#transformers one fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lets-try-some-writing · 3 months ago

Note

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.

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yuukirita · 7 months ago

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Elita-One is the only bot that has it remotely together frfr

Chapter 4 of 'a small change, a small bot' is out on ao3.

Maybe I should give a few prompts for this au... emmm

Optimus Prime is sad Bee is gone... In the movie he says "I may be a Prime now, but I'm going to need you by my side" or something like that. I think that was literal. Maybe the Matrix telling him 'ey you can't be a leader alone'. Also He just lost his best friend so he could really not want to lose his other friends.

Yeah that's the only prompt I have. How do people write prompts this is tricky.

#DeceptiBee au #elita one #optimus prime #his son is gone now look at him #fanart #fanfic #transformers one #digital art #Not me struggling to draw a door

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writeyouin · 7 months ago

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Oo I got something for TFO

If possible would you be open to doing a human s/o with D-16? Like the human came from another planet that was destroyed and they got stranded on Cybertron and somehow managed to end up in Iacon city?

D-16 (Megatron) x Reader – The Creature From Another World - Part 1 of 2

A/N – This is so much longer than I thought it would be. I think it may be the most fun, silly fic I’ve ever written and I am so happy that I got to write it. Also, SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE TRANSFORMERS ONE MOVIE IN THE FINAL SEGMENT!

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

It was all Orion’s fault. Everything that was likely to get D-16 in trouble was his fault. It was always, ‘Hey, what if we searched the tunnels for something even more valuable than energon?’ Or ‘You want to come into the archives with me? Of course, I have a permit. It’s not like I would try breaking in… again.’

This time, the line that was sure to get D-16 into trouble was, “Hey bud, don’t tell anyone but I got us a pet!”

D-16 rubbed his helm exasperatedly, “A pet, Pax! Why can’t you just obey the rules for once.”

“Hey, there are no rules against keeping pets,” Orion said excitedly, heading over to his locker to retrieve the creature in question.

“Of course there aren’t! Because no one would be stupid enough to keep one!”

“You just haven’t seen it yet. It’s really cute.”

“I hope your spark eater tears off your face, Pax. I really do,” D-16 deadpanned.

“Not a spark eater,” Orion chuckled, then he began whispering into his locker, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt ya, little cutie. That’s it, settle down now.”

D-16 shook his head, “You’re gonna get demoted all the way down to the 40th sub-level and when you do, I’m not gonna save your sorry aft. Besides Pax, there isn’t enough energon to go around as is. How’re you gonna feed a pet?”

“That’s the thing,” Orion said eagerly. “It doesn’t fuel up on energon.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What kind of thing doesn’t need energon?” D-16 asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him as he tried to peek over Orion’s shoulder at the so-called ‘pet’ he was trying to grab.

He heard some scrabbling, Orion said some more soothing words and then Orion turned around, holding a creature half his size around the waist in both servos.

“D-16, meet our new pet, Minitronus.”

“Minitronus!” D-16 said excitedly. He knew Orion had only picked the name to foster his attachment and ensure that he kept the creature a secret.

D-16 got close to Orion’s pet, resting his hands on his thighs as he bent down. “Whoa, what is it?”

“C’mon D-16. If you don’t know, I’m not gonna tell you.”

“You have no idea, do you.”

“Not a one.”

The creature chittered angrily, pushing at Orion’s servos.

“It looks angry,” D-16 observed.

“It’s just getting used to us. That’s all.”

Orion began stroking at the creature’s head.

“Okay Pax,” D-16 said, resigning himself to Orion’s crazy new pet, as he knew he would from the start. “C’mon then. Tell me all about it. What does it eat? Where’d you find it? And most importantly, how’re we going to keep it a secret?”

“Hey! I said HEY! YOU UP THERE! STOP PETTING ME! I’M NOT AN ANIMAL, YOU BIG DUMB IDIOT!”

The giant metal man smiled at you affectionately, opening his mouth to say something you couldn’t understand. It all sounded like scraping metal and electrical noises and you couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Ever since the Quintessons had abducted you, your life had been nothing but trouble. You were their prisoner but when they found out your planet had nothing of worth, they decided it would be better to experiment on you. The only consolation was that you could at least understand the Quintessons, who had multiple translator devices on their ship.

You were very fortunate that the Quintessons didn’t view you as a threat since they didn’t bother keeping you in any kind of high-security prison and so you managed to escape before they did anything too terrible. The worst you suffered were a few zaps from a weak cattle prod, probably testing your nervous system.

Yet, having escaped the Quintesson ship, you had landed yourself into deeper trouble. You had found yourself on a living metal planet, and though a few plants grew on the ever-transforming surface, the pocket computer you had stolen from your captors informed you they were poisonous.

Fortunately, you had thought a few things through regarding your escape. You had managed to grab a backpack, stuffing it full of provisions and interesting gadgets. The food was stored in dehydrated cubes so with proper care, it could last you months, maybe even an entire year. The backpack also contained a device to keep you warm, a cube that turned into a forcefield when thrown to the ground, and most importantly one of the translators that had allowed you to understand the Quintessons along with a few other gadgets.

However, despite your planning, things hadn’t gone very well for you. After touching down on the planet, you boarded a train that you hoped would take you to civilisation, and while it did take you to a city underground that was more beautiful and advanced than you could imagine, it was clear that the alien life-forms there had never seen an organic creature before.

The few you tried to talk to initially screamed as if you were vermin and tried to blast, stab, and crush you in succession. As you scrambled for your life, you took a kick to the back, saved by your pack which had broken your much-needed translator.

You ran and hid, keeping out of sight and soon you started feeling like the vermin the metal people viewed you as. You learned quickly to keep out of sight and made your way to where there were fewer bots, spending many quiet hours either sleeping in vents or trying to repair your translator with the limited knowledge you had.

Yet, your luck couldn’t last forever and eventually, you ran into a vent that turned out to be a transportation tunnel to and from the mines. It was there that Mr Big-Red-Idiot-Bot caught you and took you to the charging bays. At first, you thought your luck was turning around and that he was going to take you to someone who would be able to understand you since he was obviously trying to be gentle with you. Then it became clear that he just thought you were some kind of stupid animal in need of care and he adopted you as his pet.

“What are these things?” D-16 asked, gently lifting your top.

You slapped at his servo, swearing at him even though he couldn’t understand you. Orion laughed, “I don’t know, but that’s how it reacted to me too. I think they’re to keep it warm. Either way, it doesn’t like it when you touch them. Oh, and hey, check this out, it does tricks.”

Orion shoved you back into his locker where your bag was. You ran to your pack, hurriedly grabbing your broken translator and showing it to the new grey bot. You had tried repeatedly showing it to Big Red, but he didn’t get what you were trying to do and always just laughed at you.

“What’s it holding?” D-16 asked.

“Playing with some scrap metal. Isn’t that cute? It has a favourite toy! I think Minitronus might have belonged to someone else once because it has all these adorable toys in there and it can make its own fuel.”

You sighed. Clearly, the grey bot was no better than Big Red, but at least he wasn’t trying to kill you. You shook your head and began searching your pack for some tools to repair the translator. Upon seeing you grab a screwdriver, Orion took it from you.

You yelled a few more insults, demanding it back but Orion just teased you, holding it just out of reach.

“Aww does Minitronus want the toy? Do you? Do you? That’s it, reach for the toy. Grab it.” He cooed.

D-16 rolled his eyes, amused by both Orion and his new pet. He snatched the miniature ‘toy’ screwdriver from his friend, handing it back to you. “Don’t tease it, Orion.”

You nodded gratefully at D-16 and he ruffled your hair. This time, you didn’t bother insulting him since he had given you what you wanted.

The work alarm went off overhead and Orion slammed his locker shut just in time for the influx of workers to come through the shared stasis bunker on their way to work. D-16 tried to fight against the crowd to stay by the locker but Orion pulled him into the fray, muttering that it would look suspicious if he wasn’t at work on time.

“But what about- Will it be okay in there?” D-16 whispered as they headed into the lift.

“Sure,” Orion said from the corner of his mouth, trying to be quiet. “It’s been in there for days and it's been fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now be quiet and act normal.”

D-16 smiled and gave a small awkward wave to a bot in front of him who was observing the pair with a raised optical ridge. Over the years, Orion had caused more than his share of trouble so D-16 was used to the scrutinising looks from others, though he always got nervous when they both had something to hide.

You sighed and rested your hands on your hips. It was awful being constantly stuffed in a locker, especially since Big Red didn’t seem to think things through. He shoved you in your new ‘home’ whenever other bots were around or when he went to the lift which you assumed meant he was working. The problem with that was that his species didn’t tire easily and could work a very long time, and with this being what you could only assume was the poorer part of the city, there were always other bots around. You had to get your translator fixed quickly, or else you would spend the rest of your life in the locker. Still, things weren’t all bad. It was warm and safe. You often used your backpack as a pillow, sleeping through the first few hours before getting back to your repair work. You had privacy and a personal collapsable service suite that pulled moisture from the air so you could drink or shower - it even took care of your waste by vaporising it; alien inventions sure were convenient. Besides, now the other bot knew about you too, and perhaps he could help you. Resignedly, you set about keeping to your normal routine and began some light repair work, too awake to rest now. You only wished you knew what you were doing and that you had even the faintest idea on how to fix alien technology; your life depended on it.

Orion and D-16 were the first up and out of the elevator, avoiding the usual crowds by skipping the last few minutes of work with a lame excuse about being called upstairs. Honestly, the pair got into so much trouble they were often called up to meetings with higher-ups for tellings-off, which Orion usually tried to talk his way out of, and so nobody so much as batted an optic when they left.

Upon getting up to their quarters, Orion and D-16 were both relieved to see that the rotation team had already filed out, presumably having taken one of the other lifts to a different mine. Orion ran to his locker and hurled it open.

“Aww, look,” He pulled D-16 close to get a good look at you. “Minitronus is recharging. Hey, do you think it’s dreaming of us? Pets do that, right? Dream of their owners?”

“I mean, if Minitronus is thinking of me, that’s a dream. If it’s you, it’s a nightmare.”

Orion elbowed D-16 in the chassis then reached in to grab you.

D-16 pulled him back, “Whoa hey, don’t wake it.”

“We have to. It’s time for walkies and this is the only time we can get out of here quietly before the others catch up.”

Reluctantly, D-16 let Orion go.

You jolted awake, terrified until you remembered where you were and that you were now the ‘pet’ of an advanced alien. You settled groggily in his arms, wondering what he was going to do with you now.

He proffered you some words that sounded like two lawnmowers smashing together, but by his expression, you could tell he was happy. Then he jostled you, miming something you couldn’t understand until it was too late.

You scowled at Big Red with your arms folded, too insulted to even try yelling as he tugged you along an empty alley on your new wire lead.

This was a new low.

“I don’t think Minitronus likes walkies,” D-16 commented as you dug your heels into the floor, trying to hold your ground.

“Nonsense,” Orion said, trying to be gentle as he pulled at your lead, making you stumble forward, “It’s just not used to it yet.”

D-16 patted his thighs, “C’mon Minitronus. That’s it. Here Minitronus. Minitronus.”

After a few more attempts, you realised that the gentle electrical hum Grey kept repeating must be his name for you. Huh… Well, at least the repetition meant they had a stable language.

You listened again and tried to mimic the sound, making both bots pause to look at you.

“Did it just…?” D-16 asked, pointing at you.

You mimicked the sound again.

“It did,” Orion agreed. He ran over to pick you up, spinning you in his arms, “Who’s a smart Minitronus, huh? Yes, you. You are!”

Although your mimicry had been good, it wasn’t quite enough to convince them that you were sentient. Rather, they were looking at you like a parrot who had picked up a new phrase. Instead of repeating your name, you had managed a babyish mumbling somewhere close, that sounded more like Mini–Tron.”

D-16 beamed and petted your head, quickly coming to love his new pet. Orion was right, it was smart and cute.

“That’s so cool, I wonder if we can teach it more words.”

“I’m definitely teaching it swears,” Orion laughed.

Eventually, the pair headed back to the underground, with Orion heading in first, making sure everyone was recharging, before signalling for D-16 to follow with you.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t put me back in the locker,” You whined as you were placed on the top shelf.

“Oh no, don’t cry,” D-16 begged, listening to you pitchy chittering. He held a digit to his lips, shushing.

“You two will be gone for ages, what between sleeping and working, and it’s dark in there,” You continued, even though he couldn’t understand you.

You only stopped talking when he held you against his chassis, petting your head. You sighed in understanding. He was trying to keep you safe; this was all for your own good.

‘Okay,’ You thought, feeling strangely comforted by Grey’s actions. ‘If this is how it has to be for now… Okay.’

Orion gave an enthusiastic thumbs up to D-16, glad that he had managed to keep your mewls under control.

“Goodnight, Minitronus,” Orion whispered before shutting the door.

“We love you,” D-16 added.

You shook your head after the door shut; life was going to be interesting with those two.

“PAX!” Elita-One shouted, jetpacking up the empty elevator shaft to catch up with Orion and D-16 who had stolen away from work early for the third time that week.

Orion held you behind his back, hiding you just in time before Elita got in his face.

“Captain, what a surprise!” Orion grinned cheekily, already trying to smooth-talk his way out of the situation. “Me and D-16 were just saying what a great and wonderful leader you-”

“Can it, Pax!” Elita glowered. “I’ve had just about enough of you. It’s bad enough that you’re a troublemaker but now, you’re dragging D-16 down with you and- what’s behind your back?”

“My back? Nothing at all,” Orion shoved you into D-16’s open arms, and he in turn hid you behind his leg, trusting that you wouldn’t run away if he wasn’t holding you.

Elita grabbed hold of Orion, slamming him into the lockers, her eyes narrowing when she didn’t see anything worth hiding. She glared at D-16 who held up his servos in a shrug, gesturing to Pax who was already babbling about how strong she was and how no other Captain had had the strength to throw him so hard.

While Pax created a distraction and Elita-One continued her tirade against him, D-16 shuffled backwards, sneaking you out for your daily walk.

You had grown used to the routine now, learning the building’s alarms that marked the beginning or end of a shift. When it was coming time for Orion or D-16 to take you out, you always hitched on your backpack, just in case you needed anything, though you had long since learned not to work on your translator in front of Big Red, since he kept assuming it was a toy and continually threw it for you to fetch. Honestly, he was doing even more damage to the already broken machine, and it stressed you out constantly whenever you were forced to catch it before it hit the ground.

When you and Grey were alone, you always did repair work at the end of a walk, since he would take you somewhere quiet to rest for a while.

You had been living with the pair for just over two months now and in that time a few things of note had happened.

First, they had entrusted knowledge of you to a few of the others in their ‘platoon’ or whatever the group they worked in was called. This had happened after an incident wherein you had escaped your locker to explore and a silver and blue bot with a passion for dance stumbled into you and squealed. Big Red, and Grey hurried to your rescue and had to explain their ‘pet’ to him.

This led to you being the worst kept secret in the mining facility, though it was bound to happen eventually with so many bots living in close quarters. However, all the mining bots found you sweet enough and they all had a code of honour that meant they kept you secret from anyone with authority like Elita-One or any of the other captains.

Yet, while everyone knew about you and you were generally allowed out of the locker most of the time, it was still only Orion or D-16 who took you out, and they still tried to get out of work a tad early to check on you.

One of the other changes in your life was the delivery of a big bundle of wires as ‘toys.’ That was another word you had learned to mimic since Orion kept bringing you play-things and repeating the Cybertronian equivalent.

This happened after you kept picking up pieces of scrap wire on walks, taking them with you so you could use them in your repair work. At first, Orion and D-16 took them off you, afraid you would hurt yourself somehow, but when you kept collecting them and fought hard to keep the few you had, they assumed it must be a normal nesting behaviour and brought you a great deal more than you needed.

You were delighted with the gifts and hugged both bots for it. Then, after saving the few you needed for your translator, you weaved the extra wires into a new over-shirt. It was uncomfortable, but quite practical since your jumper was wearing away and you needed a new one to keep decent when you were washing your actual shirt.

Another problem to occur was your hair. In your time with the bots, it had grown very long, and much to your bemusement, Orion had tried cutting it. The whole thing had gone disastrously, and you suddenly understood those dogs that got terrible haircuts because they tried to escape their groomers; you could only be thankful that the bald patch was beginning to grow back.

The final change was Grey’s idea. He felt confident that you were well trained since you now responded to your name, paying attention when you were called through the miners’ hab-suite. Because of your actions, he often let you off-lead, which you were immensely grateful for. He rarely put the lead back on you unless he thought something was unsafe, so whenever it went on now, you clambered onto his shoulder, trusting that he would take you home and away from danger quickly.

It wasn’t a perfect life, but things were slowly improving. You could only hope that your lucky streak didn’t break and that you would be able to communicate your needs fully before the year was up.

D-16 sighed, sitting on the side of a tall building overlooking the city with you in his lap. You were content to let him pet you while you toyed with your translator. You went in an almost trance-like state whenever you tinkered with it now, honestly not expecting anything to come of it but needing to work all the same.

He continued speaking in his gentle, rhythmic noises and you hummed as if you understood, pressing a wire down with the flat of your screwdriver.

“- and that’s why I know what we’re doing is important. Even Sentinel says so. Us miners, we’re keeping Cybertron alive,” D-16 said proudly.

“Who’s Sentinel?” You asked absentmindedly.

D-16 screamed, accidentally throwing you off his lap.

“Hey, be careful!” You scolded. “You could have dropped me over the edge.”

You picked up your translator and brushed yourself off.

“Minitronus, you’re talking!” D-16 accused.

“Yeah, well so…are… Oh my God, I did it!” You breathed. Then you punched the air excitedly, “I DID IT!”

“WHAT IS GOING ON? HOW ARE YOU TALKING?!”

“I fixed my translator,” You squealed ecstatically, waving it in front of D-16.

“Your- Your toy?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, practically bouncing on the spot.

“This is impossible. You- You’re our pet!”

“No. Not a pet. Not anymore. I’m (Y/N). Okay, (Y/N),” You repeated your name slowly, trying to get it through to Grey who still looked panicked.

“Primus, this is insane.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You’ve got to explain everything to me, right now.”

“Okay, sit down,” You patted the ledge.

D-16 did so, and you jumped back into his lap.

“What’re you doing? You can’t sit there now. You’re not an animal.”

“Hey,” You pushed against his servo, staying stubbornly in place, “I’m not going back on that ledge, I could fall.” “Fine,” D-16 relented. He went to pet your head again then stopped himself, keeping his servos stiffly by his sides. “As long as you explain yourself, you can sit wherever you want.”

Having told D-16 everything and had him explain a few things in return, things thankfully changed. Initially, things between you and all of the mining bots were awkward, with haunted comments from some of the bots like, ‘It saw me in the wash racks,’ or ‘I can’t believe I tried to rub its belly… No wonder it slapped me. Oh. Oh no.’

Once everyone got used to the idea, your life improved. You were still kept secret since none of the miners knew how the higher-ups would react to an alien species, but with some ingenuity and a few favours exchanged for information about your species and planet, they all came together to transform your locker into a proper living space, complete with all the amenities they could manage to scrape together. They even began forming a plan to try and have you off-planet and en-route somewhere you could survive before your supplies would run out.

After D-16 and Orion were over the weirdness, you still had them take you on your daily excursions, sans the lead since you were no longer their pet. Orion managed to laugh about the whole thing, but D-16 grew to be even more strained around you. However, you didn’t get to ask him about it till you were next alone with him, which was a long time afterwards.

“So… Do you hate me now?” You asked him one day while he walked a few paces ahead of you, keeping an eye out for anyone who he would need to hide you from.

“What?” D-16 sputtered. “I- I don’t-”

“It’s okay,” You smiled easily. “It’s a strange situation.”

D-16 felt his insides squeeze. He had held onto you while you slept. At the time, he thought you were cute. Now though… You were still cute when you slept, but it was a different kind of cute – Softer, somehow.

“I told you everything,” He sighed, defeatedly. “My life, my dreams, my fears.” He shook his head, continuing mournfully, “And you didn’t understand any of it.”

“Not true,” You contradicted, running to stand in front of him.

He watched you warily.

“I might not have known what you were saying, but I did understand you. Your tone, expressions, the sound of your voice. I understood more than you think.”

D-16’s spark pulsed.

“Let’s go home,” He said quickly, turning on his heel and walking away from you.

The two of you had to go where you wouldn’t be alone or things would change again.

D-16 was falling in love with you and he couldn’t let that happen. There were too many unknowns and he had his planet to think about. He was a miner – the life force of his planet. That’s what Sentinel Prime always said, and work came first.

Besides, you weren’t going to be on Cybertron forever. You couldn’t be. Once your supplies ran out, that would be it for you.

D-16 couldn’t get attached. It wasn’t like you were a pet anymore. You didn’t belong to him, even if he wanted you to.

You ran through the destruction of Iacon City, terrified by everything that was happening. Honestly, you had missed most of the events leading up to it, having been stuck in Sentinel’s tower, but you had seen the so-called Prime torture and brand D-16.

Afterwards, you tried to find him or Orion, but you were small and Iacon was big and the city was collapsing around you.

You screamed as you were grabbed seemingly from nowhere and looked up to see D-16, though he looked slightly different thanks to the new infusion of Megatronus’ T-Cog which you hadn’t seen him take from Sentinel’s corpse. Also, there was one other change – his angry red optics, which bore into you.

“D-16,” You shouted, “What’s going on? Where’s Orion?”

“Orion is dead,” He growled. Though he had made a promise that nobody else would be deceived, you needed to hear that lest you side with Orion over him. Besides, it wasn’t a lie. Orion was dead – Dead, and replaced by Optimus Prime. “And my name is Megatron.”

“Orion- Orion’s dead,” You repeated, too shell-shocked to even cry at the moment.

“Yes,” Megatron glossed over your emotions, far too focused on his rage as he transformed around you, keeping you safe inside his alt-mode. “And we’re leaving.”

“Where are we going?”

“To war!”

Yet, even as Megatron burned with hatred and his desire to bring down the corruption that fuelled his planet, he was already reading the intel sent by the disgraced High Guard, informing him of several nearby planets where you would be able to get the organic fuel you required to stay online.

Megatron had lost everything. He was not about to lose his beloved pet too. You were his, and you always would be.

A/N - Hey, I worked really hard on this so please comment, or at the very least reblog. Likes aren't enough anymore guys, they just aren't.

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #transformers #maccadam #tf one #transformers one #d 16 #orion pax #elita one #megatron #optimus prime #d-16 #d 16 x reader #megatron x reader #The Creature From Another World #part one #chapter one

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afterartist · 2 months ago

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You have no idea how insanely bad I want an MTMTE / Shattered Glass Crossover

Is this just cause I love SG Sounders and want him to join the found family?? Maybe, shut up

Can yall guess who I like drawing vs who I don’t like drawing

#also my headcannon is SG SW is a triple changer cause we’ve seen him with both his Cassette deck and Van(??) alts so :p #art #my art #transformers #transformers idw #more than meets the eye #transformers mtmte #lost light #transformers lost light #transformers shattered glass #soundwave #soundwave fanart #shattered glass soundwave #idw soundwave #rodimus #megatron #mtmte rodimus #mtmte megatron #technically #if you squint #maccadams #maccadam #one of these days I’ll learn how to tag for this fandom #crossover #yes this was originally inspired by that one fanfic of TFP sounders ending up on Lost Light #sg soundwave #I was gonna make a comic then i remembered im lazy #feel free to expand on this idea btw #doesn’t even just have to be Soundwave he’s just my ride or die🙏🙏#mechs without faces (unless you’re tarn then you can go die) >>>

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kayak-mayak · 3 months ago

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I may have bitten of more than i can chew haha

I dont know how to write fics so i made it into a comic! And my hand is about to fall off.

Part 0.5 (OUT NOW!!!) | Part 2 |

This is a part 1 of my multiple-part comic fic, part 2 will come ...someday...when i learn how to draw optimus (in more parts then one lol)

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classjezter · 18 days ago

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I CAN JUST IMAGINE HOW THE BOTS ARE FEELING RN 😭

Not well! they're trying their best though

I wrote a bit for this scene, you can read it down here🔽

It had been a few days since they lost him.

Her room was now a wreck. Jagged holes peppered the walls, one of the chairs had been kicked clear across the room, and a table lay overturned, half-broken. Elita sat hunched over on the edge of her berth, arms resting on her knees, head bowed low. Her frame was tight, tense, like if she moved wrong she might snap in half.

The door swished open.

B-127 hesitated in the doorway, peeking inside with wide optics. He shifted awkwardly, glancing at the battered walls before his gaze landed on Elita. She hadn’t moved. She just sat there, so still it was almost frightening.

"...Hey," he said, voice small in the tense silence.

Elita didn't look up. She just gave a low grunt of acknowledgment, still seething silently. The tension in the room was thick, heavy, he could feel it like a physical weight on him.

Bee hovered awkwardly by the door for a moment before finally walking over and sitting in the berth a little ways from her.

He hated seeing her like this, it was wrong. Elita was supposed to be strong. Unshakable. Seeing her this broken felt worse than anything. This was one of the few times he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to make her feel better.

Finally, her voice broke the silence, rough and low. "I let him down”

Bee blinked. "Elita-“

"I let him down” she said again, louder this time. She finally looked up at him, and the sheer pain in her optics made him flinch. "He trusted me. All of us. And I couldn’t even keep him safe when it mattered”

He thought back to the security footage Prowl had shown them. He thought of a tiny sparkling, awkwardly climbing out of his crib, determined to follow after Elita and B-127 when they’d left to defend their base from the Decepticons. He remembered how nobody had even realized Optimus wasn’t asleep anymore, how they’d been too caught up in all the chaos. Their leader turned-sparkling always did this, wandered off when he shouldn’t, curious and full of energy. They knew he did this, they should have been more careful, they should have-

"I should've been paying attention” Elita muttered, unknowingly voicing B-127 thoughts, her voice low and rough. "I should’ve noticed he was following us... I should’ve noticed something”

B-127’s mouth opened to argue, but the words caught in his throat. How could he tell her it wasn’t her fault when he was carrying that same guilt? When he kept replaying that moment in his processor, running through the halls, hearing the faint sound of Skywarp’s teleporting signature “vop”, and knowing -knowing- he was too late?

He should say something now, he’s being too quiet.

"All I can think about is the last time I saw him. He was trying to follow me. Trying to keep up. And I didn’t even notice. I didn’t even look back” She leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. "Primus... I left him behind”

B-127 scooted closer to her, they were almost touching now “You didn’t leave him," he said after a moment. "None of us did. He just... he got caught in the crossfire. It- it wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was…”

Elita laughed bitterly into her hands “‘Supposed to happen’ doesn’t mean anything now”

Bee stared at the floor. "Yeah” another beat of silence.

He couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

He looked away from her, guilt twisting in his spark. "I... I’m sorry”

Elita frowned, confused. "What?"

"I’m sorry!” Bee blurted again, louder this time. Turning to look at her, his words stumbled over each other in a rush. "When we realized he was missing, you trusted me to find him, to get him back and keep him safe. I was supposed to find him. I was supposed to get to him first. But I- I didn’t. I wasn’t fast enough. I tried, I swear I did, but Skywarp- he was faster. And I couldn’t get to him in time!"

He squeezed his optics shut, fists clenching in his lap. "I should’ve been faster. I should’ve protected him. It’s my fault too”

Elita sat in stunned silence for a few moments, processing Bee’s rushed confession, the guilt thick in his voice. She had been so buried in her own anger and grief, she hadn’t even thought about how hard this was for the others, how hard it was for him. But hearing Bee’s voice crack like that, hearing the guilt he carried just as heavy as hers, she felt something break inside her.

Her optics softened, and she shifted, scooting a little closer to where he was sitting stiffly beside her so that their sides were touching.

“B…” she said quietly, almost a whisper. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

B-127 blinked, startled by the rawness in her voice. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, he was never good at hiding things. Never good at keeping quiet long enough to keep a secret. That had always been something about him. If something bothered him, everyone knew within five minutes.

But this? This he found hard to talk about.

He shrugged, staring down at his servos. "I... didn’t wanna make it worse," he mumbled. "Everyone already felt bad. You, Wheeljack, Ratchet, all of 'em. I figured if I started dumping my mess on you too... it’d just- y’know. Hurt more."

Elita’s spark ached. He had been hurting this whole time, trying to carry it by himself so that none of them would hurt more. Trying to protect them from his own guilt, when he was just a kid himself.

Without thinking, she reached out and pulled him into a rough, awkward hug, one arm slinging around his shoulders and dragging him close. He stiffened at first, then sagged against her like a tight cord finally snapping.

Words were never really her thing, that was always Optimus' job. Somehow, he could just... pull the right things out of the air, say them so confidently and perfect it made you believe him. Elita? She was better at actions than words.

But Bee needed something right now, and unfortunately, no amount of punching was going to fix this.

"Listen to me Bee, and pay attention because this is important” she paused for a second, waiting for his tiny nod to continue “You aren’t supposed to keep that slag bottled up. You're not a one-bot army” she muttered into his helm. "You don’t have to protect us from that, You don’t have to protect me”

Bee made a small, almost choked noise, but didn’t pull away. His servos clutched at the back of her frame like he was scared to let go.

"You’re not supposed to carry it all by yourself” she said, a little sharper now, voice rough. "You screwed up, fine. So did I. So has every bot in this rusted war. It doesn’t mean you gotta sit there and eat yourself alive over it”

She leaned back a bit and grabbed B-127’s helm so she could look him properly in the optics "You’re not- never were on your own, Bee. You hear me? You’re ours. Mine. And that means you don’t have to shoulder this like it’s your fault, because it isn’t kid”

Bee just blinked up at her, optics huge.

A second passed, and then without warning, B-127 threw himself at her, tackle-hugging her so hard they both nearly toppled sideways where they sat.

"Whoa- hey!" Elita barked, catching him on instinct, arms locking around him tight. Properly hugging him back once the surprise had passed and she could stabilize them.

They stayed like that for a moment, Bee just clinging to her like he did whenever he was feeling too much, like whoever he was hugging would just disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

"You know," he murmured against her chasis, voice full of mischievous affection, "Optimus is better at speeches”

Elita threw a flat look at the top of his helm. “Yeah, well, Optimus isn’t here right now, so you’re stuck with me, brat” Bee just laughed and leaned more into her.

They sat there holding onto each other for a little while longer, finally getting the comfort they both so desperately needed, the room quiet except for the low hum of the base around them. Elita was about to suggest they finally get up, maybe punch another wall or two just for good measure, when Bee spoke up again, voice softer.

"Hey Elita?" he mumbled into her armor "you're being kinda stupid too”

Elita froze “…Come again?"

Bee pulled back in a panic, just enough to look up at her and wave his arms in denial “No! Not like- I don’t mean you’re stupid! I meant that, well, it’s stupid that you keep blaming yourself. For what happened. For losing Optimus”

Elita opened her mouth, ready to bark something back, but B just kept going.

"It wasn’t just you," he said more firmly, voice now filling with confidence “It was all of us. I didn’t look back and see him follow, I wasn’t fast enough to get him. Ratchet and Wheeljack didn’t notice him wandering off. The others weren’t there to catch him either. We all messed up. You’re not the only one who lost him”

Elita stiffened, jaw tight, but Bee wasn’t backing down. He even poked her chassis with a finger.

“We all lost him, Elita. If I’m not alone in this, you’re not either. Just because you’re in charge doesn’t mean you gotta carry all the burden by yourself”

He crossed his arms after that, glaring up at her like he dared her to argue.

Elita stared at him, stunned. For a second, she seriously considered shoving him over just to shut him up, but then the weight of what he said really hit her.

Slag. He was right.

She let out a rough sigh and dropped her helm forward, resting it lightly against his. "You're lucky you're right” she muttered, voice low “and cute, you little punk” she added in a more lighthearted tone.

B-127’s smile finally returned, grin wide and bright, the way it was supposed to be. “It’s part of my natural charm”

Elita snorted, grabbed him by the helm, and ruffled it roughly until he yelped and squirmed.

After a few seconds of torture, he finally got himself free and turned to fully face her "So, what do we do now?"

Elita leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. Her gaze was sharp, but there was a kind of calm to it now, a certainty that hadn’t been there earlier.

"Now” she said, voice low but steady, "we get Optimus back”

B-127 looked at her, searching, like he needed to be sure she meant it.

She met his optics without flinching. "We're not leaving him. No matter how long it takes, no matter what we have to do. He's ours”

B let out a shaky little laugh, almost disbelieving. "You really think we can?"

Elita let the smallest, rough-edged smile pull at her mouth. "I don't think, Bee. I know”

She reached out, ruffling his helm with a heavy, affectionate shove. "We’re bringing him home. And if Megatron tries to stand in my way-“ she shrugged, casual, almost lazy in the way she said it, "-I'm putting him six feet under myself”

Bee snorted, the sound small but real, the first genuine one in days. He leaned against her side a little, bumping shoulders.

Elita shifted, reaching out and putting her arm across his shoulders. They didn’t have a plan yet. They didn’t have all the answers. But they had each other, and they had the unwavering love they felt for the little sparkling they’d lost, a love that would drive them forward, no matter the odds.

Finally, with an air of confidence, Elita pushed herself up, offering a servo to B-127.

"Come on. Let’s tell the others. It’s time we start putting together a plan”

Bee grabbed her servo, pulling himself up with a determined nod.

This wasn’t over. They would tear the sky apart if they had to, but they were going to bring Optimus home.

#transformers #baby prime #transformers one #baby prime asks #class jezter art #transformers au #tf optimus prime #tf b127 #tf elita one #tfo au #tfo #tf bumblebee #tf fanfic

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thecocodrille · 10 months ago

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I have to draw all the dads and they new force adopt traumatized kids

#fanart #skywarp #fanfic fanart #maccadam #seekers #thundercracker #optimus prime #transformers #transformers young seekers au #starscream #ironhide #prowl #force adopting this kittens #Optimus is the only one capable of having starscream as his son #give Optimus starscream full custody #young seekers au

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t-a-a-1 · 4 months ago

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Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

There is a clear difference between carrying a sparkling and dying.

You weren’t sure which one you were doing.

Everyone was treating you like you were about to perish. Everyone has always been careful around you. But now they are extremely aware of you. Every step you take, breath, look, smell, nothing was too insignificant.

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

The autobots treated you like a doll. Although the thought sounds amusing, it really wasn’t.

“I just want to go for a drive. I’ve been inside for two weeks. I need to get out.”

Bulkhead moves his helm from side to side. He was the third bot you asked about going out.

“What if we crash and you get hurt?”

You knew he was making up an excuse to not take you for a drive. Because what kind of Autobot would be such a bad driver?

“I am a human! I need the sun and see pretty things or I’ll get depressed and die!”

“Can you just watch the sun and pretty things on TV?”

Crossing your hands in front of your chest, you huff, showing your clear satisfaction.

“I am sorry (Y/N) but you are carrying the only sparkling Cybertron has seen since millennials. If you weren’t having our species’s only hope, I would be more lenient.”

Bulkhead’s voice sounds apologetic. You know that he was telling the truth. Maybe they all missed hanging out with you but couldn’t do much due to current circumstances.

“I am being serious. I need to go out.” you say looking at the bot. “I’ll seriously die.”

You were exaggerating but you didn’t know until how much you could last without going crazy.

“Well, maybe we can wait until Optimus is back and hear what he thinks.” Arcee steps in, trying to see if she could alleviate the situation. “You know, so no one wants to get in trouble.”

“Prime isn’t even around.”

A simple talk couldn’t fix everything. Although you and Optimus were in speaking terms, you wouldn’t say that things were the way they used to be. Things were still awkward and tense between the two of you.

“You need to understand him, he is also going through biological needs not seen eons ago,” Ratchet speaks up while still typing on his large computer. “He is nesting for you and the sparkling, he can’t control it and he is trusting us to keep you safe while he is away.”

“Oh so you care about his biological needs but not about mine? I see how it is.”

“It’s not that, it's just–”

Ratchet turns to look at you.

“Alright, maybe you are right.”

The medic-bot notices the color of your skin. It’s pale. Not in a natural way but in a sick-manner. Your belly has grown and you look tired. Mentally, you must be going through a lot. The weight of the survival of an entire civilization is on your shoulders and you are yet to know if the sparkling will be born healthy.

“Only for 30 minutes.”

Optimus was able to satisfy his biological needs only after he found ten dandelions. It was extremely hard to bring them to base since they were delicate and were easy for its tiny petals to crumble. He had found several but would have to go back and look for more since most would lose their petals on the way.

He also found some pretty rocks. He wasn’t sure which one you would like most so he brought all of them.

“So you are here to stay with (Y/N) for the rest of the pregnancy?”

His olfactory sensors picked a familiar smell. A human one but it was none of the kids. It was a scent he wasn’t fond of. One he very much wished did not exist.

“Yes, as a Special Agent, I was assigned this duty. Which I am glad for, I want to spend time with (Y/N) as much as possible.”

Special Agent Alex. Fowler’s Co-worker and your childhood best friend.

Optimus’ sensors were on alert. All of his instincts warned him.

“Potential male threat detected. Human male may potentially steal sparkling and partner. Action Required: Keep human male away from mate.”

“May I inquire about your reasoning behind your sudden … presence without invitation?”

He didn’t waste any time as he walked towards the center of the hangar. His tall demeanor did not seem to phase the secret agent.

“Hey, Prime! Sorry for not announcing it before,” Alex waved knowing that he would get more of a reaction out of Optimus if he pretended that his hostility does not affect him. “But I am just doing my duty. (Y/N) was originally supposed to be transported to a secured area under my watch. But since that didn’t happen, I’ll be staying here.”

“(Y/N) is currently protected by five Autobots at all times. She’s safe here and does not need your guarding.”

“That may be right but (Y/N)’s child is a matter of national security. I can’t let the Autobots have complete control over humanity’s first human-alien hybrid child.”

Optimus closes his servo, fighting the urge to smash the human like a mosquito.

“My sparkling is no human experiment.”

“I am not saying it was,” Alex looks directly at Optimus’ optics. Unafraid. “What I am saying is that the child would benefit from having all the resources this world can offer. That child, no matter what it may be or look like, would be more human than Cybertronian. It will grow here. Learn our languages, history, traditions and culture.”

Alex smirks, about to deliver the final hit.

“It’s not like there’s much to learn from Cybertron after all,” he says. “I may raise that child myself.”

Everyone could hear Optimus’ gun engine turn on, about to point directly at the agent.

Until you showed up.

“Alex?”

He immediately put away his weapon, pretending that he wasn’t about to harm a certain individual. He couldn’t do it, not after seeing the smile on your face.

Not after you jumped into his arms, hugging him as he spinned you around.

“Alert. Action Required: Eliminate threat. Keep human male away from mate. Alert.”

His processor telling him commands wasn’t helping the feelings in his spark.

“You have always been beautiful but pregnancy suits you so well. It’s going to make my stay here all the more pleasant.”

Alex has always been a flirt. But you never took it seriously. At least not now. You used to love the compliments during the time of your relationship. Years ago.

“Are you staying here?”

You ask excitedly, in a desperate need of a friend your age. A human friend who would understand your need to get coffee and see the sunsets.

“Yes, you won’t have to be lonely anymore,” Alex puts a hand on your head, giving you a soft head pat. An act Optimus was never able to do casually. Putting hands on you without consent in any way did not fit right with him. “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

“Yes! You can stay in my room!”

You seem to enjoy the affection. The agent gave you a certain warmness Optimus couldn’t give you and his processor is starting to write codes unfamiliar to him.

“I am highly against that–”

“Alright, I’ll put my things in there,” Alex’s voice was louder than Optimus’ as he was closer to you. You were too excited to pay attention to the rising anger of the bot. “But tell me, where were you? I was waiting for you and got kinda worried.”

“I’ve been inside here for two weeks and Ratchet took me for a quick drive.”

“For two weeks? That’s not healthy for you and the baby, you need to stay active and get enough sunlight.”

“That’s what I told them but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Everyone around you noticed your evident happiness that they didn’t mind the comment. You were right, they weren’t taking your needs into consideration. It was even more evident by the sudden change of your mood.

“Well, from now on I’ll be taking care of you,” Alex moves his hand to caress your cheek. “And I’ll take you on regular drives and trips.”

“Do not touch my sparkmate–”

“Also I brought you a gift!”

He looks down at his backpack as Optimus’ voice subsides. Opening it quickly and showing the content inside it.

“My favorite chocolate!” you take the pink box from his hands. It was an expensive brand and hard to find. Not available anywhere in the city. “Thank you!

Optimus quickly thinks of the things he got you. Dandelions, flowers, rocks. Would you love them just as much? Will you jump in excitement and hug him? Will you see him as fit enough to be your provider, protector and Sparkmate?

“Analysis Complete: Human Male wishes to bond with Sparkmate and steal Sparkling. Activating Sparkmate Protection Codes. Eliminate offering. Keep Sparkmate secluded.”

It’s like he couldn’t control himself. It was fear, confusion and jealousy that overtook his processor.

Without any announcement, Optimus walks towards you and takes the chocolate box using two of his digits. You watch him with amusement, not understanding his actions. And without any previous warning, he crushes the box.

The Autobots don’t say a word, flabbergasted at their leader’s actions.

“I- I am–”

Optimus wanted to apologize but he was so surprised by his own doing that no words left his dermas.

The room is silent for a few seconds until sobbing is heard coming from you. Normally, you wouldn’t cry but your hormones have been acting differently, making you more emotionally sensitive.

You run to your room, Alex quickly follows by until the two of you disappear from the hangar.

“Sparkmate in distress. Advance with caution. In case of Sparkmate rejection, proceed to program Offline codes.”

Optimus looks at his servo. The pink chocolate box is destroyed. It was a nice gift. Delicate, gentle, genuine. And he destroyed it. All that was left was the result of his own selfish actions.

He didn’t know how to approach you. Nor knew if he should. His processor was begging him to go talk to you.

His pedes hang from the cliff as he sees the stars in the sky. Its a view Cybertron was unknown to. His home planet, with all of its technological advances, unique traditions and indescribable views could never have this kind of beauty. Yet, it can’t compare to the delicacy of your eyes.

Hearing heavy steps walking towards him, he knows it wasn’t you. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell when you were approaching him, your steps were too small to be heard. Either that or he would smell your scent.

“You know, the right thing to do is apologize, right?”

Arcee was not one to open up easily. That was something she had in common with Optimus.

“It would be simple if I knew she would want me to,” he responds, seeing the motorcycle sit next to him.

“... Are all male bots this stupid?”

“I believe so.”

There was silence but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need to talk to understand each other. Optimus is a great leader but somewhat stupid when it comes to relationships. It is of no surprise, however. Cybertronian and Human relationships are very different. Cybertron culture is more reserved, sometimes even completely political. As a species living for so long, it’s more about companionship. A long lasting friendship. Finding a Sparkmate was completely rare. Something not everyone would get to experience.

Humans however … Due to their short lifespan, they were more prone to fall in love and out of love rather fast.

“My processor has been programmed to do things I deemed as primitive for our kind,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t control it.”

“Then just tell her that,” Arceee puts a servo on his shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t common in Cybertron either. But he didn’t mind. “And apologize … a lot.”

You started to overthink. A lot.

Optimus had feelings for you. Of that you were almost certain. You think ‘almost’ because now you weren’t so sure.

Optimus would live for many years after you are gone. Maybe one day he will finally find the one, his Sparkmate. Where would that leave your child? He has told you that he will be responsible. But is he doing it out of duty or because he has love for his sparkling? You didn’t want him to believe that he is being forced to stay.

It was a stupid thought. You knew that. But the thought still lingers in the back of your mind.

“Prime is gonna kill me whenever he finds out I took you out of the base.”

It's always nice to get out of the base during the night. Especially with someone who saw you as an individual instead of just a ‘carrier and savior of an advanced robot race.’ He also drives nicely, not too fast, not too slow. Alex used to be a mechanic, his love for cars was always evident. Even as he drives, you can tell that this is all he ever wanted to do.

“You know he won’t even kill a fly.”

“Yeah and that’s why it’s so fun to tease him.”

Alex tried to diminish the tension of the previous situation. He didn’t know why Optimus did what he did. But he feels a bit guilty for teasing Optimus as much. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him to his limits, he wouldn't have done such ugly act.

“Can we go to the beach?”

You ask randomly.

Alex smiles.

“Sure.”

When Ratchet informed him that you had gone on a night drive with Alex, he immediately went to your room.

Why?

It was something even he couldn’t understand.

He knew he wasn’t going to find you there.

Yet, his processor couldn’t understand how you weren’t here. He needs you. Now. His every circuit aching at the thought of you leaving his side. Carrying his sparkling and with a male who had successfully stolen you from his servos even if it's just for one night.

He can still smell your scent in your room. Even after he had mass-shifted to enter, the room was still too small for him. He touched the bedsheets and began to miss the moments he has shared with you before in it.

Where are you?

He needs you now. He needs to hold you, to know that you are safe. To express how much he adores you and the sparkling.

“Sparkmate Status: Missing. Sparkling Status: Missing. Safety Status: Unknown. If Unable To Locate, Proceed With Solitude Activation Codes.”

He used his Comm-Link to call your cell phone. But nothing. He tried again. Nothing.

It wasn’t until the 30th time that he understood … You didn’t want to be with him.

You didn’t want him.

His servos tremble.

Optics feel heavy. It’s strange. Having blue liquid come out of his eyes. He had cried before. For different reasons. This was pain, in its purest form. In a way words can’t describe. Proof of it were his subsided pleas of air as he had forgotten how to breathe, something he didn’t know he could do until he saw you.

His spark aches. It hurts. Everything.

Everything … His everything is gone.

It was about a 10 hour drive.

Watching the sunrise was always a beautiful experience. Feeling the warm sunlight touch your skin energizes you. It made you forget the previous negative emotions and you began to have this strange yearning.

For Optimus.

You wanted to be with him. Wishing he could be here with you along with your unborn child.

Maybe he had over reacted but knowing Optimus he probably has a good reason for destroying the chocolate box. Was he taking care of your weight? What if chocolate is toxic for sparklings? You wanted to talk to him and make things better–

Oh.

You were right. You do need the sun.

“Let’s build a sandcastle.”

Alex could sometimes be like a child, which was fun. There was never a boring moment with him.

“Let’s build an Autobot, instead!”

You let yourself touch the sand and immediately feel something moving inside you. It feels strange. It doesn’t hurt but feels very uncanny. Nonetheless, you smile as you put your hands in your belly. Your sparkling may be more human than you think, also enjoying the activity and fresh air.

“Do you think will look like his father?”

You ask Alex as he tries to make a small square with his hands, using water from a water bottle.

He looks at you and then down at his little project.

“If the child were to live on Cybertron then I would prefer for them to look like Optimus,” he says, trying to think of a delicate way to tell you his opinion. “But since they will be living on Earth, then I genuinely hope they look more human.”

You know you will love the child no matter what. But Alex had a point. What kind of life will the child live if he is too different? Humans can be cruel, especially to those who are different.

“If something happens to me … will you take care of them?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks at you again. His mood had been ruined but it was a question you were meaning to ask.

“You know childbirth is difficult as it is and well, I am assuming giving birth to the first Human-Cybertronian child would be even more so.”

“You know we’ll have the best doctors in the world for that day,” Alex starts to mold more rectangular boxes as he stacks them up. Meanwhile you have started working on the head. “And if anyone can come out alive out of that it's you.”

He makes a pause and a small laugh escapes from his lips.

“Besides, didn’t you fuck a 20 feet tall alien robot? You did that and came out fine. Childbirth should be a piece of cake.”

Without any notice, Alex’s mouth is filled with sand. You had thrown him a sand-ball and he started spitting it out and washing his mouth with the remaining water.

“Hey! It's true!”

“Yes but you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t blame you, if Arcee would give me the chance, I would hit too–”

You throw more sand at him and he also retaliates. A sandy-battle unleashed as the wind was in your favor. Alex was gentle enough to only attack you below or above your belly. His ‘projectiles’ are extremely small compared to yours and between giggles and laughs, the battle continues until both of your hairs and clothes are covered with sand.

And then, Alex’s phone begins to ring.

“Where is he?”

The sun is still rising. The groundbridge could not stop time. But the time in California and Nevada were the same.

You run towards Ratchet who is still by the groundbrige system, Alex close by.

“At the top, he is doing better now that I told him you were returning but …” The autobot medic pauses, not finding the right words to describe the situation. “I think you should go and see for yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate and made your way towards the rooftop. Of course, you didn’t run but you moved as fast as your pregnant body could.

It was a good workout, you were losing your breath as you made your way to the elevator. If you had been in better shape, you would have taken the stairs.

As you wait to arrive at the top, you could hear the beats of your heart palpitating against your chest. Overthinking is a talent of yours. Many stupid thoughts crossed your head. Thinking that Optimus was too angry at you for leaving the base without permission. You were ready to accept your punishment, whatever that may be.

Instead, as you arrive at the top of the cliff, there are more questions than answers.

You find big rocks, with a weight of more than a ton. Two rocks standing vertically and one on top of the two laying horizontally. Like a small house made out of giant rocks, enough space for a single Cybertronian. One that is around 20 feet tall, blue and red that turns into a truck.

Optimus is there but he is too busy spraying dandelions around his small house that he didn’t notice your presence.

It wasn’t until he turned around that his optics shine in excitement. He almost runs towards but reminds himself to be gentle. Reaching out a servo, you expected him to hold you but he doesn’t he pulls away, using all of his strength to restrain himself.

“I am glad to see you are safe.”

He says in a soft voice, the relief in his voice is evident and you feel the need to jump into his servos and be embraced by him. But just like him, you stopped yourself from doing so.

“I am glad you are safe too,” you tilted your body a little, your attention directed to the rocks behind. “Ratchet said you were acting … strange.”

Optimus also takes a look at his creation. He wished he could do better but its the best he could do with his limited resources.

“Yes, you could say so.”

“May I ask, what is going on?”

He has been meaning to tell you but he doesn't know without getting nervous. He didn’t know how you would react. Will you think of him as weird? Disgusting even? But he can’t run away any longer. You are the sword and he is against a dead end with the only option being moving forward.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a sparkling in milenia so to ensure its safety, my processor activated primal codes,” Optimus says. “It makes me do things that may be antiquated.”

Not understanding fully, but if you had to come to a conclusion, Optimus may be going through something similar to animal mating rituals. Which is not so far fetched since Cybertron used to have Predacons before Cybertronians appeared.

“Is that why you destroyed my chocolate box?”

“Due that we haven’t concluded the Conjunx Ritus, my processor doesn’t consider you as my Conjunx Endura yet, although I consider you my Sparkmate” Optimus blinks multiple times as he only does when he is nervous. “I identified Special Agent Alex’s actions as threatening to steal you and my sparkling.”

“Me?”

“Yes, although those reasons are more … intimate ones.”

Your heart beats faster as the sunlight reflects on his paint-job. He looks beautiful. You once again remember how incredible and extraordinary of an individual he is. There is no one like him in the entire universe and never will. You feel delighted to know that you are in his presence, being able to admire a side not one has seen yet.

“Oh,” you look away after realizing you had been staring at him for too long. “And that?”

You point at the rock structure and Optimus optics quickly follow.

“After you left, I went to look for you at your private quarters,” he kept looking at the rocks and you wonder the struggles he had to go through to carry them to the top. “Not seeing you there activated my Solitude Codes.”

He walks towards the rocks, there are a lot of dandelions. Some of them died. Others are alive. There is some sort of yearning in his optics as if he belongs there. Its a sorrowful yearning, as if he was made to do something that he wishes to not do. Yet, he knows he would be skillful at it.

“I felt the need to build this.”

“And do what?”

You ask, not wanting to walk closer as you thought that maybe you would be overstepping his boundaries.

“Wait,” he answers.

His back faces you. Not being able to see his faceplate, you can only tell how he feels based on his voice box’s tone. He just stands there, looking down.

“For what?”

“For you to come back.”

He answers so longingly that it makes you almost shed a tear. For a moment, time stops. There is no wind, no sound, no scent, nothing. But just him. As if your entire world had become just him.

“... And if I didn’t come back?”

He slowly turns to look at you. A soft smile, of love. There wasn’t any desire in it. It was pure. Genuine. As he is in love with your soul and wishes to spend eternity with the thought of you. With your existence, whatever that was. To be one until the heavens and the earth collide.

“I would wait until you do.”

And for a second, the Prime no longer was. But just a spark. In his purest form. His faceplates open, he wants to say something but it's lost in words. He had given up so easily. Realizing that he has yet to find the right words to express his love for you. A love so vast that not even the best poets or writers could ever put into paper.

If he could go back in time and stop himself from becoming a Prime, he would. Because being an archivist would have made him more eloquent, maybe then, he could describe to you a small fraction of his endless adoration.

“Prime–”

“Guys!” Alex came out of the elevator, screaming and ruining the moment. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a message coming from Megatron!”

He tilts his head outside the elevator, blue eyes staring at the two of you. Noticing that he interrupted a romantic scenario, he just pointed a finger at the two of you.

“Prime we need you, please make-out quickly!”

And with that, Alex leaves as soon as he appeared.

“Well, now that you are here, I won’t be using this,” Optimus walks towards you and bends down on one knee. He is still too tall but you appreciate that he tries to see you faceplate to face. Using a servo, he caresses your hair and your soft skin. With so much adoration and devotion.

“I don’t have much time but I realized I haven’t thank you yet for carrying my Sparkling.”

He wants to hold you. Craving it. He wishes he could have time to tell you more. To whisper in your ears sweet things. To read to you the most lovely of poems. To just rot in a bed, indulging in nothing but love.

But he can’t. Not now.

“Creating a new life with you has been the greatest honor of my life.”

He stands up, walks past you. Leaving you at a shock, at a state of awe.

“Now, let us go,” he says. “Some things can’t wait.”

He'll wait until you call him by his first name again.

A/N: It was fun to write this. Optimus panicking and not understanding the changes he is going through. I think on this he has accepted that he may not win you back but that won't stop him from loving you and his sparkling. Meanwhile you are falling for him all over again.

I wrote this because y'all liked the concept for Counting Stars and supported it a lot! So thank you everyone so much for the support.

This was a one shot and I continued it because there was lots of love but I don't have a certain story-line. To be honest I don't know how to continue it.

For the next chapter (if there is one) I was thinking that Megatron accidentally sends Reader to the Dark Dimension where Reader meets Nemesis Prime. In this dimension, Optimus loses Reader and his Sparkling, transforming him into an evil being.

Meanwhile in Reader's dimension, Optimus is losing it. Slowly spiraling into madness at the thought of never seeing Reader and his Sparkling again. Destroying everything on sight, the Autobots fight to keep Optimus at bay.

The plot would end with Optimus and Nemesis fighting to see who would keep Reader.

That storyline would take around 2-3 chapters and it would conclude this story.

But that is just a thought, I still don't if I'll continue this since I really need to focus on writing the next chapter for 'The Darkest Hour'

And I am currently working on a oneshot bayverse Optimus fic too so please look forward to it!

Again thank you for reading and sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

See You in the next story!

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/771132293279580160/counting-stars?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/776307342250803200/counting-stars?source=share

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nsokolow · 5 months ago

Text

Transformers One: Charoite

Chapter Sixteen

Megatron’s holographic image projected from the little device.

“Charoite!” Megatron grinned. The determination in his eyes put Charoite off even more. “I see you have a medal!”

She was a surprised he brought it up. She forgot she was even wearing it. “Oh! Yeah!” She held it up. “Second place in Maccadam’s Race! Out of twenty-nine other bots. Jazz was first.”

Megatron smirked. “Yeah? His luck finally turned around, I guess. Then again, you’re probably getting all the attention.”

“Ha! That’s what the live transmission tried to make happen. I’m ‘back from the dead’ to Iacon.”

Megatron chortled. “Anyway, you have anything to share now? I know it hasn’t been long, but we’ve all been looking forward to any updates you might have.”

Charoite kept her expression as neutral as possible. “I…uh…there’s…”

Starscream, not as clearly, appeared in the hologram behind Megatron. “Well, come on! What do you know? I helped you get back to Iacon, so you at least owe me!”

Charoite frowned at him. “Well, I don’t think you’ll like hearing this, but there really aren’t a lot of secrets the Autobots could keep. They haven’t been around that long.”

All traces of enthusiasm disappeared from Megatron’s face. His red eyes flashed as his look hardened. “I seriously doubt that. Us Decepticons have been around just as long, and we have plenty of attacks plans and weaknesses the Autobots don’t know about. I haven’t even shared some of these things with Starscream, Shockwave, or Soundwave!”

In a panicked rush, Charoite wracked her brain module to find an answer. “I…uh…well…like you said, it hasn’t been that long. I haven’t even spent a night here yet. I did actually get some decorations for my room!”

Megatron sighed. “I guess I was rushing you a bit. Good of you to buy decorations. If you look like you’re planning to stay in the long run, they’ll be even more fooled. If somehow you can’t find any secrets, at least tell me about any plans they have—that is, where they’ll be and at what time. They, most importantly, Optimus, will hopefully be vulnerable for an attack at some point, and then I can take my rightful place as ruler of Cybertron.

“I’ll make sure to keep you updated—wait. That’s your goal? To rule Cybertron?”

Megatron’s apparent confusion embarrassed Charoite, but she was mostly worried.

“Uh…yeah. I thought it was clear.” Megatron frowned as his eyes shifted.

Charoite looked down and grabbed her arm. “Well, I mean, you talked about Optimus getting the Matrix and throwing you out of Iacon, but—”

Charoite jumped at the sudden, albeit soft knocks on the door.

Megatron’s eyes widened before he bent down and shut off the call.

“Come in!” Charoite asked. She hoped she didn’t sound scared.

A silver and light pink bot, the sides of her head large and round, opened the door and took a few steps in. “Hi! Just wanted to finally meet THE Charoite! I’m Arcee. I’m in the room next door!” Arcee extended her hand.

After hearing what Megatron told her, this femme’s friendliness towards her made her even more anxious about a future where Megatron ruled Cybertron. Were kind, nonjudgmental bots like her, B, Optimus, and maybe deep down Elita going to keep having good lives? It was great the Decepticons wanted a planet without deceitful leaders, but was that even all that would happen if they took control of Cybertron? Their aggressiveness, their ill-will toward their enemies…Megatron having ripped Sentinel in half in front of—”

“Are you okay?”

Charoite jolted out of her train of thought. She probably looked ridiculous, all silent and frozen when all this bot did was introduce herself.

“Oh, hi!” Charoite shook her hand. “Great to meet you, Arcee!”

“Wow…” Arcee chuckled softly, “…I can’t believe it’s really you, and you’re in the room next to mine! When Elita told me about it, she almost seemed sympathetic, but I told her I couldn’t wait to meet you! Congrats on the race, by the way!”

“Oh, uh, thanks!” Charoite slipped the medal off. “I mean, Jazz should really be getting more attention, since he’s the one that won, but I’m happy I won. It’s funny…B said he could fly, but he actually turns into a car. I guess it’s because his doors look like wings when he’s not transformed. Anyhow, I had to sneak my name onto the roster! It was fun!”

“No way! By the way…” Arcee lowered her voice, “…I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I just have to know, what was it like being with Sentinel? I mean, before we all found out he was evil.”

Charoite resisted the urge to tell her it actually was kind of insensitive. “It was…good, mostly. He was gorgeous, and really doted on me. He called me ‘Char,’ and I called him, ‘Sen.’” She started to feel good about opening up to another femme about this. Maybe it was a good thing Arcee asked! “He reeeeally wanted to keep it a secret until if and when we would decide to become sparkmates. It was annoying. He was also kind of controlling.”

Arcee’s face dropped. “Oh. I can see that.”

“He did take really good care of me, though. I also really loved the kisses and cuddles.”

Arcee giggled. “I bet! Such a shame he did all those awful things, though. You holding up okay?”

Charoite nodded. “I’m feeling a lot better than before, that’s for sure. I still have some adjusting to do. I mean, I went to the surface and came back to society being so different.”

“I know, right? I can’t imagine! Anyhow, I’ve gotta head out. Going to a former miner support group. Later! Great to meet THE Charoite!” Arcee waved and headed for the elevator.

Charoite’s worry about Megatron’s statement returned.

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gardens-light · 6 months ago

Text

Opposites Attract

Unlike his friend, D16 often kept his head down and followed protocol. Going through his usual routine one cycle after another, only stepping out of his normality whenever Orion Pax needed to be pulled out of trouble. Yet... he'd be lying, if he ever said his optics never occasionally drifted towards the one thing he's wanted. You. The High Guard that had stolen his spark, who's beauty could only be compared to the sparkling towers of Iacon. Something he could never touch and never to keep. For he accepted the fact you both were from different worlds. Something that not even one of the 'great plans' of Orion Pax could change... right...?

Content: D16/Megatron TFO x F/Cybertronian Reader. Fluff.

Toiling away under the flickering lights and constant hum of machinery. The cavernous walls of the mine glittered with the veins of energon, their iridescent glow faintly illuminating the surroundings.

As the others grinded away at the seams of energon, Orion Pax's gaze flickered up at D16, noticing the distracted expression upon his faceplate.

"Hey D. You ok?"

Startled and snapping out of his daze, D16 briefly looked over his shoulder. "Huh? Oh- yeah, yeah. I'm fine." he replied dismissively, casually returning his blank gaze back to the task at hand.

"You know I've got your back. Right...?"

"I know, I know you do, Orion. It's just... it's nothing. Really."

Orion lowered his tools, placing a hand on D16's shoulder as his movements became a bit more forceful, as if he was trying to take out his frustration on the cave walls.

Stiffening under his friend's touch, finally taking a moment of pause as he met Orion's concerned gaze.

"It's just... it's stupid. I honestly don't know why I'm even bothered by it." A heavy sigh escaped D16's lips, dropping his tools and leaning against the rocky wall behind him. "I... bumped into someone this morning before shift. It was a little thing really, but the simple shock of it... the shock of realizing who it was... I-I've never seen her in person before, only from the holos, but... Primus, Orion. She was... perfect!"

"Don't give me that look." He groaned, seeing the faint smile tugging on Orion's faceplate. "It's not like I have a chance with her. There's no universe where she'd be slightest bit of interested in some lowly mech like me-"

"C'mon D... don't be like that-"

"Why shouldn't I? It's the truth and you know it." D16 pushed himself off the wall and resumed his work. Wielding his tools with more force than necessary. The sharp ringing of metal against stone echoed throughout the cavern.

"Because there's gotta be more to life than just... this!" Orion protested, gesturing to their surroundings. "Don't you want to try and be more than what we're 'supposed' to be?-"

"What else are we supposed to be, then?!" D16 scowled, swinging his tool once more, causing a shower of sparks to fly up. The glow of the energon-flecked rock reflected off the planes of his face, casting deep shadows under his optics. For a brief moment, the harsh environment seemed to aged his otherwise youthful features. "We're miners! Built for this! Just because you have grand dreams and aspirations, doesn't mean the rest of us do!"

Orion flinched, pausing for moment before finding his voice again. "You're... not seriously gonna just admire this femme from afar...? I-I've seen the way you look at her. You adore her!-"

"It doesn't matter, Orion. She's far beyond me. I'm... just a simple miner, and she's a High Guard. There's no point in even entertaining the thought that I could ever... be with her."

"Why not? Who says you couldn't? You're just as good as any mech!-"

"Oh yeah! I'm sure she'd be enthralled by my rugged charm and the coal dust that's constantly clinging to my frame!" D16 bitterly laughed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I bet she'd swoon over the grease stains on my servos. And of course, the highlight! My endless stories of energon extraction- it just gets the femmes going every time! Clearly!"

Grinding away at the cavern wall, using the repetitive motion of his tools against the stone to distract him from the thoughts spinning through his processor. The dull ache in D16's servos felt like a welcomed relief compared to the turmoil in his spark. A small thorn of guilt pricked at his circuits, as he caught Orion's somber expression within the corner of his optic.

Both fell into a tense silence, the only sound of steady rhythmic clang of metal on stone dragging out till the end of their long shift.

---

Eventually the twelfth hour came to an end, D16 and Orion headed to the nearest exit along with their fellow miners. Grimy from the day's work, their servos stained and joins sore from exertion. D16 stretches lazily, trying to work out the kinks in his wiring, rolling his neck and shoulders as he walked beside Orion.

Raising an optic ridge, following his friend's gaze. D16's spark practically stutters when he spots you not far in the distance. A sweet smile framing your lips, as you spoke to another High Guard, your polished form standing out against the dingy backdrop of the mining station. D16's spark pulsed within it's chamber, sending zaps of electricity throughout his circuits, as if you're a magnet drawing him in. As you turned away from your fellow High Guard, the silver miner quickly avoided eye contact, secretly hoping you didn't notice him as he stared at the floor.

Hiding his mischievous smile, Orion slowed his pace a little. His gaze stubley peering up at you every so often, as the gap between you and his friend gradually closes. Secretly positioning himself slightly behind you, Orion quickly pushed you into D16.

His optics widen as you came crashing down on top of him, your sudden weight causing him to lose balance and fall onto his back with a surprised 'oof.'

"H-Hey! Watch where you're..." oh... Primus...

Subtle warmth slowly raised beneath his faceplates, as passers by raised an optic ridge at your... rather compromising position. Your tall yet slender frame caging D16 beneath you, while his servos hovered awkwardly above your waist.

"Ow..."

A jolt of electricity shot through him, a gasp slipping past his lips as your weight shifted onto his legs, straddling his lap. His servos itched towards your thighs, his amber optics watching the grime and dirt rub off onto your otherwise flawless paintwork. Quickly glancing up at you with an apologetic expression, as your optics flickered open.

"By the AllSpark! Are you ok?" your melody tone was filled with concern, as your soft gaze met his. "I-I honestly don't know what happened."

Taking a moment to collect himself, D16's servos involuntary slowly slid up and down your thighs. "I'm... I'm fine. No harm done... are you alright?"

A subtle heat rose to your faceplates, making them warm to the touch, as your optics flickered down at your thighs. Feeling the miner's calloused servos subconsciously caress your sooth metal.

Following your shy gaze, embarrassment flushed across D16's features. Quickly pulling his servos away and scrambling to sit up properly, his chassis brushing against yours. His optics nervously darting around, attempting to avoid your gaze while his spark wildly pulsed within its chamber.

Both raising onto your peds, and after a brief moment of hesitation. The miner's gaze slowly trailed up your form, as you brushed off the coal dust and grime.

"Primus... s-sorry about that." A pang of guilt struck his inner-circuits, while D16 fussed over you. His spark skipping a beat as you gave him a sweet smile. The warmth of your body made his processor go all fuzzy, not being able to string a single thought.

"Thank you-"

"D! There you are! I've been looking for you." Orion's cheerful voice interrupted. Pulling his usual warm smile, ignoring his friend's annoyed glare as Orion wrapped an arm around D16's shoulders. "Please forgive my clumsy friend, ma'am. If you'll allow it, he'd would like to properly apologize for this whole inconvenience. Perhaps over some energon? His treat, of course."

What?! D16's optics widened, as his glare narrowed onto his friend. For sparks sake, Orion! Now isn't the time to conjure up one of your 'master plans!'

You held up your servos. "Oh... that's very sweet. But he doesn't-"

"Nonsense. He insists. Right, buddy?"

Not wanting to bring anymore attention, than Orion already did. D16 slowly nodded, as an irritated huff escaped him.

His optics flickered towards you, as your sweet chuckles came to his audio receivers. Clearly finding somewhat some form of amusement, as the miner obviously looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Very well... if he insists. U-Um... when?"

"How about this evening?" Orion's smile widened, clapping a hand upon D16's shoulder, who subtly cringed under his friend's touch. "D knows a great energon bar down the way, The Cranked Gear. Very laid-back atmosphere, perfect for a casual... meeting."

The warmth beneath D16's plates rose, as he caught a glimpse of your sweet smile. Your soft gaze roaming over his frame, "sounds great. See you later... D."

"What. The. Fragg was that?!" the silver miner snapped once you were out of earshot. A mixture of disbelief and frustration etched into his faceplates, "you set me up!"

"Hey... I was just trying to help." Orion held up his servos in surrender. "Plus, it proves you have a chance with her-"

"Are you kidding me? There's no chance!" D16 threw his servos up in exasperation, his inner-circuits coiling with tension. "She's a High Guard. I'm a cogless miner-bot. We're practically from different worlds! What am I supposed to do? Just sit there and make a fool of myself?"

A weak smile came to Orion, shrugging as he tried to give D16 some form of reassurance. "From... what I've heard. You kinda just... sit there and talk when you're on a date."

"Gee, thanks for the helpful advice." D16 frowned, his tone dripping in sarcasm. "I'll just sit there and chat about the weather and my thrilling work in energon extraction." A low groan escaped his lips, while pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know why or how I let you talk me into things, y'know..." This is gonna be a disaster.

Later That Evening

Rocking upon his heels, shifting nervously from pede to pede. A subtle hopeful expression etched upon his features, as D16 glanced around for you.

No sign of her yet...

Taking a deep breath, trying to steady his spark and nerves. While his processor ran through potential conversation topics, attempting to prepare something interesting to say. A sigh escaping his lips, as D16 looked down at himself, suddenly hyper-aware of his frame. His rough, dull plating starkly stood out against the sleek finish of the other mechs in the vicinity.

Hopefully... she's not too put off by my rough exterior-

"Good evening... hopefully you haven't been waiting long."

Your soft tone snapped him out of his thoughts, his wide eyed stare roaming over your newly polished figure. "No! Uh, I mean... no. I just got here... you look..."

"What...?" you quickly looked down at yourself. Examining particular spots over your frame, "do I still have coal dust on me or something?"

"No! No! You look good. Great, even. Better than great!" fragging idiot. "Um... shall we...?"

Giving him a brief smile, you followed D16's lead into the bar. Sunken ceiling lights lit the area with a warm, gentle hue. The atmosphere bustling with chatter and laughter. Making your way through the clutter of tables and chairs, D16 could practically feel the surprised and confused expressions of the patrons, as they took in your presence.

He knew that the pair of you must make quite the duo, a miner and a High Guard. While guiding the way through the bar, his optics narrowed onto the nearest bots, silently daring them to say something. Leading you to a more secluded booth in the far corner, the lights became slightly more dim, creating more intimate feel. While the patrons chatter reduced to lulled muffle.

Your smile slightly widened, as D16 pulled out a seat for you. Politely waiting til you were settled before taking a seat opposite you.

"So... uh... how was your day?" his voice was uncharacteristically low, while his digits anxiously fidgeted wit the edge of the table. Seriously? That's the best you can come up with? Come on!

"Um... alright. Nothing out of the ordinary."

The awkward tension slowly eased into the space between you, as D16's processor scrambled for a new topic.

"That's good... My shift down in the mines was pretty normal. Just the... usual amount of ore. No issues with the equipment- well, one drill malfunctioned. But we fixed it quick enough."

D16's spark nervously pulsed through his wires, as you flashed him a weak smile. Replying with a simple nod, "oh... um, sounds... eventful? Would you... like to order some energon?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I, uh, should probably warn you though. The stuff they serve here isn't exactly the most refined. It's... got a kind of a bite to it."

After answering with shrug, D16 took the cue to approach the nearby bar. The bartender passed him the drinks with a knowing glance, only to be greeted with the miner's glare in return. Knowing full well that the whole bar was undoubtedly watching him, make his way back to you.

Settling himself back into his seat, carefully sliding your drink towards you. As he took a sip from his own, the smooth taste a momentary distraction from the awkward tension.

Noticing your half-hearted smile, a pang of guilt thumped within his spark. This a complete fragging diseater! Why can't I say anything? I can practically feel this whole thing already crashing and burning in front of me!-

"What's... that on your shoulder?"

"Huh?" D16 followed your gaze, briefly noticing you pausing from your drink. A subtle warmth radiated beneath his faceplates as embarrassment swept through his frame. "Oh, uh, that's just... a sticker. My friend, Orion put it there a while ago, and I... forgot to remove it-"

"Oh no. Don't remove it." The tone of your voice peaked a little, as your gaze softened. Admiring the sticker's holographic shine. "It looks good on you. You should see my stasis pod in my private quarters."

A shy smile lit up his features, as D16's spark fluttered within it's chamber. "Y-You... you think so? I, uh... I appreciate that. And... what's on your stasis pod?"

"My favorite, Solus Prime. But I promise it's only a small sticker."

"Ah, a Solus fan, eh?" a small chuckle escaped his lips. Optics shining with a glimmer of amusement. "Not too shabby. Can't blame you, she was a badass warrior. And... only a small sticker, you say?"

Holding up your servo, almost pinching the air between your thumb and index digit. "This small. Nothing too crazy."

"Oh, phew." A light laugh escaped his lips, as D16 mockly wiped an invisible bead of condensation upon his forehelm. "I was worried you had her face on a full sized wall mural. But just a little sticker? That's much more reasonable."

Your sweet chuckles rung through the air between the pair of you, like a sweet melody. Lifting the awkwardness that lingered before, finally giving him the chance to actually feel connected with you.

Feeling a bit more emboldened, D16 continued. "Seriously. Solus is a solid choice. But I'd have to go with Megatronus, personally."

Raising an optic ridge, while tilting your helm to the side. "What draws to you him?"

Leaning back in his seat, a look of admiration sparkled within his optics. "Well, apart from being the most fearsome warrior in Cybertron's history. He was also a brilliant strategist! He could take on any opponent and come out on top! Plus, he's just... so incredibly powerful. Unstoppable really! I guess I've... always looked up to him for that kind of strength."

A small smile teased the corner of your lips, trying to hide it behind your cup. "That's very true. I gotta admit that he's a total badass."

"Oh. He's definitely a badass! I remember reading tales about his battles against the Quintessons, and let me tell you. They're the stuff of legend! He could take on an entire army by himself and come out with nothing but a scratch."

"Careful." Your teasing tone purred. "Your fanboy is showing."

The warmth beneath his faceplates grow even more, as embarrassment crept back into his frame. Clearing his vocal processor, attempting to return to his usual demeanor while his spark skipped a beat. "What? I'm just stating facts."

Taking the last sip from your drink, your soft gaze trailed down his chassis. D16 subconsciously shifts his body, covering his cogless chamber. His spark pulsing more, avoiding your gaze while taking another mouthful of his drink.

A lull ache pulsed throughout your frame, guilt jabbing your at your spark. "Forgive me... I-I shouldn't have starred-"

"It's... It's fine." The lull ache within you begun to painfully prick at your spark, as D16's words held a more rougher edge than he intended. "You were just curious. I don't blame you."

A subtle blanket of awkward silence slowly crept back into the air, as hesitation temporarily stole your words. A flicker of surprise flashed within D16's optics, as his soft gaze noticed your servo edging closer to him across the table. Breath almost got stuck in his vents as he met your optics, the colour shining with genuine curiosity and a hint of compassion.

The question swirling within your processor, softly escaped your lips in just above a whisper. "Can I...?"

Answering with a simple nod. D16 flinched slightly as you touched his cogless chamber, as if bracing himself for judgement or ridicule. Yet your expression remained soft, a hint of... affection? Flickering within your optics. As your digits gently traced the otter rim of his circular chamber, a strange sense of comfort washed over him. The gesture surprisingly tender, as he found himself relaxing under your touch.

"It's... It's a pretty pathetic sight... isn't it?"

Another prang of guilt pulsed throughout your inner-circuits, as you picked up the subtle shame hiding within D16's words. "What? No! No, of course not. Just... different..."

"Different? That's one way to put it." D16's tone held a bitter edge, while a scoff escaped him. "I mean... look at me. A cogless miner bot. I'm a pathetic excuse for a Cybertronian."

Great... Hanging his head low, a heavy sigh escaped him. Why did you steer the conversation in that direction? You idiot!-

Crunch!

Snap!

D16's optics widened as he witnessed you tear away a small section of your forearm. His puzzled gaze flickering to the soft smile upon your lips, your optics shining with kindness as an idea crossed your processor.

"Wait! What are you doing?-"

Your soft smile, sweetened as you leaned back in your seat. Purposely positioning yourself just out of his reach, while you worked on the scrap piece of metal. Only taking a few moments to flatten it, using the table's edge to smooth and round off the edges, before holding up the now makeshift disk for inspection.

"I... know it's not real." D16's spark fluttered within his chassis, as his wide optics met your loving gaze. His breath hitching as you reached across the table, placing the makeshift disk into his empty cog chamber. "But maybe... a part of me could be... your 'cog?'"

Staring down at the makeshift 'cog' which now rested in the chamber, a hopeful pulse beat through your inner circuits as your spark skipped.

For a moment, he couldn't find the words to express the swirling emotions within his spark. Surprise, gratitude, affection... They all crashed together in a wonderful mess.

"I-I... I don't know what to say. This is..." D16 slowly placed a servo over his cog chamber, feeling the shape of his new 'cog' inside.

The act itself wasn't just incredibly kind but... surprisingly intimate. The fact that you would willingly give up a part of yourself for him. To make him feel more... complete.

I-I... would never believed... never have imagined...

H-Have I... overstepped somehow? You nervously swallowed a lump in your vocal processor. Was it too much?

But the invisible tug upon the corners of his lips, was enough to slowly calm your racing spark. For he couldn't help but stare at you in quiet awe, as D16's processor still reel from your act. He gently reached a servo across the table, resting it atop your own. A silent gesture of gratitude and affection, while his optics met yours.

"Th-This... was unexpected- wonderful! Thoughtful! But just... unexpected..." he lowly spoke. "How could I ever thank you?"

"Well..." your sweet smile turned slightly flirty, as your thumb caressed D16's knuckles. "Maybe... you could demonstrate your strength to me? I... heard miners are strong."

D16's faceplates heats up at your flirtatious tone, a rush of nervous excitement tingles pulsed throughout his frame.

"O-Oh..." his amber optics glanced around the bar, making sure nobody was eavesdropping as he returned your smile. "And... how would you like me to demonstrate that? Perhaps somewhere more... private?"

Butterflies entangled your wires, as D16's servo took yours in a slightly tighter grip. "Where did you have in mind?"

His breath hitched a little, feeling you checking him out. The touch of your servo beneath his sent a shiver through his circuits. Gradual confidence filled his spark, as he leaned in a bit further, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "I know a secluded spot not too far from here. It'll give us all the privacy we need for a... rigorous demonstration."

"Sounds perfect."

D16 gives you a sly smile, his frame buzzing with anticipation as you softly bit your bottom lip. Sliding out of the booth, his optics meeting yours. Extending a servo out to you, a silent offer to follow him. "This way gorgeous."

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