Love Binds (Wally Darling X Reader) Pt 2

Changing the Story for Once Part 1 of Chapter 1

This is a royalty/isakai au I made a while back. I was inspired by the story called "Action" by Let's try some writing and a story called " Optimus Prime is destined to die" by Chuzillla.

And I decided, huh, you know what, why not? I have also posted this in Ao3 but this one is the revise version, I'm revising the story ever so slowly.

And I really wanna share it here but I was debating of it's a good idea you know.

Anyway,here's the summary; Orion Pax is a university student who ended up in one of his all time favorite novel. He has no idea how he ended up here, chaos ensues.

English is not my first language, so it's a mess.

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Admist the glow of flickering screens and scattered datapads, Orion Pax was but an interesting figure, lost in the labyrinth of his own solitude. He was your typical university student who's faceplate is always buried in datapads after datapads, all day long. The epitome of a university hermit. His family tree resembled a barren wasteland, and his social life? Well, let's just say it made a hermit crab look like a party animal. 

He didn't have anyone aside for himself, he grew up with no sire nor carrier and he was just alone in life. He took odd jobs here and there to help him live and see another cycle. With no sire nor carrier to guide him, he wandered the corridors of life all by himself.

Despite such depressing situation, he always find solace on the novels he has accumulated throughout the years— one of which was his all time favorite, it was a story lace with tragedy of a fallen ruler who governed his kingdom with an iron fist, who used to carry the same name as he currently bore— a cruel irony he often found comfort in. He loved the story despite it's tragic and bittersweet end. It was the very first novel he had brought when his first paycheck arrived after grueling hours of being in one of his very odd jobs —the kind that left you questioning your life choices. 

Extra credits is extra credits, he cant say no to that. 

The novel was called “For Once”  and it was a very underrated masterpiece. One which Orion would talk about whenever he gets the chance, which he normally doesn’t so he opted to simply reread the darn thing over and over again to a point where he semi-memorize the entire plot. He had been reading it before he went into recharge, to try and distract him from the thesis paper he needed to write. The story was dark to say the least, but Orion was fascinated and again, it was the very first novel he had brought with his first paycheck.

He had joke to himself, about how his namesake was a terrifying mech, even slightly wished to have his confidence to avoid that glitched-arf mech that keeps tripping him down the mess hall. But then again, Orion Pax has a lot of problems that are far more important than that, not only he has a very barren social life but his student debt was astronomical.

He had already calculated it— at the rate he is going, his great-great-grandchildren might still be paying off his tuition fee— Primus, he really fragging hates the Iacon Academy, it’s a good academy, don’t get him wrong but damn it— it’s filled with assholes.  Another problem he has is his alarm clock being broken, and nothing else screamed ‘university life’ like missing your 8:30 lecture on the west hall because the universe seems to just hate you so much. 

But fate, seem to have a twisted sense of humor.  

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Orion Pax awoke, blinking groggily, he rubbed his optics, half-expecting to find himself back in his cramped dorm room, tangled in his recharge cables with datapads scattered across the floor, and energon caffeine cans across his table from the nights he spend cramming for one impossible test. But as he looked around, he realized that this was in fact not his dorm—  he was in a lavish chamber, surrounded by opulent furnishings.

This wasn’t his very tiny space filled with his own mess— no, this place was…..way to fragging shinny. The walls were polished and they glistened under the lunars light.  

“This isn’t my dorm…..” Orion grumbled, rubbing his optics while yawning. He’s hoping that this is just another study-induced nightmare that he seems to get once every cycle. He sighs and sketches the mingling ache in his frame— he stands up and walked to the mirror, expecting to see his humble blue-and-red-slightly slender armored frame. What he saw was far from humble. He’s colors are still there, albeit less brighter than usual, he was decked out in a massive, bulky armor, which seems to have been polished.

His chestplate alone looked like it could stop a whole ass armada—Primus, it probably had . And his servos? They look like they could crash a datapad in one squeeze! (Not that he hasn’t done it before, accidentally…while studying..but still!).

This is not his body. “Primus…..By Primus fragging servo that slapped Unicron, what am I wearing!??” he yelped, backing away from the mirror like it had burned him. And by the matriarchs servos, why does his voice sound like that?! He stared at the reflection, his optics widening as the reflection glared back.

What he was seeing wasn’t Orion Slagging Pax staring back at him.  It was Optimus Slagging Prime…. 

“Oh no….oh no no no no no no! This—This cannot be happening! I’m-I’m dreaming! Oh Primus, please let this be a whole dream!!” His once semi-slender frame is now bulked with power and authority. It screams control and domination compare to his other one—which if you altered it to the side, he could be considered a femme by a very drunken mech!

And he had been considered as a femme once by a drunken mech!

Panic immediately seized him, his mind reeling with disbelief as he backed away, stumbling to the berth he layed. Orion Pax is known to be very calm and can work well being under pressure, he had done it several times!

But at that current moment— he momentarily lost this capability. With a barely functioning processor, he covers his mouth with his servo—

 And screamed.

 A very panic yet muffled scream.  

That thing when you need five business days just to get inside the mech..

(The size differences in this au are getting progressively more insane lmao)

So. How about we give Rodimus something to do eh? How about that something being the whole sapient spaceship? How about that? ‘,:)

ending the year with some blurr swerve doodles to feed my everlasting brainrot (I’m not normal about them)

Father and daughter 💜

Flying lesson🥺🥺💜💙

Really love Soundwave protects his little babies🥺🥺🥺

See more pretty sky ❤️⬇️⬇️

skyfire and Starscream♡♡

Meanwhile, me who thought about you today and when I will finally get love binds 5 XDDDD

Love binds is still currently on the works! I honestly thought that everyone that like it decided to discard it since it was taking a while to be updated and I do think it is kinda confusing? Specially for readers who aren't on the fandoms I am in?

But yeah! sorry if it's taking a while, I can't guarantee a date when it is going to be posted-

Cybertronian Colloquialisms - Primes Edition

So we've all heard "By the AllSpark!" or "What in the Pit?" or "Oh Primus" in our TF media. However, I feel like TF writers are missing out on the goldmine that is colloquialisms invoking the different Primes. So, here is a small collection of such colloquialisms, and please, feel free to add more if you have any of your own you use.

"Primus below!" - Exclamation similar to "God above!", invoking the fact that Primus is the core of Cybertron.

"Vector give me patience" - Often paired with "because if Prima gives me strength, I'm going to need bail money." The go-to for when somebot if getting on your last nerves.

"To Alchemist!" - A popular drinking toast, to thank Alchemist Prime for inventing high grade.

"The Three Below" - Refers to Solus, Onyx, and Micronus, the three Primes who formed the Well of AllSparks

"Maximum Blessings on you" - a stealth insult/curse from some dialects, where "Maximum" and "Maximo's" are nearly indistinguishable. As Liege Maximo was the Prime of Lies and Trickery, it's a fitting way to wish someone ill.

“Solus’s slag pit” - Used for something incredible, awful, and incredibly awful. Often used to refer to the latest high society fashion mess.

"Find peace or take it up with the Fallen." - In other words, calm down or screw off.

“As you say, my Liege” - A condescending remark towards a person who’s attempting to lie, cheat or mislead.

Again, if you have any primal colloquialisms you use for your fics, reblog and share them with the rest of us.

"Awakening the Sleeping Giant" p2

people seemed to like the first post so have a little more :)

might put it on ao3 later or something

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The language barrier is a problem, Ulchtar finally decides once they touch down, and his new friend seems to agree.

He’d hit a snag in trying to describe where to go when he realized the Giant had been asleep for longer than English had existed as a language. Thankfully, gestures seemed to be more-or-less universal, so he was able to get across the idea of where to go eventually. They’re currently nestled in a cave somewhere in the Scandinavian mountains. It’s a remote place, especially after the alien attacks in the area a few years back. But he knows that this isn’t a permanent solution.

They need to learn to communicate before the inability to do so gets them both killed.

Which is why they’re now taking turns scratching out a massive diagram on the cave floor with sticks…Well, a stick and a small tree. They’d been trading words back and forth for a good two hours now. As best as he could tell, the Giant’s language was actually quite simple—consisting mainly of nouns, verbs, descriptors, and modifiers to those two things. It wasn’t particularly elegant, but it was versatile enough.

They’d started with things that were easily drawn-out or mimed: things like “person,” “me,” “you.” There was sort of a pronoun system, and the Giant…seemed to be a “he,” or an equivalent. Then they’d tried to build from there—he’d figured out some of the verbs, and how to phrase things as a question, and from there the two of them had hit it off. Now he was trying to get the guy up to speed, because everything would be a whole lot easier if they knew what was going on.

“So…[me-category-] human.” He points to the crude little figure of a human he’s drawn, and the Giant nods along.

How to explain the war…? “Humans [-planet-creation-positive-] Earth.” He points to the rough map of the world they’ve drawn out, then to the Giant’s rather detailed drawing of a kaiju. “[Planet-creation-negative-] Earth.”

They lean down a little closer to the drawing. “Quintesson,” he says with what sounds like outright distaste. Ulchtar’s a little taken aback by that.

“[Question.] Quintesson [-them. Name?]”

“[Name-positive.] Quintessons [negative-negative-negative.]” They confirm. Okay, triple negatives, so this guy hated the damned things just as much as anyone else. Maybe it wasn’t just Earth under siege…?

“Quintessons [motion-inside] Earth…[creation-negative] humans.” He’s painfully aware of his limited vocabulary, hoping it’s enough to get the point across. The Giant seems to pick up on the intent, tensing up just a little.

He continues. “Humans…[Eyes-positive-you. Humans-creation-negative, desire-negative.] So... [negative-brain-do-positive-you. Creations-do-similar.]” We found you. We didn’t want to die. We studied you. Tried to make things like you.

The Giant whirls towards him at that, picking him up to hold him at eye level. The grip is just tight enough to hurt, just enough to feel like a threat. “[You…complete-negative-me?]”

Ulchtar waves his hands in front of his face frantically, mortified. Oh, he’s really fucked up this time. He didn’t realize the Giant remembered getting taken apart like that. “[M-me-do-negative! Complete-positive-repeat!]” He sputtered. I put you back together!

It wasn’t technically a lie. He hadn’t exactly done it out of the kindness of his heart, but it wasn’t a lie.

The glare softens just a bit, the grip relaxing. He's not in immediate risk of death anymore.

They keep talking for a few hours, until it gets too dark to really see what he's doing anymore.

He hmms, trying to think of the right words…

“Uh…” He points up at the sliver of sky above them. “[Sky. Light-negative. Me-vision-negative.]”

“[…Recharge-you? Eyes-positive-me.]” He was offering to keep watch while Ulchtar slept, he mentally translated.

He nodded, fumbling mentally to figure out how to respond to that. “[…Gratitude-positive.]”

Then, another thought occurred to him. “[You. Name. Question?]”

The Giant paused for a second at that, wings drooping just a little bit. “[…name-knowledge-negative. Memory-negative-negative.]”

…oh.

Ulchtar can’t help but feel a little bad for asking now. He tries to shift the topic a bit, pointing to himself. “[Me. Name.] Ulchtar.”

That gets a tilt of the head. “[You. Name. Sound-similar…Star-sound-positive-positive-pitch-positive?]” In this language, the name and the phrase do sound kind of alike, actually. He laughs at that.  

“Star…scream? [Desire-name. Name-sound-positive-positive-positive.]” He adds three positives for emphasis, because it does sound way more badass than “Ulchtar.”

The ground shakes just slightly, and he realizes the Giant is laughing.

Don't get too attached, he reminds himself. They could betray you any second. He's just as dangerous as these Quintessons if he wants to be.

“Oh, knock it off…” He curls up on a relatively comfy-looking patch of cave moss, bundling himself up in some extra clothes in lieu of anything warmer. The cave’s warmer than outside, but still a bit chilly even with the ambient heat from the Giant’s engines heating it up.

It doesn’t stop him from eventually slipping into sleep.

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The mech with no name shifts his weight just a little, trying to get comfortable in his hiding spot among the mountains. It’s not much—just a little nook in the rocks where it’s tough to spot him—but it’s better than being out in the open, as badly as he wants to stretch out his wings and fly again.

He doesn’t want to put the human—Starscream—Ulchtar—in danger.

Ulchtar’s the only companion he has in this world right now, after all.

So he’s probably going to stick with him for a bit—in no small part because he really doesn’t know where else he’d go. Most of his memory is long since corrupted, throwing him all kinds of errors whenever he tries to think back to before.

He knows, in broad strokes, what he is. He knows he’s a mechanical lifeform. He knows he’s a shapeshifter of some sort. He knows he can fly, and is probably designed to explore space. He knows what the parts inside of him are—what a spark is and that he needs to drink energon to survive. He knows the Quintessons want him dead.

But he doesn’t know who he is. His name. Where he came from. What his own species is called…

Does he have a species?

This whole world was filled with organic life, and nothing else—it was clear that the other machines he’d seen in that laboratory weren’t alive, but rather artificial constructs. They resembled him, but only superficially. He can’t feel their sparks, let alone any sort of EM field—something even the organics of this world have, albeit very faint ones.

Which leaves him with a very frightening question.

Am I alone?

His internal clock is telling him he’s been on this planet for six million years, trapped in stasis.

Surely someone must’ve looked for him, right? One of his kind, maybe? Surely six million years would’ve been long enough for a search party to find him.

If nobody had ever come looking for him, then…then either there was nobody left to send, or he’d mattered so little that nobody had ever bothered to remember him.

He wasn’t sure which hurt more: being alone, or being nobody.

Something wet drips onto his face.

Terrible time for rain, he thinks to himself.

But when he looks up, there’s not a cloud in the sky.

How odd…

He brushes it away, trying not to think about the question hanging over his head.

The night after that is largely uneventful, up until he notices a strange blue-green light on the horizon.

He pokes his head through the entrance. Was dawn supposed to come this early? Was it usually that color?

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When he’s exhausted, Ulchtar is a pretty heavy sleeper.

That said, the fact that the Giant doesn’t wake him up when he moves away is still damned impressive. No, he only wakes up when it starts getting cold again. Still groggy, it takes him a few seconds to realize his vanished from his spot—something that makes him snap awake instantly in a panic.

He looked up towards the surface. Had he been abandoned? Was the Giant going back to—

Oh.

He sees his companion’s winged silhouette just beyond the mouth of the cave, illuminated in blue and green and violet.

He’s staring at something.

Ulchtar creeps closer, and quickly understands why. There’s an aurora snaking across the sky in full force above the mountains, and the Giant watches in wonder.

His wings twitch when Ulchtar draws near, as if sensing him somehow. “Starscream [recharge-positive?]” He asks. It seems like the nickname is sticking.

“[Recharge-positive],” he agrees. It’s another half-truth; he was sleeping fine until he got cold.

The Giant points up at the aurora, looking very confused. “[Occurrence. Name. Question?]”

“Aurora borealis.”

“[Common-positive? Threat-positive? Question?]”

“[Common-negative. Threat-negative.]” Ulchtar assures him.

He seems to relax a bit at that. “[Eye-similar…sky-heat-positive-light-positive.]”

“Yeah, kinda…” He really does not have the vocabulary to explain how the hell an aurora works. "The sky set itself on fire" is as good an explanation as any.

They nod along. “[Vision…positive-positive-positive.]”

That’s a lot of words to say “it’s pretty,” Ulchtar thinks to himself with a little smile, but jolts when his friend’s wings suddenly flatten against his back, an expression of…something like recognition on his face.

“[Name. Me. Memory-negative-now-positive. Sky-heat-positive-light-positive!]” He puts his hands together and looks to Ulchtar almost expectantly, as if he wants him to try translating this name too.

"...Skyfire," he decides after a few seconds.

The look "Skyfire" gives him at that...He's trying his best not to get attached, to do his best impression of a chessmaster moving his pawns around, but by God, if push came to shove he would kill for that smile.

broken sun / shed a light on everyone

Overtime.