In the AU where unicron is optimus father what would happen if the kids were harmed or in a dangerous situation thanks to unicron resulting in the response of the optimus and the rest of the autobots
More pain for my lovely boy. This is going to be complete angst so to make sure Prime gets some comfort eventually, I am going to make an additional two parts for this in different posts.
A Father's Wrath
After months of watching Optimus be ignored and feared by his own team, the bots Optimus had come to see as family, Unicron grew angered. The chaos god understood their initial fear, but as he watched his only creation wallow and slowly fall to loneliness, his patience wore thin. This was his son, his glorious creation who had lowered himself to protect and care for Primus's lesser spawn, and now said spawn were rejecting that kindness. It was despicable.
The chaos god tried to reign in his anger for Optimus's sake. If nothing else the human vermin that had taken up residence on his frame were there to support his wayward creation. But days turned to weeks, and weeks into months until at last Unicron could take it no longer. One day after Optimus had struggled in vain to try and speak to any of his team only to be promptly ignored, Unicron at last snapped.
In a fit of rage, Unicron transferred power over to his creation unknowingly, causing Optimus to once again fall to the ground in agony as his frame rearranged itself to make up for the surplus of power. It was unintentional on Unicron's part, but as Optimus flailed and screamed, the waves of power emanating from him struck the children and the team. The team grew ill, most purging on the spot as Optimus pulled himself together and stood on shaky pedes, his spark once again exposed. But the children... they did not fare nearly as well.
They collapsed and convulsed. Jack became violently ill, throwing up as blood leaked from his eyes and ears. Miko started having a seizure that very nearly stopped her breathing altogether. And Rafael screamed and clawed at his face as the worst migraine he had ever gotten assaulted him. Before Optimus could do anything, Fowler was called in and the children were taken away for immediate hospitalization. The team left in Vehicle mode and parked in the hospital parking lot to keep a general optic on the children for fear that they might die while Optimus remained at base.
Left completely and utterly alone, Optimus cried. His frame once again shattered so thoroughly could not shed tears even if he tried, but the mixed dark and normal energon that leaked from his armor was enough of a testament to his grief. Otherworldly cries and wails echoed throughout the abandoned missile silo for hours as Optimus wept, hating himself and everything he was in that moment. The Matrix thrummed within him, trying to calm him and comfort its chosen bearer in its own odd way, but Optimus only composed himself nearly a day after being left alone to drown in his guilt. By the time the team came back, Optimus was no longer crying, but he was frantic for answers.
Optimus: The children, are they well?
Ratchet: *refusing to look at him*...
Optimus: Please, tell me their conditions!
Ratchet: *turning to leave* ...
Optimus: *grabbing his arm to keep him still* I can endure this silence no longer! Tell me what has befallen the children!
Ratchet: *snarling and ripping his arm away* They live, no thanks to you.
Optimus: Ratchet-
Ratchet: Save it! If this incident has proven anything, it is that you are dangerous, too dangerous to be kept near.
Optimus: Wait!
Ratchet: We are done. Take what you need and leave. You are no longer welcome here.
Optimus: Please don't do this-!
Ratchet: LEAVE!
The dooming declaration hung in the air as Optimus stopped dead in his tracks, the blazing motes of light that served as his optics flickering and wavering. His outstretched servo shook and his exposed spark pulsed in shock and horror. He looked at the rest of the team, desperate for it to be some cruel joke or perhaps a mistake. But as he met the fierce gazes of each of his former team, he knew the truth.
They feared him, and they wanted him gone.
The only one who didn't meet his pleading gaze was Bumblebee who instead opted to look away, unable to watch as Optimus was sent away. The Prime shook and energon leaked from his frame in his own version of tears as he sputtered in vain. However after a moment of silence, Optimus shuddered, turned away, and began gathering the few items he would take with him. He did not want to strip his family of anything important, after all, they still had a war to win. So all the Prime took was the few personal accessories he brought with him to earth, a singular first aid kit, and a whetstone for his in built blades.
He looked back pleadingly one last time as the ground bridge was fired up and prepared to send him halfway across the country. But as he was met with only cold and frigid glares by most, he tore his gaze away and said only one sentence before stepping through.
Optimus: If this is what you wish of me, I will honor it... but let it be known that I never intended for this to happen.
Optimus: ...
Optimus: I'm sorry.
He stepped through and the groundbridge closed behind him the moment he was out of sight. As soon as Optimus was gone, the team sighed collectively, not out of relief like they expected to, but out of grief for what they had done. But despite those feelings, they did not call Optimus back and instead each took time to themselves to think over the matter.
Arcee had been the one to hate Optimus most adamantly after the reveal, but as she lay in her berth, she found herself sorrowful. Optimus had been nothing but kind to her, caring for her and showing her the utmost sympathy and respect after the losses of her partners. He never yelled, he never harmed her, and he even willingly took hits for her more times than she could count. He was Unicron's creation, but he was the kindest mech she had ever met. She hated to admit it, but laying there after he left, she cried and tried to tell herself that it was for the best.
Bulkhead and Wheeljack were both very torn when it came to the matter of Optimus. Both respected him and looked up to him, even after the reveal they wanted to serve under him as they always had. After all, wreckers don't judge a mech so long as he does good. But with how dangerous he had proven to be, in their minds they could not afford to accept the risk that he posed, not when the children were in their care. As much as they loathed sending their Prime away, to them it was only right. It was what good wreckers would do...
Ratchet despised himself the moment he saw the look on Optimus's face after he ordered him to leave. He wished more than anything to take back those words, but his spark... his spark screamed in terror whenever his old friend looked at him. The sight of Optimus's blazing form and the feeling of his sickening spark waves washing over him were engraved into his memory. He couldn't look at Optimus the same way, not after all he had seen since Unicron's near awakening. He wanted to believe that what he was doing was right, that he was sending away a monster that had posed as Cybertronian like some sleeper agent for millions of years. But the pain in Optimus's glowing optics... it made Ratchet regret.
No monster could have looked so betrayed and so very broken at being sent away.
As for Bumblebee? He was left in a state of internal conflict. Much like Ratchet, he was terrified of his Sire's true form and nature, but like Arcee, he couldn't just ignore the fact that he had only ever been met with love and care from Optimus. The Prime had raised him, taken care of him, fought for him, and never once done a thing to harm him. Bumblebee wanted to think that he was cutting off a parasite or getting rid of a spy when he blocked off his bond with Optimus. But as he watched his Sire leave the base for what was likely the last time, Bumblebee felt empty and more alone than every before.
He had betrayed his Sire on every level and his spark knew it...
The children were not allowed back to base for over a week afterward as they recovered. Thankfully they did not suffer any serious damage and healed quickly. But upon entering base for the first time since the incident and seeing Bumblebee issuing orders instead of Optimus, they grew concerned. Immediately they tried to ask what had happened in their absence only to be met with silence from Fowler and June. Even when they turned to the team for answers, the bots simply dodged their questions, eventually up and lying by saying that Optimus was taking a few days to himself because he felt guilty.
The children were suspicious as pit, especially once they noticed the lack of avatars from Unicron and the mysterious disappearance of Optimus's plants, but they accepted it. The reasoning seemed plausible with Optimus's personality... so they waited.
Every day after school the children asked about Optimus. Bulkhead and Wheeljack only met their queries with guilty gazes and did their best to dodge the question. Arcee outright told the children to leave her alone every time they tried to talk with her about the absent Prime, only further rousing their suspicions. Ratchet straight up wouldn't even look at the children and tended to wander off muttering something whenever they tried going to him. And so lastly, after an additional week of prodding and begging for answers, Bumblebee stepped up as leader and gave them.
Jack: Where's Optimus? I know you said he was taking some time off, but it's been nearly two weeks!
Miko: It isn't like him!
Rafael: Optimus is always working and never takes breaks. Did something happen to him?
Bumblebee: ...
Rafael: Bee?
Bumblebee: For your safety, Optimus Prime has been stripped of his badge and exiled for harming innocents, associating with the enemy, and traitorous behavior.
The children: What!?!
The children were distraught but could do nothing once the truth was revealed. They could only make a fuss and give the team the silent treatment in retribution. The team did not take Optimus's absence and the children's reactions well... and neither did the Prime even with the distance between them.
Optimus set up camp in his alt-mode once his frame had healed from the power burst. He hid out in an old garage on some farmstead where a human male and his daughter lived. He stayed undercover for nearly a week in his alt-mode, both to allow his frame to recover and to wallow. He was absolutely spark broken at being sent away and most of his time in alt-mode was spent lamenting his losses.
But the Matrix has never been one to allow its bearer to remain inactive for long, and it swiftly pushed Optimus to move, to do something. As such Optimus resolved himself and left his makeshift base of operations with one goal in mind.
He would continue to fight for his Autobots, weather they wanted him to or not.
Unicron tried to reach out to his creation multiple times during the whole fiasco, but Optimus ignored him, angry at his father for destroying the delicate balance he had forged with his team. As such Optimus went at his work alone, using his remaining access to Autobot codes and signatures to track down his old team to assist where he could.
He would not stand idly by, not while Megatron still lurked.
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kids remind me, often, of the things i've taught myself out of.
i have a big dog. he looks like a deer. he is taller than most young children. while we were on a trail the other day, a boy coming our direction saw us and froze. he took a step back and said: "i'm feeling nervous. your - your dog is kind of big."
goblin and i both stopped walking immediately. "he is kind of a big dog," i admitted. "he's called a greyhound. they are gentle but they are pretty tall, which is kind of scary, you're right. their legs are so long because they are made for running fast. i am sorry we scared you. would you like us to stand still while you move past us, or would you feel more safe in your body if we move and you stay still?'
"oh. i didn't know that about - greyhounds. i think i ... i want to stay still," he said. at this point, his adult had caught up to us. "i'm nervous about the dog," he told her, "so i'm - i'm gonna stay still." she didn't argue. she didn't make fun of him. she just smiled at him and at me and held his hand while goblin and i, with as wide of a berth as we could make, crept our way through.
behind us, i heard him exhale a deep breath and kind of laugh - "he was really big, huh? she said it's because greyhounds have to go fast."
"he was big," she said. "i understand why that could have made you a little scared."
"yeah. next time i - next time do you think i could maybe ask to touch him? when - i mean, next time, maybe, if i'm not nervous."
later, going to a work event, in the big city, i stood outside, trembling. my social anxiety as a caught bird in my chest. i took a deep breath and turned to my coworker. she's not even really my friend yet. i told her: "i feel nervous about this. i am not used to meeting new people, ever since covid."
she laughed, but not in a mean way. she said she was nervous too. she reached her hand out and held mine, and we both took another deep breath and walked in like that, interlinked. a few people asked us - together? - and i told the truth: i feel nervous, and she's helping. over and over i watched people relax too, admitting i feel really kind of shy lately actually, thank you for saying that.
the next time i go to an event, and i feel a little scared, i ask right away: wanna hold hands? this feels a little dangerous. i hesitate less. i don't hide it as much. i watch for other people who are also nervous and say - it's kinda hard, huh?
i know, logically, i'm not good at asking for help. but i am also not good at noticing when i need help. i've trained myself out of asking completely, but i've also trained myself to never accept my own fears or excuses. i have trained myself to tamp down every anxiety and just-push-through. i don't know what i'm protecting myself from - just that i never think to admit it to anyone.
but every person on earth occasionally needs comfort. every person on earth occasionally needs connection. many of us were taught independence is the same thing as never needing anything.
each of us should have had an adult who heard - i feel nervous and held our hand and asked us how we could be helped to feel safe. no judgement, and no chiding. many of us did not. many of us were punished for the ways that we seemed "weak".
but here is something: i am an adult now. and i get nervous a lot, actually. and if you are an adult and you are feeling a little nervous - come talk to me. we can hold hands and figure out what will help us feel safe in our bodies. and maybe, next time, if we're brave, we can pet the dog that's passing.
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there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)
i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.
i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.
and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.
HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.
now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.
my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.
i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.
by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!
keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"
similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."
the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"
if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.
the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.
godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.
the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.
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