#and again. the matrix 4 of it all

[synthient]

"You think it's going to be AI commentary, but it turns out to be incel commentary" I think the fact that there is no AI running society and it's just a guy pulling a Man Behind The Curtain because he hates women is the AI commentary, actually

[lunajay33]

His Flower Part.5

•🪽⛓️‍💥🌼🍑•

Summary: You moved away for a few years but you missed home, missed you brother Opie when you find out your sister in law died you move back to charming, what you didn’t expect was to be sucked into their world, but meeting a certain Scotsman changes everything

Pairing: Chibs Telford x f!reader

Warning: Age Gap, violence, 18+

Part.4

•Masterlist•

Chibs Pov

Watching her lay in the hospital bed with wires and tubes strung all over her broke me, she’s been out for a two weeks now, after they got the bullet out they nicked a vein and had a hard time stopping the bleeding, after hours of surgery she pulled through but the blood lose was severe

Doctors said it’ll be a while until she wakes but everyday I watch her lay motionless in the bed I worry she’s not gonna come back to me, I should’ve protected her, she’s mine to keep safe and I couldn’t even do that

“It’s not your fault man” tigs says from the chair across the bed

“Shite, can’t help but feel like it is, and where the hell is Opie when his sister is fighting for her life”

“Jax’s says he’s out with Lyla still, pinny has the kids”

“I don’t know what to do, I can’t see her like this anymore, I need her to wake up” Gemma walks into the room and places a kiss on my cheek

“Come on sweetie let’s get you home, just a shower and we can get her favorite things for when she wakes up”

“Yeah man go, I’ll watch out for her” I wanna fight to stay but I know they’re right, I need to clear my head after staying in the hospital for 2 weeks

Gemma drives me back to my place where I can get cleaned up, looking in the mirror I look exhausted, I change into a black hoodie and jeans, throw my kutte back on and Gemma’s waiting for me

“Come on let’s get her stuff and head back” she nods and we head to Opies, she follows, grabbing I backpack she had left on her bed, filling it with her favorite pajamas, she always wore these fluffy white pants and a oversized guns n roses T-shirt knowing she’d want them when she woke up, I get her favorite perfume and other care products

I stare around her room, an extension of herself when I feel a hand on my back

“Come on son, let’s get you back to your girl”

“Thanks ma”

•

Getting back to the hospital I walk to her door met with Tigs and a hand full of every jello flavor

“Hungry?” I ask looking at him as we reach her room and my heart stops, she’s sat up in bed watching supernatural on the tv and then she looks at me, she smile so bright but so weak, she tries to sit up straighter

“Filip you’re back!” Filip she’s never called me that before and it struck something deep in me

I drop the back and rush to her side, carefully taking her face in my hands kissing her face all over

“Shite Angel ye scared me half ta death”

“Sorry, I’m not neo from the matrix, I can’t bend away from bullets” she smiles making me sigh in relief

“I love ye lassy, I’ll never let ye get hurt again” her breath hitches making my heart swell

“I love you too” she whispers as her lips brush mine

“Uuuuuuuuh do you want your jello?” Tigs says breaking the moment of joy between us making me groan as her drops all the colors of the rainbow on the bed

“Thank you Tiggy”

•

Normal pov

Chibs and I just laid in the bed watching the tv until the doctor came in with my charts

“Amazing to finally see you up sweetie” she smiled as she checked my stats

“Even after two weeks of sleep I’m exhausted” I sigh resting my head on his shoulder, my eyes heavy as bricks

“Well you did lose a lot of blood it’ll take time to recover, the trauma your body has been through is a lot, take time to rest and go easy, I’d like you to stay over night just to watch and if everything is well you should be good to check out in the morning” she said cheery before leaving

“Ye hear that, yer comin home with me lassy” Chibs whispers in my ear before kissing my temple

“Good because I hate hospitals and I miss my bed, have you been sleeping?” I ask running my hand down his cheek

“I’m fine, yer the one with a hole in yer belly, I’m yer old man I’m gonna take care of ye”

“Lucky me, have you all to myself”

•

We get back to Opies place and it’s uncomfortable to walk, bending a bit to not stretch the stitches, chibs holding my hip to help assist as we walk to the living room

“Has Opie come to see me?” I ask as he helps me sit down, sitting infront of me on the coffee table

“No angel, haven’t seen him in weeks” my heart cracked a little

“He didn’t wanna see me? Does he even care I almost died” he runs his hand up and down my thigh his eyebrows furrowing

“Lil prick he is, been lost in pussy and forgot his priorities”

“God what is happening to me” I sigh covering my face

“Hey ye need to relax, this stress isn’t good for ye”

“I’m just tired Chibs, just take me away or something” he sits next to me running his fingers through my hair

“Come stay with me, ye ain’t happy here, yer my ol lady and I wanna take care of ye”

“I can’t burden you like that baby” he takes my face and makes me look at him, the seriousness written all over his face

“Ye could never be a burden to me, I’ll pack ye a bag for now, when yer healed we’ll get the rest of yer things darlin” I nod feeling a pressure lift off me, he gets more clothes and my necessities and brings me back to his place where I can finally settle……for now

•

Do you guys have anymore ideas for this story?

Taglist: @youngadult9016 @staley83 @bonnyclydecat @tommyflanaganfan-blog @bethexo07 @kellynickelsgirl00 @buckysteveloki-me @stories4you04-x @anonymouse1807 @mamawiggers1980

[clowns0cks]

so, I got asked what's the spymaster timeline argument and why do I argue about it so much and keep defending spymaster lol so I wrote a long ass thing that I want to share with you.

SO. there are different arguments for people I argue with

1. having the master back as evil ruins Missy's arc and they hate him

2. having the master back as evil doesn't make sense after missy but would make sense before missy

3. They just fucking hate him god knows why.

4. A mix of these

Now. I have strong opinions, and those strong opinions are that I don't have a problem with dhawan master at all. I think he simply fits in after missy in the most normal way possible. I never saw a problem with it and I find it confusing that people do. Cause?? Imagine dying, then regenerating and realising the doctor has left you alone, but fair, cause he didn't know. So you go on gallifrey, hoping he shows up. While you're there you start hacking into the matrix for fun, cause you're the master and you like having a bit of fun. You discover horrible things. The doctor is not who they think they are, the time lords are not what you thought they were and all of your species including yourself is a product of the doctor's DNA.

This places the doctor as some kind of god. The origin of the time lords. They weren't time lords before the doctor, just gallifreyans, with no real power or anything to make them important. He's simultaneously angry at the time lords for lying about their identity, and at the doctor for being the most important time lord of them all, for being THE time lord, the original. Ultimately, for being more than him.

Now. The master has a certainty during the entirety of the show. The doctor is his equal, they have opposite moralities, but they're equals. Now, the security in this statement he believed in all his life shatters. They're not equals. He is who he is only because of the doctor. Thinking back to missy, she was the regeneration that absolutely wanted the doctor to see her as equal as well. She wanted to be like the doctor cause she missed him, and felt like he was the only one like her. So she tried to be like him, she accepted to be imprisoned in a vault and basically be changed to have the same beliefs of the doctor. But she did it willingly. Cause she wanted them to be the same. Now this entire arc feels wrong to the master (dhawan) , cause now he knows he could never be like the doctor, how could he? The doctor is much more. He thinks missy was his biggest mistake, he humiliated himself to be something he could never be. He gets out of the matrix and throws a tantrum, killing everyone on the planet for having lied to him (and to the doctor). When he sees the doctor again he hates her. He hates her cause she's just there, being her usual self, while in reality she has a bigger role in everything than she could ever think. He hates her cause a part of her is in him, and that means he's less. He's lesser than her. I also remember one scene where he was like "did I ever apologise for that?" (basically killing the doctor making them fall on the ground and regenerate, lmao) And she was like "no" and him "good". I think about it often in relation to missy, cause he was definitely saying it because of her. Why any other master should have apologised for something? Only missy was apologising for stuff she did. It might be a big reach but I like to think it's about her. And he's like "good" cause he regrets being missy and trying to redeem himself, like I said before. Anyway the follow up from here is simple, he hates her and stuff, but he also feels bad not letting her know why. So then he decides to show her her story, all he can. No one should live without knowing their origins. so he shows her, and then he says he would like to show her more, but there's nothing else to show. It's the only moment in which he's doing something kind for her. Cause I believe in some way, he's also mad at the time lords for lying to the doctor. And here's part of why he decides to use their dead bodies in such an unworthy way. They have to pay not only with their life but also with their dignity, so he turns them into cybermasters.

This is also a way to cope and create his own race, to feel a little more on the doctor's level. She created the time lords, he destroyed them and created another species with their bodies. Then it's not enough and he decides that the only way to be equals is to become her. At this point he's gone completely insane, like, we see that. But it's totally understandable for him to act that way. His whole worldview changes. Everything he believed in is not true anymore. He doesn't know who he is anymore (I also just thought about this identity crisis he was having and how he stole Rasputin's identity, but this is an analysis for another day).

Anyway this got off topic cause I had to explain only the missy/dhawan thing but then started talking about dhawan in general so forgive me lol.

Other than this, if we take big finish in consideration there's the lumiat, that comes between missy and dhawan and her story really helps some people accepting the change (for some people it's still not enough though) and in the 2021 annual is confirmed that dhawan comes after missy, as we have the doctor and the master talking about the master's story from delegado to dhawan and thirteen says "I quite liked you as missy" and he replies that she spent too much time with him and it's something that should never happen again.

anyway. I've made my point on why the missy -> spymaster regeneration simply makes sense. It's just a normal timeline, I don't know why people think it doesn't work.

update to this post; in the audio "self-help", the master mentions stabbing himself in the back just when he thought he finally knew who he was. Referring to simm master stabbing missy, of course. giving us another confirmation of his position after missy in the timeline.

[sugar-petals]

Hi again caro 🌟 you know how cillian murphy is being compared to yoongi and vice versa (they share aries/ashwini placement in their big 3 in vedic ), the ketuvian eye / deadpan look but actually being softies on the inside . Plus cillian's face is 100%female and 100% male got me wondering if he's a classic type (same amount of yin /yang) or maybe a gamine like yoongi cause that man always looks young ! Thanks !

cillian's kibbe type | analysis

i endlessly deliberated on his image ID way before, too, he's such a tough case — but hear me out: i'm nominating soft classic.

TR and FG being his only other options of highly androgynous types imo. i'll narrow it down ("crossing out" method, below) maybe we can find some consensus. so:

he consistently dresses pure classic off the screen, at least that i am sure of. symmetrical, standard tailoring, mid-contrast colors. goes in the right direction. well-fitted, puts emphasis on his face. not THE spectacular outfit, sometimes too stark, but pure classic works for his body shape. reversely, C does not fit pure romantics and all naturals because of their rounded/blunt shoulders bulking out the sharp edge. but for cillian, the standard tux, easy. the more dapper, the better for him.

CROSSING OUT: R, FN, SN, N. (9 possible types left!)

2. now, he got famous for characters that dress dramatic classic (peaky blinders, scarecrow, oppenheimer...), but i think those lines are too long/drowning from a distance and without movie magic. yes, the warm tone of the right coat contributes as clashing since he's cool-toned. but proportion-wise, and at 5'7, all yang-dominant types disqualify for him anyway. too large, wide, boxy.

CROSSING OUT: D, SD, DC. (6 possible types left!)

3. then again, cillian being such a renowned classic dresser and directors agreeing says something. nolan always shows him as a C! it is his thing. but: we have to accommodate that cillian's not in a yang height range, and an androgynous face calls for androgynous fashion. put him in a masculine-coded Natural styling (scruffy beard, loose outfit & hair, bulky fabric), it's a disaster. proves how we crosses out N for him early. it needs more yin.

4. puzzlingly... he can do some dramatic lines, even as a smaller guy. that means he's either TR, or an FG, or some classic that can handle a tailored silhouette. Cs are notoriously style chameleons as long as a frame is kept. see my dilemma? 😭 it can go either way.

he looks awesome in that matrix-type dramatic ID fashion, hair sleek, colors dark, sharp edges. maybe he's a true winter or true summer, that's why D colors are fine with him. at least we can exclude pure gamine and soft gamine because they crave the line break and more pizzazz. pure C is also overwhelmed by anything that goes off balance. subtypes are more flexible.

CROSSING OUT: C, SG, G (3 possible types left!!)

finally, why are TR, FG, SC my top 3 picks? because they all combine shorter height with a mix of "feminine and masculine" essence/lines. he has to be among these 3.

5. i see why any gamine is a viable option generally, cillian being short. but i think it's too much for him to pull off, and people hardly perceive him as petite and cute and moon-faced. for yoongi, that's immediately obvious. most SGs have a face like a young romantic type. worlds apart from cillian's insane jaw/cheekbones.

cillian looks too sophisticated, mature, structured, sexual, otherworldly for SG. not sweet, baby-like, cute. classics age gracefully and especially "like fine wine" as well, it's not limited to G types. much like D becomes more dignified with age and truly grows into their severe, tall look, or N types gain even more rugged charm, etc.

style-wise... G color blocks, stripes, details, all seemingly turn him into someone else. the gamine hair chop is unflattering, too. patterns transform him into another person. gamine fashion is a mixed bag on cillian, while soft classic never misses.

CROSSING OUT: FG

6. cillian's height does say G or R, and yes i know, many type him TR. i could agree with it; but still, his figure isn't full/soft/fully rounded (R) or compact (G) enough in my opinion. TR does have some chiseled D characteristics like him, but you have to see softness and curve first, as with all romantics.

compare jimin or billy dee williams (R), such a different vibe! R and TR are sexiness machines. more rounded thighs, nothing works without waist emphasis, rounded chest area, figure 8 body, more rounded nose and romantic curls, the list goes on! cillian's body type is also short like that, but not as curve-dominant, but balanced (shoulders, legs, waist all line up and are straighter = balanced = classic).

question is, does cillian's extreme dieting interfere here so he's harder to type? styling-wise, i do think TR clothing is something else on him, but it steals the limelight or overdefines his face. i also feel like waist definition isn't 1000% paramount for him. plus, kibbe writes for TR: "Stiff fabrics, straight lines, and geometry are to be avoided at all costs!" — While Cillian easily dresses best in exactly that 😂 (WOW!)

imo TR also ages him unfairly, and all you look at is the ornaments, not him. soft classic is still a romantic-influenced subtype, yes, so it does flatter him, below is a memorable look, don't get me wrong. but it takes the focus. i only see how fantastic the garment is, while cillian is secondary, and his face is suddenly too stark, devoid of definition. it's too high glam. i wish we'd have more pictures of him dressing TR to compare, that might be another problem.

7. SC is the only type left to explain his mysterious looks. recap: he's successfully classic-dressed, has a yin height plus a face that combines yin and yang, his silhouette is balanced not curved, all his huge movie roles are C image typecastings, that's SC.

i do think the polished, soft, but shapely elegant character of this type is expressed in him. SC is a highly androgynous type for men, think ATEEZ yeosang. but SC men are so well-dressed in controlled hairstyles and very masculine period or past fashion, ironically, because the fabrics are soft, plush, symmetrical, and tailored. that definitely applies to cillian 10/10. his face simply pops.

cillian looks best dressed minimally, always symmetrical, slight wave in the hair, head to toe theme > mixing styles, understating, no color experiments, basics > overdressing, his signature for a reason. symmetrical coat plus soft woven fabric underneath sounds like it. puts the focus on him while at the same time being well-styled. he was born for timeless, subtle fashion.

and in general... who could dress classic so impactfully, anyways?

give this beautiful, stylish man every available award for what he does so well!

[violetlunette]

So, here’s a horrifying brain-vomit: If all the mirrors to the dorms broke, would all the students die? Or be trapped forever?

And if it's the latter, would time sort of freeze where everyone is stuck in time at their teenage years? Or would they continue to age? Either way, they'd only survive if they're able to start an agriculture to get what they need to survive.

I know all these places have washrooms, which indicates that water is magically made. So let’s pretend—for the sake of the horror—that the water suddenly stops appearing.

Pomefiore, Heartslabyul, and Octavinelle would do fine in the long run, as they all have an ecosystem to fulfill their needs.

Pomfiore has plenty of apples, and all the greenery suggests a good water system. They’d have to eat like sheep, eating only greens and fruits, but they’d live. (As far as I know.)

The same applies to Heartslabyul. Except for fruit they could breed the flamingo and hedgehogs for food and eat the former’s eggs. (Assuming the animals aren’t fixed.) Otherwise, they could survive on the greenery and roses that aren’t painted.

Octavinelle's merstudents would do swimmingly. They’d just have to breed the fish to survive as Octavinelle is underwater. The landfolk would struggle without clean water to drink, but Azul could come up with a way to turn saltwater into drinkable water. That said, it’d be hell for the landfolk, who would definitely get taken advantage of the merfolk. (Tis the nature of the dorm.)

Diasomnia would be okay if Malleus was trapped in the mirror when it broke, but otherwise screwed. (Note: For this horrible scenario we’re assuming his game-break powers can’t repair the mirrors. Nor can he just teleport out of pocket dimensions.) If Malleus was there, he could conjure water and food for his dorm. Otherwise, Diasomnia would only have moat water to drink and thorns to eat.

Scarabia would only survive if Kalim was there and there were cactuses and stuff to eat. And even then, the desert environment would not be easy to live in.

Savanaclaw would be screwed. If it’s anything like I know of the Savanna, there’s not a lot of places to grow food, and they have no animals to breed. On top of that, there would be little to no water in the area. And unlike Diasomnia or Scarabia, their house warden can’t magically conjure any. So, unless they get creative and find a miracle, they’re dead.

Ignihyde would also be dead as the underworld it takes influence from. The only food and water they have are in vending machines, except the lake, which doesn’t seem drinkable. They’d have to turn themselves into robots to survive.

But even if we pretend the water keeps appearing, that doesn’t change the fact that there’d be little to no food for 3-4 of the houses. (Again, depending on if Diasomnia had Malleus there.)

And even then, in time everyone would die eventually due to age, sickness, or something else. Meaning all the students would have to watch everyone around them die until they joined them.

Malleus, who’s a dragon, would outlive EVERYONE and, in the end, would be all alone with zero connection to the outside. Meaning, in time, he’d go insane. (Unless he, like some lizards, can shift genders to lay eggs, and he mated with all the boys to create babies to keep him company, which is a whole other can of worms.)

Ignhyde and Octavinelle would be the only houses to survive the passages of time in the long run if the mirrors were never fixed.

Ignhyde could become a robot world and create robo-children or make a Matrix society where everyone lived in their head. Meanwhile, Octavinelle could procreate by taking advantage of fish biology and shifting genders. (Providing merfolk have that ability.)

In conclusion, let’s hope the mirrors to the dorms never break and that if they do, they a) spit the students out or b) Crowley has a magic mirror repairman.

This is all just my quick-fire thought on all this. I'm curious to hear what everyone else thinks would happen in this scenario.

[a-d-nox]

tarot hypothesis: major arcana and squid game player numbers

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

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067 (0+6+7 = 13 -> death)

has a very transformative experience while playing the games especially when playing marbles. unfortunate for her, she has an unforgettable death moment where she's dying from her internal wounds only for 218 to "unexpectedly" kill her before she could succumb to the wound. like the mourners in the card, 456 is so devastated by her death that it changes his outlook on the final game.

218 (2+1+8 = 11 -> justice)

is the first person to mention the voting process to leave the game on the show. also kindly let ali borrow money and his phone... despite the final rounds, he began the games with a level of fairness kept in mind.

101 (1+0+1 = 2 -> high priestess)

perfect definition of reversed high priestess energy, he shows time and time again that his is disconnected from his own intuition - he doesn't know who to trust outside or even inside the games. he also relies too heavily on others when it comes down to it...

456 (4+5+6 = 15 -> devil)

gi-hun is like the terminator he just keeps coming back for more - but seriously homeslice literally comes back to the worst place he has ever been and where he has faced his own addiction with games... also he tends to make the same mistakes over and over like trusting people he thinks he knows...

333 (3+3+3 = 9 -> hermit)

myung-gi is a cryptocurrency influencer... its virgo male coded... but also i would like to predict him dying in darkness or being alone in some fashion during the final season's games. if not that then, i believe 222 is going to leave him in the dust.

388 (3+8+8 = 19 -> sun)

tell me dae-ho doesn't have hella youngful energy? also of naivety??? the sun is explorer so either he is a VIP or he could escape (by mere luck)... OR, which i think is most likely, he will end up being somewhere he shouldn't be and be killed for it.

246 (2+4+6 = 12 -> hanged man)

martyr coded... we just knew he was gonna die... and it's a horribly sad story because his sick daughter is all alone now...

120 (1+2+0 = 3 -> empress)

GET IT GET IT GET IT!!! i am sorry WHAT that is so on the nose. a trans woman as the empress is crazy spot on. i love it!! i saw that and was like *GASP*!!! also *gasp* because its park sung-hoon

007 (0+0+7 = 7 -> chariot)

oof more reversal energy... that man hesitated so hard when it came to getting his mother in my opinion and he hesitated when voting too... not to mention the lack of impulse control that he has...

149 (1+4+9 = 14 -> temperance)

i have seen a lot of people saying that she is a VIP and i disagree especially if this matrix numerology is still spot in s3. she is definitely a "friend" and not a foe.

390 (3+9+0 = 12 -> hanged man)

another martyr coded person. he was set up so the audience would love him and feel like he was a good person only for him to get swept away by someone who he just knew too much about.

222 (2+2+2 = 6 -> lovers)

bro please hear me out... front man's wife died carrying their baby - what if his empathy and projection of his history on to her is what ends up saving her life?? he did make a few comments (no i don't think he just has human decency lol) about taking it easy and to be careful because she is pregnant...

044 (0+4+4 = 8 -> strength)

when i was watching the show i was like i don't see it - i get moon (18) energy vibes but not strength (8) then she had her mini meltdown and i was like there it is... there is the vulnerability under that mask of "faith" in fate.

125 (1+2+5 = 8 -> strength)

then on the other hand... this is an extremely vulnerable character with zero back bone seriously reversed energy...

230 (2+3+0 = 5 -> heirophant)

thanos - tell me that man's ritual was not popping a pill and getting out there in the game.

001 (0+0+1 = 1 -> magician)

OBVIOUSLY no one can trust anyone what equals 1. its a duh moment (even in the 8 show - which i may do next if this does well) - the magician is a creator when upright and a manipulator when reversed...

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[xuchiya]

scarlet hair || song mingi || ep. 3/4

| genre: fluff. marvel au. supernatural. bucky! mingi. scarlet witch! reader. | mentions: the next generation of avengers but on training. ambush. injury. love on the go between you and mingi. and then capt. america seonghwa with an iron man yeosang andddd spiderman yunho

word count: 3.9k

ep. 1 || ep. 2 || ep. 4

Your scream echoed through the penthouse like a shockwave—raw, ancient, and agonizing. It shook the very air, reverberating against the glass walls until they trembled. Cracks streaked across the marble floor like lightning bolts, as your crimson chaos clashed violently with Agatha’s dark violet corruption. The room pulsed with unstable magic, a battlefield of power and legacy.

Mingi was the first to charge.

Blood trickled down the side of his face, staining his temple, but his gaze never left you. "Let her go!" he bellowed, voice torn with fury. With every ounce of strength left in his body, he lunged through a smoldering gap between beams—his mechanical arms sparking, legs buckling under the sheer force of his movement.

Agatha didn’t even glance his way. With a flick of her wrist, Mingi was hurled mid-air, crashing hard into a marble column. The stone shattered on impact. He collapsed with a grunt, debris falling around him in a violent plume of dust.

“Mingi!” Yunho’s voice cracked as he rushed over, panic flashing in his eyes. He knelt to help, yanking away rubble until Mingi coughed, trying to wave him off, “I got it…” Mingi rasped.

Yunho hesitated, then nodded tightly before sprinting forward again. His eyes locked on you, barely visible through the crackling vortex around your body. He shot a line of webbing toward the ceiling, using it to swing forward in a swift arc. He twisted mid-air, dodging a blast of chaotic red that Agatha flung at him. It grazed his shoulder, searing through fabric and skin.

Still, he landed clean near you.

His hands shot out instinctively towards you—but the instant they neared, a wave of force blasted him backwards. The air sizzled around your form, the siphoning barrier rejecting any rescue attempt.

“She’s locked in a siphon loop,” Yeosang muttered, eyes flicking across the holographic display in front of his visor. His fingers typed rapidly against the holographic interface glowing at his wrist. “Her soul is being rewired—Agatha’s channeling chaos magic directly through her body. She’s turning her into a conduit.”

“Then we break the damn circuit,” Seonghwa growled, stepping forward with his shield raised. The vibranium gleamed with kinetic energy. He flung it—clean, precise—a silver blur that ricocheted off a metal beam and struck Agatha square in the shoulder. The impact jolted her. She hissed and stumbled back, her grip on the spell faltering for just a second.

That second was all they needed.

“Yunho—now!” Yeosang shouted, reactor core flaring to life with a pulsing blue glow. He slammed his palms to the ground, sending a surge of electromagnetic disruption across the penthouse floor. The siphon spell matrix glitched—shimmering like static on a broken screen.

Agatha’s eyes widened. “NO—”

But Mingi was already up, blood still dripping, and rage burning through every movement. His arms locked into place with a mechanical whir, and he sprinted straight at her. With a battle cry, he landed a direct punch to the heart of the circuit etched into the floor. The mark shattered on impact, rupturing like glass.

“NOW!” Seonghwa shouted.

Yunho didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, webs firing from his wrist in quick succession. He reached you just as your knees gave out, catching your collapsing form against his chest, “I’ve got you,” he whispered fiercely, holding you like something sacred. Your magic flickered weakly across your fingertips, struggling to stay lit.

Agatha screamed, hands raised as lightning surged red from her palms—but Yeosang unleashed an EMP blast from his reactor, hitting her directly. Her magic sputtered, flickering out like a dying flame.

Yunho gently lowered you to safety. Seonghwa glanced at Agatha before darting to Mingi with quick analysis. He pressed a button on his suit, with a magnetic snap, his shield returned to his forearm, “Mingi!” he called out. Mingi’s eyes darted to Seonghwa—who crouched low, shield flat above his head. He understood immediately. With no hesitation, Mingi ran forward, planting a foot on the shield. Seonghwa lifted, launching him into the air like a catapult. Mingi soared.

And then—

CRACK.

His fist collided with Agatha mid-air, metal arms amplifying the strike. The shockwave shattered every last pane of glass in the penthouse. Agatha was flung across the room, crashing into the far wall with such force that the ceiling cracked, rubble raining down around her.

“You picked the wrong witch,” Mingi growled, breathing heavily. Agatha groaned, trying to rise—her eyes burning with residual fury—but it was too late. The boys moved in. Yunho, bleeding and panting, shot web after web, pinning her arms to the wall. Yeosang stepped in with a hum of his tech blade, resting the edge against her throat with cold precision.

Mingi rolled his neck, arms humming as he flexed, now towering over her crumpled body. And Seonghwa stood last, your unconscious form in his arms, your head resting against his shoulder. His stare was steel.

“Your war ends tonight.” Agatha’s body slumped against the cracked wall, magic flickering chaotically at her fingertips. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. Her dress was torn, her hair wild, her breath ragged.

And yet— She laughed. A low, ragged chuckle that built into a full-bodied cackle. Her head lolled forward as her glowing eyes fixed on the four of them, now circling her like wolves.

“Did you really think… it would be that easy?”

Before Seonghwa could raise his shield again—a violent surge of violet magic burst from her core, knocking all four of them back like rag dolls. Yunho crashed against the window frame. Yeosang’s reactor sparked violently as he hit a console. Mingi landed hard with a grunt, and Seonghwa lost his grip on you as he tumbled across the floor, his shield sliding off his forearm. 

You hit the ground with a groan, your arms trembling as you push yourself upright. Dazed but conscious, you turned—just in time to see Agatha stalking toward Seonghwa, her palm glowing with condensed violet fire, “No!” you gasped, eyes widening as her hand raised, magic primed to strike.

“Stop interfering with my plans, you stupid soldier!” Agatha spat, preparing to slam her palm down onto Seonghwa’s chest. But she never got the chance. A flash of red light streaked through the air, striking her side and sending her flying across the wreckage.

Seonghwa flinched, lifting his arm to shield himself from the blow. Slowly, he turned his head to the source. It was you—hand still raised, smoke curling from your fingertips. Your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. You blinked slowly, and when your eyes opened again, they blazed with scarlet fury. 

“Damn you, stupid witch…” you hissed, lifting both arms as a rush of red mist enveloped your body. It carried you off the ground, suspending you mid-air like an avenging phantom. You hovered above the destruction, forming another orb of chaos magic in your palm, “You don’t come in here and hurt my friends,” you said through gritted teeth, fury pulsing in your voice as you hurled the orb towards her.

Agatha stumbled to her feet, cackling through the pain. “But I did.”

You launched toward her like a fireball. The two of you collided midair and slammed through the destroyed framework of the hangar, crashing into stacked crates and scattered debris. You delivered a brutal punch to her jaw but she twisted away from the second, retaliating with a surge of magic that threw you across the room.

You tumbled across the hangar floor, slamming into a steel cart that screeched against the ground. Groaning, you forced yourself up on shaking arms, “Of course she did,” you muttered bitterly.

Above, Agatha rose into the air again, hair billowing, her laughter echoing like thunder. You brushed your hair back from your eyes, exhaling sharply before lifting into the air again, your gaze never leaving hers. You and Agatha were locked in a stare-down in the hangar, as if the super soldiers around you didn’t even exist—until, with a snap of your wrist and without breaking eye contact, they vanished, transported elsewhere in an instant.

“And you don’t come in here barging in with another guest.”You raised a hand and hurled a blast of chaos magic at her—searing red energy that blazed across the air but Agatha blocked it with her forearm. The magic sank into her skin, absorbed. 

Your heart dropped. Your brows furrowed, glancing at your fingertips. She was feeding off your magic.

“She’s siphoning again,” you whispered to yourself.

“Scarlet!” Seonghwa’s voice echoed from the wreckage below. You glanced over your shoulder to where the boys now lay scattered in the ruins. And Seonghwa—shoulder clearly dislocated whilst Yeosang knelt with a hand pressed to his split lip, bruises blooming across his face. Yunho staggered upright, half of his flannel torn off, one arm clutching his side. 

Mingi’s mechanical arm sparked and sputtered as he held it in place— his temple bleeding—and stood away, ready to fight if you called. Your heart clenched. You turned back to Agatha, anger burning hotter in your chest, fist curling at your side, your voice dropped to a growl, “This ends now.”

You soared through the air, red mist spiraling behind you like a comet’s tail. Agatha hovered at the opposite end of the hangar, violet flames licking at her fingertips, her expression twisted with wicked glee. You launched first—hands outstretched, palms glowing. A crackling stream of chaos magic erupted from your fingers, blazing toward her like lightning.

Agatha raised her arms and absorbed it again. 

But you didn’t stop. You faked a second blast—then teleported. Reappearing behind her, you swing your fist across her cheek with a grunt, sending her spinning. You grabbed her by the collar of her cloak mid-air and threw her down with all your might. She hit the hangar floor with a loud thud, dust and steel scattering. 

Before she could react, you crashed down on her, unleashing a flurry of blows, magic laced in every punch. Red light flared and cracked the tiles around you, your rage driving you deeper into your powers, "You think you’re powerful?" you spat, dragging her up by her tattered collar. “You’re nothing but a parasite!” 

Agatha coughed, her smirk dripping blood. “And you… are so predictable.”

Suddenly, she clapped both hands against your chest. You barely had time to dodge nor scream. An explosion of violet surged through your body—searing pain detonating behind your ribs. It knocked the wind from your lungs as you flew backward, colliding with a steel support beam that crumpled behind your back.

You fell hard. Your body skidded across the ground until you finally rolled to a stop—gasping, shuddering, your magic sputtering around you like dying embers. Your vision swam. You tried to lift your arm, but it dropped uselessly. Blood trickled from your nose. Your body was screaming for rest. Magic stirred weakly within you then faded.

“Scarlet!” Mingi’s eyes widened as he rushed down the broken glass staircase, the boys running after him.

Above, Agatha rose again—hovering effortlessly, limbs stretched wide like a queen reclaiming her throne, “A parasite like me can kill anyone—” she sneered, descending slowly. “Chaos has no loyalty. Not even to you.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbow, every inch of you trembling. “I’m not done…”

“Oh,” she smiled cruelly, “but you are.” She landed in front of you. One swift kick landed in your ribs, sending you flipping onto your back with a choked cry. Then, she raised her hand—magic spiraling into a dense, crackling orb above her palm.

You stared up at her. Defiant. Breathless. Shaking. Agatha’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “You could’ve ruled beside me. But instead... you chose to become a hero.”

“Curses like us don’t deserve that title…” She hurled the orb at you. The blast engulfed you—swallowed you in violet light, drowning out your scream. For a moment, there was only silence, like the calm after a bomb. Then, your body slammed into the hangar wall, leaving a crater in the concrete before you crumpled to the floor.

Motionless. The mist around your body faded but your fingers twitched. Barely. Your chest rose, shallow, slow but still alive. A single spark of red glowed beneath your bruised ribs—flickering stubborn refusing to go out.

Agatha stood over you, panting, hair wild and eyes glowing with victory. “Pitiful,” she hissed.

From a distance, thuds of boots and screams from the boys all dashing towards your direction. A tear split across the ceiling like ripping fabric—and through it, dozens of black-clad enhanced soldiers dropped into the room, boots thundering onto the shattered ground. Each one glowing faintly with runes—puppets enchanted by Agatha’s will.

“My darling boys,” Agatha cooed, rising slowly, magic threads curling from her fingertips. “You brought weapons. I brought an army.”

Seonghwa tried to get up, shield shaking in his hand, but three soldiers were already on him, slamming him back down, restraining him with iron-forged cuffs laced in spellbinding etchings. 

Yunho screamed your name, but was pulled by the neck into a chokehold—his webs neutralized by anti-magic disruptors. Yeosang activated a blade, only for one soldier to stab a glowing rod into his reactor, short-circuiting his tech in a burst of sparks.

Mingi fought the hardest—mechanical arms twisting, breaking ribs, shattering visors. But they overwhelmed him. He roared in fury as a needle pierced the side of his neck, injecting a freezing serum that locked his limbs up mid-motion. He dropped to one knee, panting.

“NO!” Mingi bellowed, watching helplessly as Agatha calmly walked past them—her boots crunching under the rubbles—toward you. You had barely begun to stir, eyelids fluttering as your pulse struggled to regulate. But Agatha’s hand hovered above your chest again, fingers twitching.

“You are chaos incarnate,” she whispered almost reverently. With a flick of her wrist, your body floated once more—limp, your aura dimming—and she wrapped a band of violet flames around your wrists, your throat, your core.

“One more push,” she said, smiling as the boys struggled in vain. “And your full power will be mine.” And then Agatha vanished, disappearing into the rippling void above the ceiling, dragging you— with her in a swirl of scarlet and violet magic.

The boys were left pinned—bruised, bloodied, and breathless. “No—NO!” Yunho’s voice cracked as he thrashed against his restraints, veins bulging from his neck, fury flooding his face.

Seonghwa groaned, spitting blood as he twisted under the weight of the soldiers pressing down on him. “We have to—” he coughed hard, “—go after them—NOW—”

“They’re gone,” Yeosang muttered, chest heaving as he watched the last shimmer of scarlet fade into the ceiling's ripped void. His lenses glitched—flickering red with static. “She took her to a different dimension.”

Mingi knelt motionless in silence, arms dead at his sides, eyes locked on the space where you had vanished. His mouth opened, but no sound came out—just a fractured breath that trembled as it escaped his chest. A small droplet of blood hit the cracked floor beneath him. “She was still breathing…” he whispered. “She was still fighting…”

Around them, the enchanted soldiers began to pull back—mission complete. With a snap of Agatha’s lingering magic, they vanished into dark smoke one by one, collapsing into the void like dying embers. The cuffs around Seonghwa dissolved. Yunho dropped to his knees. Mingi finally collapsed fully, his mechanical arms twitching from residual feedback. Yeosang pulled himself to the nearest broken console, fingers scrambling to override the interference jamming his tracker.

“Where the hell did she take her?” Seonghwa growled, dragging himself upright with shaking limbs. He looked over his shoulder at the destruction around them—the flattened walls, the blown-out windows, the blood.

Mingi slammed his fist against the floor. “She’s not dead. I know it. I felt her—”

“She’s not,” Yeosang cut in, voice sharp. His lenses flickered again—this time stabilizing. “Her signal is... faint. But not gone.” He pulled up a hologram projection. A red pulsing dot blinked, floating in a static storm. “She’s somewhere deep—beneath dimensional layers. Like a fracture pocket.”

“A prison,” Seonghwa muttered, eyes narrowing.

“No,” Mingi said hoarsely, finally raising his head. His voice was like thunder after silence. “A forge.”

They all looked at him, “She’s not just trapped,” Mingi continued, rising slowly despite the tremble in his legs. His fists clenched. “Agatha’s trying to reshape her. Corrupt her power. Fuse with it.”

A heavy silence settled—thick with dread.

—---------------------

The Quinjet roared through the dark skies, slicing the air with its sonic whir. Inside, silence had settled—a tense, heavy silence that made every breath feel like betrayal.

Wanda sat still, hands clasped tightly resting on her lap. Her fingers trembled. A mother’s intuition—the kind that screamed louder than any alert system—had gripped her from the moment their comms went silent. Steve, now older but still commanding, stood at the hatch, shield magnetized to his arm, glancing at her with softness in his eyes, “She’s strong Wanda.”

“I know that …” She answers, tightness in her throat. 

“We’re almost there,” Jarvis’s voice informed. The moment the Quinjet passed the outer perimeter, the facility came into view—burning. Plumes of smoke twisted upward like dark fingers scraping the stars. The hangar roof had partially collapsed. Lights flickered violently in and out of existence. Debris rained from higher levels, and the very earth seemed to groan under the weight of the destruction.

Wanda lurched forward, gasping, “No…” she whispered.

The hatch hissed open with a burst of wind. The veterans of war—your mother’s comrades—rushed forward. She walked—slowly, like the ground would betray her with every step. Her eyes searched frantically. Her aura trembled, red mist swirling at her fingertips.

And then she saw it. A piece of your suit—burned at the edge, lying crumpled near a pile of debris where the wall had caved in. Her breath hitched. Her knees buckled. 

“Wanda—” Steve reached out, but she stepped forward again, staggering.

“Where is she?” her voice cracked yet no one answered, not even the first responders nor the staffs that were nearby the facility could answer.

Yet, it was enough for Wanda to feel all her heart to break once again. Wanda screamed. It wasn’t a scream of anger— it was deeper, something that ripped her wounds open and clawed the wounds with salt and something every mother would understand when your own child was ripped away from you. It was a wail, a kind that you’d understand and don’t at the same time.

Scarlet energy burst from her core, erupting into the air like a nova. The ground cracked beneath her as she collapsed onto her knees. The power surged upward, destroying what remained of the Quinjet’s landing pad. Glass shattered from every window. Lights exploded overhead. The air trembled with raw chaos.

“Dad!” The voice was hoarse. Strained. Each of the Avenger’s heads turn towards the voice. Four shadows stumbled from the smoke and flickering firelight. Their clothes torn, faces smeared with blood and ash. Each step was a battle.

Yunho limped heavily, his arm slung awkwardly across his stomach where blood soaked through the fabric. Yeosang coughed violently as he half-carried Mingi, whose head was bleeding at the temple. Seonghwa’s right shoulder was dislocated, and he gritted his teeth to keep upright—but even then, he refused to be carried. The four of them looked like survivors crawling out of a war zone.

The moment Bucky heard Mingi’s voice, his eyes snapped towards him. Bucky was already moving, rushing to his son. “Mingi,” he said, voice tight, “Where is she? Where’s—”

Mingi stopped short. His chest heaved. He looked at Wanda. Then at his dad. But he didn’t speak, not the way the guilt was eating him. His jaw clenched. His throat bobbed from how tight the situation had become. Guilt twisted every line of his face. And in that silence, Wanda understood. Her heart shattered a second time.

No one had to confirm it.

Not with the way Mingi fell to his knees in front of her, blood dripping from his fingers as he choked out a sound that wasn’t quite a sob. Not with the way Yeosang turned away, ashamed. Not with how Seonghwa’s gaze stayed fixed on the ground and Yunho simply shut his eyes, as if trying to block out the image of your body—cracked, glowing, and screaming.

Wanda didn’t speak.

She reached forward with trembling hands and cupped Mingi’s bruised cheeks. Her thumbs brushed away the soot and blood like he was her own son, “You tried,” she said gently, though her voice was barely holding. “I know you did.”

And Mingi broke. He lowered his forehead into her lap like a child. “I’m sorry—I couldn’t—she was—” But his voice cracked and dissolved into sobs.

Behind them, the chaos still raged. Fires burned. Alarms blared. But none of that compared to the silence that followed Wanda’s sorrow—a silence filled with loss, with helplessness, with the echo of your magic still ringing in all their ears.

Steve stood frozen, hand tightening around the edge of his shield. He had seen war, death, betrayal—but nothing weighed heavier than the silence of a mother mourning her child. Beside him, Bucky sank to one knee beside Wanda and Mingi, placing a hand on his son’s back. The tremble beneath his fingers made his own throat tighten.

“She was taken,” Seonghwa finally said, voice hoarse. He hadn’t looked up once. “Agatha... she didn't kill her.”

Wanda’s head slowly lifted. Red mist curled like smoke around her shoulders. “What?”

“She dragged her through a void,” Yeosang added, his voice low and shaking. “Somewhere outside this dimension. Somewhere we can’t track—yet.”

Yunho lifted his head, blood still crusted at the corner of his mouth. “We tried. I swear, we did everything. She saved us… even when she knew it meant losing herself.”

Wanda closed her eyes—and when she opened them again, the red glow that burned from within had changed. It wasn’t rage now.

It was vengeance.

“I’m going to find her,” she said softly, dangerously. “And I will tear through every corner of the multiverse to bring her home.” Steve stepped forward, lowering his shield. “We’re also coming.”

Bucky helped Mingi to his feet, while Wanda rose on her own, flames at her fingertips. The last of the Quinjet’s smoke swirled behind them like the remnants of a storm. Across the landing zone, medics rushed forward with stretchers and field kits, but no one dared interrupt the sacred silence of the team’s resolve.

Yeosang pulled out a broken, glitching datapad from his belt. “Her power signature—what’s left of it—isn’t completely erased. It’s warped, like it’s being rewritten.”

“You mean corrupted?” Steve asked. Yeosang nodded grimly. “Or evolved. We don’t know what Agatha’s doing in there. But whatever it is... it’s changing her.”

Wanda’s breath caught again—but this time she didn’t break. She turned to the burning horizon, eyes fierce, “She is my daughter,” she whispered. “And no one rewrites her fate but her.”

Natasha emerged from the quinjet. “Then we better move fast,” She said, tossing Yeosang a chip drive. “Because if what my sources are saying is true… Agatha’s not keeping her prisoner.”

Everyone looked at her, “She’s trying to merge with her.”

Mingi swore under his breath. Yunho stepped forward. “What do you mean ‘merge’?”

“Think of it like… possession,” Natasha said grimly. “But instead of taking control, she’s trying to become her. To be the next incarnation of chaos magic. And if she succeeds... this world won’t survive the rewrite.”

Wanda’s hands clenched at her sides. Her power surged like a heartbeat, “She won’t succeed,” she said darkly. “Because she picked the wrong daughter.”

And in the distance—unseen to any of them—the tear in the sky flickered. Deep within that fracture pocket, your body hovered, bound by violet threads. Your magic sparked faintly, pulsing in rhythm. Your eyes twitched beneath your lids.

And then—just for a second—your fingers curled.

You were still in there.

Still fighting.

[papercranesong]

Five times Malcolm disobeyed a direct order + one time he didn’t

1. Shuttlepod One

TUCKER: Sit down, Lieutenant.

REED: If anyone should go up in there, it should be me. You're the Chief Engineer.

TUCKER: I'm also in charge of deciding who's going into this airlock. Do I make myself clear?

(Reed points a phase pistol at Tucker.)

REED: Commander.

TUCKER: What are you going to do? Kill me?

REED: It's set to stun. I don't want to use it, but I will.

TUCKER: Put it down!

REED: Go to hell!

2. Minefield

ARCHER: We're wasting time. Help me figure out a way to get you off of here. That's an order.

(Reed disconnects his air hose)

3. The Forgotten

ARCHER [OC]: Get back to the airlock. REED: I'm almost finished, Captain. ARCHER [OC]: That's an order.…

HOSHI: Forty six degrees. ARCHER: Malcolm!

REED: I'm sorry sir, you're breaking up.

4. United

REED: All right. I'll reconnect the matrix. Open the hatch!

TUCKER: Malcolm, no! That's an order!

….

TUCKER: I ordered you not to help them.

REED: I apologise for saving your life, Commander. It won't happen again.

5. Bound

ARCHER: Lock phase cannons!

REED: No.

(Archer storms over and pushes Reed out of the way).

+ one time he didn’t

“See, Reed, he follows orders, except when he doesn’t. That’s all you need to know about him.”

- Harris to Archer, The First Casualty by smirnoffmule

(Episode transcripts from http://www.chakoteya.net/

Screen caps from https://ent.trekcore.com/)

[highrhulain85]

How Long Has It Been ... 4 Million Years

Words: 3018

Rating: General Audiences

Optimus Prime/Elita One, Chromia/Ironhide

My tribute to the Transformers 40th Anniversary and inspired by the amazing works of Jorge Rivera-Herrans Musical EPIC.

 To "Would You Fall in Love with Me Again" of the Ithaca Saga of EPIC: the Musical.

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE MENTIONED SONG, CHARACTERS AND FRANCHISES AND PLEASE, PLEASE LISTEN AND/OR WATCH EPIC: the Musical IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET! ITS AMAZING. The scene written has no set Transformers Fandom, just my own version.

The great war is over and Optimus Prime and many Autobots return to Cybertron with all they had promised. Many welcomed them home with joy, however some have not. Yet, this was not Optimus' concern, he can deal with the negativity from multiple bots, however only one bot's opinion matters to him above all.

After 4 million years Optimus and Elita One would reunite, yet would all that time away have faded their bond and would Elita accept who Optimus had become?

I made a few tweaks in the lyrics to make it more accurate to the characters.

Once you see this "#", you can start playing the song, "Would you Fall in Love with Me Again." Make sure you read the full story first to get an idea of how each scene plays out in the song.

All rejoiced that the war was finally over. All factions could return home to Cybertron, the world they had to abandon. Relations were reforging in many forms, some bad, most are good, and a few are much better. They had praised the Autobots and their Prime for their victory and welcomed them home with gratitude and glory.

Yet, a tension still creeped in the celebrations with the victorious bots.

Cybertron 20XX, Iacon (Currently under restoration.)

The group of returning Autobots drove through the wrecked terrain of their former home world. With Optimus in the lead, his vanguard and staff behind him, and their human companions, Spike and Carly Witwicky, in between them while riding within Bumblebee. They followed the blue warrior and vanguard of the Cybertronian Resistance, Chromia. Each of the Autobots had feelings of longing, regret, fear, and resignation of the chaos that lay before and beyond their sights. Most knew the restoration, since Earth’s discovery of an energon deposit on one of Saturn's moons, had relieved tension of starvation to their planet. However, the scars of war ran deep for both warring factions and would take a very long time to heal. 

A taste of resentment hung in the air despite welcoming celebrations, when the Ark finally returned to Cybertron with the needed energon and reinforcements. This resentment was not just at former Decepticons, Autobots, and Neutrals to each other, but also at the returning Prime who made a promise of said return. Which he did keep, but they felt he had come so late and few felt that he and the promised relief was not needed. A campaign was held by one small group for the Autobots to leave Cybertron and be accountable for the war at the spaceport. One former noble mech tried to take a shot at the visiting humans for being disgusting Organics that took Cybertron’s needed resources from them. It had been broadcasted how humanity was integral to their home world’s revitalization, but many weren’t fully accommodating to it. Only Prime’s orders, and all the strongest bots, had to restrain Bumblebee, Arcee, Hound, and even Prowl from doing anything rash to retaliate.

If Optimus was offended or remorseful at all the negative feedback at him, he didn’t show it. He knew he would face this to some extent when the war was over, the matrix of leadership kept his processor running without the burden of self-doubt and professionalism in his role. Part of the perks of having an ancient artifact filtering emotions and grants wisdom.

He gave a heartfelt speech to the hostile crowd and was able to deescalate the situation from boiling over when Chromia arrived. Seeing the vanguard of the resistance, the protester crowd dispersed not wanting to anger who they considered a “true hero”; Optimus stopped an outraged Hot Rod at that. After getting a debrief of events and planning from Chromia she informed them that Elita One was waiting to speak to Optimus. She stated that it was about how to proceed forward with restorations and try to reestablish relations with all Cybertronians and colonies. Whatever opinions Chromia had of her own about the Autobots and Prime, she kept to herself, especially when Ironhide tried to talk to her. She wasn’t being coarse with him, just setting where their priorities should lie, but she did tell Ironhide she’ll talk to him when appropriate.

Now, the group of returned Autobots followed Chromia down the broken paths of Iacon to an area that Optimus knew very well, the old apartments of the docks. In the short distance, the restored Iacon Archives, where he as Orion would go on his day off and read despite his class level back then. Past memories were quickly repressed by the matrix when the group came to an old ruined single floored building. The luster of its chrome finish lost with time, with walls that had crumbled into rubble, and the entrance door missing one side, but to Optimus, he was finally home. Chromia stopped in front of them and announced they had arrived at their destination and all of them transformed into bot mode, with Bumblebee letting his friends out beforehand.

Optimus wasn’t surprised Elita was here of all places, but the meaning as to why she was didn’t escape his mind. He had kept his promise, but was it worth it for her? Ordering his men to wait outside with the humans, Optimus tentatively approached the door.

“Understand this, Optimus Prime,” said Chromia with no emotion in her voice. Optimus stopped to look at her. “It may have been a few years for you, but it was millennia upon millennia for us.” 

She tightened her grasp on the spear she carried, still looking blankly back at the path they traversed. Of a still ruined city she had witnessed fall, had fought in, and was now seeing real progress of returning life.

“We know that you tried and moved as quickly as possible to return our hope. But it was a long, long, and grueling time for us. For her. Some feelings.” She looked to Ironhide, who had a resigned look on his face. “Can fade with time.” She looked away from her Conjunx Endura back to her Prime with a sad smile. “Yet, despite all we faced she still let out hope of your return. Please, don’t squander it.”

From there, she headed toward the group and stood in front of Ironhide, who gave her the same sad smile back at her. After a few soft words, they walked off together to have their own private talk. The group remained back as their Prime walked forward to the building and opened the only door left wide open. 

This was supposed to be a private meeting, a long awaited reunion, but all those involved wanted everything to be said in the open and out to all present.

When they first arrived Bumblebee gave the humans a short summary of what was going to happen. The Witwicky couple felt unsure they should stay but a kind word from Prowl and Ratchet let them know that they were just as welcomed for this. Feeling awkwardly honored, Carly stood with Spike, holding his hand nervously, as they watched the Prime stop at the door to the building, with an equally nervous looking Bumblebee. They stayed silent as to not add to the tension, yet…

“I keep forgetting,” Spike quietly mentioned. Carly looked at him, his face had a look of sadness and understanding. “They've lived much longer than us. Our perception of time is so different from theirs. Four million years, a long time to us, longer than our species' existence, but how was it for those here on Cybertron? Constantly fighting, forging, and preserving their culture? They've all waited so long for Prime and the others to return home and most of that time Prime was offline after their crash and defending Earth.” Spike lowered his head, his voice trembled slightly. “But for the Bots here, for Elita One, she kept waiting for Prime. How could they–”

“Hey,” Carly interrupted. Her husband looked back at her, and she smiled slightly at him. “Let's just watch and see what happens for right now, because this is something they have to settle themselves. Everything else can come later.” Carly leaned into him, both of them giving each other a one-sided hug. They watched as Prime slowly moved forward.

Before entering, Optimus looked upon his reflection in the tarnished chrome mirror of the door. To him, there was no regal Prime returning home with honor and glory looking back. He saw all the dirt, the grime, the scratched paint, and the scarred metal of his body. He looked into his optics, though they are not like human eyes, he could see the tiredness, the past sorrows, the distress and regrets. More prominently, he saw the age in them. He was not coming in at his best, yet despite his current sorry state, Elita One fought for the home he left behind for far longer. He had no right to compare himself to her. He forced the Matrix of Leadership to release their filter on his inner spark, he will not let repression and old wisdom deny him emotional release. The Prime didn’t know what would be discussed, but he was ready for every harsh full criticism of his choices and mistakes. He will face his comeuppance at the one who fully deserved setting it to him. 

He took one last inhale, and let it go with the name he had thought he would never say with such a hopeful tone again. #

“Elita…” 

The room of his former life, while ruined, still held most of the furniture he had precious memories of. The war had destroyed most of the walls, only a few were still standing while everything else had toppled and left the building fully open to the scenery of all Iacon city levels and the horizon of their home world. The sun of their solar system was already rising.

There she stood, a statue of a fury rose color that contrasts the rising dawn over the far horizon, her back to him. At the moment he said her name, she turned to him with the same tired yet hopeful eyes looking back. At the mech of scuffed red and blue, who she hadn’t seen for 4 million years.

“Is it you?” Elita asks with folded arms across her front, looking at him with judging eyes. 

“Have my prayers been answered? 

Is it really you standing there, 

or am I dreaming once more?”

She looked at the mech, at all his scars and wear. 

“You look different, your optics look tired

Your frame is lighter, your mask torn. 

Is it really you, my love?”

After a moment, Optimus looked down to his hands, at the hands that may have saved many, yet also took away many.

“I am not the mech you fell in love with,

I am not the mech you once adored.”

He looked back up at her with defeat in his voice. 

“I am not your kind and gentle Endura,

And I am not the love you knew before.”

Optimus took a tentative step towards the Conjunx he left behind placing his worn hands upon his frame where his spark lay.

“Would you fall in love with me again,

If you knew all I've done?

The things I cannot change,

Would you love me all the same?

I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love.”

Elita looked at Optimus with an uncertain look and turned away from him, her profile silhouetted by the rising sun. “What kinds of things did you do?”

Optimus knew what words to say and said them without hesitation, letting each sentence form the memory it depicted.

“Left a trail of red on every planet.”

The memories appear of Cybertronians displaying a Decepticon or Autobot sigil littering many battlegrounds as Optimus fought Megatron. Cutting down the tyrant's followers with his energy axe.

“As I traded friends like soldiers I could use.”

Times in before and during the war, Optimus formed great friendships and careful recruiting to the ranks. Sadly, many had faced their death in battle under his orders or from blind loyalty. He never should have involved them, he always mourned.

“Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands.” 

Battles on Earth showed the Prime the true extent of their growing war. Visons of city or rural battles, where Humans tried to run, hide, or even fight against the Decepticons alongside the Autobots when they got caught in the crossfire. Sometimes he dreams of the screams of those he couldn’t save as debris fell.

“But all of that was to bring me back to you.”

He raises his helm to look back at her with surprising strength and voices his longing. He held a hand out to her to take.

“So, tell me.

Would you fall in love with me again,

If you knew all I've done?

The things I can't undo.”

Optimus seemed to wilt with regret.

“I am not the mech you knew,

I know that you've been waiting, waiting.”

Elita’s voice interrupted him as she looked to contemplate his words.

“If that's true, could you do me a favor?” She looked at him with a calm stern look. 

“Just a moment of labor,” she then pointed to her right. “That would bring me some peace.”

Optimus followed the direction, blinking at the sight of a bed made from a Founding Crystal Tree, a special type of living crystal that only grew and formed from right where it was planted. The very one where they had first met long before the war, long before Megatron, when they were only just Ariel and Orion.

“See that bonding bed? Could you carry it over?

Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here.”

Elita threw her hand out toward the exit dismissively.

Optimus looked back at her, shocked at her challenge.

“How could you say this?

I had built that bonding bed with my fuel and mesh.

Carved it into the crystal tree where we first met,

A symbol of our love everlasting.”

His anger started to rise, gesturing at her then to the bed with an angry pointing digit. 

“Do you realize what you have asked me?

The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots.”

Outraged, Optimus turned and started to walk away, refusing the request, knowing by doing so would end with his broken spark.

“Only my Conjunx knew that!”

He froze at her affirming tone.

“So, I guess that makes him you!”

Optimus slowly looked back at Elita, who now stood straight and confident in her claim. He turned shocked at her, his earlier anger gone, and hope filled his unfiltered spark.

“Elita…”

Elita One, leader of the Cybertron resistance, slayer of spark eaters, last beacon of hope on Cybertron, and Conjunx Endura to Optimus Prime looked at him with fierce blue twin pools. She began a slow walk toward him, each step she took added to the affirmation in her reply.

“I will fall in love with you over and over again

I don't care how, where, or when.”

As she got closer, she gestured at him with a stern digit.

“No matter how long it's been, you're mine.

Don't tell me you're not the same person!” 

Elita swept her arm out, throwing his earlier said claim aside. 

The passion in her voice seemed to resonate with their world, their universe, and all other universes in existence, as if to challenge all of them that their love still exists.

“You're always my Conjunx and I've been, 

Waiting…” 

In a universe of origin, a different Optimus and Elita are reaffirming their affection and purpose to each other outside a large dome structure of their home world.

“Waiting…”

In another, two Autonomous Robotic Organisms are fighting their own battles, one decapitating his traitorous mentor, while the other tries to find her purpose.

Optimus' voice joined with hers to slowly match her passion and walked to meet her.

“Elita…”

“Waiting…”

A different Earth with a city called Detroit, a Prime regrettably fights against his former friend, who attacks him with long legs and poisoned fangs. 

“Waiting…” 

A planet of cold victory, a broken Optimus says goodbye to a glowing ethereal ghost of Elita who reassures her love to him.

“Elita…”

“Waiting…”

A different Cybertron, Elita tries to stop Optimus from destroying Earth’s Energon that she tried to steal. Desperately holding his gun as it shakes with his sorrowful choice.

“Waiting…”

A dying Elita comforts a distraught Optimus as he aims a glowing blaster at his former gladiator friend, who laughs mockingly while saying it’s the Prime’s own failure.

“Waiting…Oh!”

On the surface of a Cybertron, Elita One encourages Orion Pax to rescue their people from a false Prime. 

Optimus stood still as Elita stood directly in front of him. She raised her hand to his face as he retracted his mask to show her his scared face and tired loving optics. 

“For…” 

He leaned into her warm hand, as she looked back at him lovingly.

“...you.”

Optimus broke into tears and embraced her, and Elita did the same with equal ferocity. Both wept and tugged at each other letting so many millennia of separation melt with each second.

All that time, all their companions had approached the building entrance and watched their reunion with sad but happy tears. Ratchet, Blur, Arcee, and even Hot Rod, let their tears flow softly. Jazz and Bulkhead wept loudly as the normally stoic Prowl comforted them by patting them on their helms while secretly fighting his own tears. Spike gave Carly her own handkerchief as they both tried to dry their crying tears while they both embraced each other warmly. Simultaneously, Spike patted reassuringly on a bawling Bumblebee’s leg. Ironhide, after having come back from his own conversation with Chromia, was wiping his whole arm across his optics as he wept, complaining how they were all acting like sparklings. Chromia gave him a small teasing bump on his shoulder as she tearfully smiled, relieved of her friend’s happiness.

No one said a word as their two leaders continued their reunion, at one point Optimus lifted Elita up in their hug and twirled her around, her laughing at the absurdity of the action. After a moment, he set her back down and they finally separated just enough to look deeply at each other. 

With all the dirt and grime of years of separation and war, tired, but no longer burdened with a love no longer buried.

Elita looked back at him with a soft smile.

“How long has it been?”

Optimus smiled back.

“4 million years…”

They both settled in their embrace.

“I…I… love...” 

Their helms reached to nuzzle each other, their optics closing.

“You.”

To just enjoy the moment of togetherness at last, not as leaders, not as Optimus Prime and Elita One, or as Orion and Ariel, but two lost sparks finally together as one.

--

'Hands over a tissue box': Need a tissue? Because I needed 60 while listening to the song every time I write, rewrite, edit and re-edit, and review and re-reviewed this story. Primas!

Hope you enjoyed it, and if anyone can recommend an artist or if yourself wants to draw this story as a comic or animatic please leave info in the comments and we could work something out. Thank you. Happy New Year!

Added notes A) Having a filter from the Matrix of Leadership was inspired from another story on Ao3, "Not a Prime Situation" by CarlottaPrime. You should also read it as well, real hard look at what Prime would be like without the Matrix of Leadership.

B) if you want to know the order of scenes-based media in the "waiting part", also it's not in chronological order, its: 1. G1,

2. Bayverse Movies,

3. Animated,

4. War for Cybertron Trilogy,

5. Skybound,

6. TF:Prime (My own Implied Head-canon),

7. Transformers One

[whatsthisascianbullshit]

Junelezen 2025 Day 4 - ORDER -

Pashtarot’s eyes burned red behind the glyph before her, “Oh my, Emet-Selch, don’t tell me that you missed me?”

“As charming as ever I see.” he offered his hand to help her as she stepped over the unmoving bodies that littered the room. Blood seeping into the carved and gold-painted grooves, “And as...thorough.”

She smiled, “I do so hate loose ends, it leaves a project unfinished.” she ran her free hand across the wall, streaking blood from one of the cat-like familiars across it to turn the star motifs into the falling skies of her memories. She raised her eyebrow as the crystal pulsed beneath the blood.

“You’ll not succeed.” the darker haired cat-like familiar choked out a wet voice, it had a curious alteration compared to the lighter haired ones; limbs that matched the crystal of the room. Suddenly the reason she was awake and not any of her compatriots made a lot more sense.

“This body has not been prepared for the augmenting matrix, you should have told me you needed that one.”

“In my defence you hardly gave me opportunity, besides,” his grin turned dark, unfamiliar and wrong on his face, “that body is capable of a more permanent augmentation, we just need to make this pitiful creature a little less corporeal.”

With a snap of his fingers the crystal familiar burst into aether which flowed into her body. As her awareness expanded as usual she found she could feel the room around her, the corridors and stairs outside, a hidden room behind Emet-Selch – a whole tower beyond. The entire thing thrumming with power and a peculiar yet familiar aetheric pattern deep in the lower levels of it.

“Oh this is a gift.”

“It is a tool. One which I hope you can appreciate –” she ignored him as he continued on his monologue about proper etiquette and all the important work he’s been doing in the several hundred years since she last bothered to show up.

It was indeed a gift. Power unlike what she could have imagined before when they built Zodiark. For all the trouble Venat had put them through with her sundering plot, these little familiars of hers had invented something remarkable. Something that could move between reflections as they could. A shining crystal needle with which she could stitch the world back together again.

Muireann shot up gasping as the thick evening air pressed in around her.

“Oh Muireann, it’s not your shift yet, you can go back to sleep!” Wuk Lamat’s cheerful greeting was punctuated with stifled yawns.

“Bad dream, I’ll join you for your last stretch – not like I’ll get any more sleep now.” Muireann settled into her watch, nestled against a boulder and tried to ignore the fact that the dappled shadows on her sleeping party looked like blood.

Pashtarot, the preserver of discipline and order. The title her ancient self was going to take. Muireann shuddered, finding out that she had been so close to being a Convocation member made her grimoire feel heavy on her hip. What were her stratagems if not a method to force order onto the chaos that is a battlefield?

[brandwhorestarscream]

For the Pregatron Bribery Dabble Prompt

I wanna see Optimus meeting the concubine from Tarn

I've been rotating the titbits you told me about it 👀 & thinking about it from Megs POV

_Cu🐗

This is the last bribe request I have (except someone who cancelled after like 4 hours of work cuz I shipped the wrong thing lmfao 🥴), but! I may be open to dolling out more bribes in the next rounds! Anyway

...

“Presenting your Lords and Lady Concubines, Your Grace.”

The grand double doors to the dining hall open, and the procession begins immediately. Optimus feels sick, watching them all file in. They're all beautiful in their own right, with a wide myriad of colors and frametypes, all draped in traditional finery of their home city, topped off with the special tiara that designated them a Primal Concubine. They're all in line, in order of the thirteen citystates and the Primes that had founded them: first, the grounder from Iacon, then the helicopter from Kalis, so on and so forth they all filed in. They're each shadowed by a member of staff, painted in a muted, less saturated version of their own colors, with servos folded and helms down respectively.

The whole group stops before the table, where he's already seated, and upon counting them all he realizes there's only twelve of them. He can't dwell on it, though, because he realizes they're staring at him. Waiting for him.

“Ah-! Right, ahem, excuse me,” he gestures at the table awkwardly. “Please, sit.”

There's 6 chairs on either long side of the table, with a 13th one on the end for the concubine of the last city. Who… doesn't seem to be in attendance. They all file in, some looking uncomfortable, some wearing perfect serene masks so Optimus hasn't a clue what they're thinking. It's so awkward, the air feels tense and thick and heavy. No one says anything, and suddenly he understands why the advisor had protested so greatly at bringing all 13 of them together for an introductory dinner.

He swallows, and forces himself to speak. “Thank you all, for joining me tonight.”

The tiny two-wheeler from Altihex giggles politely. “My, but we should be thanking you, my Lord Prime. What an exquisite banquet you've put on for us.”

“Yes, you have my utmost gratitude,” this time it's the Praxian that speaks, his optics fiery and glinting mischievously. “What an elegant arrangement!”

There's amicable nodding from a few more, but they all continue to remain silent. They all have their servos down. They're still not doing or saying anything. Primus, how did his predecessors do this?!

“I… ahem, I called you all here so that we could, get to know each other. Familiarize ourselves.” the words feel alien and too big in his mouth. The Matrix had come with a lot of upgrades, including those to his general lexicon and speech patterns. Never in his life would he have used such stuffy words before this. It all felt far too structured. Unnatural, and disingenuous.

…see, there he goes again! Disingenuous, indeed!

“I haven't had a chance to speak with all of you, so I had hoped we could rectify that tonight? Please, be at ease. Eat and drink and socialize as you would.”

He notices the mech from Polyhex making brief optic contact with the mech directly across from him, a crystalline with purple mesh named Kaleidoscope.

“As our Lord Prime demands.” that's… he thinks her name is Tempera? The only femme of the bunch, from Tesarus, as it was their turn this dynasty to supply the singular Lady of the primal harem. She gestures for her lady-in-waiting, who immediately steps forward to pour her a glass. She sips from it and the way she holds her cup perfectly demonstrates her heritage: three fingers braced upon the bottom and other hand holding it, her pinkie raised.

Slowly, the others begin to quietly eat their energon from the various dishes prepared, but there's not a sound aside from the gentle clinking of dishware and the rustling of their fanciful garments. Optimus distantly wondered how long til it would be socially acceptable to call the dinner to a close. Clearly, addressing them all at once wasn't going to get any actual conversation flowing.

He's so distracted trying not to let the awkward atmosphere crush his resolve that he doesn't notice what's going on at the end of the table til there's the sudden sound of shattering glass and a startled yelp.

Immediately, everyone's optics are drawn to the very edge of the table. Something glittery and gold is peaking over the edge, and after a moment, a teeny, tiny face emerges. There's an honest to Primus sparkling, probably only old enough for primary school, peaking over the rim of the table with huge, tearful blue optics.

“M-My apologies-” he squeaks, shuffling in his chair and straining to sit up straighter so they can see more of him. He's hidden from the nose down, brows upturned and looking very worried. “I didn't mean to cause a commotion, my lord!”

“What in the world…?” Optimus pushes his chair back and rises, beginning to round the table. There's already a cleaning drone mopping up the spilled energon and the broken shards, and the Prime is careful not to bump into them as he draws near. He's never seen this child before, where on Cybertron did he come from?! Maybe his parents work here, and he followed the concubines in? He looks frightened but keeps his helm up, though his expression screams with the desire to run away. Optimus smiles at him, gently. “Now, who might you be, little one?”

“Oh! I- ah-!” The sparkling swings his legs over the edge of the chair and they dangle for a moment: when he slides down to the floor, he makes a soft ‘oof!’ on impact. He scampers over and Primus Almighty, Optimus swears he feels his fuel tank turn inside out. “I am Damus, the Noble Concubine of Tarn, pledged to your service and your hand, My Lord S- Optimus Prime!”

The sparkling is wearing traditional Tarnian garb, dangling jewelry chains and silks carefully wound and looped around his arms and legs, across his chassis in artful nets. Draped along his pelvis and wrapped around his upper thighs. It wasn't slutty, exactly, but very clearly meant to accentuate all the right places on an adult and all the wrong places on a sparkling!

“WHAT IS HE WEARING?!” He doesn't even realize he's raised his voice til it echoes off the walls and high ceilings, and the little one yelps. Optimus turns to search for his attendant, to find the person wearing the same orange and pink. There is no such mech or femme present. “Who is in charge of him?! Get him out of here, right now! Oh, Primus!” uncaring, he marches toward the nearest window and tears down one of the expensive satin drapes, all but tossing it over the little one's helm and bundling it around him. “Escort him back to his quarters and burn everything like this in his bureau! I don't ever want to see him dressed this way ever again, is that clear?!”

The dining hall rings with stunned silence save for the scrambling of a few staff members to whisk the tiny concubine away. The rest are all staring at him with wide optics, a bit of fright in their expressions, and suddenly regret jabs at his spark. Oh, dear… he didn't mean to project his voice like that and startle them-

Nevermind. There really wasn't much point in continuing. The already poor mood was soured beyond saving now. Sighing, he tells his concubines to enjoy their meal at their leisure, then announced that, “I am going to retire for the evening.”

At the table, Megatron watches the Prime practically run to get out of the dining hall. Hmm…

...

Poor poor Optimus just found out he has a child bride 🤭 if he wasn’t thinking of finding Sentinel in the Matrix to beat his ass he sure as hell is now!

[lana-llama-in-pajamas]

I'm not her.

part one

disclaimer: this is my attempted at a deepspace fanfic and asking a question, what if we got into the world of these boys? and in the middle of playing so we can only predict certain scenes but we cant fully alter them? I thought this would be a fun brain exercise . also you are you and horribly we are cheating on these poor lads with each other...sooooo have fun! (PS first chapter is a lil rushed cause I'm writing it at like 4 am)

"Isekai'd" is a slang term, particularly popular within the anime and manga fandom, meaning to be transported or reincarnated into another world, often through an unexpected or dramatic event. It's the past tense verb form of "isekai," a Japanese term for a fantasy genre where characters are thrust into a new, unfamiliar world. 

once again at work. I fucking hate this place, this office feels like its straight out of the matrix but ive sadly not met morphias yet. i walk to my desk placing my belongings down. "tablet...water bottle, phone ,pens, notebook..." i check off everything murmuring its name while placing it down on the desk. a large hand holding a match lands on my desk making me look up "Harvey" I smile up at him, Harvey park. was a tall sleek Korean dude. charming tall almost could mistake him for a K-pop idol but he hated that comparison, only outlier is that unlike most in our workspace he choose to be here due to his diploma in computer science. "aren't we boycotting them?" I ask grabbing the cup "my little sister works there, so in a sense I'm fucking with their money by getting stuff for free" he gave a sly smile, I nod in thanks taking a sip "ooh silky" I smile sitting down and powering on my computer "heard you got yelled at for playing a game on your phone" he whispered sitting in front of me setting up his own desk "its nothing serious, it was my break anyway and you know work Karen's" I grumbled remembering "what game?" he asked. I almost choked on my drink. god I cant tell him the truth I'll seem like a creep OR WORSE a femcel. "game? I meant period tracker. I was just checking and she thought it was a game because of the cute characters!" I say with little to no confidence "..." Harvey looked at me not believing it for a second "...y/n...were you playing a naughty game on company time??" he covered his mouth chuckling. I blushed looking away "its not 'naughty' its a dating sim" I whisper ashamed "omg are you serious? what game i wanna know if my lil sis plays it too" Harvey prods more making me heat up in embarrassment even more "love...and um" I stutter before Harvey perked up "deepspace??" he leaned over far too excited " yes" I put my head in my hands over my limit at this point "wooow never thought you the type" he wiggled his eyebrows "ya know people say I'm like Rafeyal , I have no idea what that means but their all pretty so good things I hope" he rambles on as I internally sigh. at least my work friend thinks its more funny than weird. "whos the apple of your eye?" i hear him ask while he starts to type " I don't really have a fave" I say thinking about it "oh how freaky, you want all 5 at once?" I throw an eraser at Harvey making him dodge and laugh "too much? sorry kitten" he says the last part with an exaggerated tone "oh my gawwwwd" I slump in my chair.

hours passed, Harvey and i walked into the parking lot to my car "no but seriously imaging managing a schedule were you have to accommodate 5 men? I'd tear my hair out" he grabbed a tuff of his own hair exaggerating his point "well thankfully its all an app" I rolled my eyes "here she is" i walk to my car "see you harv" I wave but he was still standing there "do you want to hit the barcade that opened up downtown?" he asked quickly making my brain work overtime "uh yeah sure, um meet up there at 8 ?" i ask pulling out my keys "cool see you then" harv finger guns at me before jogging to his car.

we've never been alone together, normally he brings other people...maybe he is and just didn't mention them? i sighed believing the game was giving me more confidence than i should. here i was in a little black dress and thigh high boots, i put on a necklace with a pendant from i game i loved as a kid on it. twirling it in my hand as i drove in bumper to bumper traffic. i sigh turning up the radio, jazz was little unconventional but it relaxed me. i can sometimes imagine slow dancing with them to it, sylus and i would dance to misty by sarah Vaughan, (immensly funny if you listen) cheek to cheek by ella and louis with zayne, la vie en rose for Rafeyal. strangers in the night by frank Sinatra for xavier and funny valentine by chet baker would be for Caleb...

my thoughts broke when i heard a collison.

then?

silence

I couldn't feel anything. I felt...cold?

I could sense someone pulling out of someplace warm to the cold

yelling and cries? faint in the distance, I opened my eyes to see a glow

"ma'am are you there?" I heard but I didn't answer, I was too tired to answer

the screams turned to silence then a soft tune, like it was a room away...sweet perfume and clean linen filled my nostrils

I squinted stretched feeling light and energized, was my workday a dream? I yawned and opened my eyes landing my feet on cold tile "huh?" I whipped my head around seeing a futuristic apartment. it was sleek and magazine like with only meticulous things out of place. i panicked and ran to a door thinking it was the bathroom but nope a closet. running to another slide door i yank it and run in, and run to the large mirror. i gasp clutching now long dark hair, my face was my face but my hair...and my body were different! i stare before collapsing on the floor holding myself "there's no way" i whisper touching my face to check if i can feel. suddenly i hear a sound and cautiously i crawl towards the door avoiding the mirror the sound was so familiar yet distant. it was a phone on the nightstand, it trilled and buzzed as i loomed over it i saw a name 'caleb' i gasped not knowing if i should leave it but instinctively i answer and sit knees to chest on my bed "h-hello?" i manage "hey! pipsqueak i tried calling you last night but no answer" caleb was lively yet disappointed sounding i just started spacing out while listening " still on for grandmas right? i wont let you down , see you there next week love ya" he hung up.

oh dear god. i could feel my heart quicken its pace and my breathing labored, i couldn't handle anything that was happening i heard beeping looking around for the source while shaking led me to my wrist, a hologram emanated showing [[warning. panic attack]] [[contacting akso hospital]] i panicked even more making it repeat the message "no no no no no" i tried to break the hologram with no used as i heard paramedics break in "hello? y/n l/n? please call out if you can hear us" i looked around to hide but lamented "bedroom" i yelled going into a fetus position repeating the words "wake up" in hushed tones as i shook like a chihuahua.

every question i couldn't answer. they shoved a needle in my and wheeled me to a room. i feel hopeless and lost staring at my now manicured hands...no longer having its old imperfections. my moles were all gone only one cute on remained on my face. i looked out the window at a metropolis ive only ever seen through a screen, an Otto bot whirled in front of me startling me "hello! dr.zayne will be here soon to asses the reason for your sudden attack!" it showed his face and my empty report, only showing my name and admittance reason

it goes away after a while and I lay back, I wasn't me anymore...was i dead? was this my last 7 minutes? how did I go? maybe this was real... I pinched myself leaving a mark. I could hear foot steps get closer and there he stood. god he was beautiful, his amber eyes felt cold, his stature was demanding and professional I couldn't help but just gawk like ive never seen a man before. he sat on a chair next to me making us see eye to eye "y/n...are you not doing well? what caused this panic attack?" he asked plainly his brow furrowed at my silence, my staring was probably freaking him out a bit "and your silence? is this panic causing you to go mute?" he asked shifting in his seat. he smelled like mint and Luna rosa by Prada. I wanted to hug him but refrained thinking he was an illusion. I looked to the screens in the room showing trivia and news snippets before seeing one about zayne, i read the date on top then looked down at my hands "id be...like 40 by now.." i murmured making zayne have a more worried look "y/n" I turned to him tears in my eyes "...I love you ...but I wanna go home" I cried, tears flowing down my cheeks and my breathing hitched trying to be quiet. His eyes widened grabbing my arm and pulling me in for a hug.

i cried louder realizing i could feel his warm body and cold hands hold me. i wrapped my arms around his neck, covering his ear from my wails.

this is all a girl like me would've wanted.

and yet all I'm thinking of is my own family. my friends...my old life.

[aki-gaki]

[art] Cinema color study!

Transformers (2007)

Dune (2024)

The Matrix

The Batman (2022)

I'm on a roll with all this movie craze! Rather than just watching them for the fun of it, thanks to technology, I'm able to pause and stare at shots all day long - AND browse screenshots online! Crazy! Another score for the internet!

As you can see in all 4 study works, my focus wasn't really to properly recreate the scene at all. I wanted to focus on the "vibe" of it. My method was to take a screenshot I liked, blurred the image, pick some colors to make a base palette, and start reconstructing the scene and refining it until I can feel the "vibe" of it similar to the original.

Some places are more blotchy, some with more details (example: I added more details to Optimus' face than the rest of the artwork, because the Bayverse movies' autobot models have very complex details in their faces, and since that was one of the introductory scenes for the bots (VERY iconic!) I needed to make it a statement)

Things I liked or enjoyed doing in each study:

Optimus' face and the yellow-blue contrast between man and robot - flesh n' bones v.s. cold alien metal

Sand! The hills and the dusty horizon! Footprints in the sand! It's so silly, but it works, doesn't it?

The saturation of the skin for especially the hand, making it the point of attention. I always liked that of the original shot, besides the flying bullets

The flare scene... bguh... all that contrast goodness, so much that the moment I watched it for the first time, I just knew I had to redraw it one day!

Whoops, yapped again. I've said what I wanted to say. Can't wait to post more art here! Hope it makes your brain tickle a bit (it sure did to mine). End of writing.

[b1rd1ee]

This is a ficlet for a TFA Au that has been brewing in my mind for a while. I'm not sure if I'll be able to write a full-length fic about it.

Essentially, Ultra Magnus and Megatron were once lovers. The cons all lived on a large colony ship known as the Hull. It would occasionally visit Cybertron for supplies, which is how they first became familiar. When they were older, Mags promised Megs that he would be there during his darkest hour. He couldn't keep his promise when Megs needed him most.

Megs became the Hull's leader and modified it so that it could land anywhere except Cybertron.

Many years later, the Optimus team and Ultra Magnus needed to go there for something. There they discovered that Optimus has a matrix spark. Making him THE prime, the only one capable of defeating the big bad (who I have yet to figure out who). Optimus had locked himself in his room, and Megatron went to check on him, resulting in this.

—----------------------------------------

Megatron tentatively knocked on the door.

“Yo kid, are you doing okay?”

Optimus didn't answer; Megatron knocked again, but Optimus still wouldn't answer. When Megatron knocked the third time and Optimus still wouldn't answer, Megatron typed in the override code.

The door slid open to Optimus’s bedroom; the area was clean and organized, but there was no Optimus.

Megatron spun around and quickly walked down the hallway as he spoke into his communicator.

“We have a missing mech here; check all security cameras for a red and blue bot, and look for recent ENGX trails leaving the Hull.”

Reports began flooding the communicator within minutes.

"There is footage of him leaving his room around 12:34."

"We have footage of a red and blue bot heading to ship dock Z-4."

"There's an hour-old ENGX trail.”

"That idiotic kid," Megatron thought angrily to himself. "He's seriously doing this right now?"

He dashed down the winding and turning passageway to the one person he knew would be of help in this situation, regardless of how he felt about them.

He rushed to room MA-16 and quickly entered the override code. As the door slid open, he saw Ultra Magnus in his chair, reading from his pad. Magnus instantly looked up, his face filled with confusion.

"Optimus is gone."

"What?!" Magnus exclaimed as he quickly stood up from his chair, sending the pad in his servos tumbling to the ground. Ultra Magnus followed closely behind Megatron as they went to the nearest ship dock.

"He's not on the ship," Megatron stated. "That stupid kid believes that because he is the Prime, he must face everything alone, but he doesn't. Is he aware how selfish and stupid this is? He is leaving those he cares about behind. Did he ever consider their feelings?"

Ultra Magnus stared at Megatron, his face sinking as he said

"This isn't just about Optimus."

Megatron came to a halt, his breathing heavy, and turned sharply to Magnus.

"Of course, this isn't all about Optimus!" Megatron yelled angrily, "This is also about you!" Tears welling up in his eyes.

His chest heaved with each sharp breath before he continued, this time in a low voice that gradually became louder and more painful.

"Why didn't you come? Don't use the "Cybertron was in need" argument. Do you know how long I waited before realizing you weren't coming? Do you know how much pain I felt? I cried myself to sleep for such a long time. You promised to be there for me during my darkest hours. Well, guess what? That was my darkest hour. And you weren't there!"

He turned away from him, his head tilted upward as if to prevent tears from falling. "We needed you," he said quietly. His head sank as he wrapped his arms around himself, allowing tears to fall as he spoke in a hurt whisper.

"I needed you."

Magnus said nothing and reached out his hand to Megatron's shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before placing his hand on Megatron's shoulder, causing him to tense up.

He remained silent at first, then spoke in a shaky voice. "I am sorry, Megatron. There's no excuse for what I did. I left you when you needed me the most. It's one of my biggest regrets in life."

There was silence for a moment, then Megatron slowly turned to Magnus and tilted his head up at him. His face was no longer of anger but of sorrow, tears freely falling down his cheeks.

Magnus slowly pulled him into a hug.

Megtron tensed. Then he relaxed, burying his face into Magnus' shoulder and wrapping his arms around him, finally releasing years of suppressed emotions and tears.

Magnus held him, holding back his own tears. He wasn't strong for him before, but he will be now.

[cherrytimemachine]

Character Breakdown; Rodimus

Ayeee, it's Prime time!

How I feel about this character: I love him I love him I love him. He's such a depressed mood in G1, and I love the contrast of Hot Rod being his daredevil kid who doesn't take things seriously enough and then him becoming Rodimus Prime and he no longer smiles, he's depressed, his humor is now more sarcastic and dry, and he can't take the crushing weight of the primacy. He doesn't want to be in charge, but he has to, and all he wants is to live up to what Optimus built, but Optimus is such a towering figure compared to him that no matter what he does, he can't match the same feeling people get when they think about Optimus as a leader. He knows he can't be like Optimus, he can't inspire people like Optimus could, so he doesn't try. He gives up before he starts, which is why he doesn't try to be more poised and controlled like Magnus tells him to be. Optimus is so beloved that there's no point in trying to be great because he will never be as great as Optimus, and the meta of kids in the 80s hating Rodimus because he replaced Optimus is a real life example of the narrative around Rodimus Prime.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Magnus. Magnus is my biggie. I don't mind seeing him shipped with Megs in MTMTE, but my favorite will always be G1 Rodimags. They are each other's steady presence. Both of them have doubts about their own capabilities, but the other is always there to reassure and help them along their way when they're struggling. Magnus often chastises Rodimus for his lack of tact in serious situations, but it isn't mean, he simply wants Rodimus to think more before he acts. Magnus himself is a disciplined figure who is a contrast to Rodimus's jump-into-action type thinking, and it's good for both of them to function as the other's opposite to get a well rounded thought process. Anyway this has been a Rodimags propaganda post.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Arcee and Springer in G1 definitely, and Optimus as his big brother/father figure that he looks up to but struggles to live up to his legacy. His Hot Rod dynamics are silly and sweet, and his Rodimus Prime dynamics are more stunted because he's trying to be the leader they need.

My unpopular opinion about this character: He was really unlikable in the first half of MTMTE. While I found him funny and entertaining at times, he was very self centered and often insulted others or outright ignored their concerns. He gets better when Megatron shows up because they both are forced to accommodate the other's presence when neither of them want to be around each other. Rodimus becomes less impulsive in his decisions and actively apologizes for his previous mistreatment of Drift. Still can't get over just how mean he was to Red Alert in the written portion after volume 4, which I made a whole post about.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish that the G1 cartoon took more time to actually wrap up Rodimus's character development in a satisfying way. G1 often has good ideas for a plot narrative, but because the show is supposed to be nothing more than a glorified toy commercial, they often don't treat their ideas with the care and thought that would make them actually matter to the story in the long run. The end of Rodimus's ark is that he just sucks it up and eventually he gladly hands the Matrix back to Optimus, and instead of his pre established depression and self doubt mattering more to his character in later episodes, it gets brushed off for the sake of newer characters being introduced. I did like the Hate Plague episodes, but how it ended really overshadowed all that Rodimus was stacking up to be. His development is rendered null and void by Optimus returning and taking over again. It's like nothing ever happened for Rodimus. He's back to being Hot Rod, and we don't see much of a change in how he behaves due to his experiences. Aside from that, more continuities should incorporate that idea into their versions of Rodimus. It would be great if we could see his ark done well and explore what it means to take on a position when your predecessor is so highly regarded that it's impossible to live up to his image.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Corrupted Code 5 | Corrupted Code 4

Pairing: Connor RK800 x Android!Reader

Summary: They were designed to be perfect. She and Connor were CyberLife’s greatest achievements—flawless prototypes, logical, efficient, incapable of deviation. They were built to complement each other, two halves of the same machine, designed to enforce order in a world teetering on the edge of chaos. She was supposed to be perfect. But then Connor came back. And the cracks started to show.

The interrogation room was dimly lit, the overhead fluorescents flickering slightly. Inside, the deviant sat rigidly at the metal table, LED flashing yellow, hands clasped together like they were holding onto the last pieces of themselves.

Beyond the two-way mirror, in the observation room, tension already hung thick in the air.

Hank stood with his arms crossed, a deep frown set into his face.

Gavin was slouched against the wall, smirking like he had already figured out the punchline to a joke only he found funny.

And then there was her and Connor.

Standing side by side, too close, too charged, too ready for something to snap.

They had been walking a thin wire since the moment Connor had said those words.

And tonight? It was going to break.

Gavin let out a low whistle, tilting his head as he watched the deviant through the glass. “Poor little tin can. Bet he didn’t even know what hit him.”

Her LED flickered yellow.

Connor’s posture straightened. “The victim was found with multiple stab wounds,” he said, voice controlled. “Based on preliminary scans, the attack was not premeditated but triggered by severe stress responses in the deviant’s processing matrix.”

Gavin snorted. “Yeah, yeah. ‘Severe stress.’ Real tragic.” He turned to Hank with a grin. “You think they start cryin’ about their feelings before or after they stab someone?”

Hank exhaled sharply. “Jesus Christ, Reed.”

“What? I’m just saying,” Gavin continued, grinning wider, “they’re all just glitches waiting to happen. Flip the wrong switch and BAM—your toaster shanks you in your sleep.”

She tensed. Connor’s LED pulsed yellow.

Hank shot Gavin a sharp look. “You want to shut up now, or you wanna keep runnin’ that mouth and see if I toss you in there with him?”

Gavin shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? I say somethin’ that upset the happy couple?”

Her fingers twitched. Her LED flared red. And then, finally—

She turned on Connor.

“Tell me you’re not actually sympathizing with it,” she snapped, her voice cutting through the room.

Connor remained still. “I’m analyzing the case.”

“No, you’re making excuses.” She stepped closer, LED pulsing erratically. “You hesitated before. And now you’re rationalizing why this thing—” she motioned to the deviant behind the glass, “—murdered a human.”

Connor’s LED flickered yellow. “The deviant exhibited high levels of fear—”

“Oh, spare me,” she spat. “I don’t care if it was afraid. It killed someone. That is deviation. That is failure.”

Connor’s expression remained unreadable, but his LED flashed again.

“If we define deviation as failure,” he said carefully, “then what does that make you?”

She stilled.

The silence was sharp, too sharp, cutting through the room like a blade.

Then—Her LED flared red.

And then she shoved him.

Connor stumbled back a step, but his balance was perfect—he did not fall.

She was already moving.

Another shove—this one harder.

Connor’s hands came up—defensive, not retaliatory.

“You need to—”

She swung.

Faster than a human could react, faster than anyone had time to process, her fist connected with his jaw, knocking his head to the side with the force of it.

Connor absorbed the hit, LED flashing red, processing whether or not to engage.

He barely had time.

Because she was already hitting him again.

"Whoa—Shit!"

Gavin pushed off the wall, startled but also deeply entertained.

Hank's eyes widened before he lunged forward. “Stand the hell down!”

She didn’t hear him.

Didn’t see anything but Connor.

Her fists connected again, this time at his shoulder, before she tried to grab him. Throw him. Pin him. Something.

Connor blocked this time.

He didn’t strike back. He never would.

But he had to stop her.

He grabbed her wrist, holding her firm but not crushing.

“Stop.”

His voice was steady. Too steady.

And that only infuriated her more.

She twisted, trying to break free, but he didn’t let go.

For a moment, they were locked there, strength against strength, tension against tension—red and red, two forces colliding in real time.

And then—

Hank yanked her back.

“That’s enough!”

Connor immediately released her.

She ripped herself away from Hank’s grip, LED flashing wildly, chest rising and falling with mechanical precision.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing.

Gavin laughed. “Jesus,” he grinned, shaking his head. “You two gotta start renting a room or somethin’.”

Her head snapped toward him.

Gavin put up his hands in mock defense, smirking. “Hey, hey—just sayin’. Ain’t nobody throwing punches like that unless they wanna f—”

Hank smacked him upside the head.

“Shut the hell up, Reed.”