optical flare

TFP MegOP what-if

Yo imagine if like, for a long time Orion had been working up the gumption to tell Megatron how he felt but it ended up coming out at literally the worst time? And the situation doesn’t wrap up all pretty with a bow on top, no, Megatron is basically something like: “What the FUCK Orion, don’t tell me heavy shit like that I am way too pissed/stressed rn!” because life isn’t a romcom and whatnot.

So picture the immediate aftermath of that fateful day before the council. Orion had onlined that morning thinking: “Yes. Today is the day– I will say it. We will all be so proud, and then I’ll just… tell him.” (Woo yes honey, breathe Orion, you got this bby.)

But then, shit, Orion comes out of that meeting long after Megatron stormed away. Their talks went on for so long it’s already dark outside. They want him to become a candidate for the Primacy. They want him to… no, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be! He can’t do this…right? He can’t…

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but somehow a tiny portion of his spark had hoped Megatron would stick around for him, sulking out of sight in the shadows. He could really use some support right now.

But Megatron isn’t there.

Orion has a good idea of where to find him however, and sets off to their usual place. He needs to tell him; he needs to tell him… so many things…

But when he gets there, Soundwave stands up and blocks his path.

“Soundwave, what is the meaning of this?” Orion says, careful not to show his frustration.“I must speak to Megatronus.”

“Orion Pax: untrustworthy.” Soundwave replies, unwavering. Orion swears he can hear a hint of bitterness in his tone. Despite this, he squares himself, standing up straighter to better look Soundwave in the… faceplate. (To the best of his ability)

“Soundwave. Please.” Orion says evenly, “It is important.”

Important.” Megatron snorts and parrots mockingly somewhere behind Soundwave.

“Yes, I–”

“Our values are vastly different, Orion Pax. What you deem as ‘important’ is, quite frankly, of no interest to me right now.”

Orion has nothing to say to that. He knows he shouldn’t press, so he waits for whatever Megatron will say next.

“…I should have known.” Seeing this becoming a conversation, Soundwave steps aside enough so that Orion can see Megatron, but does well to keep a servo in place to prevent access.

“I should not have expected the council to see so far beyond their own cast. Entitlement has bred ignorance–”

“–And ignorance has bred fear, misunderstanding…” Orion supplies. It’s a bad move on his part because Megatron’s helm shoots up to glare at him from where he is seated.

“Misunderstanding or not, my message was clear. This is quite the setback. I see now that the council cannot be reasoned with…”


“–What are you still doing here? It isn’t enough that you’ve gained your council’s favor? Go home, Orion Pax.” Megatron’s words are firm and biting, and though he had been prepared for some backlash it still causes Orion to pause for a moment.

“… Megatron that was never my inten–”

“Then what WAS your intention, Pax? What did you think would happen when you undermined me in front of the council??”

“I was trying to help!” Orion clenched his servos reflexively, taking a step in emphasis only for his chassis to come in contact with Soundwave.

“Don’t be a fool Megatron; though your message was sound, your delivery… it was not sitting well with them. I saw that we needed an intervention, I saved the cause!” What possessed him to shout back like that, Orion may never know, but he is quite sure that he has never felt his spark sink so fast and so far when Megatron gets up and starts to walk towards him, ever so slowly. Like an awakened predator.

He never thought he would see those optics so cold.



When he reaches him, Megatron leans down so that they are optic to optic; Orion lets out a shuddering exvent he hadn’t realized he was holding and Soundwave dismisses himself. They hold each other’s gaze for a few long kliks before Megatron breaks the silence with a low, venomous growl.

“…Have you come to gloat, son of Iacon?”


“Then what is it?”

“I– because, you–”

“–Why are you here?!?”

“BECAUSEILOVEYOU!!!” Orion immediately gasps and slaps a servo to his intake. No, he didn’t… scrap. SCRAP, no, not like this!!

“No, I… w-what I meant to say was… the council, since they– well, we can work with this! We can come up with a plan, I can work on the inside. W-we can–”

“–Go. HOME, son of Iacon.” Megatron’s optics flare in emphasis, his unspoken emotions are pretty clear. He can’t deal with this right now, there are far more important things. It’s unnecessary, it’s inappropriate, it’s–

“–Megatron…” Orion reaches for him, pleading with his optics for some sort of support, some reassurance.

Things Megatron cannot provide him with.

He swiftly straightens, watching Orion’s expression and extended servo fall.

“Go back to your council and warn them if you so desire.” Megatron says, turning sharply and heading back towards his seat. He pauses only a moment, clenching his servos even tighter and speaking over his shoulder.

“My war is coming for them.”

He doesn’t turn around until he has heard Orion’s retreat. Megatron looks on at his friend’s receding form, outlined and illuminated by moonlight. Perhaps, another time, perhaps… if things were different…

He shakes his helm. No. The time for daydreaming is over– no longer will he write poems of emotional turmoil and social reform– now it is time to act. He grabs a cube of high grade, watching the horizon.

“And for Pits sake, Orion.” He adds to himself, so quiet not even Soundwave can make it all out:

“…Stay out of trouble.

np-personal  asked:

Straight clear lines, long box-like fingers, optics that flare, dark colours and those straight white lines that you use to emphasise on a metallic shining thingie. But, most of all, the fact that you draw TFs like Saints from orthodoxian churches :D

TFA Megaop AU w.i.p. 2

I THINK I’m gonna call this series “Lost in Translation” thank u @caitlins-junkdrawer for the suggestion. It’s so cheesy I love it.

Also you can thank Reyairia and their amazing fic Battlesleep for Lugnut’s mannerism in this. I realllly reallly love that fic. AHHH.

Edit: I’m a nerd and forgot t link PT1. Cnt’d from here

“Surely you’d know him,” Megatron pressed after he was given a loud hiss. He took a few steps inside the hollowed out cavern and glanced around. “My, you’ve certainly decorated.”

Keep reading

Title: First Born

Pairings: Ratchet/Predaking, hints of Ratchet/Optimus

Summery: Ratchet is the first Cybertronian to give birth on revived Cybertron,

AN: For gokuma, she put ideas in my head all because of this X

hope this makes you feel a little better sweetie! :huggles:

can be viewed as part of the Predaking/Ratchet fics I’ve previously done



Ratchet couldn’t believe what he was seeing… He sat there, exhausted and shocked to his very core… After an emotionally draining, rough and complicated carriage, plus the agony of berthing such an uncommonly large sparkling… he though the worsted was behind him… But now Ratchet was faced with an utterly unnerving sight…. 

The large mechling in his arms was beautiful, there was no mistake of that. He was shiny and new and thank Primus healthy. It was clear to all gathered who his sire was. The new born spark had very tell-tail beastly traits. He bore small folded wings, spiny plating and sharp little claws. He was a deep Midnight blue with brilliant vivid red highlights and silver faceplate. But there was something about him that was unsettling the old medic… something that made his Energon run cold…

The Sparklings face… his EM field… his very spark… they all felt far, far to familiar… painfully so… a signature he had loved so dearly… that he had etched into his memory and his own spark… he’d recognize it anywhere and it scared him… terrified him… His mind and spark must be playing tricks on him… It couldn’t be true… it wasn’t possible… yet… here he was…and if he closed his eye’s… it was as if…

“Mate? What is wrong?” Came the rich concerned voice of his partner, the Dragonformer and The leader of the Predacons. The hulking mech knelt beside his small white mate, his immense servos resting against his quaking bonded frame. “My love ,your shaking…”

“He’s… He’s…” Ratchet looked up at the Predacon, his blue optics wide and cycling in panic, he couldn’t find the right words… his spark and mind were a jumble of joy and sorrow, of confusion and fear. He didn’t know what to feel or say, he felt everything and Numb all at once… his spark was fit to burst… his optics stinging as they flared with charged energy. He couldn’t explain how or why he though as he did and he was afraid of what the big powerful mech would say if he voiced all his apparent chaotic crazy thoughts… yet his mind refused to believe otherwise…

Predaking appeared to think for a moment before he looked down at the little one in his lover arms. His bright yellow optics were warm and soft as he gently running his claws over his sparkling midnight blue helm with fatherly tenderness. The bitlets big unusual Green optics focused on the Predacon and he cooed and whistled happily at his sire. The black and Orange mech gave the doctor a knowing smile.

“Is it not said that sparks do not die? That we all return to be reborn to anew… It is fitting that ‘he’ should be the first to return,” The Predacon said softly, optics full of wisdom beyond his short lived life. “Do not fear my love, for I am honoured that he has come to us… chosen us to be his protectors… we shall love him and care for him… give him a good life… the life he wanted for all… the one he should have had…”

Ratchet bust into frame racking sobs and he held the mechling impossibly close, the emotional flood gates opening wide. He didn’t think he could love the Dragonformer any more then at this moment, he was eternally grateful for his mates compassion and understanding. Relieved that he wasn’t crazy… Predaking saw and felt it too… knew who he held in his arms… and he accepted it… welcomed it… The doctor was lost for words… he would never be able to thank the mech enough for his care or tenderness.

The Predacon scooped up his new family unit, wrapping the medic up in his own warm embrace, He stoked his bonded plating in reassurance as he rumbled and purred soothingly. Nothing but utter pride and love for his mate and child could be seen on his face. He simply held his family protectively as his mate let his bottled emotions go…

“Precious little one.” Ratchet managed to get out through his sniffles and tears. He held the sparkling to his chest while he lent against his bigger lover, taking comfort in both the familiar pulses of the sparks that surrounded him. Of old and new love. He felt Predaking hold him tight, taking the doctors servo in his own clawed one. Ratchets head felt dizzy with joy as he kissed and nuzzled the little one in his arms. “Welcome home… Orion.”

You want film grain, try shooting film… by hjl on Flickr.

1/250, f/4, Tri-X, Pentax Super-Takumar 135mm f/2.5 on Spotmatic F. HC-110, 1:160, 44 min @ 19C semi stand.

I want to shoot film, what should I get?

From time to time, I get questions like: “What kind of Instagram filter is that?” (from cameraphone enthusiasts), or “I have Lightroom and Photoshop, is there a preset for that look”, (from photographers starting to explore postprocessing) or “I want to try shooting film, what should I get? My friend has a Holga, it’s pretty inexpensive” (anyone who hasn’t used a film camera).

What many people associate with a “film look” is a combination of wide aperture (shallow depth of field, bokeh, vignetting), older optics (more lens flare, no autofocus, no aspherical elements, no CAD/CAM manufacturing, softer corner focus), plus the characteristics of the film and processing itself (film grain, tonality, color response, processing artifacts). You can (and I do) model many of these behaviors in a digital processing workflow to achieve a similar visual result. However, it’s often easier and less expensive to do this with actual film workflows, and the experience of making images with film has very different dynamics, which contribute to the aesthetics of the “film look”.

A major obstacle for many people interested in trying this out is simply figuring out what to get (and where to get it, since none of it is sold and marketed in retailers now).

Here’s a short list for a film photography starter kit:

1. Canon AE-1 body ($20)

2. Canon FD 50mm f/1.8 lens ($15)

3. ND8 filter ($5)

4. (optional) Extension tube for Canon FD ($15)

These are recent prices from eBay, including shipping. So you can get your basic camera + fast lens for $40, and add an extension tube for closeups and macro for another $15.

5. Film: Tri-X ($5) for black and white, Ultramax 400 for color ($5) or Portra 400 for color ($10)

6. Mail-order processing ($15 / roll, negatives + scan)

Canon shipped over a million units of the AE-1 and AE-1P in the 70’s and 80’s, so the vast inventory of used-but-working equipment tends to hold used prices down. The FD lenses can also be used with an adapter to fit virtually all modern digital cameras *except* for Canon’s own EOS-mount cameras (which is all of them).

This setup is *not* a good vehicle for creating “Holga-looking” images. You should get a Holga for that. It’s a similar cost to get started ($25-$50, new).

Roberts Camera or KEH will provide a warranty for used equipment (but cost more) if you don’t use eBay

Here are a few sample photos made with the 50mm f/1.8 on an FD-mount body. There isn’t a good way to simulate the wide-aperture look on a phone or P&S, but it’s very easy to do with inexpensive vintage equipment:

Made with Flickr


Cyclonus optics were flared and he was on edge. He was not seeing Galvatron, he wasn’t seeing the warlord before him, he was seeing someone else. The seeker lowered his wings while he vented some and backed up from Galvatron as the other glared at him. His mouth was bitten, kept closed by the denta inside, mimicking what he was feeling going on.

Galvatron stood up a bit and watched him before lifting a servo. “Cyclonus. I know you never meant to do that. See reason. Snap out of it!” The warlord stated, before holding his arm as it dangled by his side.