#tf traveler

[ask-the-amph-greater-universe]

I kinda wanna throw a traveler at the Neptune pack. See what they do

Hummmmm. You totally can. Travelers just going to be stuck there. The whole standard technology dimensional travel thing doesn't work in arcade. You have to access it through magic or God shenanigans. Which means all devices on traveler are practically null. There but can't function because the whole technological dimensional Network wire or whatever is severed.

The pack is of course going to just observe him from a distance though. Traveler probably looks like trash, and therefore is on their menu. But they got to see how strong he is first. He is going to be seeing them watch him from a distance for quite a bit.

[atherflame-theconcubus]

Oh I thought of something juicy

If the wipe happened it would only really affect h Solar since the baby demons don’t have a creator and shattered bloodmoon is from a dimension like canon where the creator is between life and death. If that happened the babies would likely be present when it happened and wouldn’t understand where h Solar went since they can’t grasp the concept of death. So they just go around the house babbling loudly for their orange guy and looking under chairs trying to find him

Imagine if they were in the room with him while it was happening-

Oh, just crying and hugging their adoptive siblings and their adopted children, they have lost their adoptive older sibling, They don’t want to lose more family

[hyakunana]

Until the End and Beyond

[graviton-lance]

sorry for the kind of long rambling thats abt to happen but im a little sick of seeing this narrative around the traveler not speaking directly to the guardian and/or fixing ghost in the excision cutscene where it's assumed malicious or uncaring because of mainly 2 reasons:

1) this read on the traveler and its intentions/emotions has been refuted by the text time and time again. it cares very much and seems particularly fond of the young wolf. we KNOW this. but it has NEVER been able to speak directly to anyone or just "fix" dead ghosts. no exceptions, even for its favorites (this would trivialize the whole narrative purpose of ghosts anyways imo, but thats a post for another time). which sort of leads into my next point.

2) it DID respond. in a way. what do you think the white space the guardian was pulled into is? why was cayde pulled there too? what do you think caydes vision earlier in the campaign was for? the traveler more or less knew what cayde would be capable of doing in that moment, or was aware of the possibility and tried to facilitate it. but it can't force him, it would be directly against its nature to do so. that was literally the whole point: it had to be his choice. and the only reason the choice is even POSSIBLE is because of characters, power systems, and intentions completely beyond the traveler's control (hi riven!). imo the traveler speaking in this scene would've completely undermined all of this.

anyways i cant think of a way to close this out. this post has been brought to you by pro-traveler gang 🏐🪩⚪️

[transform4u]

My biological father was a drunk, gassy and musky construction worker who ran away not long after I was born. Do you think I could see what it's like being in his shoes, to better understand his actions?

You sit in your tiny apartment, the cozy space filled with the soft glow of your iPhone 15 Pro Max. Grey's Anatomy plays on Netflix, a rerun that offers comfort in its familiarity. You absentmindedly scroll through Instagram, double-tapping on posts of guys who catch your eye, a small indulgence in the midst of your evening routine.

Your thoughts drift towards your father, a complicated figure in your life. There's a part of you that longs to understand him better, to bridge the gap that seems to have grown between you. You contemplate picking up the phone to call him, wondering if tonight might be the night to break the silence.

Suddenly, the clock on your phone catches your eye. Its numbers begin to rewind, ticking backwards in a surreal reversal. Your sleek iPhone 15 Pro Max begins to morph before your eyes, shrinking and changing into an iPhone X, then an iPhone 6, then further still until it resembles an older, basic model from years past.

The transformation isn't limited to your phone. Your apartment around you starts to shift and change. The modern decor fades away, replaced by the more utilitarian furnishings of a dorm room. The air feels different, charged with a strange energy that sends a shiver down your spine.

Before you can make sense of what's happening, the door bursts open with a force that startles you. A tall, robust figure strides in confidently, exuding a familiar but younger vibe. "Sup, bro? Ready to hit the town?" he booms, his voice echoing in the small room.

Your head throbs painfully as you struggle to understand. He continues, a grin spreading across his face, "Need to get fucking wasted! I can't believe Obama got elected. McCain was my man!" He tosses you a beer from a nearby mini-fridge with a nonchalant gesture.

The mention of Obama and McCain strikes you as bizarrely out of place. Those were events from years ago, not recent history as he seems to think. The man sitting beside you now, burping loudly in your ear, looks uncannily like your father—but younger, much younger.

As his echo reverberates through your body, a chill runs down your spine. This surreal encounter defies logic and reason, pulling you deeper into a past that shouldn't be. You're left grappling with the unsettling feeling that you've stumbled into a moment beyond time, where understanding and reality blur into a disorienting haze.

The chill ran down your less-than-average body, a testament to years of neglect and occasional indulgence. You were weather-faced, with a hint of weariness etched into your features. Your clothes, a mismatch of old favorites, hugged uncomfortably close to the bulges and love handles that had crept up over time. Taking a sip of the beer offered by the coyly smiling guy next to you, you felt a strange sensation wash over you, as if your body was shifting, morphing in ways you couldn't comprehend.

Aches spread like a full-body hangover, making you lurch forward slightly. It was a sensation akin to a sudden surge of energy coursing through you, transforming the weight you carried into something stronger. You felt heavy with the potential of pumped-up muscles, ones honed through sporadic workouts and the occasional pick-up football game under the sun. Your chest swelled with an unexpected pride, pushing against the fabric of a worn-out tank top that seemed to fit better now than it had moments ago. Sinewy biceps and veins pulsed visibly under the dim party lights as you raised your drink in a toast, feeling every bit the reckless young college freshman.

Your face, typically unremarkable, now bore a flush from the night's indulgences. Your jawline, softened by the haze of alcohol, relaxed into a carefree grin that spread from ear to ear. Hazel eyes, dulled by the night's revelry, gleamed mischievously under tousled blond hair that caught the party's chaotic energy.

Dressed in classic college attire—khaki shorts that rode comfortably on your hips, showcasing the toned muscles of your thighs, and a faded tank top adorned with the emblem of your fraternity—you felt surprisingly at ease. Well-worn boat shoes adorned your feet, tapping eagerly to the beat of the music as if anticipating the next spontaneous dance move.

In your dorm room, the air was thick with the scent of cheap beer and the promise of a wild night ahead. The dude next to you, your roommate, was practically vibrating with excitement as he poured you a shot and shouted, "Let's rage, bro!" You couldn't help but get caught up in his enthusiasm, clinking your shot glass against his and downing the fiery liquid with a cheer.

"To being the best roommates and finding a rager tonight!" he declared, his voice filled with the exuberance of youthful optimism. The burn of whiskey warmed your throat as you joined in his toast, the alcohol quickly beginning to blur the edges of reality.

In an instant, you found yourself transported to a raging frat party. The room pulsed with the infectious beat of "Low" by Flo Rida, reverberating off the walls and mingling with the raucous laughter and shouts of rowdy frat bros. They were everywhere, clad in nothing but backwards baseball caps and gym shorts that showcased their chiseled physiques. Beer dribbled down their defined pecs and abs, catching the light in a tantalizing display that drew your gaze involuntarily.

You felt a strange mix of admiration and arousal, intensified by the haze of alcohol and the charged atmosphere of the party. Your buddy nudged you with a grin, pointing towards a girl across the room. "She's so hot, right?" he asked eagerly, oblivious to the pounding headache that was beginning to throb in your temples.

As "Low" continued to pump through the room, you let out an awkward burp, the taste of whiskey lingering on your tongue. The sound seemed to echo in the chaotic din around you, a stark contrast to the once-clear thoughts that now seemed distant and unreachable. Intelligence slipped away like sand through an hourglass, replaced by a growing sense of intoxication and confusion. "You ain't checking out Zeke and Brock are ya? You ain't no fucking faggot now is ya?" He punches your arm playfully but there's an edge of seriousness in his voice that makes it clear he wouldn't tolerate any homosexual behavior from his friends under any circumstances You look at him, of course you're a fucking fag---a homo---gay. But a pain and rage coarse through you "I ain't no fag! That's fucking gross bro. You know I need dat fine pussy over there" pointing to some slutty looking blonde girl.

Your desire to breed and dominate women burns bright within you, pushing away any thoughts of being a sissy or gay. You point to the blonde across the room whose curves have captured your attention entirely. A part of you knows what it means to be gay – a pain and rage course through you at just thinking about it – but all rational thought flees as lust takes over. All that matters now is claiming this woman for yourself; breeding her and proving once again who holds court here tonight. With every step she takes closer towards where both of you stand, primal instincts kick into high gear: blood rushes southward leaving nothing but pure adrenaline coursing through veins primed for action! It's time for dominance –

As the blonde chick approaches, your desire to breed and fuck chicks burns hotter than ever. The thought of being a fag recedes into the background, replaced by primal urges that demand satisfaction.

You sneer at the very idea of being a fag, letting out a low growl as rage builds within you. You couldn't wait to punch some sissy senseless and prove your dominance once more – but for now, this woman has captured all your attention. Her huge tits sway seductively in time with every step she takes towards where both of you stand; it feels like an animal in heat ready to be claimed by its mate!

You flex your muscles as best you can in your tight t-shirt and approach her confidently. "Hey there beautiful," you say smoothly, as slight Jersey accent forming, flashing a pearly white smile that might be charming if it wasn't so obvious that you were already well past drunk. She giggles at your flirtation before introducing herself as Ashley. With a playful wink, she invites you to join her on the dance floor where The Killers' "Mr Brightside" is playing loudly enough for everyone to sing along with gusto.

The night seems endless; filled with more alcohol than food and countless conversations about nothing important at all - just like every other frat party ever thrown by these guys who think they know how to have fun but really don't understand much beyond getting wasted and trying not think too hard about tomorrow morning when reality will inevitably come crashing back down on them again.

"I'm uhhh---ummm" it's not that your drunk, which you are, but you can't even rememebr your name "I'm uhhh---Tanner, hahaha but everyone calls me T-Dawg," you say, your voice thick with confidence your accent deepening. As if on cue, a deep unnatural tan washes over your skin while gel coats every strand of hair on your head. A gawdy gold necklace wraps itself around your neck as if it were always meant to be there. Looking like a Jersey Shore reject.

You take Ashley by the hand and lead her over to a ratty, beer-stained couch in the corner of the room. She hesitates for a moment before following you – perhaps she can sense what's about to happen next or maybe she just wants it as much as you do.

Once seated on the couch, you force her head down towards your crotch without hesitation or remorse. The smell of sweat, beer and musk fills the air; it's intoxicatingly familiar yet new at once – like being wrapped up in an old blanket after coming home from war. The scent makes you feel like an alpha male through and through – unstoppable force ready for anything life throws at him! She takes hold of your hardened shaft with one hand while using her tongue expertly against its sensitive underside; moans escape her breathlessly. With each stroke upwards towards your tip followed by retreat back down again (and sometimes sideways too), you grunt approvingly knowing that soon enough you will find yourselves lost within each other completely oblivious to everything else.

Ashley's eyes widen in surprise as she stares up at you while your cock throbs inside her mouth. With a primal roar, you let go of all control and release your load directly into her face, causing her to gag on the thick cum that spurts out of you like a geyser. She quickly pulls back with a look of shock mixed with arousal before standing up and brushing off her hands like nothing happened.

"Now be a good bitch and get me a beer," you slur drunkenly, using the only word in your vocabulary that seems appropriate for this situation. Ashley giggles vapidly before turning around and walking away without another word - clearly already planning on finding someone else to satisfy her needs since yours were so easily fulfilled just moments ago.

As the night wears on, you and your buddy continue to live up to your reputation as fearless bro-conquistadors. Between shots of tequila and chugging beers straight from the keg, you take turns seeing who can faaaaarrrrrrrrt the loudest without holding back. PFFFFFFFFFFFFT The smell is pungent enough that it makes most of the other bros at the party recoil in disgust but neither one of you seem to care - instead choosing to revel in your newfound gas-passing skills as if they were some sort of art form all their own.

Between fart battles and flirting with every half-dressed girl who crosses your path, memories start blurring together into a hazy montage: flashes of bodies grinding against each other on dance floors filled with strobe lights; faces contorted into drunken smiles underneath twinkling strings lights hanging from trees outside; laughter ringing out through crowded rooms packed full from wall-to-wall people desperate for fun before they have responsibilities tomorrow morning.

After a while, you black out. When you wake up, it's in your dorm room – but something is off. The smell of the loudest, most obnoxious fart assaults your senses as soon as you open your eyes. "Dude," says your roommate and best friend from across the room, "you fucking stink."

You feel yourself through last night's hangover; morning wood still firmly in place despite it being 9 AM. Your buddy tosses you a beer without any hesitation or judgment; he knows exactly what kind of college bro life is all about! And so do you – there's nothing quite like starting the day with a cold one before heading out to class or whatever else life throws at them on any given day… Even if that means letting loose an enormous burp right into his face after taking that first sip from his freshly opened can of beer… Because fuck yeah! College was awesome!

As you get ready for the day, you see yourself in the mirror – and what do you see? A dumbass, loud-mouthed obnoxious college freshman! A total Jersey Shore fratbro.

Your roommate high-fives you as if to say "Let's make 2008 are fucking bitch bro!" It turns out that not only are you living in the past now but with the dude that used to be your dad! Not that you'd remember. You let out a wicked, ranky faaaaaaaarrrrt that fills the room as you nostrils flare taking the smell in.

You both let out a huge laugh at this revelation before deciding it's time to score some hot chicks and get day drunk. Who needs class anyway? With that thought in mind, another gassy burrrrrrrrrp escapes from deep within your gut – a reminder of just how much fun being an unapologetically straight college bro can be… So why not embrace it wholeheartedly?

[panelshowsource]

Travel Man | Joe Lycett & Adam Buxton in Prague (Deleted Scenes)

[alphajocklover]

I'd like to see how my life would have turned out, 20 years ago, had I joined my college football team instead of the college theater group.

Fuck. Fucking hell this fucking sucks. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. It’s not you, you’re not the reason I’m upset. Your request is interesting and I want to help you with it, I really do. It’s just… to do this, we’re going to have to use time travel. It’s not that it’s impossible or anything, I actually own a time machine so that’s not an issue. It’s that… I fucking hate time travel.

I don’t hate the concept of time travel itself. I think it can be a lot of fun in works of fiction. Doctor Who, Back to the Future, and Star Trek are all things that heavily feature time travel that I’m a big fan of. It’s just that, in real life, it gets so stupidly complicated. You know how every work of fiction seems to have different rules for turn travel? In real life time travel follows all these rules and none of them all at once. If that seems confusing, that’s because it is. It’s insane. But it’s the best chance for doing this, so we’re going to give it a try. Now, close your eyes and hold onto me tight. This is going to feel weird.

You can open your eyes now. Be careful though, it’s going to take a second for your eyes to adjust. We’re outside now, on the football field of your old college. You don’t have to worry about anyone seeing us. I may hate time travel but the time machine is pretty useful. Time travel, space travel, and camouflage. But that’s not important right now. See that skinny guy standing on the opposite side of the field? You should recognize him. It’s you, 20 years ago, as a college freshman. You really wanted to join the football team huh? I can see the longing in your eyes… but also some serious nervousness. I’m guessing this is about when you back out and decide to join the school's theater group. Not this time though. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna change anything drastic. I’m just going to give you a little… push in the right direction. Have to get you to join the team somehow. I just have to whisper some things in his, or I guess your ear while we’re in camouflage… and just like that everything is going to change. Welcome to the football team. You’re a little late on becoming a jock, but you’re a hard worker. You’ll catch up. Speaking of which…

We jumped forward in time. I probably should have warned you, I was just excited to see the changes. We’re not all the way back to the present, not yet. It’s been a year since the other you joined the football team, and just like I predicted you caught up real quick. Even when you were in theater you were a hard worker, and now that you’ve dedicated yourself to football instead, you’re an absolute beast. You’ve had a major growth spurt and fit right in with the guys who have been playing football since middle school, a total jock through and through. Looks like this version of you acts a little more jockish too. Probably because you’ve been spending so much time around jocks, they’ve been rubbing off on you. Literally in one very special case. That’s right, the new you managed to do what you never could in college: get a jock boyfriend. In the original timeline he never even looked your way, but now Tim Wire, the most popular jock in school, is head over heels for you. You two seem to have a great relationship… Let's see if it lasts.

Another jump forward, a much bigger one this time. It’s been about 5 years since you joined the football team. You didn’t go professional, not because you couldn’t but because you didn’t want to. A guy like you could have been a superstar, but you and your fiancée Tim agreed you both wanted something more stable. So you opened up a chain of gyms. It’s a small business, but it has a lot of potential for growth, especially with you as the face of the operation. You basically have it made. You own a small, successful business, have a sexy husband, and are about to adopt a 3 year old. Your life is fucking perfect. Let’s see if it gets better.

A final jump forward. We’re 20 years after you joined the football team, back into the present. You’re still the old you, but that’s only because I have to ‘finalize’ the changes. Take a look around. You might not recognize this place, this huge mansion, but it’s your home. You, your husband Tim, and your adopted son all live here together. This must be your home gym, and I believe that’s you and him flexing over there. Looks like the little guy ended up taking after his dads. He’s huge for an 18 year old. He’s smart too, all ready to take over the family business when you retire. Your gyms are a very successful franchise now, if you can’t tell from the sheer size of your house. It’s just my opinion but I think your life really would have been better if you joined the football team back then. And now it can be. All you need to do is press this button, and finalize the changes. It’s your choice-

Ok, that was quick. I guess it was an easy choice. I hope you enjoy your new life. I would if I were you. I mean a muscular sexy husband, a son you can be proud of, a successful business and an incredible amount of muscles and confidence. You’ve got it made. I just hope we didn’t change too much. I didn’t realize you’d start a gym franchise. That could have a big impact.

I’m sure it’s nothing though. I mean, how many lives can a gym really change?

[therainscene]

Stranger Things 4 is themed around A Nightmare on Elm Street -- Vecna is a child-killer-turned-demon who murders teenagers from within their own minds; his heavily scarred skin and clawed hand resemble that of Freddy Krueger; and the actor who played Freddy himself plays his father.

I think Stranger Things 5 is gearing up to do something similar with The Terminator. Linda Hamilton (Sarah Connor) is the upcoming guest star this season; Vecna's exposed skull and vine-covered neck resembles the T-800--

--and Will's speech at the end of S4 bears striking similarities to Kyle Reece's famous "it can't be reasoned with" speech.

If Vecna is the T-800... then the Mind Flayer is the perfect candidate for Skynet.

[And Hawkins National Laboratory is Cyberdyne Systems -- a military-funded lab that meddled with phenomena beyond its ability to control and paved the way for a sinister hive mind to enter the world.]

I'm pretty sure that the Mind Flayer lies at the heart of whatever timey-wimey stuff is going on. It's suspiciously linked to timeline inconsistencies -- Will is already able to sense it in his neck before his possession in S2, and young Henry in TFS is haunted by the spider monster he wasn't supposed to create for another 20 years.

I've already written a theory on how a causal loop could tie Will and Henry to the Mind Flayer -- whatever's going on is probably more complicated than this, since my theory doesn't explain why the Upside Down is frozen -- but it's worth a read, I think, as it's the same type of time paradox as the one in Terminator and could easily be at the core of ST's time shenanigans.

Will is Kyle Reece or Sarah Connor -- so does that mean he's going to be a gun-toting badass?

No.

This scene is Will coming full circle from that moment in the shed at the start of S1: backed into a corner and forced to resort to violence because he sees no other way out. He doesn't want to kill the monster; he has to.

But the difference is that he's not cornered anymore.

This time around, Will knows his enemy, and he has supportive friends and family at his side. He's just so beaten down -- by Vecna, by Hawkins, by perceived rejections from Mike -- that he's lost all confidence in his ability to stand up for himself on his own terms.

I know it seems at first glance that Will advocates the use of violence in desperate times, but consider the context of the episode in which the above scene appears:

Joyce is reminiscing about her missing son while dealing with Lonnie telling her what to do and feel about it. Shortly after, she realizes how manipulative he's being and permanently kicks him out of her life (and the show lol) -- no violence necessary.

Will's advice hadn't been about the value of violence, but about the value of refusing to play by abusers' rules -- a key lesson in Stranger Things, as we've been watching El learn it the hard way over the course of four seasons.

Will cannot self-actualize by "finally" pulling the trigger on an approach that symbolizes his homophobic father's macho expectations. S5 is going to be about him regaining his self-confidence and allowing his authentic, gentle nature to guide him to the real solution.

So, to return to the "he's not gonna stop" speech: the theme at play here is inevitability, and it's one of the central themes of The Terminator -- not simply because the titular assassin is unstoppable, but because of the love story that drives the plot:

If Skynet hadn't sent the T-800 back in time to kill Sarah Connor before she could give birth to the leader of the human resistance, then Kyle would have had no reason to go back in time and end up unknowingly fathering John. No matter how hard Skynet tried to snuff John Connor out of existence, the rebellious love that created him was just as inevitable as the T-800.

This, I think, is the message at the heart of both Terminator and Stranger Things, and is the reason why The Terminator would be the perfect choice for S5's theme movie:

Sometimes the horrors wrought by humanity are inescapable...

...but so too is the hopeful human drive to love each other and overcome them.

Read Brenner's role in creating Vecna as a metaphor for homophobic Reagan-era fear-mongering and it all clicks into place, I think.

[qiinamii]

it's all about the noises

bonus frames from the vid!

[profoundmakerdreamerss-blog]

Tomarry AU where Harry knows everything but it's not because he is a time traveller, neither because he is a seer —

Pages and words have always been Harry's best friend. Living inside a cupboard did not help with his obsession. Rather, it was due to those pages that he survived. (He was 14 when he got his room instead of a bloody cupboard to sleep in.). The library was the only place Harry was able to hide from Dudley before they were sent to different schools.

When he was fourteen, and hiding from Dudley in the public library (he was mad that his gaming room was given to him.) he ends up reading a book he came to like very much.

It was a book about an orphan boy (like him.) who ends up going to this magic world (oh, how Harry wished) but sadly Tom ended up being hated there as well. Harry was awed by Tom's strength, but also angry (at the world how they let Tom down.) and angry at Tom for destroying himself to destroy what hurt him (or maybe he was angry at himself for not being able to do the same, maybe he was angry that he couldn't save Tom —) Harry was fourteen and it would seem he was angry at a lot of things.

(—that day Harry punched Dudley back after Dudley hit him. He didn't get to eat for a week straight.)

Jealousy is something he never let himself feel, because it wasn't a privilege he was given — not really. But one thing he was jealous of was the fact that Tom got to fly. (Harry wondered some nights — hungry and unable to sleep — what would he do if he got a magic letter? Would he have friends? How nice it would be to get to eat 3 times a day — how nice it would be to just fly away.).

Harry Potter loved Tom Riddle. Harry Potter also loved Lord Voldemort. The boy who died to be born as a monster. The boy who swallowed all the hatred so that he could hate the world in return (oh, how Harry wish he could burn down the world too sometimes — how he wish he could just hate hate hate and not care care care; maybe then he would finally stop trying look for approval in his aunt's eyes). Harry knew when started reading the book Tom was as cruel as he was strong. And he knew as he read the text, there would come a day Tom would burn the world like he was also burned. Even though he didn't agree with Tom's decisions most of the time he knew Tom. So yes, Harry Potter might not agree with Voldemort but he still loved him. And he wished that he could tell him that. Wished he could tell the man who was still a boy that wanted a family so bad that he stayed up for hours at night searching, hungry to find any living family there was, hungry for a belonging that he wasn't even deigned in the magic world. He wished he could tell Voldemort that no matter what he became, Harry would love him.

So imagine his surprise when he wakes up in a moving train — right after going to bed (instead of a cake he got a can of soup) the night he turned sixteen. Imagine how surprised as he sat there, in robes that he doesn't remember he ever owned. Imagine him freaking out that he got kidnapped as the door of his train compartment opened, and in came Tom Riddle.

[ask-the-amph-greater-universe]

@madcatdaderpydrawer-blog @digi-sams-au-hell

The thread got a little too long for me! It started breaking. Restarting thread here.

I believe it is time for Digi to respond.

Last little bundle of replies.

[telephonedear]

maybe venti’s real second archon quest was the friends we made along the way

[bad-tf-fic-ideas]

(166) Optimus Prime gets to gloriously sacrifice himself for his cause and move on to the Well, and by the end of the Cybertronian civil war a guilt-free death is all he really wants. So he's content and at peace. And then he wakes up, confused and dismayed, inhabiting Megatronus's frame, millions of years in the past.

Being a celebrity in the pits of Kaon is an awful life, and Optimus Prime has done his time a thousand times over and certainly doesn't fear the Well, so—somewhat shamefully, in retrospect—the first thing he does next is get Megatronus's cannon and blow his own processor out the back of his helm. The next time he wakes up, Megatron—HIS Megatron—is sharing the frame with him, and he has some scathing opinions about Optimus Prime's decision making capabilities.

They're both still trapped in Megatronus's body in the gladiatorial arena of old Kaon. They're just older, debatably wiser, and also stuck together. There's no Optimus Prime without Megatron, you see. And the future of their species depends upon them both.

[tekablade-chronicles-3]

behold, a boy and his fairy

[lovinglonerhybrid]

I feel like this is a strange idea but someone might like it. So my idea is that in the tfp universe Orion and megatronus have a sparkling. The sparkling takes more after its sire but since megs is a gladiator Orion takes care of the sparkling most of the time . Introducing them to Soundwave and ratchet and taking him into work because sparkling care is expensive and having him meet alpha trion. One day when Orion and the sparkling are alone at the archives they get cornered by a primal gard who threatens them. After this Orion and megatronus go to the enforcers to see if anything can be done for the safety of there sparkling. Unfortunately well they are away there sparkling is kidnapped and taken to the senate who use him to black mail Orion into taking the matrix. After Orion accepts and is turned into Optimus prime the senate realizes that he’s two powerful to control without a full proof way of keeping sparkling and creator separated. So they throw the sparkling threw an experimental space bridge and use that agenst Optimus keeping him under there thumb. Now the sparkling ends up in another universe gets picked up by the cybertronion defense core and reframed into a large war frame and is sent into battle. The sparkling taking his sires name megatron falls in with the beginnings of the decepticon movement meeting bots with fermiller names but different personalities well except for starscream they all seen the same at first. Megatron learning of the power of the all spark believes that it will be able to let him go home so he becomes the leader of the decepticons and begins his war for the allspark. Hoping that he will be able to go home to save his creator and sire from the cruelty of the senate. After millions of years he is a close to the allspark as he’s ever Been but as he boards the autobots ship he is attacked by some familiar bots one of which looks almost exactly like his creator.

Anyway hope you all like this.

[elfelt-valentine]

i don't really get simpatico but i would love to understand it more bc its such a big part of transformers now. if you're willing, you can do that big post on simpatico here?? if you wanna??? i'd really appreciate the help 🥺👉👈

The thing with Simpatico is that i didn't exactly Get it at first too, most of my exposure was through fan content and reading the thing i was just Yeah it Makes Sense people ship this, but then it kind of bestowed on me more how these two people are just two parts fitting together perfectly in a way they wouldn't with others, and it's not even inherently Romantic to me, even if i see them as very much in love and conjunxed post MTMTE/LL story.

Their relationship is quite silly in the context at first. Brainstorm's profile calls him a conflicted Perceptor fanboy. The only thing we get, up to this point, is his Annoyance with how his genius is overshadowed by Perceptor. While Perceptor doesn't seem to give him his time of day at all, more concerned with his work and what Rodimus wants from him than what Brainstorm is up to.

It's honestly just my personal interpretation of either characters, but Perceptor is finally allowed to fullly get back to science again, he's not expected to be holding his sniper rifle (even though he was never expected to! He had himself believe that holding a weapon will make him of more value!), while Brainstorm is there with his own super secret super important agenda.

Brainstorm is, apparently, an MTO, while we don't know what for, but MTOs have a very sad track record and usually have a lot of baggage as they're usually "born" and then kicked into the heat of battle, barely having any chance to learn who they are, just what they're for. Yet Brainstorm has never killed anyone - and despite that, he's still LIED about being an MTO.

Here they're talking about the concept of Constructed Cold, but there were TWO waves of them - pre-war and post-war. What Brainstorm is talking about he was not even born to witness yet.

They're both people who, one way or the other, "defying" what they are. It's a common theme with tf ships for me, but in case with this, it's Perceptor believing that he has to be more, and at the point of MTMTE, perhaps, not feeling entirely whole, and Brainstorm WANTING to be someone He actually Wants to Be.

Brainstorm feels threatened when his intellect is belittled by people calling Perceptor the genius. Brainstorm is quite egotistical and selfish, but it all ends up being just a facade, just as much Perceptor's cold and perfect exterior he cultivated throughout years during the war, of someone he thought his side needed.

Up until Brainstorm's time travel shenanigans, we saw them interacting sometimes, and a lot of the time, it was Brainstorm trying to impress Perceptor somehow, or just being himself that draws attention of Percy nevertheless.

And then we see Percy smiling the most he's ever smiled throughout the comic, calling Brainstorm a genius himself, impressed by the intricate work of Brainstorm.

Perceptor gets up to clap for Brainstorm at his trial, and i think it's the moment that sold Perceptor for his respect to Brainstorm. Everything he ever knew about Brainstorm - the careless egotistical and cowardly scientist - turned out to be nothing but means to an end, making way to a dedicated, caring, kind and brilliant person into his mind.

I think their finale just says it all regarding these two, honestly.

"I always wanted recognition for what I am."

"Me too."

Brainstorm spent his life on science and to be recognized. He didn't hide the fact he's an MTO just because. He wants to be seen for his achievements. Perceptor's war trauma had him feel useless to his comrades, who's "purpose", who's Genius, was ultimately the thing people saw in him, brushing off his personal achievements, maybe even the fact he could be more, his person, the way he feels Brainstorm could understand, too.

They're simpatico for a reason, and its just one of them, but pretty crucial and at the very core of why they're so compatible.

While i understand simply thinking of them as "science duo" they're so so much more than that.