They say it is a gift to be chosen
A blessing
A boon granted only to the most worthy.
"Smile, O child, and open your chest to
receive the light of those who came before you;"
Step into their shadows and surrender your spark
so that you may be cleansed in purifying fire,
Light that burns like the core of a star, purging
Washing, changing, stripping paint and personality.
Is it supposed to hurt this much?
Blessed be, Prime of Primus, forged anew
Your old frame warped and twisted into a vessel
Befitting the prophets of your God;
Your processor now full of voices not your own,
Whispers and guiding hands crawling down your neck
And twining 'round your wrists like strings.
You have never taken a life before.
As lifeblood runs down your ax and optics go dark,
Colorful plating fading to gray,
The sacred choir in your chest sings 'Holy, holy, holy'
And you wonder if this is what it truly means
To be loved by the Divine.
"Is it not a gift to return to the AllSpark?"
Your friend, your brother, your lover stands across from you
(not you, not your frame, not your name)
And looks at you as if you are a monster, and as the sacred
Artifact nestled between your sparks whispers at you to
Extinguish his forever, you think maybe you are.
Holy, holy, holy.
You learn to ignore yourself in time. The self is not holy,
Not when filled with the wisdom and light of the Primes.
The others, your followers, your soldiers, your friends(?)
Call you "Prime" with awe in their voices and joy in their fields
As you give and cut of yourself to provide, to comfort, to guide;
you pray for your God to have mercy on them as they kill and die
In your name (not your name, not your frame), for their Prime.
What am I supposed to do
If I want to talk about peace and understanding
But you only understand the language of the sword?
What if I want to make you understand that the path you chose leads to downfall
But you only understand the language of the sword
What if I want to tell you to leave me and my beloved ones in peace
But you only understand the language of the sword
I let the blade do the talking
So my tongue shall become iron and my words the mighty roar of war
Revealing my divine anger's arrow shall strike
All action for the good of all, I see my reflection in your eyes
But my new age has just begun, the sword is soft
In the fire of the furnace, it hungers to be hit
And wants to have a hundred sisters
In the coldest state of their existence
They may dance the maddest in the morass of the red rain
Beloved brother enemy, I sing my sword song for you
The lullaby of obliteration
So I can wake up with a smile
And bliss in my heart
If you'd like some headcanon asks, may I inquire about 😭, 😬, 🖕, 🎭, and 🔪 for Optimus~? <3
hii!! A lot of this might only make sense in the situations that only exist in my mind but ALAS…
😭 A headcanon about the worst thing that happened to them.
Being chosen by the Matrix. It made him who he is now, and he’ll never be sure it was worth it. He guilt-spirals about this on bad days.
🖕 A headcanon relating to anger
He’s very very good at beating back and subduing his own emotions, so the vast majority of the time his distress is completely invisible to those around him. Unless they know him well enough to spot his tells, which very few do. (Megatron can, and knows instantly when something he said managed to get under Optimus’ plating)
On rare occasions when everything is too much for him, he has destructive outbursts. He mostly breaks his surroundings and himself, but if you keep pushing him while he’s having a meltdown it’s very possible for the people around him to get caught up as well.
Item number 638263873 on the list of things he feels awful for. If you forgive him, he won’t believe it.
🎭 A headcanon about what they lie about
I don’t think he’s very forthcoming about what the Matrix tells or shows him. He tries very hard to give everyone hope and keep their spirits up, and sometimes, to him, that looks like saying his prophetic visions toootally show everyone surviving and everything being okay in the end. He tells his friends they will live, does everything he can to change fate, and they die anyway like he knew they would. Yay💞
🔪 A headcanon relating to fighting/violence
He finds combat familiar and methodical and… not relaxing, but I can’t think of a better word right now. It’s easy for him to focus on. He’s ashamed of how it makes him feel, especially when he first realizes it, but as the war drags on he finds it easier just to sink into it.
You’re not going to find him sparring or training for stress relief, though, both because he’s absolutely awful about managing his stress, and because he doesn’t like people he doesn’t trust 130% seeing him like that.
I cannot remember a time where I did not feel tired
A strut-deep ache and weariness crawling in me like rust
Bleeding out from the grief in my spark and the scars in my armor.
Do you feel it too? You who inflicted it? Tell me —
do you feel regret?
I do.
So lay down your arms, warrior, and rest a while
Like when we were newsparks and the world was ours
Just two fragile lights laughing among the stars
Back when your frame meant "home."
Would you possibly be willing to doodle some Shockwave/Soundwave? I love the WaveWave. They are ridiculous and I feel that despite their seriousness, when combined they have all the braincells or none at all.