forte, but the nature of your unfortunate circumstances had shifted something deep within his spark and left it murmuring unhappily behind his colossal chassis.

Oblivious to the Prime’s concern, you cast another doleful glance towards the driver’s side, leaning back until your shoulders just barely ghost the fabric of your seat. “Only business, I’m afraid,” you offer, vaguely, “Nothing exciting. What about you? Are you based out here?”

“I am,” your mysterious driver responds just as concisely before he swings the topic back around to you, much to your dismay, “But this… Terry-“ He says the name as if it’s entirely foreign to him, like a word in another language that he isn’t sure how to pronounce. “-Is he a friend of yours?”

Puffing out your cheeks, you raise a hand, pivoting it lazily from side to side. “Not exactly…” you eke out. After a moment mulling it over further, you let your hand flop down into your lap again with a sigh. “Actually, no, not at all. He’s barely an acquaintance. I’ve only spoken to him once over the phone when he called to offer me a job.”

Optimus is too slow to mute the heavy hum that rolls through him, reverberating across his cabin and up through your seat.

You must pick up on his apprehension because you quirk one corner of your lips and exhale through a humourless chuckle. “I know… Ironic, isn’t it? I didn’t want to hop in a stranger’s truck, but I’ll travel all the way to Nevada to work for a guy I’ve spoken to once.”

Inwardly, Optimus fights back a frown. Soon enough, his cab is once again filled by his rich, mellow tone, just a few iotas shy of admonishing. “I assume you must have had a good reason for coming here.”

At that, you bark out a slightly louder harrumph. “I have a reason,” you admit before dropping your voice and tugging your brows together until they pucker at the middle of your forehead, gazing solemnly out through the windscreen, “Still haven’t figured out if it’s a good one or not…”

Frowning at the distant lights of Jasper, you miss the way the semi’s rearview mirror twitches microscopically to bring you into centre-frame.

The Prime casts his hidden optics discreetly over your strained expression.

Jaw cinched tight… Hands curled rigidly over your knees. Your whole frame is hunched in on itself, shoulders lifting towards your ears as if you mean to hide between them…

He doesn’t need to scan your vitals to know that your amygdala has just kicked itself up a gear.

You’re scared. And this time, something tells him that he isn’t the cause.

“Perhaps,” he starts slowly, waiting for you to unclench your jaw in response to his voice, “I could offer a third-party perspective.”

Snorting quietly, you reply, “To help me work out if I’m doing the wrong thing?”

“It may ease your troubles to share them,” he offers considerately, having to override the urge to send a soothing stroke through your EM field – or lack thereof.

Sometimes, Optimus finds himself stumped for how to connect with humans on the same level as he can Cybertronians. It’s through no fault of their own, nor his. It simply comes down to a difference in biology.

With the latter, he can so clearly convey a feeling or notion through the electrical impulses cast out by his matrix, and the spark housing it.

Oftentimes, he’ll have to brush his field against Ratchet’s when the agitated medic starts kicking out frustration and, so often, despair. He more frequently does the same to Bumblebee if ever the youngling grows despondent from Rafael’s absence. Arcee’s bouts of fury at the Decpticons, and Bulkhead’s ferocious protectiveness over Miko… Prime has felt it all, brought them into his field, and countered with a presence intended to calm and reassure without having to offer a single word.

But humans… They’re more difficult to soothe.

He has to go by tone and expression alone. The children are easier to read, but adults are a different story; masters at hiding their truest and most vulnerable thoughts behind facades they’ve had years to perfect.

How often has he caught himself trying to wrap Jack, Miko and Raf up inside his solicitous EM field before he remembers they’re human children, not sparklings? They can’t feel his energies like a Cybertronian would.

But regardless, he hopes they know that despite maintaining a poised and collected exterior, Optimus has a spark that’s familiarised itself well with their own, precious heartbeats.

He’s pulled from his musings by your soft, sardonic laugh. “What’re you gonna charge me the going rate of a therapist?” you joke, giving the empty driver’s seat a wry smile.

“I would never dream of charging you for anything,” he insists at once, so sincere that you think he either missed the joke entirely or he’s trying to bulldoze through your defences simply by being nice.

“Good,” you hum, “Because I couldn’t afford a minute of time with a therapist, let alone a whole session. Spent the last of what I had on fuel just to get here.”

“If you require financial aid,” Optimus tells you resolutely, “I would be happy to provide it.”

There are responses you’d expect to hear, and then there are those that make you choke on your own spit.

Lurching upright in your seat, your brows shoot up towards your hairline and you whip your torso around to gawk at the invisible driver. “What!?” you all but blurt, throwing an arm out to steady yourself against the dashboard. “What the- What!?”

The vehicle around you seems to churr apologetically.

“Ah… forgive me,” Optimus hedges, sounding uncharacteristically contrite, “Have I offended you?”

Blinking in rapid succession, you flap your mouth open and closed wordlessly for a few seconds, reeling your heat back up from the bottom of your shoes. “Wh-I… No,” you stammer at last, shaking your head, “No, no. I’m not offended, I’m just..”

Cutting yourself off to huff out an incredulous laugh, you press a few fingers to your temple, rubbing at it tenderly. “Christ, you’re a hoot, Optimus.”

A quick search on the internet only serves to baffle Optimus further. And as he attempts to make the connection between himself and a nocturnal bird of prey, you drag a hand down your face and let out another disbelieving little chuckle.

“Scooping me up in the dead of night, and now you’re offering me money… People will talk.”

Flicking the information on Strigiformes from his HUD, Optimus politely returns his attention to you and asks, “Is it unusual to offer money to those in need?”

“Not if that they’re a charity,” you clarify, the smile on your face turning limp as you shoot his seat a glare that lacks any kind of heat, “I’m not a charity, Optimus. I’m just an idiot who can’t keep a job.”

The truck’s engine suddenly kicks out a guttural growl just as it’s driver firmly states, “You are far from an idiot, Y/n. And… my offer still stands.”

“An offer I’m afraid I’ll have to respectfully decline,” you counter, though the frown on your face is slowly being replaced by a tentative smile, “Look, I appreciate the offer. I do. But you’re already going above and beyond to help someone you don’t know. If you keep being so nice to me, I’ll start thinking you came from the sky!”

All of a sudden, the semi’s brakes dip, only a little, barely enough to jostle you from your seat, but enough that you hastily glance out the windscreen to see if he had to slow for an obstruction in the road.

In the background, Optimus’s speakers give a burst of static before he forces out, “I don’t… The sky?”

“Yeah,” you answer blithely, “You know, like an angel.”

A hush falls over the cab as Optimus processes your words. After a time, the only think of any substance he can come up with is a soft, considering, “Oh…”

The same quiet settles itself over your shoulders, weighing them down, and you start to wonder if you’ve inadvertently insulted your mysterious driver by rejecting his offer too harshly. Before you can open your mouth to try and salvage your standing with him however, he clears his throat and utters, “You flatter me.”

“Do I?” you ask, sinking back into the seat and turning to peer out of the window, glad he doesn’t sound affronted, “Sorry if I seem out of practice, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to in… in a while.”

Optimus goes silent again, leaving you to listen to the rumble of his semi’s tyres travelling over the tarmac for several, lonely moments until he speaks again.

“You’re lonely,” he deduces, so gently and so condolingly that something in your chest gives a squeeze. Then, once again, just as you take a breath to protest his assumption, he asks, “Y/n? Why did you leave your home to come here?”

“… Ah…” Sucking a breath through your teeth, you sit up, lifting your back off the comfortable seat, much to Optimus’s private dismay, “Well, that’s… that’s a long and boring story,” you try to laugh.

As if in response, the truck slows down a few notches until the needle hovers over the forty mark. “I’ll wager it isn’t boring at all,” he prompts, “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The tension in your brows starts to cause an ache, and you stuff your teeth into your bottom lip to distract yourself. “It really is a classic,” you chuckle, wholly intent on brushing his concern aside, “You’ve probably heard it a hundred times before. Straight from the runaway’s handbook.”

Softly, the strange but kind man chides you. “Y/n…”

A lump starts to form in your throat but you force another laugh through it, pulling your chin from your knuckles to aim a look over your shoulder, hoping that his cameras don’t pick up your quivering lip. “Wait… Are you actually a therapist?” you joke, “Is that your day job?”

“Please?”

With a single word, your mouth snaps shut.

Swallowing, you try to bristle defensively, wishing you weren’t so hatefully tired and vulnerable that a simple ‘please’ could knock down a wall of indifference. “Come on, Optimus,” you scoff weakly, “I’m not about to offload my baggage onto a stranger. And we both know you’re not really interested.”

Unheard by you, a strong puff of hot air blasts from the semi’s smokestacks.

“I am loathe to contradict you, youngling,” he retorts, briefly throwing you off with the unusual word, “But I am interested. If you are in some sort of trouble-?“

At once, your spine turns stiff and you cut him off with a scowl, snapping waspishly, “-Who says I’m in trouble?”

Somehow, when he falls silent this time, he manages to exude an air of mild objurgation, and you can’t help but feel like a teenager again, slinking home well after midnight to find your parents still up and waiting for your return.

The comparison humbles you, takes some of the wind out of your ruffled sails.

Optimus’s pointed silence sinks over the cab like a thick, cumbersome blanket, too itchy. You want to throw it off.

Sullen, you swivel yourself back to face the window and lean your forehead against the cool glass, frowning out at the silver-soaked desert drifting by. Your mysterious stranger’s semi drives so smoothly, you can’t even feel the bumps.

But you can feel Optimus’s eyes upon you… somehow, as though he’s just waiting for you to make the next move.

Shifting in your seat, you stubbornly ignore the awkward silence, but it isn’t long before that awkwardness evolves into a kernel of guilt that embeds itself under your ribcage.

Here’s a man who so far, has been nothing but cordial and helpful to you. Hell, even downright generous. All he’s asked of you in return is to hear your reason for being here.

And what did you do?

You threw his – likely genuine – interest back in his proverbial face.

But to tell him…-

‘-Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,’ you scold yourself, ‘You’re not that exciting. You could have been through far worse, after all.’

Resisting the impulse to groan aloud, you knock your forehead gently against the window, considering.

For his part, Optimus doesn’t press you, he doesn’t clear his throat or try to change the subject, he just… waits.

And finally, alongside a great heave of your chest and a woebegone sigh, his patience is rewarded.

“You ever feel… like…” Squinting, you work the sentence over in your mouth before pushing it past reluctant teeth, “Like you’re not living up to everyone’s expectations?”

If you had any idea who you’d just asked that question of, you might have realised what the sudden lurch of his engine means.

Chalking it up to the truck changing gears, you peel yourself away from the window and stare down at your lap, fingers absently fiddling with one another. “It’s like… Okay, so, you know how people around you always say, ‘just try your best, that’s all you can do?”

When it becomes clear that you’re actually poised, expecting an answer, Optimus ventures a careful, “I have heard that many a time, yes.”

“And you want to try your best for them, right? You want to be a better person?”

“Of course,” he says far more easily, only to hesitate when you go still and your face crumples.

“But… you don’t want it badly enough...” you eke out slowly.

“…I’m sorry?”

“You don’t want it badly enough to actually put any effort into being that person, you know?”

This time, Optimus doesn’t offer a response.

You almost want to smile. Of course he doesn’t know. Look at him. Picking up a random stranger in the night to drive you where you need to go, offering a sympathetic ear to listen to your troubles, offering money when you tell him you lost your job… If he put effort into being better, they’d have to make him a Saint.

“I wasn’t… giving my best,” you finally sigh at the centre console, “At my job, at home… I knew I wasn’t giving my best, and I didn’t try to. I had everyone fooled into thinking that what I was giving them was all I had…. But it wasn’t…”

Suddenly, your eyes blur over with stinging, salty tears, and you duck your head at once, frowning angrily at yourself, “Not even close.”

Optimus murmurs your name, but you can’t bear to let him try and say anything kind to you now, not when you’ve just plucked at such a tender wound, and kindness would only rip the scab off sooner than you’re ready to let it bleed.

“I was, um… I was late to work one morning at my old job,” you clear your throat, sweeping a finger roughly under your eyelid, “Overslept. That was grounds for firing me. Lost my apartment because I couldn’t make the rent anymore… When I eventually bit the bullet and went home to tell dad, he…”

Your voice fades out, clogged by the memory of that day so many weeks ago, another in a long line of disappointments you’d walked over your parents’ welcome mat.

But Optimus is still waiting, still reserving his judgement until you finish, so you take a breath, remind yourself that all of this is nobody’s fault but your own, and continue. “I think… it was slowly killing my father to see his kid wasting a perfectly good life instead of being the person he thought I’d become.”

You try so hard to remain aloof, but the late hour, the solitary journey, this stranger’s amicable nature… Something akin to a shard of glass wedges its point under the soft tissue of your heart.

And jabs.

Suppressing a wince, you plaster nonchalance into a shrug and sniff, “So, I figured if he couldn’t see me, like at all, he might… be happier.” It’s hard to admit, just as it was when you made the decision to leave your house that night and set out to find your own way in the great, wide world.

Finally, just as the semi drives past a large, green sign that reads ‘Jasper city limits,’ Optimus’s voice rumbles through the speakers.

“You left your home,” he begins slowly, “Because you thought you might disappoint your father?”

Close.

You left because you knew you already had.

Not just him either.

Partnerless, childless, you’ve been drifting through life by yourself on the path of least resistance, and every year, you grow older, and you watched your mother and father grow older too.

Leaning your head back against the seat, you nearly let your eyes slip shut before remembering you’re supposed to be staying awake, pinning them open to peer up at the blue light reflected off a dark ceiling.

“… Does he at least know where you are?”

You smile sadly, rolling your neck around to your other shoulder and giving the empty driver’s seat a heavy-lidded blink. “He knows I’ll be okay.”

Just then, the seatbelt seems to grow ever so slightly tauter around you, just enough that you can feel it press against your abdomen, but so briefly that you can’t be sure it isn’t your chest hitching.

“He must be worried about you,” Optimus prompts.

Shrugging, you turn back to face the window. “Like I said, he knows I’ll bounce back. I… usually do. I mean I have done so far.”

Another disquieted hum trickles out of the speakers.

“That’s why I had to get to the dairy tonight,” you sniffle, blinking hard as the truck passes beneath the first street-light, bringing you safely within the city outskirts, “I have to make sure Terry thinks I’m worth keeping on as a farm-hand. If I’m late on my first day and he decides I’m not worth it…”  Your hands ball into clenched fists in your lap and you grit your teeth, determined not to let your misty eyes spill all over Optimus’s seats.

“I need this job,” you croak, more to yourself now than your invisible listener, “Not sure how many bounces I’ve got left in me.”

This time, you’re certain the seatbelt tightens. You even spare it a glance when it doesn’t slacken again, and you force your fists apart to slide your fingers beneath the fabric, gently working it loose.

Optimus is barely aware of your touch. “You should try to contact your father,” he says at last, “I’m certain that if he hears of your circumstances, and learns why you left and where you are, he’ll be able to help you.”

He watches you blink, frowning suddenly and sitting up to give his side of the cab a baffled look. Slowly, your expression opens up as a realisation dawns on you, one not yet privy to the mech.

“Oh,” you say, mildly surprised, “You think it was only my decision to leave.”

-----------------------------------------

Optimus doesn’t know which is worse.

That you could feel like such a burden to your family, you thought leaving would make them happy.

Or the fact that your family had done nothing to stop you from walking out the door.

--------------------------------------

There aren’t a great many things that a Prime is permitted to regret.

That does not, however, make them incapable of regret. Only the admission of it.

By the time Optimus’s gargantuan tyres turn onto the long, sandy driveway of Terry’s Dairy, he realises he’s added one more contrition to his ever-growing list. He’s gone behind your back, turned a blind optic to your wishes and invaded your privacy in a way that made the matrix in his chassis squirm and howl.

But it’s all he could think to do for you at short notice, he laments, short of carting you back to the silo and ensuring you get some proper rest. Ratchet would probably take one look at your vitals and order a week of inactivity. Then he’d likely tear Optimus a new finial for bringing yet another human into their fold.

It would be counterproductive, he supposes. After all, the Decepticons aren’t aware of your existence, and affiliating yourself with the Autobots will only paint a target on your back.

No, leaving you here is for the best, he reasons, though he resolves to avoid going behind your back again in the future.

He also resolves to make the drive up to the pastures part of his weekly patrol… Not for any particular reason – it’s possible the Decepticons also prowl along these old roads… And if, on his way by, he happens to cast a glance over and see you, well… All the better.

“Are you certain you’ll be alright?” he asks for the umpteenth time as he trundles to a stop in front of a modest, wooden farmhouse, his headlights bathing the little white porch in their dazzling glow.

Giving a jovial roll of your eyes, you haul your rucksack out of the footwell and reach down to press the seatbelt release, having to jab at it with your thumb a few times before it eventually relents and lets go of the metal buckle.

“Don’t you worry about me,” you tell him stoutly as you reach for the door handle. That too, you struggle to open, tugging at it with no success until the lock promptly goes ‘click’ and the door swings open of its own accord.

Clicking your tongue at the temperamental tech, you arduously slide yourself from the seat and swing the rucksack over a shoulder, climbing backwards down the steps. “You just worry about getting this truck in tip-top shape. Sounded like the engine had a mind of its own.”

Dropping the last foot to the ground, your knees threaten to buckle, but you manage to remain upright, stepping back to smile up into the cab before the door tugs itself shut.

Right on cue, the semi’s idling engine lets out a noisy rev, instantly drawing a laugh out of you.

“Ha!” you grin, “Yeah, just like-”

You’re promptly interrupted by an unexpected commotion from the house.

Whipping your head towards the porch, you let out a yelp as the screen door suddenly bursts open, and from the darkness comes barrelling a short, stocky man wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama shorts, a single shoe, and a ferocious snarl.

But most alarmingly of all, is the shiny, side-by-side shotgun held aloft in his arms, the stock braced against his shoulder and one, keen eye staring straight down the sights.

All the moisture in your mouth dries up when you realise those long, glinting barrels are aimed directly at you.

“What the-!?” is all you can bleat out.

Without a moment’s warning, the truck beside you roars to life and suddenly lurches forwards on its wheels, thrusting itself like a wall of metal into the space between you and the gun-toting farmer.

“Wh- Optimus!” you exclaim, trying to stand on your toes to fruitlessly see over the semi’s grill. “Terry!? Is that you!?”

“I told you sons of bitches,” the incensed man hollers, “F’I ever caught you tryn’a mess with my cows again, I’d-!”

“Terry!” Stepping sideways, you attempt to move around Optimus’s semi, only for the truck to roll forwards, keeping you hidden safely behind its bumper.

“Optimus, stop it,” you hiss, planting a palm on the warm, thundering hood and darting around the front of his truck, too quickly for him to move forwards again lest he squash you beneath his radiator.

Lifting your voice, you hurriedly call out, “Terry, i-it’s me! Y/n? We spoke on the phone! About the job!”

You’re met with a stunned silence as you manage to skirt around to the other side of the semi’s bumper, keeping your hand on the metal as if that alone could keep the ten-tonne machine at bay.

Finally, ‘Terry’ comes into view, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you meet his steely glare through the sights.

Then, just as swiftly, he blinks, and the gun drops almost at once, his face bursting open in surprise. “Y/n? That you, kid?” he calls.

The palpable relief almost brings you to your knees. Taking your hand off the truck’s grill, you step forwards, eyeing the gun warily as it dangles at the farmer’s side. “Yeah, it’s me… Sorry.”

“Goddammit, Kid! You about gave me a damn heart attack!”

“I gave you a heart attack!?” Expelling a shaky breath, you card your fingers through your messy hair and add, “Jesus, Terry. Was the gun really necessary?”  

There’s a line of sweat beading on the farmer’s wispy brow as he flicks his gaze between you and the revved-up truck lurking behind you. After a moment of squinting, he returns his eyes to you. “Can’t be too careful,” he grunts, “This old thing ain’t even loaded. Just use it to scare away some damn kids who’ve been comin’ round here and spookin’ up my herds.”

True to his word, Terry breaks the shotgun’s barrels, flipping the gun around in his hands to show you the empty chambers.

At that moment, as if he’d been waiting to determine that the danger had passed, Optimus puts his semi in reverse, rolling it backwards over the sand as you turn to watch him leave, absently raising a hand to wave farewell as he turns the truck around.

Just before he does, the semi’s headlights blink once, then twice, on and off, a farewell in his own right, before its wheels carry it around in the spacious yard and it begins to drive, leaving the way it had come, back up the lonely, sand-choked track.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Terry breathes, draping a wrist over his forehead and letting out an incredulous chuckle, “The Angel…” Tearing his eyes off the truck’s retreating taillights, he stares over at you, mouth crooked into a lopsided grin. “How the Hell’d you get a ride with the goddamn Angel?”

“I’m sorry,” you sputter, eyelashes flickering in disbelief, “Angel?”  

Terry’s expression morphs from giddy excitement to a wistful, faraway gaze. “The Angel of Highway Forty-Nine,” he says breathlessly, his eyes sharpening once again as he turns them back onto you, “He’s a legend. Just showed up one day in that big ol’ truck of his. Noone knows who he is or where he came from! A ghost, that’s what folks say, who drives his rig up and down the roads around Jasper. Never stoppin’ for gas. Never gettin’ to where he’s goin.”

Suddenly, his demeanour shifts again, and he closes the distance between you, lowering his voice conspiratorially and lifting his hand up to his mouth as if to shield the words from prying ears. Though the only ears you can see are those of the cows watching sleepily from their barn, no doubt awoken by the ruckus. “I know folks who swear, when they drive past him on the road, they look, but not one of ‘em has ever seen a person behind that windscreen!”

“Oh my,” you return, feigning intrigue with a tired expertise, “That’s spooky. But… maybe the glass is just tinted?”

Terry leans backwards out of your bubble, spreading his arms wide and pursing his lips. “Maybe,” he concedes, only to immediately drop his arms again, and you watch in mild concern as his face splits into a wide, borderline-manic grin, “Or maybe… He’s an alien, and that big rig there?” He points the barrel of his shotgun down the farm track at the spot where Optimus had disappeared. “That’s his craft.”

…. Ah.

Paying dutiful attention, you follow his line of sight, eyebrows high on your head and a carefully pensive gaze laid bare for Terry to see.

“His craft?” you echo, “You mean like a spaceship?”

The old farmer’s face lights up and his eyes zero in on you like a car salesman who’s just spotted a clueless customer stumbling into his showroom.

It took twenty minutes for Terry to show you to the little annex you’d be living in from now on. And only another five for you to thank him profusely for giving you this chance, bid him goodnight, shuck off your shoes and rucksack and finally, finally flop face-first onto the bed. A real bed. With pillows and sheets and a blanket. Not the bed of an old pickup truck and a coat tossed over your legs for warmth.

Rolling onto your back, you splay your arms out on either side of you, sending a tiny smile up at the ceiling.

“Alien… Ha,” you laugh softly. Terry’s a character. Decent enough, but the scent of stale beer and hops lingering on his breath when he leaned in close stole some of the credence from his theory.

Now, Angel… you can get behind. Optimus had shown up right when you needed him, after all, even if you couldn’t see it for yourself at the time.

Ah, but Optimus is the good sort. And good sorts tend to drift to where they’re needed, helping out wherever they can. You’re not the good sort. You just muddle on through and go wherever you can, helping out where your help is invited.

You resolve to bite the bullet and just check how much is in your current account. See if you’ve got enough in there to hire a tow, or a friendly farmer with a tractor and a rope…

The passcode screen flicks away, and you’re left blinking tiredly at the figure on top of the page.

You blink once.

Then again, harder.

Then you promptly drop the phone onto the bed with a soft ‘whump.’

Snatching it back up, you gape at the screen, drop it again, then throw your hands over your mouth in abject horror.

There must be some mistake. You’re dreaming, you fell asleep, and this is a dream, surely to god!?

A third check yields the same results, and once again, you toss the phone away from you to the foot of the bed, staring after it as if it might come alive at any moment.

No matter how hard you squeeze your fingernails into your scalp, you can’t wake up from whatever twisted fantasy you’ve stumbled into.

The numbers and words are burned into your retinas, flashing dimly every time you blink.

‘$10,000 has been added to your account.’

[wigglermansblog]

Made in Cybertron

Synopsis : Orion Pax met a bot within the new cave section, the mysterious bot suffers amnesia and Orion wants to help them recover their memories and uncover secrets within Cybertron.

Prologue II >>

---------------

Prologue I

------------

"Hey! Get back here at once!"

Two guards are chasing after a blue and red bot, who is laughing to himself as he takes sharp turns in  order to escape the guards. He runs through the crowd causing the guards to lose sight of the cogless miner.

Orion Pax quickly gets onto the train that would lead him back to the mines, he grins to himself and pops a few energon cubes into his mouth.

"Easy peasy~" he grins as he leans on the wall.

What a day, he couldn't wait to tell D-16 about his research at the Archives. There's a lot of things he wants to talk about and there's might be a chance for them to find the Matrix of Leadership.

As soon the train reaches the mines, he steps out and goes straight to find his friend, D-16.

His optics spots D-16 pushing a cart full of energon, he grins and starts calling out to the bot. "Hey, D!" he calls out as the grey mech turns his helm and glares at the red blue bot "Orion, where were you?!" he hiss. "You've been missing for hours!".

"It's only like one hour! I was quick, don't worry" assure Orion.

"Quick?! You've missed half the day's shift! If anything happens, I ain't helping you with your workload!" D-16 says in exasperation, unloading the energon into the crate. He clearly dislikes his friend breaking the protocols. Always get himself in trouble and he won't be there to save him if gets himself caught by those guards.

"Oh—" Orion's optic widens in realization, he didn't know he was gone for THAT long. "Well, uhh...heh heh...I'll get to work then" the bot rubs the back of his neck. Guess he has to start his shift before Darkwing or Elita finds out he's been snitching work.

D-16 rolls his optics as he loads the last energon into the crate and he will be done for the day. It was tiring and his body felt sore, the workload has been increasing day by day. They barely get any rest, if they do, they only get a few minutes or so.

He closes the crate and watches it get taken away.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Is this all it?" Sentinel says in disbelief, holding a data pad in his hands. He slams the data pad on the table causing everything on the table to be knocked over. He received the news of the mining progression and it wasn't good at all.

Their energon source is depleting and it won't be enough for everyone, let alone... for THEM! The Quintesson.

He has to find a way.

"Argh! There has to be a way!" he vents angrily. His optics turn to Arachnid, "Ready the troops for another expedition, now" he said as the femme nods and exit the office. Once he is alone, he turns around and calls out.

"Zephyrstrike! You told me that everything is going smoothly!" he said, coming out from the shadows is a slim mech in copper and black pallets.

"My master, please. Be patient, my team and I are doing our best to find it" Zephyrstrike said in a calm and soothing tone. "Patience! Patience that's all you said—" Sentinel growls, stomping over to the shorter mech. "I will be doomed once the Quintesson finds out that I barely provide energon for them!" he said.

"I know, master but finding the Matrix isn't easy. SteelHazard is trying his best to locate it, he hasn't had enough sleep for the pass cycles...." the mech said. "Also— I bear good news, master. We have found a new mining area within the deepest caves of Cybertron. It will give us enough supplies for the next 3 moon cycles" Zephyrstrike assures the 'Prime'.

Sentinel quirk a brow at the news, a new mining area means more energon and more energon means more work for the cogless miners. The 'Prime' fixes his structure, "Very well, tell the mining operators about it and make sure everything goes well. Understand?" he said.

Zephyrstrike smiles and bows, "I understand, master" he said before disappearing into the shadows, back where he came from while Sentinel turns and leaves for another expedition.

.

.

.

"Listen up, all of you miners!" Darkwing's voice boom, causing all the miners to stop whatever they are doing. "The exploration team has discovered a new cave system. You know the drill! We call out your names, get your equipment and start digging!" he said. Some of the miners weren't so happy with the news they have received, another cave to mine and they have to work more than usual.

Their superiors start to call out each bots names and surprise that both Orion and D-16 were included.

Orion let out a groan, "Ugh, really? We barely finish with this cave and now we have another?" he said. "Come on, Orion. We are doing this for the good of Cybertron, for everyone and Sentinel Prime" D-16 said, picking up his mining equipment. "Yeah, I know" Orion smiles as he does the same. Both of them went to the station and were ready to be transported to the new cave.

"Hey, at least we get to see something new" D-16 smiles, nudging his friend. "Who knows if we will find the Matrix in that cave" he said. "Hm, you're right! But—I'm going to miss going to the Archives now" he pouts. "Well, at least now I don't have to cover your aft anymore" D-16 said.

"Are you sure about that?" Orion grins as they board the train as it takes them to the new mining section.

.

.

.

(End of Prologue I )

[shinygoldstar]

all the terrible terrible things that happened in DP but got glossed over because it's a cartoon show (aka the source of all the phandom's horror inspirations)

Dissection (mentioned several times. attempted by Maddie Masters although it was more of a threaten for answers kind of thing. also attempted by Vlad to determine why Dani lasted longer than other clones)

Brainwash (Plantwash by Undergrowth via invasive plant tentacles, Musicwash by Ember's music)

Possession (out of context of cartoon shows, if someone loses autonomy to an unknown someone else controlling their body, this would be terrifying. this happened on massive scale in this cartoon show several times and more frequently on smaller scale) (Freakshow's red orb staff fits here more than in the Brainwash section)

Spectra's quest for immortal youth (because this is a kid's show, instead of bathing in virgin's blood for immortal youth like Bathory, Spectra made do with binging on teenagers' emotions. depression isn't a joke but Spectra hands it out like candy)

Can it be gore if there's no red? all the ghosts that were implied to have been caught by the Fentons, the GIW, and Vlad for the purpose of experimentation to develop their ectoequipments (bonus: the melted Danny clones that were implied sentient and aware)

Dehumanization (all the ghost hunters did this to validate their actions. Vlad where did you draw your mental line between the melted Danny clones and the prime clone?)

the Mutant Food (the Fentons are lucky that those things haven't gained enough intelligence to take over their weapon stash yet. re: crab with a knife)

Cannibalism?? (this one is debatable since all the materials in ghost zone are made out of ectoplasm, are all ghosts the same species? where's the line drawn at?)

OSHA violations (let's see.. resulted in the creation of Vlad Plasmius, Danny Phantom, mutant food. possibly an on-going process of creating a haunted FentonWorks except Danny is already haunting FW.) (also ectoplasm glows. is it radioactive? highly mutagenic- see: mutant food. the Fentons claims their ectoweapons are safe but they're wearing hazmats, the people they sometimes accidentally shoot ectoplasmic goo at don't have hazmat protective suits) (do they have proper disposal protocols? or are they polluting Amity Park with highly mutagenic and likely radioactive ectoplasm?)

Technus' world domination (why wait for AI domination like skynet and the matrix when we have Technus)- this one is underutilized plot but Technus can become a high level threat without proper counter (reminder: he had access to nuclear weapons for a hot minute)

the Plasmius-Phantom merge into Dan/Dark Danny/Dark Phantom (they just merged grieving kid's soul with the soul of an old man obsessed with the kid's mom, is it any wonder that they didn't come out sane?)

Danny's repeated deaths (death by portal zap count: 2)

the time GIW tried to nuke Ghost Zone (and consequently, the Reality out of sheer ignorance)

The reblog with Vlad's list of crimes here