#not loop specifically. the concept of them rather

[moonstandardtime]

Led

[lets-try-some-writing]

Concept: the entire Transformers franchise is one giant time loop. Every new iteration is another attempt to get it right and avert the Great War.

I wrote an entire one shot specifically for this ask. Enjoy.

Aversion at its Finest

Primus has never been pleased with the fact that his creations always go to war with each other. Thus, in an attempt to keep the Cybertronian civil war from occurring, he has chosen to periodically rebuild reality and try again with the help of his chosen. Unfortunately for Optimus, Primus is learning the ropes just as much as he is, and until they both get it right, neither can rest.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

The skies were thick with smog. Fires burned in the distance, but only their crackling filled the void. There were no more cries. No more moans of pain or the curses of the most hardened warriors of both sides. All was quiet. Everything was gone… save for Optimus and his foe.

The hole in his chassis burned. He could feel his frame shutting down as he lay in the ash, his limbs useless now that he had no enemy to fell or weapon to hold. He would have liked to see the stars as it all came to an end, especially since he was not surrounded by friends and family as he had been during his first death. Yet, he didn’t dare turn his gaze away from the blackened skies. If he did, he knew all he would see was Rodimus’s body stabbed through with dozens of pieces of rebar and Elita torn limb from limb.

Both had fought so very hard for him. Trying desperately to buy him just a little more time. If they had only had the chance to activate the space bridge, maybe they could have brought their species to its bitter end on their homeworld rather than dragging Earth down with them. As it was… this was to be the end. The end of everything. No more games. No more laughter.

Only silence.

“We had a good run, didn’t we, Prime?” Megatron spoke up, his voice as deep and grating as ever. There was a faint tremor to it, the barest inklings of fear that threatened to peek through the persona of madness he usually wore. After so many millennia of fighting the mech, Optimus could tell that he was seeking companionship, even now as they lay waiting for their respective ends.

“Yes we did, Megatron.” Optimus replied just as faintly, his right optic flickering just enough to annoy him even with the pain of death creeping at the edges of his every waking thought. He kept his optics on the sky, not wanting to see the devastation. At least the black above was without blemish. It was solid, not filled with horrors. Merely the echoes of them.

How had it all come to this? Cybertron was restored. Their people were thriving. Optimus and Rodimus were ruling together and Galvatron left for the stars? Just how had it all gone so wrong?

A renewed war.

A plague of hate.

The Quintessons and their creations.

Unicron’s wrath.

So many little things… all of it leading them right back to where they started. War and violence, pain and anguish… without a hint of hope to be found. When had Optimus heard any of his soldiers laugh? It had to have been centuries.

“Rodimus was a poor replacement. I never did get the same thrill fighting him.” Megatron chuckled and Optimus had to fight the urge to work up the strength to throttle him to death for it. Even now as everything they could have possibly worked toward lay burning to ash, his foe was still laughing about it all. Like it was some grand game.

“He was never meant for war, and you were hardly yourself when you were Galvatron.” Optimus was unable to stop the hint of bitterness that entered his tone. Rodimus had not asked for the burden. He never deserved such an end.

“Very true.” Megatron responded with a faint huff that died down soon enough.

Silence consumed the battlefield for a while. Perhaps it was mere minutes. Or maybe it went on for years. Time meant nothing now. But eventually, as if to spite him one final time, Megatron opened his mouth again.

“You were a good rival, Optimus. Always taking me by surprise.” The comment briefly took Optimus by surprise. But the cold was already settling into frame, making his processor slow and his reactions more controlled. He said nothing, opting instead to observe the skies as he had since he fell.

“I’m going to miss this.” Megatron’s faint wish rang in his audials. Optimus acknowledged it with a soft hum, his final offer of amiability considering the circumstances. As much as a small part of him screamed that he should let Megatron suffer at the end of it all, the rest of his spark could not handle that idea. They were dying anyway. Might as well do so in relative comfort. 

So many millennia of conflict… Why had they battled at all? Megatron was a power hungry villain, yes. But how did it reach that point? Why did Megatron attack him and his friends at the docks? Why had Megatron risen to power at all? 

Why had it turned out this way?

His processor ached as he thought back, dredging up ancient memory and finding nothing. Had there even been a point?

“Why were we fighting to begin with? Why did you choose to do all of this?” Optimus found the question escaping his vocalizer before he could stop it. Against his better judgement, he looked over at Megatron and saw his foe grinning, but not meeting his gaze. The beam stuck in Megatron’s abdomen left him spitting up energon as he cackled.

“Come now Prime. You should know the answer to this.” Megatron’s optics blazed between flickers, his servo reaching up toward the sky as if to grasp at some invisible goal. Optimus wondered what the answer would be. Glory? Some strange ideal that he’d never seen fit to share? Perhaps to avenge a long dead loved one?

“Power of course.” 

Ah.

He should have known better.

“But why? You were a state of the art model. You had the whole world in front of you, and instead you chose to burn it all down.” Anger and despair boiled in Optimus’s very core. All this death had been for some twisted power fantasy? At least if it had been due to some old rivalry or goal Optimus could have died with an answer.

By the stars… what a life he’d lived.

“I’ve forgotten.” Megatron’s response to his anguished question came soft and oddly thoughtful. Yet, Optimus could only respond with a grim scoff, a sound he hadn’t made since he was Orion Pax.

“You’ve forgotten why you killed millions?” 

“You act as though you haven’t slaughtered thousands yourself.” Megatron shot back with a vicious retort before laughing. If Optimus were capable of shaking in rage, he would have. But his frame was weakening, his systems failing faster now. He simply didn’t have the energy.

“Does it really matter, Prime? Today we die. So shut up and do it with a bit of grace.” Optimus’s optic twitched in agitation. Megatron was one to talk when all he’d done was screech at Starscream and Soundwave the times he lay on death’s door.

“Never would have taken you to be a mech to go down quietly.” Optimus snarked as he sensed the Matrix going quiet. That was his sign to hurry up with his final will and testament if he’d had anyone aside from the glitch next to him to express his thoughts to.

“Normally, I wouldn’t. But I dragged you down with me, didn’t I? Ripped your Autobots apart and blasted you half to pieces.” Oh for the good of Vector Sigma-

Optimus’s optic twitched again, anger bubbling so hotly that if he’d had even the barest inkling of strength left he would have gotten up and shut Megatron up himself, mercy forgotten. As it stood, all he could do was clench his fist and rage internally.

“You are the worst.” His bitter remark was met with a laugh, one he didn’t bother responding to. Not even a few minutes later, the faint sounds of Megatron’s venting vanished, leaving Optimus alone with his fate. A bitter part of his processor cursed at his old foe for being selfish yet again and dying before Optimus could. But most of his spark was simply weary.

Anger faded into sorrow and lamentation. Strength slipped right through his digits and the only comfort Optimus had in his final moments were the memories of better times. Even those did little to ease him as his venting grew harsher.

It wouldn’t be long now.

“Elita… what would you think of this madness?” Optimus coughed weakly, an instinctual response to try and clear his soot filled vents. He knew it was useless, especially as his processor started furiously running through every memory file it had access to.

He saw his soldiers in their final moments. He saw the war at its worst and the peace Rodimus brought. He saw his first clash with Megatron after his reformat. But most importantly to him, he saw Ariel’s fair face smiling at him as she guided Orion Pax along the docks for one of their usual dates. He felt her derma against his as they danced under the moonlight, and with that memory held close, all was right with the world.

It was a pleasant vision, one Optimus clung to as his optics shut down and the rest of his frame quickly followed suit. But instead of the Allspark greeting him, Optimus found himself in a void. Formless and alone. 

He had no idea how long he spent there or if it even mattered. But eventually, as thought and consciousness grew less important, a voice rang out.

“So much death…” 

The chorus-like nature of the voice washed over Optimus in waves, reviving memories that had gone dormant and bringing him back to full awareness. He could not identify where the song came from or if it came from anywhere at all. All he knew was that it was powerful and demanded respect he knew not how to give.

“You were all such innocent children. It should not have come to this.”

Children? Strange.

“We will try again. We will make this right.”

What was that supposed to mean? He died. That was it. He was one with the Allspark once more. Wasn’t he?

“Who’s there? What’s going on?” He tried to ask questions, but his voice felt like a faint wisp in the wind compared to the power of the entity which spoke as if the whole universe hung in its grasp.

“Hush now. Rest while you can. Your duty is not yet done.”

Optimus’s vision was flooded with images of things he could hardly comprehend. War. Death. Fire and brutal combat. The forms of the fighters changed, sometimes thick and sometimes spindly. But through it all, there was one figure Optimus knew by spark. Gunmetal gray and built for war, he knew the frame of his foe without even having to think about it. With his blaster raised to the sky and a roar bubbling in his vocalizer, Optimus understood what was being asked of him.

The battle was not yet over. He didn’t know how or why, but Megatron was out there, and he had to be stopped. That was the only possible conclusion Optimus could come to.

“How long must I fight?”

“Till All Are One.”

And then everything faded away once more.

----

Optimus came online slowly, memory washing over him in an overpowering wave that left him shaking on whatever berth he was laid out on. There was much to sort through, but the first thing he remembered was his current identity. 

He was Optimus Prime, brought to life using a protoform and trained at the Academy to serve the Autobots and guard Cybertron against their greatest foes, the Decepticons. He was raised under the belief that the war was over and that his programming defined his reality. However, he fought against both of these concepts and strove to be something more, a hero of all things.

He had friends during training. Elita-One and Sentinel. Both betrayed him, although at different times and with varying justification. Cast aside for his ‘crimes’, Optimus was allowed to keep the rank of Prime, a position that came close to equaling that of General rather than supreme ruler of the people. From there he was all but demoted and supplied with a crew to repair space bridges.

It was a simple life, but ambition and one unfortunate crash led them to Earth. Megatron and his Decepticons remerged. He made friends, growing close to his team who were so similar and yet so different all at once. He did not know a Bulkhead until now, or a Sentinel for that matter. But Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Elita? They sparked recognition in him. 

Slag, his processors hurt.

“Bossbot! You alright?” A far too excitable voice prompted Optimus to unshutter his optics, coming online fully with a groan. He sat up slowly, rubbing his face and trying to comprehend his reality as he began to recall more. Looking at the bot who called him, Optimus logically knew him as Bumblebee. But half his processor screamed at him that Bumblebee looked and acted differently. Boxier, more mature in some regards, and yet playful all the same.

This Bumblebee was his, but he was wrong. All so very wrong.

“Bumblebee? What… happened?” Optimus’s optics tried to calibrate, but there was something off about it. These optics were a little different from the ones he knew. Where was his battlemask? Why was he so… lanky?

No. He was always lanky. The memories… they were not his. 

“You were holding the Allspark and got a bit too close.” Ratchet put a servo on his shoulder, stunning Optimus as he stared at the medic. Slag, he was ancient. His records stated he was old, but contradicting memory indicated that Ratchet was meant to at least act a bit younger with humor and laughter. What the frag happened?

“It knocked you flat on your aft!” Bumblebee laughed, and that much at least was familiar. Optimus touched his chassis, feeling his spark pulse within as memory settled. Ancient and now useless protocols faded away to make room for data he could actually use. 

“I… yes. I remember.” He was a dock worker once. Orion Pax was his name. He was shot. He was reforged. He claimed a relic his current reality did not know until the Allspark was placed within it. He fought against his enemy, Megatron. He went on adventures, made friends.

Then he lay in ash and ruin, his world shattered.

“I died.” His voice came out softer than intended as Optimus looked down at his servos. They were not covered in scars like his old ones. They did not reek of plasma, nor did his body ache with familiar pains from centuries of hastily tended wounds. He was young, and now he had wisdom.

“Yeah, but that was forever ago back on Earth!” Bumblebee tapped his arm lightly, but Optimus hardly reacted. It was difficult having two personalities settle, but purpose guided him. The voice in the void ordered that he fight Megatron. Did he have to obey?

Looking at his team, his friends… Optimus found himself leaning into the order regardless of the validity of the voice and its authority. The wisdom of the Prime he once was, or at least the Prime that existed in another time and place, would aid him in saving his own people and saving them that same fate.

He was Optimus Prime, and his mission was to stop Megatron at all costs.

“His processor is scrambled.” Bulkhead gestured nervously, earning a huff from Ratchet who began taking scans. Optimus paid him no mind, instead standing up and squaring his shoulders. The joy of his first existence was more subdued now, calmed by reawakening and determination.

“Where is Megatron?” The question came sharply, more so than Optimus intended. His voice shook as he attempted to speak with a vibrato he no longer possessed. His friends looked at him strangely, and Ratchet took the chance to quietly begin assessing his frame. Optimus allowed it, his focus elsewhere.

“In prison. We brought him back to Cybertron, remember?” Bulkhead informed politely, only earning a low hum from Optimus as he considered. Megatron was defeated. So why had the voice done this and ordered that he fight? He’d won, hadn’t he? Surely there was something missing… Perhaps another Decepticon? A Galvatron in the making? Or was Unicron the threat?

“And the rest of the Decepticons?” He could feel his spark sinking in his chassis as he considered the possibilities. If so much as Starscream managed to get away-

“Unaccounted for.” Frag.

Optimus cursed under his breath, a habit that his prior self would have never approved of. He crossed his arms, thinking and reviewing memory for a long moment until something stuck out.

Tender touches shared in the dark. First with Elita-One, and then with another. A blue visor that shone in the moonlight, the simple pleasure of digits laced together. A soothing voice and dozens of hours spent in meditation he never quite understood but engaged in anyway for the sake of companionship. The adoring glances exchanged when the others were deep in recharge or otherwise engaged…

“What about Prowl?” His spark knew the truth, as did his processor. But some small fragment of Optimus’s being needed confirmation.

“He fell in the final battle.” Ratchet’s words hit harder than expected, and Optimus couldn’t help but sit back down with a sigh.

It was never official. What he shared with Prowl was a simple companionship that walked the line between something deeper and mere brotherhood. They never used words to describe themselves because such labels were dangerous. They both claimed it would hurt more that way. And yet, as Optimus reviewed his memories of their intimate moments shared when no one was looking, he felt nothing but grief. No one knew what they had. None would understand.

It was like leaving Elita-One on Cybertron all over again. The ache would never fully fade, but it was dulled by the memories of his prior existence which diluted his affections, spreading them out over others who he had not even met in his current reality.

“I see…” Optimus took a moment to sit in silence, a grace period that even the likes of Bumblebee respected. Memory supplied him with countless battles, and from the experiences of his prior self, he had a feeling that he’d already come too late to stop what was brewing. His memory would do little when the Decepticons were already a fully trained, highly organized militia. There was no stopping it now.

“This… is not going to end well.” Optimus’s words were hardly a whisper, but they felt dooming.

His declaration turned out to be entirely correct as time wore on.

The Autobot empire fell apart in brutal fashion, with Ultra Magnus dying and Sentinel Magnus making a fragging mess out of everything. Optimus raised a militia of his own with the help of his other self’s memory, but by the time he had his people in line and Sentinel in prison, war was already upon them. Megatron matched the vision the voice shared as he burned their cities and killed their warriors. Optimus fought as well as he could, but this Megatron was far more cunning that the one his prior self knew. Not quite as vicious perhaps, but highly intelligent. 

One battle after another, and Optimus watched history repeat itself. The laughter and joy of his people dimmed. Stoicism and anger set in as the Allspark failed and their war grew more destructive. It was like the great war from long before his forging, only a thousand times worse. Optimus had no words to describe it as he led his warriors onward, fighting for something even he no longer understood. He acted because that was what duty demanded. Heroism and personal agendas were irrelevant. 

Vorns upon vorns of conflict, and he ended up right where he began. His warriors had all been slaughtered, with Bumblebee and Sentinel of all bots having fallen in his defense instead of Elita-One and Rodimus. His frame was slowly shutting down from yet another brutal blaster wound to his chassis, leaving Optimus on his knees. But instead of having the satisfaction of bringing Megatron down with him, Optimus sat alone amidst the rubble of their world, a blaster pointed right at his helm.

“This is the end, little Prime.” Megatron’s voice rang out, but he couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry. This Megatron was not a glitch about his victory. Instead… he seemed somewhat solemn as he lowered his weapon temporarily, allowing Optimus a chance to speak.

“Why? Why go this far?” Optimus couldn’t help but ask the question that had been burning at the back of his mind since he woke all those vorns ago, before he was bitter and scarred. His Megatron had been a power hungry glitch, insanity driving his every action. But this Megatron was far wiser. So why had he done this? Why burn it all down?

“Because your people, the society you built, are corrupt. My kind were bound in chains, told they were monsters and enslaved.” Megatron knelt down, a sign he recognized as indicating respect. Optimus released his axe with a faint cough as he clutched the wound on his side. There was no point fighting now. And beyond that… there was truth in Megatron’s words.

Reviewing the history of both his lives, he could see that there were cracks. Orion Pax had been oblivious to the hidden discrimination toward the frame types that fell out of acceptable ranges. In his current existence, Optimus could now clearly sense the lies that had been fed to him. Thousands of warframe and only warframes would not rebel without reason. They would not flee for millennia instead of blowing the planet to the next solar system. They weren’t an organization built for seeking out power.

Megatron had reasons for his violence, and that at least was a vague comfort.

“I may have had to wait millions of years, but today my people shall have their vengeance and their freedom.” Megatron’s optics were blazing, and yet offered no emotion except eerie calm. Optimus coughed as he tried to respond. It hurt so much now…

“I… I fought for the freedom of my people too. I have fought for so long.” He hated whining, but he was unable to stop the tremor in his voice as he sagged in defeat. He’d managed to fail a second time.

“And I do not blame you for your struggle. You had no way of seeing through the lies.” Megatron, in a gesture of good will Optimus would have never expected, carefully pulled Optimus to his pedes. He held the back of Optimus’s neck, keeping up the illusion that he had the strength to walk himself as Megatron guided him to stand before the Decepticon army, now reveling in their victory.

“Here stands the last of the Autobots! The only one among their number who shall die with honor!” Megatron’s voice rang out. But instead of cheering, the Decepticons stood quiet and firm. Their optics were all locked onto him, but none were disrespecting the dead. The Autobots who had fallen were laid out, gathered by lower ranked Decepticons to be put to rest respectfully. It was enough to have Optimus’s venting hitch as Megatron’s blade came to rest against his neck.

He had failed. But at least this end was an honorable one.

“You were a good rival, Optimus. Die well, and know that I have respected no other as I have you.” Optimus managed a faint laugh as he looked up, uncaring of the doom that awaited him as he once again found himself staring up at smoke filled skies. 

He missed Elita. He missed Prowl.

“Till All Are One.” With his final mutter, the blade came down, and Optimus knew no more…

Until the voice rang out as it had millennia earlier.

“Too late. You woke too late.”

The chorus washed over him again, soothing and yet dejected all at once. Optimus felt a flash of anger infused his being as he snapped back, pain and anguish from both lives overwhelming reason.

“How was I supposed to have remembered earlier? I only got my memory back when I used the Allspark-” Before he could finish, the voice cut him off firmly, but not unkindly.

“It was not your fault. You fought well, my chosen.”

Optimus wanted to stay angry, but the faint comfort kept him from doing more than bristling internally. 

“We will try again. Just as we did before.”

Oh. 

So the voice was going to send him back again. But why? What did this thing care about so deeply?

“Who are you?” He tried to pose a question, but again the voice silenced him as it washed around him in a maelstrom of love, determination, and conviction.

“Not now. We are out of time.”

----

Once more, Optimus woke. This time however, he came online with a start. 

He shot up, clutching at his chassis as his spark spun and his processor burned with new data. It was easier this time to know and to accept. This frame was built for larger stores of information, a genetic quality of his lineage. He heard others around him, but he was far more focused on the meshing of personalities that now overwhelmed him.

He was forged a Prime, rather than made into one. He was of an ancient line, but only by the standards of his current reality. By any other metric, he was still young, practically a newbuild. He had a brother, Megatron. Together they were raised by Sentinel Prime, but only Optimus was chosen to lead their people. Megatron was to be his Lord High Protector, but too many squabbles and differences of opinion led to jealousy. That jealousy boiled over into war.

Optimus led his people as well as he could, but compared to the experiences of his other lives, he was all but a child. He had strength and he had wisdom, but he lacked the necessary exposure to truly wage war successfully. Megatron was no better, and so their war waged until their world burned and the galaxy crumbled in their wake. Countless good mecha died, including close allies and companions during the battle to save Earth and reclaim the Matrix.

And Jazz… by the Allspark, they’d lost Jazz.

“Prime, slow down.” Ratchet pressed a servo against his chest, forcing Optimus to sit back down as he unknowingly attempted to stand. Only then did Optimus note how erratic his venting was, or how hard his servos shook as he tried to calm his anxious spark. 

“Slaggit mech, scared the scrap outta us.” Ironhide tugged on Optimus’s arm as well, forcing him to settle. Optimus looked at both their faces and had to fight back a flinch. Ironhide looked… wrong by the standard of his prior lives. As did Ratchet for that matter. Their face plates did not exist, instead replaced by ever shifting parts to facilitate movement that he logically knew was required for proper functionality in their kind.

After a moment, Optimus’s initial fear response settled and he began to review anything of importance. Immediately he recognized the fact that he was far too late to do what the voice was asking of him. He still wasn’t entirely sure if the voice wanted him to kill Megatron or win the war. But both options were practically impossible to reach considering his situation. Their people were all but extinct as it was. Even if he won the war and ended his brother, their world was still dead.

It would be like the first life he lived. Eventually, they would all perish. Considering how upset the voice was about the death of so many, Optimus assumed it would prefer a different outcome. Slag there was so much to do. He was already too late to save what was lost. Jazz would have already had a plan-

Jazz.

His servos shook as Optimus buried his face in his servos, remembering yet another loss that weighed on him. First Elita, then Prowl, and now Jazz. 

Jazz had been with him since the beginning. He was a friend during training, a comrade as Optimus found himself accepted into the ranks of Primes, and later he became something more as the war began and dragged on endlessly. His spark cried out in grief as he recalled the countless times Jazz had come to spend time with him when he was but a scientist. They shared so many moments, tender touches and deep conversations. Jazz was, despite all his joy and whimsy, a highly educated and thoughtful mech.

Many of their youthful plans had long since been discarded. But Optimus remembered talk of hatchlings. He recalled many long nights where neither of them could recharge, so they cuddled up close and instead talked about better times. Slag it all, they had made a promise to formally join their houses once the war came to an end.

Now it didn’t matter. Not only had he failed to do as the voice asked, he’d failed to save the one person he really cared about aside from his former brother.

“I’m too late.” Oprimus’s voice cracked as he spoke. Ironhide and Ratchet stalled in their attempts to comfort him. The others were likely just as confused.

“I don’t understand it all. But I know now that I’m too late to change how this will all end.” Optimus muttered more to himself than to the others, grief overriding reason. He did not understand the voice, but by the Allspark he wished he could curse it for doing this to him.

“No matter how hard I fight to end this accursed war, it always ends in sorrow.” Always in ashes. Always alone. 

“Why? Why did it have to be me? Why was I chosen?” Curse it all. He should have died with Elita and Rodimus back on that forsaken battlefield. Perhaps then he could have found peace until the Quintessons inevitably revived their species as slaves once more.

“Losing Jazz hit us all hard… but we’re going to be alright, Optimus. You are going to be alright.” Strong arms wrapped around Optimus’s shoulders, drawing him into a firm embrace. Looking up, Optimus found it was Bumblebee who held him, his voice a mix of radio clips and static, but just as comforting as ever. This was a mech he recognized from all his lives. Despite all the minute differences, this was still his Bee.

“Bee’s right. You aren’t yourself. That last fight really fragged up y’er helm.” Ironhide patted him on the shoulder, offering comfort in his own gruff way. It did little to help, but Optimus appreciated the gesture anyway as the lamentations of two other lifetimes settled in his very core.

“I have to agree with Ironhide for once. Take some time and rest, Optimus. You need it.” Ratchet tried to smile, as did the rest. Unfortunately, it did next to nothing for Optimus’s mental state, even though he would have liked it to.

Battles came and went. Megatron died and was revived. The stakes continued to grow ever higher. When Quintessa came, Optimus was too tired to resist her call. He wanted to be done with it all, and if her offer of revival was what it took, he was willing to do what was required of him. Even when he broke free of her spell through Bumblebee and created a tentative peace between his kind and humanity, it was all very empty.

Megatron was unaccounted for. The Decepticons still roamed. Their war was not over… merely stalled.

There was no point in fighting anymore… at least not in this life.

“Hey Optimus.” Bumblebee called out to him as Optimus sat on a grassy hill, overlooking the landscape. He’d already made his decision, but he could tell Bumblebee sensed it.

“Bumblebee… it is good to see you again.” Optimus replied curtly, his sword resting firmly by his side. His optics were locked on the setting sun, enjoying a brief moment of peace before he tried again. The voice would surely make him fight once more, so for a mere klik, he wanted respite.

“You haven’t been around for a while. You know you can talk to us about stuff, right?” Bumblebee came to sit with him, a servo resting on Optimus’s leg in a friendly manner. Optimus regarded it with a faint hum, feeling calmer than he had in several Earth years. Such turmoil… such hopelessness. He had no idea what happened to the world when he perished and the voice took him, but Optimus hoped that those he left behind kept on living. He hoped the galaxy recovered from the war, back in his first realm. And as much as he hated the suffering of his last life, he did partially wish that the Decepticons were indeed ruling Cybertron in peace now that the Autobots were gone.

By the stars… it would soothe him greatly if his people managed to find a safe source of energon and began raising hatchlings again. He could never accomplish what the voice wanted, but his people, if they were lucky and didn’t annihilate each other in his absence, would endure.

“I know.” Optimus’s response was stalled, but Bumblebee didn’t seem to mind as they both sat there quietly. The sun continued to set, and as it did, Optimus felt his time drawing to a close. He had not had the chance in prior lives… but maybe this time a final will and testament was due.

“I’ve done this before, Bumblebee.” The words flowed easily from his vocalizer, relieving tension that had hung heavy in his shoulders since his waking. Bumblebee regarded him nervously, but did not interrupt as he continued.

“Countless battles, endless conflicts. Yet I cannot seem to complete the task that was given to me.” Looking up, Optimus was relieved further as he saw stars instead of smoke. It was going to be a pleasant deviation from his prior existences. 

“What task is that?” Bumblebee questioned hesitantly, his concern evident in the way his optics cycled and his door wings twitched. Optimus felt a hint of guilt bubble up in his spark, but it was soon smothered by exhaustion. The voice would return him soon enough. It didn’t really matter.

“I… do not know. Not entirely.” He admitted his ignorance without shame. The voice had given him a duty, but that duty was vague and uncertain. “How can you do something if you don’t even know what you are meant to be accomplishing? You treat yourself too harshly.” Such comfort from one so young. The two other lives within him smiled at the offered kindness. But Optimus merely sighed. 

Born too late to stop the war… This was all he could do.

“The one who gave me my purpose, the one who keeps making me fight… that being showed me a vision of my brother. The fire… the death… I felt that maybe he was the key. But he’s no longer a threat, and I do not feel complete.” More and more of the weight lifted from Optimus’s spark as he poured out his woes. There was a certain melancholy to the whole situation, but speaking was freeing.

“I think I was meant to preserve our world and our people. But I came too late to do that.” Optimus had his opinions when it came to the voice and its vision. Now that he’d lived three times and failed in each attempt he made to target Megatron specifically, he had a feeling the voice wanted something else.

But even if that were the case, there was still nothing he could do in his current state. His work here was done.

“We live and there is a chance at restoration. You did all you could. You are not to blame.” Bumblebee’s tone indicated he was more than a little concerned. However, Optimus simply hummed. The ache of loss hurt more than it should have. But Jazz had meant so much to him in this life… and the loss was fresh.

“So I’ve been told… but I know in my spark that this is not what the entity sought. I shall be forced to fight once more. Of that I am certain.” Optimus again looked back up at the skies, trying to find familiar constellations he learned while talking with Spike all those vorns ago. What would that boy think of him now? There was no joy in him anymore. At least, not the open variety.

“Maybe you should take some time off… go join Drift and explore for a while. I’m sure Sam would love to see you again.” Bumblebee offered with a nervous uptick of his doorwings. The air between them was tense, unspoken understanding radiating on both their ends. Bumblebee was doing his part, but it was clear that Optimus was going to do what he planned to, and no one could stop him.

“I shall consider it.” Offering a gentle smile, Optimus clasped Bumblebee’s shoulder and memorized his features. He hoped the voice’s next attempt would let him keep his oldest friend. He wasn’t sure how he was going to keep marching on if every time he woke, his dearest companion was always deceased.

“Optimus, I know you’ve got your own monsters to face, but please… don’t give up on us or yourself.” Bumblebee drew Optimus in for a hug, one that lasted a while. But eventually the time came for his companion to leave. Bumblebee hesitated, looking back periodically as he made his way back to base. Optimus kindly did not act until long after dark, and even then, he ensured he was far from prying optics as he recorded a final message and raised his blade for a final time.

Guilt hung in his spark as the void claimed him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as the voice again washed over him.

“You hurt so deeply, my chosen.”

Oh so now the voice pitied him. After sending him through suffering meant for Unicron’s servants, only now did it regard him?

“You did this to me and I don't even know who you are or what you want from me.” He wanted to be angry. By the stars he wanted to rage.

“Oh dear one, we did not mean to cause you such suffering… but one of ours must bear the burden, and you who carried such spirit touched us deeply with your devotion.”

What the frag did that even mean? The voice chose him to endure life after life and seemingly didn’t anticipate that it would hurt? What a joke.

“You make me live again and again in realities that are ever changing and yet still the same. How could it not bring me pain? Why would you make me do this? I watch my people die over and over again and nothing I do seems to bring it to an end.” Grief and anger surged forward in a brief flare of rebellion. Despite that, his wrath died down all but instantaneously. Rage would earn him nothing. Not when the voice apparently commanded his reality.

“Not yet…  we cannot repair what is broken yet. But soon we will succeed. You learn and we grow.”

How ominous the voice was…

“What are you?” He asked yet again, not really expecting an answer.

“All that is and will be.”

----

For the fourth time, Optimus shot awake coughing as lingering pain from his reformat eased out of his tense and tight cables. He fell to his knees as knowledge washed over him once more. This time, however, it did not burn as it had in lives before. Knowledge was quickly filed away and understanding set in as soon as the information did. The Matrix pulsed in soothing waves, the relic finally of use in ways it had otherwise not been in prior lives. 

He was Optimus Prime, formerly Orion Pax the Archivist. He was taken from the wilds while young and raised in Iacon under Alpha Trion where he spent much of his time reviewing history and taking note of corruption. He allied himself with Megatronus of Kaon, the Gladiator. Through their combined might, they eventually developed a bond and reached the High Council. Orion was chosen to be the Prime instead of Megatron, formerly Megatronus. That single decision tore them apart and sent them spiralling into war. Only when it reached its peak had Orion gone to receive the Matrix of leadership from one familiar entity.

Primus. The god of all Cybertronians. He who made them from dust and starlight. The connection between Primus and the voice was an easy one to make, and above all, it made sense. Primus, the all knowing ever patient god of their people was bound to be the entity trying to preserve lives. Why wouldn’t he? Above all, his inexperience made sense. Primus had not even been a concept in his first life, or his second for that matter. There were whispers in his third, but they were distant things.

It seemed the god that had taken him as a champion was finally beginning to change reality in meaningful ways. The story had changed to include their creator and actually make use of the relic that continually gave Optimus back his memory.

A fascinating change indeed. One that had the potential to actually turn out the way Primus intended.

Optimus followed quietly as he was brought to his pedes and returned to base. He knew what path stood before him now. Even still, Ratchet pulling him aside as soon as time allowed surprised him for a moment before memory reminded him of who the medic was.

“Orion… are you still in there?” Ratchet touched his face, feeling his now sharper features and assessing his frame for damage. Optimus smiled, nodding as memory returned to him. Anguish for loves lost still hung in his spark, but more than anything, he felt adoration as it stirred in him. It hurt to have a partner live and vent beside him, but more than that, it healed.

“I am here… moreso now than ever.” Finally, the Matrixdid something useful and toned down the emotional weight of his extended memory. If he’d had this in his prior existence, he might not have ended things so suddenly. Poor Bumblebee likely felt horrible, if he was still online at any rate.

“The Matrix, what has it done to you?” Ratchet's question was sharp, but still tender in his unique way as he looked at Optimus’s chassis accusingly. Optimus fought back laughter that he had not known since his first life.

“Memory, Ratchet. So much memory…” With a smile, Optimus pressed a kiss to Ratchet’s brow, reveling in the closeness of one he held so dear. This was what he needed. Time, composure, and connection. Primus truly was developing.

“I remember loves from lives that were not this one. I recall battles, wars and death so great the bodies coated the earth.” Ratchet held him tighter as Optimus’s field, a new addition to his biology, flared out in sheer relief and joy. For all the sorrows he endured, it all seemed less important when he was with his love, at least for this life.

“I remember the torment of not knowing… and now the grief of revelation.” Ratchet stiffened at his statement, likely running through a thousand grim scenarios in his processor. Optimus saw no need to correct him since it earned him a tighter hug.

“I’m here, Orion. I’m here.” Ratchet, in a rare show of open affection, did his best to soothe. Optimus returned the gesture by resting his chin on his dear doctor’s helm, enjoying the closeness. 

“Of that, I am more thankful than I can properly express… it has been so long.” Ratchet’s field flared in concern as Optimus pulled away to look out the nearest window and out at the stars. Oh how he loved the stars…

“I now understand my design.” Primus did not wish for death. He desired life. 

Lucky for him, Optimus’s memory from his current existence supplied him with countless plans for victory. If all went well, the war would come to a close in short order and he would finally be free of Primus’s grand mission.

However, unfortunately for Optimus’s grand aspirations, the war dragged on despite his knowledge. His newest Megatron was a cunning creature backed by strength and age. His followers were just as intelligent, and no matter what Optimus threw at them, they adapted. His efforts were useless when pitted against such wrath.

As the war went, Optimus felt his chances of success dwindling. By the time they got to Earth with their conflict, he was fairly certain Primus would have him try again. Even still, he managed to salvage the situation. With Ratchet by his side and his team supporting him, restoration was made possible. Optimus was even revived as he had been once in his first life to facilitate the repairs being made to their home. He took that to mean Primus was at least partially pleased with the outcome, even if Megatron was still out there lurking and Unicron cursed.

The people mourned the dead, and Optimus certainly felt weariness in his core. But the war was over, Autobot and Decepticon were coming together, and if all went well, Cybertron was to be fully functional in a few centuries. Was it ideal? No. But there was hope to be found.

“Optimus, are you coming to berth or not?” Ratchet tapped his pede impatiently as Optimus waved Bumblebee off as he set toward Earth for another diplomatic mission. He smiled, content with his situation as he responded.

“In a bit, beloved.” Watching the space bridge close was strangely calming. Millennia of war, and for once, he wasn’t about to die on a battlefield or alone drowning in grief. He’d played his part, even if the loss of life still weighed on him in the dead of night.

“Berth. Now.” Ratchet looked more annoyed than truly upset. Optimus couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the expression his dear doctor was making as he obeyed the given order.

“Very well.” Wrapping an arm around Ratchet’s waist, he guided them both to their habsuite. He settled quietly, pressing a kiss to Ratchet’s audial and watching as his love drifted off for a while. It was peaceful, a blessed relief.

As his optics closed, Optimus smiled. Megatron was still a threat, but he was finally done with his mission-

“I died?” Optimus couldn’t help but gawk as he found himself in the void once more. He tried to think about what happened, but he got the distinct impression his death was not a natural one. What was Ratchet going to think? By the Thirteen, what went wrong?

“It was not intended. But we expected it sooner or later. Your work is not yet done.”

What? Had he not restored Cybertron? It was an imperfect restoration and the war still occurred, but all was as it was meant to be.

“Why did you restore me if I was simply to die and do it all again?” He wasn’t necessarily upset this time. Just… confused. He’d had his moment of peace, but why did Primus see fit to try again? The people were happy, or at least getting there.

“We believed we might salvage what remained. We did, and you fought well.”

Optimus internally sighed. He knew how this was going to go. 

“But we lament the loss of life. We grieve over what could have been. So many children… extinguished so young.”

Primus was a god, but he was, at his core, something above mortality. He had no reason to understand loss like Optimus and the rest did. Of course he grieved. To him it was likely a numbers game.

“I know what you are now, Primus. Why do you continue to strive for this strange perfection? Cybertron was restored. The people were happy. Why have me do it all again?” He tried to express his concerns, but Primus seemed to be displeased as he responded, his voice firmer than before.

“Your other half falls to our counterpart time and time again. Our children are massacred when it is not needed. If it can be prevented, then we wish it so.”

So that was how it was going to be. Perfection, or nothing at all. Optimus could already feel exhaustion settling in.

“Go. Try again. Soon… we will make things right.”

----

Waking was easier this time. The reality Primus made was much like his first, and as such, Optimus knew how to act quickly. He went straight for Megatron, charging in with all his knowledge and experience. He had no love to hold him back and his happier existence prior to his current one eased the grief enough for him to focus. Even still, the war occurred. Megatron seemed to become more intelligent every time they met in a new life. Perhaps it was an equalization factor. Regardless, war came without an end in sight.

At least until Optimus beat Megatron in a duel, earning their people a tentative peace under a Council made up of an Autobot, a Decepticon, and a neutral party. Optimus was fairly certain Primus would not be pleased despite Cybertron largely avoiding complete desolation and chose to isolate himself to keep away from further incidents. He could have ended himself, but he saw no need. He took the time to simply live, helping where he could and keeping Megatron in line when he wasn’t doing that.

He let life pass him by, at least until Windblade arrived, speaking of Titans and war. That was when he knew it was time to act, and he did so without complaint. He didn’t even mind working with Megatron. It was just like old times, like when he and Megatronus talked over revolution matters. Although, much to Optimus’s agitation, his current Megatron was beyond fond of prodding at his emotional weak points.

Despite that, there were times when he enjoyed conversing with the glitch.

“I asked once, in another life, why you did all this.” Optimus stood quietly, watching the stars just as he always did. Megatron huffed as he cleaned his blaster, the only part of his body he seemed to actually give a frag about.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Megatron snarked, his optics never leaving his weapon.

“Why did you rise up? Why did you go to war? You had the whole world before you, and you chose to burn it down.” It was a question Optimus recalled asking his first Megatron, only to get laughed at in response. His second Megatron spoke of corruption, his third was a jealous creature, and his fourth had legitimate reasons for waging war. But his current one and the first? He never really understood, even though they were technically the same mech in many regards.

“Hmm… I would think you would know the answer to this, Prime.” Optimus sighed, expecting laughter.

“Power?”

“To a degree.” Megatron’s response earned a momentary glance from Optimus, his finials twitching in mild surprise.

“I wanted the power to change the world, to mold it in my image.” Megatron, smug as ever, crossed his arms and gestured out to the planet they were now attempting to save from itself. Optimus followed his gaze, but he still found himself questioning.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t like the way things were, or the corruption that set into our society.” Megatron huffed, clearly quite pleased with his answer. Optimus however found himself more contemplative. He knew how to see corruption after so many lives, but he still wondered…

How much had he missed?

“Was that corruption always there?” He pondered aloud, more to himself than the mech next to him as he ran through ancient memory. It was blurry now. Distant and no longer as applicable.

“Of course it was. You were just so lost in your little dock worker world that you couldn’t see it.” Megatron, either not knowing the question was not aimed at him or not caring, responded with a huff. He gestured to Optimus in a dismissive manner, and that was enough for Optimus to think back on his life, back to Elita.

Their lives were simple. Of course they failed to see corruption.

“You fought for freedom?” Optimus wondered more and more if they were truly the same mech given different paths to walk. Megatronus was similar to Orion Pax in many ways. Was that simply an aspect of his and Megatron’s relationship?

“In a sense. I wanted every mech to be able to choose their future for themselves.” That was very Megatronus of him. It seemed it was not only Primus who was learning.

“Then why were we fighting at all?” Optimus took the chance to step a little closer, remembering nights spent with his Lord High Protector in his third life. He missed his brother, even if the glitch was a pain in the aft.

“Because you were a fraggin pacifist and a weepy newbuild until I beat some sense into you. By then your Autobots were dead set on the destruction of my Decepticons.” Megatron punched him in the shoulder. Optimus simply sighed. He’d forgotten how much of a brute his first life’s Megatron could be when not otherwise engaged.

“For what it’s worth, I apologize for how our war ended. I wanted to end the needless death.” His attempt at apologizing was met with laughter, a mirror to his end lifetimes ago.

“And instead you brought more. How comical.” Megatron slapped his back in what could have been a friendly manner if not for the force behind it. Optimus internally cringed, but allowed it. How familiar this all was.

“You are the worst.” His comment was met with even more laughter, to which Optimus simply walked away.

When the time came for him to die for his people, Optimus took the burden without complaint. He was done anyway.

And just as predicted, Primus met him once more.

“You did better this time. But still not enough. Too many died. Too many children lost to war.”

Optimus didn’t even have the energy to be surprised.

“You seek the impossible, Primus. No matter what you do to me or how you reforge reality, war is inevitable.” Attempting reason was likely impossible, but Optimus gave it his best shot. Perfection was impossible, but here Primus was, trying anyway. Granted, if anyone was to aim for such a thing, it was only really plausible for a god to pursue such a goal.

“Not so. We will make it right.”

But at what price?

“I remember too late to change things if I have a relationship with Megatron. And if I do not, I hold no sway over him.” Again, Optimus put forward his objections. Anyone from his prior lives would have likely gawked at him, save for perhaps Ratchet, his ever faithful atheist.

“We know. We are learning. Soon, all will be as it should be.”

That much Optimus could attest to. It was already far easier to operate than it had been the first few times. Still, he didn’t want to do this forever. He’d had moments of peace and he wanted them back.

“I’m tired. I want to return to those I have loved. Elita, Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet… I miss them. I miss the versions of them I adored.” He sensed waves of understanding from his god, but Primus spoke all the same.

“We will give them all to you when the work is done.”

That was a pleasant promise, if nothing else.

“Stop the war. Stop the death. Stop your counterpart from falling. That is your design.”

----

Another life, another awakening. Optimus tried his best, especially since reality was again similar to his first life. But guiding and succeeding were two very different things, and war seemed to be inevitable. He wasn’t able to put a stop to it, so he simply resolved to observe as Bumblebee and Windblade worked. He did offer his assistance when the Quintessons came and the Tarn from another time popped out of the void, but more often he preferred to watch. Especially since he got humorous commentary from Megatron when they weren’t at each other’s throats.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… why is it that you’re always so-” Megatron, between sips of his drink, gestured vaguely to Optimus’s form. Optimus chuckled, leaning back in his seat a bit as he and Megatron sat observing the city. It was still on fire in places, but it wasn’t exactly their problem. They tended to cause more trouble when they did anything outside of combat.

“Aloof? Uncaring? I don’t know how to describe it.” Megatron tried to find the words for his question. Optimus politely did not interrupt as he nursed his energon, content to be since he knew his current life was a failure anyway.

“You always preach your talking points about freedom and all that, but I never see any drive in you. It’s boiled my energon since the war began.” His once foe huffed into his drink, seemingly annoyed. Optimus saw through it easily, noting the genuine curiosity there. They both had secrets, but Megatron was never one to leave them alone.

“Because for me, there is no point in passion. I failed in my only purpose long before I took the Matrix.” Optimus, having long since grown apathetic to anything and everything related to his continual existence, shrugged. “What in the Allspark are you talking about?” Megatron made a face that was worthy of the human ‘memes’. Optimus fought to keep his composure as he tried to keep it serious and failed, at least in part. He was unable to keep from smiling, despite the situation.

“I have loved and lost, Megatron. I have done all I could to try and prevent war… but I always arrive too late to change things.” Taking the chance to chug his glass, Optimus sighed in contentment. Warm energon really was the best. Living so long, one learned to appreciate the little things.

“You… what are you?” Optimus raised an optical ridge in mild surprise as he looked up at his former rival. Megatron was glaring at him, not necessarily in anger, but suspicion. 

“You sense it?” 

“I always knew there was something off with you. So spit it out, what are you? What happened to Orion Pax?” Well that was an odd way to phrase the question, but who was Optimus to judge. The Archivist in him probably would have asked something similar.

“He is me and I am him. Except one of us is wiser. One of us remembers realities that have long ended.” Keeping the answer as simple as he could without giving Megatron an existential crisis, Optimus put down his now empty cube and casually checked his HUD for anything important before continuing.

“One of us cannot rest until we prevent the Great War.” That was about the best way he had to describe it. Until he remembered, he was just an idealistic fool with far too much ambition.

“Unmaker cursed?” Megatron, with all the subtlety of a Titan in a city, squinted as he made his accusation only barely veiled as a question.

“No, the opposite.” Taking it in stride, Optimus kept his answer simple.

“Slag… that’s worse.” That was putting it lightly. At least he understood.

“I can know no rest until I stop the war before it can start… and keep you from falling to the Unmaker’s touch.” Optimus gave Megatron a look without really meaning to. It was more of a sidequest at this point in his long life, but he was getting tired of having to divert Megatron away from drugs or other less than pleasant curses.

“Why would I-?”

“Other versions of yourself were desperate. Far more desperate… they needed strength and knowledge, so they sought it where they could.” Instantly, Optimus thought back to his fourth Megatron. That mech was a monster in many ways, especially when high as a kite on the Unmaker’s blood.

“Have you told anyone else about this?” Megatron, with a surprising amount of concern evident in his tone, crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. Optimus regarded him quietly for a moment, unsure if he should respond. However, after a klik, he concluded there was no harm in it.

“No. Even if they believed me, there is no stopping it. When I die, Primus shall restore me to life in another time and place to attempt to stop the war… to stop you.” Saying it out loud was… rather depressing. The air grew heavier in response, and Optimus almost regretted opening his mouth. 

“Sounds lonely.” And then Megatron came out of nowhere with a strange amount of sympathy.

“It is. But I take comfort in lives like these… ones that are lighter on my spark.” Trying to stay positive and not think hard on the grimness of his situation, Optimus smiled. Megatron didn’t seem to buy it, but played into it anyway.

“How about you tell me about the other versions of me out there. Get it off your chassis for a while, eh?” Bless him, he was kinder than the rest.

Life went on after that, with things changing and Cybertron being saved a few times. Eventually, Optimus got tired of it all and let an assassin get to him. But his return to the void created a whole new set of problems.

“You did not use this life wisely.”

And there came the disappointment.

“You sent me too late. I cannot work with nothing.” Too tired to be upset, Optimus mentally projected a shrug. He wasn’t sure if it went through, but he hoped it did if only for his amusement.

“It is your duty to do this work. We give you wisdom and opportunity. Why do you struggle so?”

Oh to be a god and not understand mortality.

“I share next to nothing in common with Megatron. I cannot stop a war if I cannot relate to its leader. I certainly can’t kill him when we are always near equal in strength. We are too different… and even with knowledge, it means nothing if I can’t make him see reason.” Optimus expected exactly nothing from his attempt at reason, but to his surprise, Primus paused. Things went quiet for a while, long enough that he momentarily wondered if his god had up and chosen a new champion. Then, Primus’s voice returned with renewed energy.

“We have never rewritten the world in such a way. Your counterpart was always meant to be so. Different, unique.”

By the thirteen, he’d managed to make Primus see some reason.

“We can come from the same roots and still have a chance to be different. Please, if you want this war to end before it can start, you must put me with him when we begin. I need time.” Internally crossing his digits, knocking on the organic substance of wood, and praying to every version of the thirteen he knew of, Optimus threw out his request.

“Then it shall be so. We have eternity to complete this work.”

Fraggin yes.

----

Waking was no longer a stressful thing. Optimus came into being, knew he was fragged, and waged war as usual. The shared origins helped, and he did his best to make the most of it, but Primus was a fickle being on a good cycle, and Optimus knew this was a test run more than anything else. Being a miner had sucked, but it gave him and Megatron connection that finally manifested itself vorns upon vorns later on Earth when, in a grand middle finger to every other Megatron, Optimus managed to convince his foe to side with him.

It was brilliant, and for the first time in forever, Optimus was outwardly joking and having a fantastic time as he waited for the end. Sure, he probably could have been doing more, but he didn’t feel the need to. He’d tested his theory. Shared origins were perfect. Now he just needed to get the Matrix and his memory at a better time.

Until he kicked the can, he was more than happy to watch as Primus’s newest additions to reality bounded and played, goofing off with their human family. Optimus personally found it odd and wouldn’t have made the choice himself if he were Primus, but it wasn’t exactly his problem. Wait, watch, observe, step in if need be, and wait to try again.

But of course, waiting was boring without company, and it had been many vorns since he’d taken a lover of any variety. He considered Elita, but his version was too different from the one he knew from his first life to really sit well with him. Instead he went for a thrill in Starscream of all mecha.

Quite frankly he enjoyed the wild card attitude, especially when they were attempting to be domestic.

“I don’t think I’m going to have to fight for much longer.” Optimus remarked as he fiddled with his ration. He almost wanted to poke holes in it for fun, but the older and more bitter aspects of his personality shut that idea down quickly.

“Oh really?” Starscream snarked from across the table, likely thinking about their current affairs. Optimus smiled fondly as he pulled out his favorite tactic to mess with mecha aside from using human tech incorrectly for fun.

“You will not understand… but Primus has learned. He’s setting the pieces right. Soon I expect he will give me the proper setting to do as he desires.” Letting his voice drop an octave, Optimus leaned into the ominousness of his time as the archivist. Starscream was unimpressed and threw a spoon at him.

“Stop talking like you are right out of the fragging Covenant. What are you trying to say?” Ah, Starscream was so refreshing.

“It may not be in this life or the next, but sometime in the near future, there will be no war.” Optimus lost a bit of his jesting attitude as he fiddled further with his ration. So many lives lived in rage and confusion… soon it would all be over. How strange that feeling was.

“Sure Optimus. Keep dreaming and using your emojis.” Starscream rolled his optics and chugged his drink before sauntering over in a familiar demand for intimacy, one which normally began with threats of violence.

“Now are you going to eat that or should I?” Optimus smiled, letting Starscream drape himself over his shoulders like a makeshift cape. Things could be worse.

He just had to wait.

And wait he did, until the time came for him to give his life to open the space bridge back to Cybertron. It was an easy choice to make, and Optimus went with a cheery whistle.

“Almost. My design improves once more.” 

Primus’s voice was more composed than it had been. His intentions seemed clearer, his emotions less out of sorts.

“So you are singular now?” Optimus noted the change in interest. Primus had gone through some changes, and so had he it seemed.

“I have grown, my chosen. Through your optics I have seen, and with your aid, I now know what I must do.”

So it had all been worth it. That was… relieving. The memories of toil and struggle from his first few lives eased dramatically in the back of his mind as Optimus considered. If Primus had things right… then he would soon rest.

“You promised me my loved ones. Will I have them this time?” It was hopeful and presumptuous, but he had to ask.

“Yes. The world is changed once more, and now all is as it should be. Act swiftly, my chosen. For the time to end this great war is upon us.”

Optimus’s spark flared in sheer determination as the first real confirmation of anything he’d had since his mission began. This was his chance then. No more waiting. No more wars. No more long agonizing realities where all he had to do aside from suffer was perish.

“When my work is done, do I have to remember all of this suffering? All the pain I have endured?” Part of him didn’t want to forget the few moments of joy he’d experienced, especially in his time as the archivist and onward. But the rest of him was tired. So very tired. He laughed and joked in recent lives, but that was more to cope.

He was done with all of this.

“No. Once the threat has been averted, I shall take from you the torment you have endured for the sake of my progression.”

At least Primus was kind enough to offer him that much for his service.

“Will I see you again?” He doubted he’d miss the mission or the void, but there was a certain comfort in Primus’s presence. He did not wish to simply cease being at the end of it all. 

“My chosen, I have always been with you. That shall never change.”

Worries he had not known eased into nothing and Optimus found himself calm as the cycle he’d first been forged. Everything was going to be alright now.

“My thirteenth Prime… my chosen champion… go now and complete this great work.”

Primus’s voice washed over him, firm and adoring as the void faded.

“You have served me long enough.”

----

Wakefulness came in a flash, and it settled quickly. Optimus shot toward the surface, fueled by Primus’s intervention and the Matrix’s power. When he landed, he locked optics with the one mech who mattered most for the sake of his success. Megatron, his eternal foe and rival.

They clashed, but wisdom guided Optimus to victory. As Megatron fell to his knees in defeat, Optimus was quick to pull him up and into a hug. Memory from his current life urged him on, encouraging him to hold his closest companion tight. D-16 was a kind spark, and he did not deserve a life of violence.

“You’ve done enough. I’m sorry I could not stand with you when you needed me most.” The mech in his arms tensed, rage etched onto his features as he pulled away, albeit with reluctance.

“How could you? How could you defend him?!” Megatron shook, gesturing toward where Sentinel’s body lay. Optimus was unphased. He’d seen far worse versions of D-16. He knew that the mech before him still had a chance.

“I was scared for you, Dee. I do not wish to fight you. Please, don’t make me.” The words came easily, emotions of all his lives imbuing his every glyph with honesty. Never once had he wanted war, and that fact had not changed.

“You betrayed me.” Megatron bristled, clutching at his damaged arm. Optimus took the chance to step forward, reaching out with all the kindness he could muster. This mech, his Dee, was just a scared newbuild. He’d been exposed to too much all at once.

He needed rest and support.

Those things Optimus could offer him.

“Perhaps I did… but no others need to suffer because of the sins of our ancestors. Let it end here, with us.” He hesitated a moment, considering if this was going to be the moment he messed it all up. Would he have to live again? Another life in another reality? What would Primus think of him if he failed here? Would he be alone?

A thousand thoughts raged, but ultimately, Optimus found the will to grasp Megatron’s servo firmly, but not so much as to be seen as a threat. It was a symbol of peace, one he hoped his companion saw.

“Let us stand together as one.” More hesitation, this time from Megatron. But as Optimus watched, he saw how those vicious red optics eased into orange, then back to a calm yellow. Silence followed as D-16 considered. Optimus could almost feel the whole world weighing on him as he waited with a baited vent.

Then, blessedly, D-16 squeezed his servo back.

“We will talk.” Sheer joy flooded Optimus’s spark as lives upon lives of relief washed over him. In his excitement, he drew D-16 in for another hug, clutching at him almost desperately. Finally, finally, he was going to be free.

“Thank you.” Releasing his hold after a moment, Optimus smiled as he had not in eons and parted his chassis plating so that the Matrix shone clearly. D-16 regarded him suspiciously until Optimus took the Matrix in his servo and grabbed D-16 with the other. Guiding his brother in arms to grasp the ancient relic, Optimus raised both their arms to the skies, a symbol he hoped conveyed unity.

The masses watched in awe, the High Guard stalling in their attacks. In that brief moment, Optimus sensed confirmation from deep within his being. Locks began to settle into place. Memories dimmed.

“You have done well, my chosen.”

At last, his mission was complete.

[theambitiouswoman]

11 Lessons from the book Atomic Habits 🌟

"Atomic Habits" focuses on incorporating small, consistent habits into our lives to bring about significant change over time. The book introduces a four-step model for building habits, emphasizing cues, cravings, responses, and rewards. It also guides you in overcoming bad habits and self-limiting beliefs, demonstrating how simple habits can lead to substantial progress toward our goals.

Lesson 1: Habits Over Hobbies: You are not inherently bad at your hobbies. Instead, it's the lack of consistent habits that has held you back.

Lesson 2: Identity Matters: Our self-image greatly influences our habits. While it's important, you shouldn't let it hinder your growth.

Lesson 3: Stacking Habits: The concept of habit stacking involves adding a new behavior to an existing habit, which can help you build a more effective morning routine.

Lesson 4: Embrace the System: Rather than solely focusing on goals, it's important to love the process—the journey itself. It's about embracing the system that leads to progress.

Lesson 5: Something is Better Than Nothing: Even small efforts are valuable. The "Two-Minute Rule" encourages starting new habits that take less than two minutes.

Lesson 6: Overcoming Boredom: Staying motivated in habits requires keeping them interesting and within the right level of challenge. "The Goldilocks Rule" emphasizes that tasks on the edge of our abilities are most motivating. Habits won't always be exciting, and that's okay.

Lesson 7: Bouncing Back from Misses: Missing a habit occasionally is normal, but missing it twice can turn into a new habit. The key is to rebound quickly, maintaining the compound gains from previous good days.

Lesson 8: Shaping Your Potential: Our genes affect what we're good at and the chances we get. Instead of feeling stuck by genes, we should use our strengths. Special traits are like superpowers. Questions in the chapter help us find what we care about. Quotes remind us to focus on self-improvement, not comparing. Genes alone don't bring success; effort matters. Genes give hints, but we shape our success by using our strengths.

Lesson 9: Creating a Supportive Environment: Our surroundings are important. If we change our environment to match the habits we want, we're more likely to succeed. By setting up our space to help our habits, we can make good habits easier. People often limit themselves by thinking they can't do better. He also says that just luck doesn't explain success – hard work does. Whether it's moving stuff around or using visual reminders, these changes can really help us succeed in the long run.

Lesson 10: Creating or Breaking Habits: The Four Steps

These four steps are the foundation upon which many of his ideas are built. They are not only applicable to creating positive habits but also to breaking negative ones.

Cue: This is the trigger that initiates a behavior. It can be a specific time, location, emotional state, or preceding action that prompts your brain to start a habit.

Craving: Craving is the motivation or desire behind a habit. It's the feeling that drives you to engage in the behavior triggered by the cue. It's important to understand the underlying craving to effectively change a habit.

Response: Response refers to the actual behavior that you perform as a result of the cue and craving. This is the action that you take in response to the trigger and motivation.

Reward: Rewards are the positive outcomes or feelings that you associate with completing the habit. They reinforce the habit loop by making you more likely to repeat the behavior in the future.

He explains that these four steps form a habit loop, where each step is interconnected. The loop starts with a cue, followed by craving, which leads to a response, and ultimately ends with a reward. If any part of this loop isn't satisfying, the habit is less likely to stick.

Lesson 11: Success is a product of daily habits and overnight success is not overnight:

Success is not a result of overnight transformations but is instead rooted in the daily habits we cultivate. By recognizing the power of consistent, incremental actions, we can build a solid foundation for lasting success. This perspective challenges the allure of instant success and encourages us to focus on the journey of continuous improvement through daily habits.

[ckret2]

I cannot wait to hear your thoughts on the poem about Euclydia/Bill's origins that Alex revealed at the end of the livestream! I immediately thought of your fic while reading it.

had to go dig up the poem so i'm including a link

it's basically what we already knew about his backstory set to rhyme, but there's a tiny smattering of new details and they're all good news to me.

Referring specifically to his attempts to talk about the third dimension as "preaching"? Check

Saying he "divided" his home—implying that a fair amount of people believed in him? Check

Confirming that he did what he did primarily for praise & attention—"for their sweet applause"? Check

It doesn't say he was a cult leader but it sure does add plenty more evidence you can use to say he could be—we're tilting ever closer to that being his most likely history. Another tally in the Yet Another Way This Fic I Started Over A Year Before TBOB Came Out Is Terrifyingly TBOB Compatible column.

I'm assuming that calling the other Euclideans "blind" is metaphorical (ignorant/specifically unable to see the third dimension) rather than literal—they seemed to have a concept of pictures, and the code that's consistently used to represent Euclideans speaking is a color code. And like... why would they have optometrists? Particularly with reading charts if vision is so rare that they'd have no reason to develop a visual language? How would a patient even be able to read the chart if they probably never had a teacher who could teach them to read a visual language??

Or, maybe when the poem was written, it was meant literally, and that's just a worldbuilding idea that was left on the cutting room floor along with the poem itself.

I also wonder if "town" is meant literally or if it was just chosen because it rhymes with "down" ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I've wondered how large Euclydia is since we found that poem on TINAWDC—if they say that going off the top of the dimension makes you pop up on the bottom and off the left side makes you pop up on the right, then that must mean it's small enough that its people have traveled to its furthest boundaries and looped back to where they started. And the highest authority we've heard of from his dimension is the "mayor". Maybe Euclydia is the size of a town. Would definitely lend credence to it feeling restrictive, especially to someone who can see how much space there is outside of it.

Personally, I still think Euclydia's much larger—the first time Bill represents it, he depicts it as a planet, and we see that same planet again in TBOB—but you could make a case for it being tiny with no firm evidence to disprove the theory.

[ipso-faculty]

Infinity symbols: a guide to their variations

Infinity symbols are popular in graphic design for good reason. In this post, I'm gonna describe ways to vary up the designs of infinity symbols. My goal is to educate fellow neurodivergent people on how to make infinity symbols that don't look like the Métis flag.

The neurodiversity community has been using rainbow infinity symbols since 2005. Here are neurodiversity flags from 2013, 2016, and 2019:

However, there's a problem with some of the new flag designs for a flag that is autism-specific. Here are some of the contenders:

These use a solid white infinity symbol. The solid white infinity curve is a symbol of Métis.

The Métis flag, created in 1815, has a white lemniscate on red background. Nowadays the Métis use the blue version more often. And to the right is the Métis queer pride flag:

For those unfamiliar, the Métis are one of the major Indigenous groups in what is now Canada, with most of their >600,000 population in the western and central parts of the country. The word métis means half-breed in French; lower-case m métis refers to those with mixed Indigenous and European ancestry. Capital-M Métis refers to the specific culture of métis that emerged, distinct from both Indigenous and settler cultures, and speaking hybrid languages such as Michif.

The issue of likeness has been brought up many times. While I can believe the autistic flag makers didn't know about the issue when making their designs, I know at least one of them was promptly informed of the issue and dismissed it.

The autistic community writ large has been pretty dismissive about this issue. I wonder if some of the defensiveness comes from not seeing an alternative - thinking that infinity symbol design is all or nothing.

I have some good news: it's possible to make infinity symbols that don't look Métis!

HOW INFINITY SYMBOLS VARY (PART ONE)

ASPECT A: TOPOLOGY

The first way we can categorize infinity symbols is their topology. These four varieties are most common

Topology 1: Open infinity symbol - this is the oldest style of using a figure-8 shape to represent the mathematical concept of infinity. On the left is the version Euler used.

-

Topology 2: Lemniscate - a closed curve. On the left is the Metis flag. The curve is one solid entity: notice how the rainbow gradient on the right fills the whole thing.

-

Topology 3: Infinity *loop* -  imagine you take a hair tie or rubber band and twist it. One part of the infinity loop is clearly in front, with another part clearly behind it. Loops are well established for neurodiversity and I think we should stick to using these.

Notice in the left example how the pattern flips between left and right. Also compare the rainbow gradient on the right to the lemniscate rainbow gradient above it. -

Topology 4: Infinity *ribbon* -  instead of a hair tie, use a ribbon. Ribbons have sides, producing an infinity loop that shows two sides.

-

ASPECT B: THICKNESS

Line width can vary, which also helps to convey a loop! Again, I think we should be sticking to infinity loops when it comes to autistic/ND designs.

Option 1: Constant Thickness The lemniscate on the Metis flag has a constant line width, as does this neurodiversity rainbow gradient from 2016. I think we should avoid constant thickness.

-

Option 2: Variable Thickness A variable thickness can help to reinforce that an infinity symbol is a loop rather than a solid lemniscate. There are a lot of ways to play with line thickness!

Many neurodiversity infinities are variable thickness and I think we should opt for this to steer clear of Metis territory.

THIS WILL BE CONTINUED IN A SECOND POST (tumblr has a limit of 30 images per post)

But just in case the second post gets lost in reblogs: I think variable thickness, combined with a loop topology, is what we should be using for neurodiversity & autism. E.g.

CONTINUED IN NEXT POST

[oh-no-its-bird]

Mayhaps I want to ask about "genderfuck"

From this ask meme

Oh this is a fun one actually, like, in my heart. It's also an Ichigo one, full disclaimer, so

SUMMARY // Hatake Ichigo and the trials and tribulations of being a shinobi girl hitting puberty, who just so happened to have been born a boy. --- "Maybe I should just castrate myself." Ichigo sniffled. "Ichigo," Her mother sighed, still patient. "You are not allowed to try and castrate yourself till at least 20." "But it'll be too late by then!" She wailed.

I think I might have already posted this one snippet of it bc I remember thinking it was funny, but oh well Ill just post it anyways if that is the case.

But like, eunuch Hikaku mention:

"I bet Hikaku-sama would know how to castrate someone." Ichigo mumbled, kicking at the floor dejectedly, and her mother paused. "Why in the world would Uchiha Hikaku know how to safely castrate someone?" Ichigo stared at her mother blankly, who stared back with an equally confused expression. "Um, cuz he's a eunuch, right?" "Excuse me?" Ichigo frowned. "He had to chop of his own thing, for some mission in the Daimyo's court or something, right? Before he became clan heir?" "Where did you hear that?" "The twins told me!" Ichigo scowled, oddly miffed by her mother's doubt. "And you believed them?" Ichigo planted her fists on her hips. "Well when I asked Kagami, he believed it too! And every time after that when I mentioned it to people, no one argued!" "Hatake Ichigo," her mother began, setting down her knife with a soft clack onto the cutting board. Ichigo froze at her mothers dangerously level tone. "Have you been going around telling people that the Uchiha clan heir is a eunuch." "Um." Was all she could manage, finally realizing she may have messed up. Just a bit.

Anyways I thought it'd be fun to tackle being trans specifically set in early konoha, and all take a fun little peek at all the world building aspects I could possibly dig into with it!

I have an older post still buried in my drafts about my takes on how it's interesting to think ab how Konoha developing as a village might have impacted the trans experience of its shinobi and civillians— specifically from the standpoint of paperwork.

Thinking something along the lines of, earlier konoha had more unregistered home births and messy paperwork that also made it very easy to go in and change details of by simply going to an office and saying "Hey btw my mom filled out this form wrong when I was born. I'm a girl just so u know." And you'll just kinda get a shrug and a "oh ok cool, I'll change that then"

Vs more modern Konoha where you might get some more complicated loops to jump through and extra paperwork stating specifically that you are trans and would like to Officially Request (tm) a change in the presenting gender listed on your file and also would you like to sign up for our hormone therapy or any gender affirming surgery?

Just like. Thinking ab the little things and progression and changes through time (none specifically good or bad) at how things are done depending on the state of the village. Fun to think about

Sorry anyways:

For this oneshot, if I ever continue it, I also would have fun in playing with how different clans and groups see gender.

Like, Ichigo goes to the Orochi who are rather infamously gender apathetic and kinda just do their own thing as part of their clan culture.

The Shiranui make a cameo with their concepts of how gender can be used as a weapon and presenting yourself certain ways is just another tool in the box to play with for a shinobi

The Inuzuka come in w their matriarchal clan to talk ab the concept of womanhood or smthn quirky like that, I'm not too sure yet but I think it'd be neat if they were there

Just. Having fun exploring the ways different clans and their cultures view and interact with gender. Some clans are welcome to the concept of trans people, some clans legit just don't care, some clans have trans ideas built into their identity, others might think it a bit strange but ultimately not their buisness, etc.

Then also the differences between how shinobi clans treat gender and transness vs how civilians treat it (w the shinobi caring a whole lot less ab it all. Probably bc they have other things to worry about)

Early Konoha is already so ripe w potential as a melting pot of cultures meeting for the first time ever ,,, I wanna play with it.

I will say tho going into it and still now, I kinda just plan on steering clear of transphobia— if it were to appear it'd be in flashes and get a "damn, that's crazy. Anyways." Reaction from Ichigo as she goes back to asking Tobirama if he has a cure for her growing a beard

I like playing things as straight as possible and really leaning hard into "ok but what are ALL the reactions I can get out of this and how do I play with them" but I kinda just. Don't wanna write that. This'd be a fun, silly comedy about a ninja girl learning ab shinobi clan history and gender culture and I will indulge myself on that

ANYWAYS ! thank u for playing the ask game w me Domoz, sorry I dive bombed u w Ichigo for ur reply rip

[avissapiens]

Himbull Summer 2024

(Long post ahead but worth the read)

I was intending to do something like this again this year but a previous ask really started the gears turning into motion. I really consider last year’s Jockbull summer experiment to be one of the most impactful changes I've made in a lot of ways. I’m still feeling some of the impacts and changes in my life on a permanent basis. I’ve got new friends I made through the process, new appreciation of style and whole new skillsets that I wouldn't have developed otherwise. Which is why I'm super excited to do this again but with a few adjustments to refine the concept and hopefully reap even deeper rewards for my own growth. I will be running this from Nov 15th 2024 - Feb 15th 2025.

I’ll explain some of the adjustments very briefly before I explain the plan and how you all will be able to interact with it.

We’ve cut down from 15 tasks over 3 plans to just 8 over 2. 

This year by popular demand the archetype’s I’ll work on growing and encapsulating will be Himbo and Bull. This was voted on by the lovely paid Patreon supporters. With the final votes looking like this

I will only be doing 1 plan with a partner this year. That partner is Abgsado as we did last year and you all can keep track of his progress on discord in his own dedicated channel.

The plans

As I noted above this year rather than 3 plans of 5 tasks we only have 2 plans of 4.  15 tasks was way too much as evidenced by the fact that I would regularly only get a fraction done.

PLAN A

This is the more Bull-centric side of the Himbull summer, focused not just on taking the most of this current bulking period, but also on expanding and centering my mind to possibilities for growth. This is the plan Abg and I developed together using a structure of 1 personal task, 1 task granted by the other, 1 task we compete at, and 1 task where we took some inspiration from the discord community.

Task 1 is my personal task and will involve a stronger supplementation regime with the goal of increasing anabolism, libido, strength and focus over the coming months. What that entails on a practical basis is cycling 2 new supplements into my routine every month. Recording notable changes or improvements from baseline. And keeping consistent dosing schedules.

Task 2  was granted by Abg and focuses on playing around with atypical perspectives and archetypes for growth and change outside of my usual 5/6. I intend to do that by creating some more improvisational mini trances exploring some new growth/corruption-adjacent ideals. These will also be on a biweekly schedule and depending on how I feel released at different levels of exclusivity.

Task 3 is the competitive task for both Abg and I. We both want to expand our fitness socials on sites like Instagram and shift ourselves more into the muscle lifestyle sphere of influence.

Task 4 is the task synthesized from suggestions from discord. We’re gonna fuse the Himbo and Bull gym loops together and dedicate ourselves to listening to it on 2 training days per week. Let ourselves really get mindfucked by the muscle chaos.

PLAN B

 This is the more himbo coded plan. No specific structure however for this set 1 is a personal task and 3 were given by some of my top-tier himbo advisors. So big thanks to them, including @thejockout. Task 1 is the personal task. Similar to last year’s task regarding disposing of certain clothes, this year is going to be about purchasing things that I think are gonna draw more attention my way. I’m gonna aim for a new Himbo Aesthetic component every 2 weeks. And I’m going to force myself to wear each component at least twice in public, not just at the gym.

Task 2 is about making semi-permanent changes to my look in some form or fashion, beyond just clothes. These are gonna be fairly big so i think i might do them on a Monthly or maybe tri-weekly basis so i get 3-4 Big changes out of the process. Bit scared for this one.

Task 3 is gonna be interesting. It’s about putting myself forward to be used as a muscular physical being more often. Lifting, pushing, carrying. Doing the physical aspects of work. Very golden retriever farm boy himbo. “I can get that for you, ma’am. Not a problem”. Part of this summer I’ll be doing an internship at a lab. So in addition to being an academic weapon I’ve also gotta make sure this muscle is both functional and for show.

Task 4 focuses on being a bit more of a slut when I'm in public or around my friends. Putting a bit more sauce on my normal speaking voice, being a tiny bit more touchy feely with people who I know it's safe and kosher to do so with, flirting a bit more liberally.

Engagement

Like last year, I want you all to watch me and interact with this journey. But we’re changing it up a little this year. You’ll be able to get 4 different sources for this journey, all of varying intensity and completeness.

The standard base will be a monthly update released on tumblr synthesizing the whole month of activity with some notable events and reflections on them. These will be free and also probably either cross-posted or linked on Patreon. The next level will be more granular fortnightly updates available to all paid patrons, these will include some sticking points, things I’m struggling with. And I might even ask for suggestions for how to tackle tasks I have problems with. I will also like last year be doing fortnightly voice diaries which will likely be similar to the two above but maybe with some extra impromptu thoughts thrown in, again at the paid patreon tier.

And finally, in twitter’s dying gasp(not even gonna link it but you know how to find me) and a begrudging attempt to strike while the iron is hot on bluesky, I’ll also be doing a lot more frequent if less thought through crossposts on those two sites.

If you by any chance want to help me in any of these tasks and have a personal hand in molding me as I’ve molded you then I can provide two options for support. 1st, as always, consider subscribing to my Patreon at any paid tier, but the $5 level is imo the best value for money. 2nd, I have opened up a Throne account(wishtender 2.0) with specific wishlist items geared toward different HBS tasks(namely A1, A 3, and B1). It’d be really hot for everyone to have some of those get ticked off during the summer. And folks who help out in this way will get a shout out in the relevant update.

I really hope this is an amazingly fun experience for you all and an absolutely transformative one for me. At the end of this I’ll be going into my final Bachelor’s year in this country. I want to be the hottest, buffest, and best I've ever been for these super low stakes classes. Let's make it happen folks!

  (Models for this Himbull Summer are Kieran Yawson and Trkennet)

[dellamortethelesser]

I would like to know more about your de riva!!!

Oh god umm I don't know really where to start. andrea is very special to me but also very indulgent so i get a little uncomfy talking about them online ASLKDJ. i suppose i will try to sum up their concept and then if anyone wants me to elaborate i will lol.

andrea de riva is not a rook but an oc that i built up after drafting a rewrite for the crows and illario specifically, which you can read [here]. they're my zevistair (with a king alistair and trans zevran) kid who was stolen back by the crows as a young child as a warning for zevran to piss off and leave the crows alone.

andrea found out about this (being kidnapped rather than being an orphan, that is) and has been harboring a silent vengeance streak for a bit. they decide the correct answer is to hedge their bets and hold their cards close to their chest--getting back at the people responsible for taking them and lying about it is something that will take time and politics. that's when they choose to try to loop with illario :)

it's a powergrab relationship at first. andrea is a powerful mage (a spirit healer…which for the crows means torturer) who respects a clean kill and can make themself useful fast. they support illario in his own politics and thinks he has the makings of the first talon so their relationship takes off pretty fast.

this is kind of when it all blurs with my canon rewrite as it removes illario as being directly responsible for lucanis's disappearance/death but ultimately the 'powergrab' aspect of this relationship at some point gets overpowered by Real Feelings and they have to cope. there's an arranged marriage. there's a duel. there's a ruined wedding. many such antivan romance tropes. josephine montilyet walked so i could run. she'd yuck this up

also have some screenshots.

[wondercourse]

"I'm anti-endo and I want to protect pwCDDs!" but you call pwCDDs who disagree with you endogenic. But you exclude them from posts that aren't even CDD-specific and would be extremely helpful to hear as a trauma survivor. But you exclude them from posts that ARE CDD-specific, even though they have a CDD. But you say you wish they'd disappear along with endogenic systems. But you tell them to kill themselves.

Somehow, I have this strange gut feeling that this isn't about "protecting pwCDDs".

And for the record, this post isn't meant to be taken as "DIRECT YOUR ANGER TOWARDS THE ENDO MENACE" because your treatment of endogenic systems as a monolithic concept you don't understand and don't like and therefore think should be eradicated, rather than...fucking human beings is gross too. It just drives me up a wall to hear a lot of "Endos are hurting pwCDDs" along with that. Like...

Excluding them from CDD spaces isn't hurting them?

Telling them they don't belong isn't hurting them?

Saying you wish they'd disappear/die isn't hurting them?

Telling them to kill themselves isn't hurting them?

Or is it just the "real" pwCDDs? The ones that check all of your boxes?

Is it even about pwCDDs at all anymore?

Honestly I've been taking a small step back from active syscoursing, but y'all are far, far too comfortable behind your screens. Most of you would never say the things you do to someone's face; if you would, you need to get it together and start seeing your fellow humans as...fellow humans.

I don't even know if this is worded well. I'm just tired. Syscourse is a flat circle. It's an endless loop of droning nonsense that honestly just makes people miserable. It brings out such disturbing behavior and it's just so...tiresome.

TL;DR, do better, etc.

[concerningwolves]

this last week really has had me thinking a lot about why Loki is popularly conceptualised as a queer figure over any of the other Norse gods. part of me thinks it's not That Deep:

Loki is a more obviously transgressive figure, both in terms of his trickster aspect and in terms of him doing stuff that explicitly crosses gender binaries (see: transforming himself into a mare and giving birth to Sleipnir in this form). He is also often represented as an outsider. All of which are things that lend themselves well to a queer reading.

These same characteristics are also present in his Marvel comics counterpart – a very popular character who, depending on the comic, may be anything between coded or canonically written as queer. Fandom also loves to blur the bounds of marvel Loki and Norse mythology Loki, gleefully playing with the two in a space that is already radically queer, so that one feeds into the other.

Rick Riordan also ran with obviously queer Loki in his Magnus Chase series, further cementing Loki as a queer figure in a fairly mainstream social arena, and attracting more people to Norse mythology with this conception of Loki already in their minds, creating another feedback loop similar to the one mentioned above.

But it's the second part of that question – why Loki over any of the other Norse gods – that I really need to scratch at rn. There is rich evidence for Odin as a queer figure, too, but this isn't something I encounter much outside of scholarly discussion. And again, it may not be that deep, because (1) the arguments purporting Odin's queerness are scholarly, so not something most people would come across, and (2) the evidence given is drawn more from archaeology and sagas, rather than the popular stories that serve as most people's gateway to Norse mythology. E.g, the main argument for Odin as queer is:

Viking society had strict ideas about how social status and gender intersected. Unmanliness was deeply taboo. Laws made later in the viking period and into the medieval tell us that a lot of these taboos were enshrined in law – e.g., wearing clothes of another gender could invite legal repercussions.

Odin practises seid, a kind of ecstatic (i.e., ritual) magic mostly associated with discerning the future.

Seid was, as far as we understand it from archaeology and other sources, something that women practised. A female art, in other words, and not something that men did.

It is therefore interesting that Odin, someone who generally embodies what we consider to be the viking ideal of manhood, uses seid.

(bonus point: Extant descriptions of seid rituals also link it with fertility, and the rituals can have an erotic air; men who practised seid could be called ergi, a serious insult that implied they were the receptive/submissive party in gay sex. This means Odin not only moves beyond the gender binary, but embodies a challenge to norms of sexuality as well)

So unless you're someone who already has this context, Odin's use of seid would just seem like another instance of magic in stories already full of magic. It's also a (somewhat sad imo) fact that modern retellers of Norse mythology tend to draw on the same set of stories, usually those from the Prose Edda or Poetic Edda because these form the neatest & most coherent sense of narrative [1]. That, and mythology retellings are usually aimed at children and young teens, the effect of which is twofold –

stories such as Odin's rape of Rind, which involve him disguising himself as a woman, are unlikely to be included because they're hard to make age-appropriate. This lessens their popularity and public prominence, so people are often unaware of them.

Retellings are heavily coloured by the teller's beliefs and politics[2], and specifically in this case by what they consider appropriate for a child: Anything queer is often considered inherently "adult" and therefore Not child-friendly. However, the story of Thor disguising himself as Freya is ok because it reinforces how men and women are separate and any attempt to cross that binary makes you into a fool; Loki is often written as an evil or even satan-like figure, which makes it acceptable to use him as an example of queerness = deviant and wrong, etc.

Still, I can't help wondering if the popular conception of Odin as the manly warrior god has been a barrier, too. In many online leftist queer spaces these days, manhood has started being seen as the antithesis of queerness; as the gross privileged oppressor gender. (Which is such a hilariously out of touch concept, considering that queer men's masculinity is attacked because of their queerness, and factors such as race, religion and (dis)ability also radically change just how much privilege being a man will grant). There is a real problem with images of gender fluidity, transness and gender non-conformity centering thin, feminine (often white!) and attractive people. Many people's concepts of "non-binary" actually just describe "female presentations but slightly to the left". In that mindset, the bearded guy with a warrior's build, who isn't typically described as attractive, cannot be queer. He is too masculine. Hyper-masculine, even – as if nobody with incredibly masc presentation can possibly be any flavour of queer. It's the entire punchline for why Thor pretending to Freya is so funny (a punchline that is just a transphobic punch for many transfem people).

So yes, I have to ask if this is part of why Loki is usually the only Norse god who gets the queer treatment in pop culture. Because it's easier to create from him a queer figure who is more palatable to modern tastes, whereas Odin still poses a challenge to our concepts of what queerness should be today, even though we have moved on a long way from the social attitudes of the viking age..

[1] all of our records of the Norse myths kind of count as retellings btw and are absolutely shaped by the social context in which they were recorded and the beliefs of the writers. E.g., Snorre represents Odin more favourably while Saxo writes him less favourably. It is very hard to know how people in the viking age thought of the gods and myths and religion.

[2] viking history and Norse mythology (or a flattened, idealistic version of these) have been co-opted by Nazis, neonazis and other groups who idolise the image of white hyper-masculine supremacy that they see in these, too. I think the public perception of viking culture has been recovering but misconceptions about who the vikings were & how they lived still linger, and the impressions of 20th & 21st century bigoted attitudes that were superimposed onto Norse history are still visible.

[offshore-brinicle]

I don't know much about Iori, but do you think that she'd end up in/directly opposing Hermann, given the latter's 'wanting to destroy the mirror worlds' thing?

It would also be a nice way to loop her back into the story so Vergie can suffer again and also because she is very pretty.

I mean, it's pretty heavily implied Iori is somehow connected to the events of Limbus with Ruina's deleted ending scene having her propose making a company of E.G.O users to the Hana Association, and Lion, Panther and Wolf were her underlings too as said by Vergillius and the color of their name tags & outfits including these purple snake things in their designs, they are better seen in Vellmori's concept art since it seems she was actually the character designer for these three in specific rather than Nai_Ga like usual going by these sketches

Actually even more interestingly in the topic of Iori and her power of travelling through multiple possibilities and how that is definitely connected to the mirror worlds there's a few details pointed out by Korean users

In Ruina, all of the guests to the library have their own icon/emblem/logo representing them, Iori being such a big deal as The Purple Tear gets her own, and now fastforward to Limbus and compare and contrast the shape of Iori's logo to Yi Sang's mirror he showed the League, a purple circle framed by three lines in the exact same angle.

Even more is that some time ago I came across a tweet pointing out this detail from an official Iori standee where she's seen reading a book which on closer inspection the user had figured out was in fact meant to be a copy of the original Korean text of The Wings (I can no longer access the tweet since they seem to have deleted their account or changed @, but I had the image saved the image comparison on Discord. I looked into it and it was released last November too but the preview pic is so small I can't get a better look

Either way thanks for giving me an excuse to share this information I deadass always forget to talk and I think it's extremely interesting and way too specific for it all to be coincidental

[ceilidho]

do u have a specific way u approach writing? i find it hard to articulate my own thoughts into words so i’m kinda curious 😭

hm not really these days! Something that I’ve been finding very helpful though is having a running list of ideas in one note in my Notes app and having a separate note filled with words that I’m interested in using or concepts and, if they happen to occur to me, full sentences. I always manage to sneak them into something. I also always have a list of scenes or tiny ideas or dialogue that I want to use. I think it makes sitting down to write easier because you have a list of things to pull from rather than just staring at a blank page.

Also sometimes I write in my notebook by hand and other times I type. Depends on if I feel like my brain is too jammed up because some days I feel like it’s easier to get my thoughts out on paper.

I think there are also a couple things that are crucial to keep in mind while writing: 1) the first pass can suck, it doesn’t have to be good and you can always edit or look up a better word later (which is way better than just stuck in a loop of googling “___ synonym” every five words), and 2) there isn’t a right way to tell a story so whatever it most interesting to you is what you should be writing down. Whether that’s the scenery or the dialogue or an internal monologue or the character’s actions.

I also write completely out of order like I’ll skip over paragraphs and start an entirely different part of the story or end a sentence in the middle of it if I can’t figure out how to end it (as long as the idea is kind of there so I’m not confused when I come back later). I don’t know if any of this is helpful. I really do think becoming obsessed with words is the key thing though. Like look at my current list :)))

[yuri-is-online]

Hello yuri, first time anon here 👋👋.

Love your works. They converted me into an aceyuu stan lol. But also consider:

Aceyuu to "Rewrite the stars" from the greatest showman.

It could be the time loop au, soul bond au, or just regular au. It could just be in the song's regular pov (Yuu having their hands tied by going home and not wanting to break Ace's heart or Ace literally defying and turning back time to keep Yuu alive despite the prefect's inevitable death) .

but imagine the singers could also be swapped (like Yuu being the first voice that says their love could work, and Ace being hesitant to outright act on his feelings (and still failing)).

I've just been fed this vision of a brainrot for the past 3 days and I don't know what to do with it XDD.

Lots of love and stay hydrated 💞.

|˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ hello annon nice to have you here. I would apologize for inflicting aceyuu brain rot upon ye but I would not have received this ask and I happen to rather like your idea. There are so many good songs for aceyuu and this one is an easy add to the list. Given how the stars are literally able to grant wishes and astrology is very real it's especially fitting! Yuu's stars spell out a grim fate indeed, it would be an impossible task to rewrite them alone. Lucky they don't need to do that ¬‿¬

Now let's see...

Honestly, both povs suit both Ace and Yuu, especially in the time loop au. I can easily see Yuu pleading with him to accept their fate, not because they don't want to be with him but because they can't stand seeing him destroy himself over and over again. "You know I want you//It's not a secret I try to hide//But I can't have you" But Ace, he's just so determined to save you specifically that nothing else matters so he keeps. Going. At it. To the point we get to that classic Madoka/Amnesia trap where both Ace and Yuu are sacrificing something to save the other because the stars decided to give them opposing fates. Ace wants to save Yuu, who wants to save Ace who wants to save Yuu who wants to save Ace who can stop me if I decide//That you're my destiny? No one, that's the answer. Something else has to give because it isn't going to be either of these stubborn bitches.

Same with normal timeline stuff. Ace is singing the second pov out loud but the first one is more in line with his actual feelings. He would complain the entire time, but he would rewrite fate for you and claim he just happened to be in the area. Yuu's actual attitude is up to the player's interpenetration, but I like a Yuu who gets so frustrated with Ace's one step forward two steps back that they sing the first pov out loud even though they're very conflicted about going back home. Sort of like how both singers fall into a blended pov at the end. Both of them want to rewrite the stars, but have doubts about if it is possible. Doesn't mean they won't try.

SoulBond au Yuu more fits the second pov. Especially the bit about "not [being] the one you were meant to find." Yuu really thinks there has to have been a mistake, if they were meant to be with Ace why weren't they born in Twisted Wonderland? They're going to get sent back eventually won't they? That would just be too cruel a fate for anyone. Ace though... he has this voiceline in his Master Chef card where he says if he is told he is not supposed to do something that's just a guarantee he's going to do it (he's such a youngest child ◔_◔) and that doesn't change just because it's soulbond bs. Sure, he might not be crazy about the concept but he is crazy about you, and just because you might have your doubts and he might not have made the best first impression but your bound. No one, not the stars, not Crowley, not whatever gods exist in your world or his get to say what you are to each other because you can both feel the truth. You're soulmates, bound by a strange magic most consider a curse, and that won't be stopped by something as trivial as you being from a different world.

c: thank you for the ask annon

[gorbalsvampire]

Gehenna War

It's pretty neat, yo.

Like Blood-Stained Love, it transforms the core "personal and political" horror of Vampire into another subgenre. Unlike Blood-Stained Love, it has a lot of concrete advice for Storytellers on structuring scenes, assembling pools, building characters to interact with, and making that subgenre work at the table.

An effort has been made, here. There's a little chart in the introduction claiming that Chapters 2 and 3, and the Appendices, will be of use to any action chronicle, be it more high concept or street level, and having read the durn things I think that claim's borne out. I'm gonna talk about those sections first, and later loop back around to the specifically Gehenna War stuff.

Chapter 2 has neat archetypes for characters in various armed conflict roles - generals, spies, intelligencers, recruits, veterans - with recommendations for priority stats rather than statblocks, so these can be flipped for player or Storyteller use. Suggestions for bonus XP amounts if you want more powerful starting characters, and focused specialisations that advise you to focus particular areas of your character sheet - almost like soft classes, or playbooks. A handful of new Merits and Flaws (one of which is getting slammed onto Penny), and a mixed bag of Discipline powers. Bloodform is back? Woo! There are "reroll Rouse checks for raising this one Attribute or using this one Discipline" openers for the Physical Disciplines? Swing and a miss, more filler. There's two incredible new high-end Blood Sorcery rituals (I shall be using both of them very soon), and some funky Thin-Blood Alchemy if you want your Duskborn to join a Methuselah cult.

Then: advice on running Basic Combat, and explicit guidance on the modularity of the Advanced Combat rules, and a few new ones. This is brilliant stuff for new Storytellers, reflective of the demand for the Combat Primer, and it's given me some ideas I didn't have before, and ALSO. VINDICATION. OBSERVE.

One of the things that waters down play over time is if the characters need to build the same dice pool every time for the same task. To avoid this, Storytellers should vary the traits involved according to the situation, to keep things interesting and to curb players trying to optimize their pools.

Leaving aside that awful syntax at the start - "Play becomes predictable if the characters need to build the same dice pool every time they attempt a task" - activate your voice, and dismiss "is" clauses, you cowards! - anyway, leaving that aside, this is how I've been doing things all along and I love that a book explicitly says "do it and don't get hung up on the exact RAW every time."

Car chase mechanics, cute new gear (I like the Scourge Blades, nasty-ass duelling swords that delay vampiric healing). Then it's on to story advice!

Chapter Three does something I wish Blood-Stained Love had done for romance: getting into the structure of action stories, how action interacts with other genre qualifiers (crime, horror, survival, thriller etc.), the escalating role of villains - like, actual formalist thinking about how stories work. We then get some mechanical advice on how to shift the mode of play, how to approach things like Hunger and Frenzy to make them more or less of a factor. It's short, but it's fuckin' GOOD.

Appendix I is all about dice. When you should and shouldn't roll, as opposed to taking half. Grouping those moments into broad types by what they do to the emergent story. How to add variation with tracker rolls or unusual dice pools. How to manage failures on tests and what to offer players to keep the story moving. And, most important of all, how to deal with the Beast, going through each Skill and showing how the Beast impacts a Messy Critical (still a success, remember!) or a Bestial Failure.

You need this Appendix. The corebook needed this appendix. Maybe it took six years of best practice and sharing ideas to get these ideas fully understood. Maybe if there'd been one dev team since the start we might have had this sooner. At least we have it now.

I'll talk about the Gehenna War itself in a follow-up post. That's Chapters One, Four, Five and Six, and Appendix II.

[arirovi]

A reflection...

I knew BnHA in 2016. The first season was finished and the second season was expected. I was in the University and still working for my degree. Mi personal life and the world in general was so much different...

There was no sign of a pandemic coming, Tumblr was still not undergoing a content purge, and the anime community was much less widespread than today. Then i walked trough the fandom path, to put it more simply, as an observer rather than an active participant.

And just by watching, one learns many things.

In particular, I want to refer to the expectations with which we all approach a series, a story. And also how these change over the years, how they are built on the emotions that certain parts of the plot provoke in us.

First off all, I want to cover expectations for the bnha plot in general.

I've seen various parts of the fandom enjoy BnHA from different points, because it's those parts that resonate with them the most. Some from Izuku's mentor-protege relationship with All Might, others from the focus of pure and simple Heroism, some from the tragedy that is the villains' past and others from the trauma and abuse represented by the Todoroki.

We have all done it from a valid point of view and, naturally, we all build expectations.

Some lucky ones are lucky enough that what they expected to happen happens in the end (and I am happy for you from my own experience), but when those expectations are not met by the original material, it hurts a lot. More than one of us may have seen it happen again and again, experienced it firsthand.

Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter which part of the story we are most engaged in, we all reach, in some way, a point where our expectations are either not met (if we are unlucky) or forgotten or not allowed (if we consider it a representative injustice). But in the end what counts is that as fans we all experience this phenomenon at the same time (to a lesser or greater extent) and in its own way it is a type of social bond that is not forgotten.

(And I'm not saying that it's something merely negative or positive, it can be both at the same time AND it's just a fact, something that is happening to all of us who follow BnHA no matter how long we have been in the fandom)

So, now that the end is approaching and I am faced with different opinions about it, it is like living in a loop of collective emotional repetitions and it is such an incredible phenomenon that in itself, it makes me want to share my thoughts when I didn't before.

Which brings me to the other point I wanted to talk about: shipping expectations and Bakudeku

At that time (2015 onwards) the concept of "queerbaiting" was quite popular, while at the same time, so was the idea that your queer ship could become canon. In fact, it was strong enough to cross the borders of fandom.

But even with this in the mainstream, we BakuDeku seemed to remain on our side of the fandom, always in defense mode. The most vocal on social media represented a group of followers who didn't care how toxic the mere idea of ​​this Ship was to others. The only thing that we cared about was that we liked their interactions, the intensity and the paradoxes between Kacchan and Deku.

In 2016 it was not popular to be a BakuDeku, much less accepted by the general public. And even among fans of the characters, being a specific DekuBaku was a rarity.

And so time went by.

As you can see and in hindsight, expectations for the Ship were very low from my perspective. What we expected from the story was so little that the minimal interactions between Izuku and Kacchan seemed to be assimilated quite carefully and mainly in spaces dedicated only to the ship.

Furthermore, the sparking discussion about whether "bakudekus were apologists for abusers" attracted so many antis and haters that the whole thing became horrible. At one point, blocking them was no longer enough to be safe from hate. And being part of the fandom required so much energy that even I, who was just a shadow who liked or reblogged content in the fandom, needed to control my exposure time to social media.

And what happened next, to reach the expectations that the fandom has now?

The pandemic of 2020 and Bakugo Katsuki: Rising.

That chapter, added to the new influx of fans brought by the pandemic and its quarantines, diverted the path that we believed was set for Kacchan and Izuku as a group. Suddenly, many things that we thought only belonged to the realm of fanfic became accessible through canon.

To begin with, no one imagined that kind of sacrifice on Kacchan's part in the manga. Nobody believed the hospital scene was possible, nor that it was possible for him to ask Izuku for forgiveness or to cry for the loss of his quirk (and what that meant for both of their lives).

How could expectations not rise in the collective because of this, both old and new fans? How to avoid it for those of us who live through its darkest times as fans? How to control the hope of those who feel vindicated by the narrative?

In the end, the nature of expectations is fluctuating over time, unpredictable if we do not pay attention to them, and I am not here to tell anyone, not even myself, that having high expectations about something is bad. Or that having hope about something that helps you be happy is dangerous in the long term. Even if my past in other fandoms resulted in a painful and impossible to forget ending, I can't do that.

No one has the right to comment on the emotions of others and how they live them, how they express them. However, after eight years here, I have learned to use caution as a weapon of battle.

And how I do it? Taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture.

It's been a long road for all of us who were here from the beginning. We had ups and downs and we will continue to have them without a doubt.

Personally, I hold my expectations with a comfortable, soft and practical harness, to bring them closer, caress them from time to time and let them be. But at other times, I hold them tight so they don't get out of control.

The final idea of ​​this, and what I have learned over time, is that you should not assert yourself at any extreme. Mental, emotional and physical health is in balance, it has been proven many times.

I have hope, but I glimpse it in moderation and if we are lucky and our expectations are fulfilled, I will celebrate with joy. But if in the end these are not fulfilled, I will remember the good as well as the disappointment, although without pressure. After all, everything returns to a better place in its own time.

[umbran6]

The Perils of a Divine Childhood

Looping in @stillcarmine. You've awakened the beast. Specifically, my headcanon beast. I didn't want to reblog this in your post because I didn't want to override it. I'm riding on the concept that Leo is still a son of Hera but with a bit more of a twist than Leo being a biological child born from her breaking her marriage. Still, for those who want to see it, I have attached the link here.

In this situation, Leo is very different from my previous headcanon, in which he was Hera's champion. Instead of being a demigod chosen by Hera to act as her champion, Leo is born in a unique way akin to how Hephaestus was born from Hera. Hera resents Zeus for breaking his marriage oaths again and endangering Olympus by shattering the pact of the Big Three, an anger that burns her from the inside out. Thus, blinded by resentment and heartbreak, she decides to create Leo.

However, this is a very different Hera compared to Riordan's interpretation, a Hera who has matured beyond the days when white-hot fury would grasp her heart each time she saw another child of Zeus. She regrets falling back into her patterns of fury but knows that she cannot abandon Leo. She hides her pregnancy from the gods, but the night Leo is born, she does not repeat history. Instead, she spirits him away, entrusting him to Esperanza Valdez when her own pregnancy by Hephaestus turns out horribly wrong. Hestia is the only Olympian Hera trusts with the truth, for her sister had never betrayed her.

God? Well, whatever he is, he grows up as a rather unique child. Though he takes to machinery, it's more out of sheer desire to imitate his supposed mother than anything. Beyond that, he focuses on the sky - not the storms or the bolts of lightning that descend from the heavens, but the stars that glow at night, the gravity emitted by the planet he stands on, and the rockets alongside satellites that humanity sends out to reach beyond the blue horizon. Though he is not aware, his connection to the stars is perhaps not just a childlike wonder but him sensing his connection to his mother's domain.

He's wise beyond his years and does his best to be the picture of a perfect child. This budding desire to be seen as perfect spurs him to develop a social insight that, although most adults don't vocally comment on it, find disturbing. He also values promises yet knows there are times when people can't keep them or decide to break them. He doesn't get outwardly angry, yet the environment feels the subtleties of his frustration. Floating leaves suddenly fall flat to the ground. The kids who try to bully him suddenly collapse as if they had tripped on something. Nothing big, but Leo feels as if this is connected to him. Esperanza tells him that it's karma. And in a way, it is. After all, what is karma, aside from the divine consequences of a wrong? It's a mystery that Esperanza wants to keep, one that Leo is starting to unravel, and one that Hera pours gasoline into the proverbial fire.

He also loves being visited by his tia, who spoils him in multiple ways. She takes care of him, encouraging his creativity and intelligence by bringing him books from across the world. When he's old enough, she teaches him how to cook and use the knives he wields to defend himself. When he's old enough, she takes him for archery and fencing. She gives him sweets, gets him a book that catches his eye and takes him on field trips a bit farther than your usual visit to the local museum. She also plays a significant role in his education, teaching him the world's mythologies and history.

She also teaches him to control his power. He learns to keep things firm to the ground, allow balls to bounce higher than lower, and ensure that his arrows always shoot straight. Hera's smile is evident when a boulder levitates in front of her, carried by. Leo's power alone. He doesn't spill it to his supposed mother. After all, he promised to keep it a secret for Tia. And he always did his best to keep his promises.

Unfortunately, each Leo Valdez has a specific moment in their own life. If I may be so bold, it's their canon event. It all collapses when he's eight years old. In this case, quite literally. Gaea still visits him, warned by Medea, though she is clueless about the child's true nature. She swarms him, preying on his fears, and drives his senses to a panic. Instead of the warehouse engulfed by all-burning fire, the building collapses around him. It's not the ground burying him but gravity itself that shatters his surroundings. And with it, Esperanza is buried beneath the rubble, a victim to both her adopted son's power and Gaea's manipulations.

However, though some events resonate across the multiverse, there can still be changes. Leo awakens to a warm bed, and for a second, he thinks he's back in his room. He doesn't know that Hera spirited him away from the ruins, and that in the eyes of the mortal world, he died when the warehouse collapsed. He only thinks that everything before was a cruel dream. He eagerly anticipates his mom's arrival, hoping she will walk through the door and bring him to school, where he will sneak one of the books Tia gave him so the teacher's lecture doesn't bore him to death.

Then Tia walks through the door, and the illusion collapses as Tia hugs him. Everything is frantic as he can't control himself, that he should've controlled himself, that despite everything he learned, he failed, and he knows what happened to his mom, and —

He hates it. He hates that he failed. He hates that he lost control. This feeling crawls into his heart amidst the tears pouring from his eyes. And when he tries to bring back control, to stop his sobbing, and to sit straight like his mom told him to, a thought burrows itself in his mind. Never again. He could not lose control; he would not.

Days later, when Hera believes he's ready, she tells him the truth—not of his birth, not yet, but of the world of gods and monsters he lives in and the true nature of the enemy they now face. They don't know how long they have, but the least she can do is get him ready for the imminent return of Gaea. And though Leo still blames himself, he is in a better state of mind because of Hera's support, determined to prepare for the challenge ahead.

Now that I've carved out an image of this new variant of Leo, I get into speculation. This is because Leo is a different person compared to his canonical self. This is due to my decision to add some of Hera's traits. Her perfectionism and focus on promises—bits and pieces of those traits leak into Leo because of his true nature. And, of course, a focus on control. This flaw seems more natural for Leo - his life was ruined because he lost control, so an obsession with control and order would be a more organic fatal flaw that is both understandable in origins and significantly impacts the narrative.

There are a few routes I would look into with this Leo. Hera can train him before she brings him into Camp Half-Blood before Percy's arrival. Here, he can connect with Annabeth and Luke, forming strong bonds that will be tested or broken. When The Lightning Thief starts, he can act as a supporting protagonist for Percy, volunteering for the son of Poseidon's quest out of empathy for the trauma Percy went through. When Luke betrays Camp Half-Blood, Leo dedicates himself to hunting down the son of Hermes and stopping him from hurting anyone else. Of course, the plot of PJO still happens, but Luke is under more pressure because of Leo's relentless pursuit. Each time Luke attempts to gather more allies, Leo, with his enhanced abilities and connections to the gods, singlehandedly slaughters them when he has the chance.

Or, we can have Hera send him to monitor Piper and Jason when her trade gambit goes horribly wrong. Leo, in his unwavering loyalty to Hera, acts as her spymaster, keeping both demigods oblivious to his true nature while ensuring the quest is on the right track no matter how he may feel about the deception. This Leo is more isolated, for although he has acquaintances among the divine, he never makes a true friend and has no intention to do so as long as Gaea is still a threat to them.

This variant of Leo has a fatal flaw that makes him a unique social antagonist to some of the Big Three's children, for it can easily be triggered. His desire for control and his distrust for those who disrupt it. When his questmates deviate from the agreed plan or worsen the situation, Leo's response is not immediate anger. Instead, he strategically maintains a sympathetic and kind facade while planning and waiting for the right moment to retaliate.

Leo's respect for the gods, a trait instilled in him by Hera, often leads to conflict with demigods who are cavalier or dislike their distant parents. Unlike many demigods, Leo has no reason to resent the gods. He can empathize with those who have good reasons for their behavior. However, he does not fully agree with them, maintaining his own distinct viewpoint.

I mean, think about it. If Leo is involved in PJO, he will not share Percy's loyalty towards his friends, for he does not have that same unwavering trust due to his desire for control. When Percy sends Medusa's head to the gods? All bets are off. He decides to go with Clarisse to the Sea of Monsters and is barely restraining his fury when he realizes that not only did Percy and Annabeth follow them, but he missed the opportunity to kill Luke.

When Leo learns that the Giants plan to turn Piper into their spy, he immediately turns against her, for Enceladus can always pull Piper's strings. He beats himself up when the Argo II cannot make it in time and even more when the Eidolons make the first meeting of the Greek and Roman camps turn into a declaration of war. When Percy and Annabeth are about to fall into Tartarus, Leo does his best to fight against The Pit's pull, using all of his power and will to resist, yet for the sake of drama and irony, he still fails to save them. Rubs hands together - Oh that will be quite interesting to write.

Anyways, what take do you guys have about this? Please let me know because I can't get this idea out of my head.