earthsparked

[earthsparked]

Following Rewind around and narrating what everyone is doing like it’s a nature documentary

In this gathering place known as Swerve’s we see many mechs come to quench their thirst and socialize with others. But this is not without danger. Predators are on the prowl, some hiding in plain sight, waiting for the opportunity to strike the unwary

Getaway, robo-sweating: Rewind, why is it looking at me like that

-

Here on the bridge, the old alpha is challenged by the young alpha, who seeks to assert dominance. The young alpha is strong and foolish, the old alpha is wise and tired. Caught in the middle is the lorekeeper whose word is law, but is often ignored in these skirmishes that determine the pecking order.

Rodimus: Aw, you think I’m strong? Wait, what do you mean foolish?

Megatron: That is self-evident, if you were paying attention.

Ultra Magnus: Neither of you are seeing the actual problem here. Why is the ship’s human blue?

-

Deep in the bowels of the ship -

Whirl: Heh, you said bowels.

- a member of the pack has been shunned for a harmless and very funny prank involving blue dye.

Whirl: See, Cyclonus, even they think it’s funny! Now let me out!

Unfortunately, the antisocial behavior is not without consequences among the pack, many of whom are overprotective of their much smaller companion species.

Cyclonus: Perhaps you should continue this elsewhere, Rewind.

-

These are the remains of a sparkeater, which have been dressed up with Mardi Gras beads, holding a sign that says “tits or gtfo.” It serves as an example to other sparkeaters that humans don’t like it when their friends get eaten. It also deeply unsettles many of the pack, which is good as it keeps them on their toes. Pedes, sorry, thanks Rewind.

-

This is the medbay -

*A loud clang and yelling*

- which we will not be filming today.

-

Here we see a Spectralist in his natural habitat, meditating upon his personal journey in life, and hopefully, how far he has come. He is a fierce defender of the pack and a loyal friend and warrior, but his true nature is one of a peacemaker and spiritual leader. His battle scars tell of many victories, showing his - wait no, Drift, please don’t cry, Drift you’re hugging me too tightly I can’t breathe

[earthsparked]

First of all I am treasuring your posts. I love x reader romantic stuff but your stuff? Just simple, platonic almost domestic and silly and cute stuff?? I cherish every single one 

Little nervous to send in an ask but something I think would take the bots by surprise about humans is the fact that - despite how similar we look to autobots, and how distressingly fragile we are, one wrong step from an autobot and we’d be human paste on the floor - adrenaline junkies are a thing

Skydiving: Like yes, if we fall from a large height and drop straight down, there is a 100% guarantee we’d die, and yet some of us still like to fly up in a plane and then throw ourselves out of it with what is essentially a giant bag to slow our fall for fun. Yeah the big bag that’s supposed to slow our fall could get tangled or ripped but, ya know, not everything can be perfect

Shark cave diving: yeah there’s this giant underwater predator that could easily kill us, and could track us from blood alone from up to a quarter of a mile away. But, it’s pettable, so we designed a cage that drops us into the water to be close to them. Hm? Oh no we don’t have anything for self defence, just breathing equipment 

Bungee-jumping: imagine skydiving, only this time, we don’t have that big parachute. Just rope attached to our feet. We just jump into this ravine thing and hope to god the rope doesn’t break

Fire breathing the bots don’t even want to know, because SURELY you’re joking?? You didn’t just put the words fire and breathing together in the same sentence. That’s a joke. You don’t ACTUALLY do that right?? Que their shock when their very nonchalant human friend shrugs and is like “Oh yeah we do that fun…oh and sword eating, that’s kinda similar” I can see the bots having mixed reactions. Some of them are thinking “How is this species still alive?!” others are realising why humans are at the top of the food chain on earth, some are low key impressed, and some of them are now watching them like a hawk, because now they worry that there is a very real chance their human is just going to impulsively try to eat energon for the lols

Thank you so much!! I’ve really had a lot of fun with it, and I’m thrilled people have found something of value 💖

Yeah, they’d have to come to terms with some humans being way less risk-averse than others. There’s people who’d jump at the chance to climb Mt Everest despite the hazards, and then there’s people who would rather get a root canal than spend a weekend camping in the woods. These two types of people sort of balance out with keeping each other alive vs. remembering that it’s okay to take risks sometimes!

Mech staring at videos of wingsuiters: Do all of you do that? Do YOU do that?

Human, in PJs watching Love Island: no but I did drive around for six months with an expired license

[earthsparked]

it would be funny trying to explain uncanny valley to the bots and having them find it kind of odd,, like they don't really understand how something that looks completely human but isn't could set off so many uncomfortable feelings and alarm bells

until they have a scenario where you have to be in disguise with a cybertronian holomatter avatar and they're just like "oh god, no i get it." and being completely freaked out with how haywire it sends their processors

It would be even weirder because we have such similar body language (whether naturally or because they’ve tried to adopt some of ours to fit in better), but humans are flexible and bendy and you’d be trying to move all wrong in ways that a mech just can’t. Not to mention getting used to the size difference??

You’re just having fun and they’re gonna be standing on one side of the room watching this going

[earthsparked]

I think a really interesting thing about Earth that I don't think many people have talked about is how vastly different the climate can be when you drive just a few hours to another location.

Example. Most of my family from my dad's side live in El Salvador, and it gets hot over there. In San Miguel, at worst, it feels like the sun has taken a magnifying glass to YOU specifically and wants to cook you lobster red.

But! Drive a few hours away (sometimes not even thirty minutes), and suddenly, the sun has gotten a little nicer (but will still bake you if you let it).

And don't get me started on the rain. One moment, it's just cloudy, and the next, you're drenched in both sweat and rain water and trying to find shelter or maybe your car. Believe me. I've experienced it. It isn't pretty. Or dry.

Anyway. While it is fun to talk about how funny it would be for our favorite transformers to experience things such as different climates, it would be even more funnier for them to experience just how quickly those same climates can change and how just by driving a few hours you're suddenly in a different climate all together.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk Part #2.

Yes! And we can take that bigger, too.

You know how in a lot of scifi there’s a lot of planets that are all one environment? Desert planet! Ocean world! Jungle planet! Cybertron is like…metal world.

So they show up to our little Goldilocks zone paradise and there’s a zillion different geographical zones and climates and microclimates and it’s mind-blowing how much diversity there is

And yet some of it is so specialized??

Venus flytraps exist in the wild only in the area in green. like that’s IT.

The looks on their faces when they realize that a being like a Cybertronian could easily wipe out an entire species of life on Earth in an afternoon

That our beautiful world full of wonder is delicately interconnected and fragile

And then they come, neither delicate nor interconnected, nor an inherent part of the ecology the way we evolved to be

Makes you maybe understand the sheer level of panic attack poor Optimus had when he Got It. No wonder he went “Autobots, watch the FUCK where you step or you’ll be patrolling Pluto for the rest of the war”

[earthsparked]

Rodimus panicking and dumping jewelry on you until you can hardly move because Thunderclash and his cohort of humans are visiting, and his human has to be shinier than those other humans

[earthsparked]

Thank you @livingroomhorse and everyone who got me to 3000 reblogs! (AHHH????)

Wow, everyone sure does love alien robots I guess

Imagine being part of the coterie, but you’re the only ship’s human on the Lost Light because no one else wants to deal with being around Megatron. You love it, but over time you miss other humans.

One day this guy just pops up out of nowhere

And you blink and throw your arms around him because nonthreatening human in your immediate area available for hugging

Rung: oh! I’m glad you like my holoform!

You: less talking more hugging please. also I’m going to ruffle your hair now

The mechs figure out how starved you are for contact and next thing you know, they all have holomatter generators. you’re getting tackled by Whirl and snuggled by Swerve and nearly squished by Rodimus (it’s ok, Ultra Magnus stopped him before you passed out)

[earthsparked]

Rodimus: whatever. go my human

You:

[earthsparked]

You: Hey Brainstorm, if you can make a generator that creates a human holoform that expresses a mech’s innermost self, can you make one that creates a mech holoform of a human’s innermost self? 👀

Perceptor: No.

Ratchet: NO.

Megatron: Absolutely not.

Tailgate: they would be so cute, do it 🥰

Nautica: I’m not sure that’s wise?

Whirl: If you aren’t a mini-me as a fake mech I’m going to take it as a personal insult and throw you out of a real airlock

Ultra Magnus: That is against article forty seven section eight chapter ninety five of -

Rodimus: Y- OUCH! Megatron you’re on my pede!

Brainstorm: 👀 YES

[earthsparked]

Imagine being part of the coterie, but you’re the only ship’s human on the Lost Light because no one else wants to deal with being around Megatron. You love it, but over time you miss other humans.

One day this guy just pops up out of nowhere

And you blink and throw your arms around him because nonthreatening human in your immediate area available for hugging

Rung: oh! I’m glad you like my holoform!

You: less talking more hugging please. also I’m going to ruffle your hair now

The mechs figure out how starved you are for contact and next thing you know, they all have holomatter generators. you’re getting tackled by Whirl and snuggled by Swerve and nearly squished by Rodimus (it’s ok, Ultra Magnus stopped him before you passed out)

[earthsparked]

Fun bonding activity with your mechs:

Paint your mouth with glow-in-the-dark paint and tell them you ate the Walmart shrimp

Watch as they google it

[earthsparked]

Ratchet, just staring:

Optimus, trying not to move: Ratchet…

You, your hair stuck in the joints of his servos: No, Optimus, let him have this one

[earthsparked]

FIC NOTICE!

Parts 1-4 of Acolyte have been posted I posted three and four back to back!

Acolyte Part I Acolyte Part II Acolyte Part III Acolyte Part IV

Part 5 to come Epilogue to come

YEAH kinda just wanted to power through this one! Sorry, muse gonna muse!

[earthsparked]

Idk about you but if I’m being completely honest I’d develop the biggest inferiority complex if I were constantly surrounded by beings that were basically us but better in every way. Like sure they like us and all, but when you see how much more efficient and (almost) everything resistant are I’d prolly try to make myself even smaller

Optimus Prime is looking at you sadly for saying he is better than you. You have made Optimus Prime sad. :( He is on his way to your location right now with ice cream and a pep talk

It would go something like

Every species has their own strengths and weaknesses. You say that my people are more efficient, but to what end have we put that efficiency? To destruction that has led us to the brink. Our resistance, our weapons, our strength has grown not out of desire to survive, but out of necessity in fighting an escalating war that has cost countless lives. It is not something I celebrate.

Yet you, who evolved from life on a planet that cares nothing for your survival. You endure for the sake of life itself. In your weakness, I see strength. In your small stature, I see greatness. It is not our natures but our actions that define us. Your story is still being written. Stand tall. You deserve no less than to look us in the optic as equals.

[earthsparked]

FIC NOTICE!

Parts 1-4 of Acolyte have been posted I posted three and four back to back!

Acolyte Part I Acolyte Part II Acolyte Part III Acolyte Part IV

Part 5 to come Epilogue to come

YEAH kinda just wanted to power through this one! Sorry, muse gonna muse!

[earthsparked]

Acolyte Part IV

Part four of the third piece of writing for my 400 followers poll! I don't have an excuse, man, this just grew a mind of its own. Acolyte Part I Acolyte Part II Acolyte Part III

Reader & Sunstorm (?) • Found/adopted family • Ao3 Link

You aren't an idiot. You know when you're in over your head. This mech is a zealot, and whatever he's planning to do, it doesn't sound like anything good for you or the other children of Earth. Or the children of Cybertron, for that matter. What affects one, affects the other. You have no idea what had blinded him to the ancient wisdom, but it doesn't matter. What matters is making sure he doesn't hurt anyone.

But Sunstorm doesn't trust you, won't let you in on the secret no matter how hard you try to coax it from him. He speaks only in vague terms, grandiose and confusing. You make attempts to pry into his files, but without success. Trying to sneak around a Seeker, unable to hide your EM field from the mech, makes you fear pushing too hard. Humans all learn from childhood how to manage your breathing and emotions. You were taught techniques that could make you harder to read, in case you wanted your privacy around a mech. But they aren't foolproof, and certainly won't stand up to true scrutiny. Still. When it became clear he was keeping you separated from other mechs, not even allowing you contact with other humans...

You start quietly stashing away food and other supplies, and make a plan to escape. To get to Bumblebee, the only other mech you've ever met. Or if you can get a message to your village elder? If she'd had a close enough relationship to be gifted her mech's innermost energon, she undoubtedly still has a way to contact whoever it was. They could send help, root out whatever Sunstorm is planning. Failing that, since you don't even know where Bumblebee lives, you can to run to the Science Academy. They have mechs who should at least listen, and give you access to a communicator.

You begin carrying your old pack with you everywhere, full of supplies you've secreted away in case the opportunity to run comes when you aren't expecting it. You retrieve your bracelet from the closet and zip into a pouch. You hadn't felt right taking it off. It gives you some small comfort to have it back now.

The day Sunstorm had spoken of, comes before you can put your plan into action. You know something is wrong when he rouses you from sleep before dawn, impatiently demanding you dress in the ceremonial robes he'd had made for you.

It is time. Things are prepared. Today, I will bare my spark to you. But not here. We must be in a special place, a holy place. Where light can destroy darkness, and in separation we will find the purity of Primus once more. As it should be.

You want to run. But where? How? You dress in the thick, heavy robes. They're pure white with sashes matching Sunstorm's unpleasant shade of golden-yellow. Egotistical bastard, whatever else he is. You feel dread bubbling up in you as you dress. You carry your pack with you, hidden under the voluminous robes, on the off chance you might find that opportunity at the last moment. Humans don't give up, not even when things look grim. You'll try and find a way.

You climb anxiously into his cockpit, looking down on the beautiful city you haven't even had the chance to properly get to know. You wonder if it's the last time you'll get to see it. He must sense your trepidation.

Do not be afraid, my acolyte. Today you become a servant of Primus.

You remain silent, biting your lip as he clicks the harness into place.

Sunstorm launches into the sky. You fly for a long time, passing over what looks like part of the Rust Sea, and some of the wide-open plains where only hardy creatures like turbofoxes and scrub-dwellers live, fighting among themselves for energon. You stay awake this time, your heart aching for what could have been. You wonder, briefly, if it would be better to leap to your death when you get where you're going. Unicron would welcome you into the Freedom-Giver's arms, but what about everyone else? If only you'd been able to figure out what Sunstorm meant with all his cryptic words.

It seems impossible that basic human needs would intrude at a time like this, but you're thirsty. Flying does that to you. You shuffle around until you can get a hand into your pack, and dig through it for one of your water canteens. Instead your hand touches something small and round and familiar at the very bottom of the pack. You jerk back expecting to be shocked, but when no shock comes, you tentatively reach for it and pull it out. You have to bite your tongue to keep from reacting. It's the emergency transponder. Blue-hair's, the one that broke when you dragged her out of the chasm. But it had been broken, the wiring exposed and cracked to pieces, enough so that it threw off sparks.

It's been repaired. You try to stay calm as you sneak it into your palm and use your other hand to retrieve a water bottle. You slip the transponder into your extra-large sleeve, hiding it in a fold, and take a long drink of water. Someone repaired the transponder. Someone had gone back and gotten your backpack from the middle of nowhere in the Umbral Lands. They'd found the broken transponder, they'd fixed it, and then they had somehow found you all the way in Vos and given it back to you. All without you ever noticing them. And presumably, without Sunstorm ever noticing them.

A chill goes down your spine. Someone has been watching you. Perhaps even since you came through the labyrinth. And if they've been watching you...perhaps that means they've been watching Sunstorm.

Your powerful human intuition tells you that your emergency transponder's codes have been reprogrammed. That it doesn't contact your village anymore. It will contact whoever it was that repaired it, and gave it back to you. You could be wrong, but right now, it's your only hope.

You take a soft breath, tell Unicron I might be seeing you soon, and press the transponder button. Nothing happens, which is good. If something had happened to alert Sunstorm, it would defeat the purpose of trying to contact whoever is, maybe trying to help you. You decide to pull your bracelet out, too, and put it on. Sunstorm won't notice it under the getup you're wearing. It brings you comfort to run your fingers over the small piece of rock.

Your thoughts of possibly jumping to your own demise are thoroughly derailed when Sunstorm flies inside a great cave, out in the middle of nowhere. You wonder what in the world makes this place holy, until he slows enough that you can see it. Veins of energon run freely through the rock, and through an enormous river that spills out of the cavern's mouth. It surrounds you with a soft pink glow that's rather pretty. You can admire it even if it's deadly to you. Primus the god of creation holds the power of destruction as much as Unicron does, for all that many of the Cybertronians don't like to think of him that way.

At last Sunstorm stops and lands, transforming around you once more. You shudder uncomfortably; you hate when he does that. But he seems unwilling to let you out of his servos, now that you've arrived.

This is a cavern closest to where Primus' great spark resides beneath us. It is a holy place. Here you can be made clean, my acolyte, and fulfill your purpose.

You nod absently, still looking down at the river of energon. Your people have your own beliefs about where Unicron's spark resides. But it's carefully tended by your own priests, not abandoned like this...? As Sunstorm carries you into the cavern, though, you see it's not as abandoned as you'd thought. There's a circle of mechs waiting at the very back of the cave, where a great fountain lets the energon stream forth and form the river. It looks impossibly old, perhaps even carved out in the ancient days when the Cybertronians lived very differently than they do now, and your own people were still learning what it was to be sentient. The top-most part of it...looks an awful lot like an altar.

Children of Primus! I have come! And I have brought with me the child of Unicron as I said I would. Sunstorm's wings are upright and quivering with pride. His red optics are bright and fierce, his golden voice full of fanatic purpose.

Hail, Child of Primus! the circle of mechs echoed.

Oh. Fantastic. The bastard's a cult leader. You frantically mash the transponder button over and over. Where the frag is your help? Maybe you were wrong. Maybe someone just fixed it and didn't change the code, and right now some very confused people in the village back on Earth are wondering why an acolyte's summoning them from the other side of the world. Then Sunstorm lifts you unexpectedly, and you gasp and drop the transponder. It falls from your grip and into the river of energon. Well, you think. I'm fucking fragged.

Too long have we lived in a world that accepts the evil of Unicron to coexist with the goodness of Primus! Sunstorm exclaims, working up the group. Too long have we, the righteous, been forced into hiding for our beliefs! Who among us has not been told to simply follow the old wisdom of duality? But they have all been deceived! Unicron the Devourer will destroy us all - unless we separate Cybertron from Earth, Primus from Unicron!

You are the stupidest motherfragger that I have ever, ever met, you say out loud. What's the point of hiding it? You're about to die, and if anything about the old stories are true, this loser is trying to start the apocalypse.

And that shade of yellow doesn't look good on you! It wouldn't look good on anybody! In fact - you start trying to strip off the robes. Frag this, frag you and I hope Primus resparks you as a WEED WHACKER!

You're pretty sure you hear one of the mechs stifle a laugh. But Sunstorm doesn't seem bothered by you. He only lifts you up and, yes, lays you down on your back on the part of the fountain that's definitely an altar. He pins you down with one servo, and gently smooths back your hair, away from your neck.

It is not your fault that you were born of Unicron, but neither can your kind be allowed to remain. Know that as you die, your sacrifice in this holy place combined with the inimitable power of my unique spark will wake both Primus and Unicron, and allow the will of Primus to be done. Good will triumph over evil, creation over destruction, life over death! I do not do this because I hate you, little one. I do this to set us all free.

He secures you to the altar with thick metal cables, and then at long last, Sunstorm begins to open his spark chamber. The thing you had wanted to see so badly, all those years ago, when it meant that someone wanted you. Treasured you. It seems such a small thing now, but tears still slide down your face as you fight against the bindings.

Words come to your lips that you spit at him like venom, like truth.

I was born free, Child of Primus, and I'll die free too.

He opens his spark chamber, and the world goes sideways. Your vision fills with crackles and pops of static. The other mechs gasp and move away. Something is very, very wrong with this mech. You've known that from the start, but you didn't realize that it ran spark-deep. You've only ever seen mechs' sparks from a distance, before, and then Bumblebee's close-up as he retrieved blue-hair.

It's immediately apparent that not only is Sunstorm's very spark strange, the surrounding structures in his chest are, too. They make a sound like something warbling, spinning up almost like engines, pulsing in a way that you can feel in your back teeth. It hurts. It hurts and you cry out, as you're subsumed by the light.

[let me in]

In the background, you hear sudden shouts and - gunfire? The sound of metal on metal. The noise of pulse cannons, and then someone shouting Are you mad, we're in a cave of energon! You'll blow us all up!

You can't focus on anything past the pain. It shouldn't hurt. Sparklight is not dangerous to humans. Why is it so painful? It crawls beneath your skin like marching ants, and you thrash on the altar.

[before it's too late]

The air is hot and hurts to breathe. You gasp for air. You think you've gone blind in the brightness, all tinted with ugly golden-yellow. Or maybe your eyes have simply stopped working.

[I cannot help you unless you let me in. It must be your choice. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. I will not take that from you, even now.]

You feel something reach out over you, going for the delicate skin of your throat. You remember those sharp talons that had grabbed you the first night, remember their razor edges. And with everything in you, you say -

yes.

The ground begins to shake.

With a subsonic groan of metal, something impossibly large beneath you shifts. The river of energon surges forth, fountaining into the air. The claws hovering over you draw back. And something blooms inside you. It unfurls like the first leaves of spring, like a baby bird pecking its way forth from the egg, like the rays of the sun peeking over the horizon to herald the dawn. It's familiar. It doesn't hurt. You feel safe for the first time in a very long time. You sigh, and willingly sink into a soft haze.

The metal around you snaps, the pieces flying into hunks of shrapnel. Your body lifts from the altar. The noise of fighting continues, but Sunstorm is still there with his spark chamber on display.

Something very old, very tired, and very angry speaks to him.

[YOU FORGET YOURSELF, CHILD OF PRIMUS.]

The voice leaving your mouth is yours, and not. It's yours and more. You raise your hand, or it raises itself, the robe's sleeve falling back to reveal the bracelet you wear. The chunk of dark energon glows bright as any spark, lighting the cavern and drowning out the pinkish color of energon. Energy cannot be created nor destroyed. Only changed. And as your hand reaches out to curl and point accusingly at Sunstorm, all around you, the erupting river of energon turns purple. Turns dark. The voice thunders.

[YOU HAVE BROKEN THE BALANCE.]

Sunstorm transforms his hand into a plasma rifle and begins firing directly at you. There is no emotion on his faceplates or in his optics but sheer hatred. The ground shakes again, sending rock crumbling from the ceiling to splash into the river, which flows now with the rich purple hues of dark energon.

You, or your body, walks toward him. The energy blasts simply fade away into the ground. As you walk, the veins of energon in the cave where you step cease to glow pink, transformed into veins of dark purple. The others seem to have noticed at last, because the fighting has stopped.

[YOU HAVE FORSAKEN PEACE.]

The other mechs - the ones still alive, anyway - part like a sea as you press forward toward Sunstorm. He snarls and keeps firing, screaming Cowards! Help me! None of you are worthy of Primus' light!

[YOU CALL YOURSELF THE WILL OF MY BROTHER, WHEN YOU KNOW NOTHING OF IT.]

It must be a strange sight, an unarmed human stalking down a giant Seeker with predatory intent.

Sunstorm reaches the back of the cavern. His plasma cannon is overheating, begins melting as he realizes he has nowhere to go. You walk through the center of the assembled mechs, barely even noticing them.

[YOU SEEK TO SPILL THE BLOOD OF MY CHILD IN THIS HOLY PLACE, AND THINK PRIMUS IS PLEASED?]

Your teeth are bared in a silent snarl. You see your reflection in the shimmering river as you press forward, slow and inevitable like the persistence hunter you are. Like chaos. Like change. Like destruction. Your eyes are glowing purple.

[YOU BROKE BOND WITH YOUR COUSINS.]

[YOU HAVE ABUSED THE TRUST OF ONE OF MY OWN.]

[YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN THE ACCORDS. I SHALL REMIND YOU.]

You reach Sunstorm. He swings his clawed pede down as if to step on you. Your hands grab onto his pede, and with inhuman strength, hold it up. Only now, at the very end, does he look afraid.

[THEY ARE NOT YOUR ACOLYTES. THEY ARE MINE.]

The world goes purple, and then white, and then dark.

---

Author's Note: Fuck around and find out. One last chapter to come, maybe an epilogue.

[earthsparked]

Acolyte Part III

This is part three of the third piece of writing for my 400 followers poll! It's, uh, outgrown itself just a smidge. Acolyte Part I and Acolyte Part II.

Reader & ??? • Found/adopted family • Ao3 Link

Talons longer than your body close around you and lift you into the air. You scream in surprise, fumbling for something to hold on to as the ground drops away. It's so dark that you can only catch glimpses of what's got hold of you. At least, until the rising action stops and the cage of claws open up to cup you in front of the red optics of a Seeker. And you'd thought Bumblebee was big.

At last, I have found you. The one who was ordained to help me.

His voice is like trumpets, bold and triumphant. Rich, golden tones that try to seep into the cracks in your heart. You want to let that molten metal heal you from the inside-out, make you forget what you've lost.

You tentatively reach up and grip on to his talons, getting unsteadily to your feet as you look upon him. Your mech. You wonder why he hasn't shown you his spark, but that worry over tradition is momentarily drowned out by the shouting promise of being wanted, being needed. Being found.

You have come from the darkness of Unicron into the light of Primus, my acolyte. Do not be afraid.

He raises a claw and brushes it against your head with a possessive snarl of his powerful flight-engines.

My designation is Sunstorm. You are mine now. Your time of wandering is at an end. Together we will burn away the impurities and frailties of your nature. And of this world. That the glory of Primus may rise.

You blank out for a moment, the stress of the day and the utter weirdness of what he's saying, becoming too much for you to try and parse all at once. He's...really religious. Probably a priest or a Temple guard. That's fine, but the way he'd approached you wasn't.

I'm so happy to meet you. But you didn't need to grab me like that, is what you say. You scared me, Sunstorm. If you'd just opened your chest, I would have come to you.

Unicron in the Pit, you could feel the village elder staring at you in horror from the other side of the Umbral Lands. This was not appropriate behavior for a newly-chosen acolyte. But it wasn't appropriate behavior for a newly-chosen guardian, either. One of the younglings might have put up with it, but you were older. You knew your own mind. For all your desperation to not be alone, your instincts said something was wrong here.

Sunstorm crooned, his hypnotic voice promising to wash away all your worries.

I'm afraid I cannot. My spark is uniquely powerful, as befits a signet of Primus' will. I cannot expose you to it yet. It is no poor reflection on you, my acolyte. Merely a facet of your tarnished nature.

Tarnished nature? You frown at him. There's nothing tarnished about me. And I've never heard of sparklight being harmful to a human.

Something occurs to you. Are you an outlier? Everyone's heard tales of those mechs blessed by Primus with some unusual ability. Outlier abilities can make mechs a little odd. It's the easiest explanation for why Sunstorm's giving you the strangest vibes.

He rumbles, even the sound of that radiating with an odd musical tone as he looks down at you.

If that is the easiest way for you to comprehend it, then yes, you may think of it that way. But come, it is time for us to leave this place. There is much for you to learn, and I have much to do, now that you are here.

There's a terrifying whirl of metal as, without warning, he transforms around you. You feel sick and close your eyes, and then your breath is stolen away as his engines kick in. You're ungrounded, thrown into the sky. He's not lacking for power, it seems as if his special spark must generate a lot of it because he rockets through the sky and out of the Lands before you can even pull yourself up into the seat. You can't help but compare it to Bumblebee's. While the yellow speedster had clearly modified his interior to be comfortable for humans, Sunstorm's is more bare-bones than the transport van.

You can't get comfortable, but at least he thinks to slide a harness over your shoulders. It secures with a click. It should make you feel safe. It makes you feel trapped.

Far below in the darkness, the light from his afterburners reflects off a metallic form perched on the cliff's edge, all but invisible to human eyes and mech sensors as it blends in with the rock and metal.

---

You neither mean to nor want to, but you fall asleep on the way. When you wake it's to find yourself in Vos, the city of the Seekers. Your back and hips are aching abominably from the uncomfortable seat, but you'd left your pack on the plains and don't have even the small tablets that help with joint pain. You try and ignore the pain as you take in the vast sights all around you.

Vos is a place spoken of among your people, as if from legend. A place of science, art, its very architecture a triumph of engineering. All of it designed for the comfort and needs of the flight frames that call it home. And you can believe that all the legends are true, seeing it for yourself, because it's like nothing you've ever seen before.

It scrapes the sky, towers so tall that you can't see where they touch the ground. Vast walkways twine between buildings for those who prefer to walk. But for the most part, everything is grand balconies and a few runways for larger, or heavier mechs to take off. The colors are riotous and everything appears made of glass – or some kind of transparent metal, allowing for incredible visibility. You do catch sight of what must be beacons on each building, perhaps helping the fliers navigate more easily.

Because there are flight frames everywhere. Swooping, diving, in singles, duos and trines. Far above you even see what must be a full complement of seven. Perhaps even a combiner team? There is motion everywhere you look, all of it graceful, powerful. It seems impossible that they wouldn't crash into each other, but there aren't even any almost-collisions. Their twitch-reflexes are astounding, their flight instincts a thing as natural to them as your own heartbeat is to you. You wonder what it would be like to fly like that with Sunstorm, though your mech appears all business - no flourishes or unnecessary moves to his flight. But all around you this place thrums with metallic life, so different and yet similar to your own, and something about it soothes your fears.

Sunstorm flies to one of the tallest towers. It's a sign of status, you know. He must either be a very important, powerful mech, or have connections who are. His landing is, to his credit, much more comfortable than his takeoff. The canopy snaps open to let you out, and he urges you down as you painstakingly follow what passes for hand-holds on his fuselage. He hadn't even added a ladder.

You could understand if his outlier ability prevented him from having a carrying chamber installed near his spark for you, but to be a guardian and not even have provided for an acolyte's basic ambulatory needs? Especially when you haven't yet been given a powered flight-suit, and one tumble could kill you? You don't understand what he's thinking.

Your sense of unease is growing, but it's too late now. You're far above the ground, on the other side of the world from Earth, in the land of the children of Primus. There's no going back.

Once your feet hit the platform, you turn your attention to Sunstorm. Here in the light you get your first good look at him, first as a jet, and then as he transforms into his bipedal mode.

He's screamingly yellow. Not the pretty, eye-catching yellow of Bumblebee, who'd looked as friendly and cheerful as he'd behaved. Sunstorm is a golden-yellow that reminds you of cats'-eyes, if for some reason, you hated cats. His color looks like a sunburn feels. Too bright, a few shades off. You don't like it, but aren't rude enough to say so. You don't especially want to be looking at him, but you figure you'll get used to it eventually.

His clawed pedes take a few steps toward you, and you find yourself looking up as he towers over you.

Welcome home, acolyte. Come inside and clean yourself of the dust of the lands in-between. I have arranged for clothing to be provided, and fuel. Your rooms are right next to mine. Never fear. I intend to keep you close. No one may harm you here.

Thank you, Sunstorm, you murmur, and see his red optics flare with pleasure at your response. He doesn't wait around to see what you'll do, instead striding into the enormous archway that leads into what must be his apartments. Most Seekers like to live in close quarters with others, and in this at least, Sunstorm seems to be as expected. But he doesn't bother to introduce you to any partners. No conjunxes, amicas, trinemates. He must have his own living space. Either that, or - you hopefully decide he's trying to give you space, so as not to freak you out too much on your first day with him.

The wind buffets you strongly as you struggle into the apartments. You can't help but gawk at what you find inside. Everything is heavy, rich, expensive. The fabrics are mechano-velvet and cyber-silk. The furnishings appear bare-bones but artistically so, in a way that screams wealth. The rooms are well-appointed and every one of them has enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, letting in light. You stand by one for a long time, just looking out on Vos. It starts to hit you that this is your home now.

You slowly smile. There's so much you want to do. You want to visit the Science Academy, and tour the museums. You want to travel with Sunstorm to where ever he works - probably a Temple, you still suspect - and learn about what he does. And how you can help him. That's why you're here, after all. A balanced exchange of ideas, of cultures. A reflection of the duality of nature itself, the fate of Earth and Cybertron, Unicron and Primus, human and mech forever entwined. And you're a part of that, now.

Sunstorm will learn, will soften to you once you get to know each other. You're not afraid to speak up for your needs, nor to inquire about his. You can and will make this work. You've been given another chance at life. You're not going to throw it away over niggling voices in the back of your head that whisper, something isn't right.

You go and find your quarters and the bathing-rooms. He must have paid someone to install them, because here, Sunstorm's spared no expense. Your rooms have expensive floors, furniture, everything. The tub is sunk into the floor and the size of a swimming pool, with hot-water jets that turn on with a wave of your hand. Fluffy towels are piled in a closet, along with toiletries that, when you check the labels, came from Paris of all places. They smell incredible. You dump a bunch of the bath oil in and soak away all the aches, wash the small cuts and scrapes you'd accumulated in your journey.

As you bathe, you look at the bracelet on your wrist. The little chunk of raw dark energon had been your last light in the dark, and now it's your last thread of connection to your past. Somehow, though, the way Sunstorm had been talking, you think he might freak out if he notices you wearing it. Quite an odd thing for a mech who'd chosen to become a guardian – denying part of your very nature, a part you could not, and did not want to change.

You toy with the bracelet a little, and eventually take it off, wrap it in one of the unused towels, and stuff the whole thing back in the closet. It was time to move on. You'd wanted a new beginning, after all. You owed it to yourself and Sunstorm to make a true effort at one.

It's not until later, when you've curled up in the middle of a bed so big and soft you could get lost in it, that another of those niggling thoughts drifts across your mind. Sunstorm hadn't even asked your name.

-

The next days and weeks passed in a blur. You learned about Sunstorm in bits and starts. You learned how he liked his energon, the sound of his engines when he first came out of recharge. You were granted permission to help clean out his joints and tend to his hard-to-reach places, one of the most basic chores acolytes were expected to perform.

You learned your way around his rooms and yours, too. You even saw a number of his neighbors as they landed and took off from the balconies above, below and beside his. You waved to them, but they only looked at you strangely as if surprised to see you. They never came to visit. No one did, which struck you as strange, given how social Seekers were. Especially since most mechs would be curious about a new acolyte and guardian. Usually there would even be a celebration to show you off to the mech's conjunxes and amicas. But you shouldered that aside in hopes of making this work.

You took the lead in your relationship, which Sunstorm seemed pleased about. You told him you were called Wander. You asked questions. You listened to his strange talk about Primus and good and evil and purity. You tried your best.

Things still weren't quite right.

You reached for his wings with a polishing cloth, and froze when he jerked away. It hurt your feelings. Seekers' wings were delicate, but so was your organic skin. You would never hurt your mech, just as he would never hurt you. That he didn't trust you the way he should have, spark-deep, felt like opening an entirely new wound in your heart.

Another time you walked into the room as he was on a video call with another mech, only for Sunstorm to bristle and snap off the connection, turning to you with a sharp warning he was not to be disturbed when he was speaking with others. You'd frowned and stiffly apologized, turning on your heel and walked out.

One day you ask him if you could please get a communicator so you can reach out to Bumblebee and see if he and his acolyte werearegetting along all right. Sunstorm denies you the simple request, saying that It's better you not pollute yourself with the presence of lesser mechs, or worse, others who cling to the darkness of their natures.

You ask him What the frag does that mean?, becoming angry at the slight.

You get a condescending smile and a promise that you would understand, eventually.

The time is coming soon when I will show you my spark, and everything will change.

When he leaves, not telling you where he's going, you walk out onto the balcony and cry. The cold wind stings your face. Winter is coming. Back home, they'll be preparing for year-end celebrations. There will be arguments with families squabbling over politics at the dinner table, kids watching cartoons and playing with their new toys. But the images and memories you have are well-treaded and faded with time, the faces going dim. You have nothing and no one on Earth thinking of you, missing you. It hurts to know that there's no one on Cybertron who cares for you, either.

You close your eyes, wishing that you could spread wings of your own and fly away. The wind's noise almost covers up the sound of something being dropped onto the balcony, but the clink of metal striking metal makes you jump. The space had been empty just a second ago, but now a small bundle awaits. You sniff and wipe away your tears, and hesitantly walk out to grab it.

It's your backpack. The same one you'd not had a chance to grab when Sunstorm had snatched you from the Umbral Lands. You look all around, but there's no sign of where it had come from. Shivering, you swing it onto your shoulder and go back inside.

---

Author's Note:

Bet nobody guessed THAT'S who was out there waiting for you, huh?

I'm sure everything is fine. :D

:D :D :D

(Sunstorm wiki page oh no)

[earthsparked]

affirmations for writers: i know how to write. i have seen sentences before, and i know how to make one. i can identify up to several words and their meanings. i am not afraid of semicolons.