::Do any of those cards of yours do anything actually helpful?::

slenderwave:

Ugh. Who told him? It was Smokescreen, wasn’t it?

Soundwave sends a confirmation ping from the throwaway frequency he’s been using and thinks. He wasn’t going to allow any Megatrons to try, mostly because of those helpful things, but… he’s seen some pretty nasty stuff as well, and there’s that Void card he heard about. Imagine separating Megatron’s spark from his frame and getting it trapped in a bottle, or a box, or something like that. It’d solve an awful lot of problems, wouldn’t it?

…He’ll wait and see if Megatron has anything else to say.

Not knowing anything of the severity of these cards, Megatron figures that he’s been through and shrugged off enough magic in the past. Surely it can’t do any harm that couldn’t be reversed… 

And as far as he knows, he’s on better terms with this Soundwave. Not good terms, not by a long shot. But better. He hasn’t forgotten their agreement.

::Alright then. Although, if I am to draw one for myself, I’m afraid you’ll have to come to me. My fuel “disagrees” with your atmosphere.::

12. Reincarnation AU w/ big-shoes-to-fill

It had been years since Megatron had finally laid down his sword for the last time. Soundwave had made good on his promise, dividing up the old mech’s frame so that he could not become Unicron’s eternal puppet. 

Stories and theories were thrown around among religious mechs as to what became of the Lord High Protector’s spark after he passed. Some affirmed that the Allspark was the final resting place for all, no matter what. Others believed that he was forever barred from their creator, his spark doomed to fade into nothingness for his transgressions. Still others claimed that the rituals the foreigner performed were pointless, and that Megatron was with Unicron now, bound even in death by the dark energon.

A swell of newsparks came not long after, guided to the surface by a mech named Sabri. It was natural for newsparks to feel an attachment to the mech who first taught them, but a large one who came to call himself Dragline kept particularly close. When asked why he preferred Sabri’s company, he can’t explain it beyond “…Feels better.”

slenderwave:

mightymegatron

There are very few in the world who understand how Megatron thinks as well as Soundwave does. This is apparently true of even those from other universes, and it both pleases and irks Megatron like nothing else can.

He’s right about one thing. If there is no other way to remove the Dark Energon, he will succumb to Unicron upon his death, no matter how far into the future that may be. He’s seen it happen to his alternates. However…

::What I have always done is take my life into my own hands. Giving it over to a being whose existence I repeatedly attempted to end would be a sentence in and of itself! What you speak of is no battle, it is surrender.::

Keep reading

Megatron listens while his armor flares and his field bristles in defensive aggression. He listens as the screen of the datapad he’s holding cracks under the claw of his thumb from holding it too tightly. He listens as Soundwave doesn’t lecture so much as dissect him with exactly what he doesn’t want to hear. 

But he listens.

He understands nothing better than fighting for yourself;

this is logic he can’t refute, logic he would use. Logic he’d been blinded to.

There’s no way to know for sure that the traitor is being honest, but his offer isn’t something to be taken lightly, not when Soundwave had gone out of his way to yell at him from across the bridge he’d burned in defecting. Megatron knows that if Soundwave understands him this well, he can understand Soundwave, at least a little, too.

It’s been a long time since the last message, but the line is still open. His glyphs aren’t as harsh when he finally does send them, without a hint of sarcasm.

::I will take that into consideration, Soundwave. So long as there are no puppets involved.::

“Heh. Why did you ever leave…” His tone was less accusing and more melancholy. Probably too much like a rhetorical despair instead of a question. He’s glad he hadn’t said it over comm.

Battle intro: “It’s been too long, Soundwave. I hope you’ve kept up on your battle protocols.”

Victory: “I expected more from you.”

Defeat: No words, just a challenging glare from his place on the ground. A dare.

Assist: “One of our little secrets.”

Taunt: “What’s the matter, Soundwave? Afraid without that accursed barrier?”

Reacting to Taunt: “I’ll show you weak-!”

Flee: “I am not finished with you yet…”

Reacting to Flee: “You cannot run from this, Soundwave!!”

Tie: Panting from exertion with a grin. “Just like old times.”

Perfect Victory: “Do not insult me! Fight back!”

Finishing Move: His blade pressed to Soundwave’s chest while his cannon whirs to reflect its light in his visor. “Do you yield?”

slenderwave:

@mightymegatron​ from here

::Do not mistake my refusal for ignorance! Of course I carry a grudge, of course I’m wary of this choice! Should I instead hurry to my likely death, when there could only be a slim chance that it may work to our betterment?::

::After all, the last few times I acted on such an impulse, it worked so incredibly well.::

[[Your likely death should have been the space bridge explosion. All of your time since then has been stolen, and you only grow weaker with age. You may survive now. Delay will sentence you.]]

A long pause. Soundwave does not feel loyalty toward this mech, nor toward his former leader, but he still remembers who they once were and what he used to admire about them.

[[…Your alternate let no mech own his spark in the pits of Kaon. Why do you not fight to reclaim yours? When did Megatron become afraid to die in battle?]]

There are very few in the world who understand how Megatron thinks as well as Soundwave does. This is apparently true of even those from other universes, and it both pleases and irks Megatron like nothing else can.

He’s right about one thing. If there is no other way to remove the Dark Energon, he will succumb to Unicron upon his death, no matter how far into the future that may be. He’s seen it happen to his alternates. However…

::What I have always done is take my life into my own hands. Giving it over to a being whose existence I repeatedly attempted to end would be a sentence in and of itself! What you speak of is no battle, it is surrender.::

Soundwave hasn’t touched this frequency in a long, LONG time. He believed all hope for it to be lost ages back. Now he sends a cold, sharp message. [[Do not be a fool. Primus offers you a great gift. See beyond your pride and take it.]]

slenderwave:

mightymegatron:

It takes him a moment to register the frequency. It’s difficult to tell whether or not the identity of the mech has any impact on his response.

::I will not blindly accept aid from a God I once sought to destroy!! I will not bow to anyone, I will not beg for my redemption! Look at what happened when I tried!!::

[[You have already bowed to someone! What use is it to rebuild a planet when your eventual death will doom it again? You wish to see your Cybertron thrive, do you not?]]

[[Primus has not asked you to be blind, or to beg. He has not asked you to ask. He has offered you the chance to make a decision – and you continue to be a short-sighted, unfit leader, just as you and your late alternate were so many times before.]]

▓▒░ Don’t allow eons of history and life to be blinked out of being just because you have a grudge with your creator. ░▒▓

::Do not mistake my refusal for ignorance! Of course I carry a grudge, of course I’m wary of this choice! Should I instead hurry to my likely death, when there could only be a slim chance that it may work to our betterment?::

::After all, the last few times I acted on such an impulse, it worked so incredibly well.::

Soundwave hasn’t touched this frequency in a long, LONG time. He believed all hope for it to be lost ages back. Now he sends a cold, sharp message. [[Do not be a fool. Primus offers you a great gift. See beyond your pride and take it.]]

It takes him a moment to register the frequency. It’s difficult to tell whether or not the identity of the mech has any impact on his response.

::I will not blindly accept aid from a God I once sought to destroy!! I will not bow to anyone, I will not beg for my redemption! Look at what happened when I tried!!::

Two.

[One.]

He couldn’t recall collapsing into recharge, but the onslaught of forced memory was still fresh in his helm, the audio as clear as if it had happened yesterday. He’d never seen that particular day from an outside perspective before, and now the exchange roiled in his tanks. The pain was fresh too, but dull compared to when he’d crashed, writhing, to the floor. 

At some point after his fit, Rex had come and lain his massive head on Megatron’s chest and the warlord lacked the energy to scold him for it. He scratched the old hound’s neck as he sat up, frame protesting from last night’s activity… No. If his chronometer was right, three days- cycles had passed since the dream. He should be much more sore, but moving almost seems easier now. Admittedly, he had been neglecting his rest. Rex rose with him and chuffed at the door’s keypad, asking to be let out.

With what he thought was a parting pat on the head, the warlord unlocked the door, but Rex merely plodded through and stopped, turning to stare at Megatron. He barked, the boom echoing through the halls. He barked again, taking a step down the hallway before barking a third time. 

“Stop that racket!” he barked back at Rex, making to grab at the canine’s haunch. Surprisingly quick, Rex dodged his master’s grip and barked again after running down the hallway. Megatron growled at the animal, infuriated by his sudden disobedience. Before he could disrupt work on the entire ship, the warlord ran after him. 

He chased the enormous hound through room after room and only after the third did he notice something stranger than Rex’s behavior. None of his soldiers were paying him any mind. Either of them: the barking beast or their mighty leader stomping after it. No one was even looking up. Finally he commanded their attention, pointing toward his unruly pet and shouting “Seal the doors, catch him!”

Nothing. The vehicons kept running their calculations, sipping energon or talking among themselves, unconcerned with the presence of their Lord. He unsheathed his sword, glaring as it drew no reaction from the vehicon he pointed it towards. Now suspicious, Megatron pointed it instead at Rex. “What have you done to me?”

Rex panted happily as he looked back up at Megatron, no different than he had ever appeared. He received no answer apart from another bark as the hound made his way through another door. Seeing no point to an alternative, Megatron followed, calmly this time.

The door he came out of was not the one he’d gone through. They were outside now, on the fringes of New Iacon, where Rex plodded through the sparsely populated streets. Every so often, he would pause and look into a window, and so Megatron felt this meant he should do the same. Each building out here was newly occupied, the residents of all factions taking time to make the meager apartments feel more like home. Posters and religious statues, foreign treasures collected on their time off-world.

Rex sat before the sixth house on the street, staring in on the first solitary mech they’d come across. “Datastream… why have you brought me here? She was the desperate Autobot who played at being my assassin. Is she not adjusting well?” His question dripped with obligatory interest. Of course she hated her situation, she had attempted violence to change it merely a year ago. The yellow Praxian had crudely removed her false Decepticon brands, but hadn’t replaced them with Autobot ones either. She sat in the bare room, weary optics closed, her servo resting on the old nameplate off of her ship.

Megatron sneered, unsurprised. “Am I supposed to pity her for being alone, for regretting her mistakes? She undermined my cause, attempted to-” A vehicon walked through him, unaffected by the presence of his invisible Lord. A golden mech accompanied him, and the warlord then recognized them as the medics that had traveled on the Black Halo with their former captain. Datastream leaped up when they knocked, obviously expecting them… and Megatron watched, dumbfounded, as they laughed together and helped her hang the nameplate from her ceiling. A visored helomech, still wearing his badges emerged from further within the home and wrapped his arms around her. 

Despite her treachery, despite her betrayal to not only the Decepticons but to her crew, they had accepted her back with open arms. They had moved on. Rex was staring at him, and Megatron did not need to guess why. Holding onto the pain of his hatred for so long had done nothing but cause more of it. Megatron glared down at his dog. “What is the point of this lesson? I cannot reconcile with my past as they have, not when the Autobots are scattered to the winds, not when Optimus is rusting in his grave! Thank you, for showing me what I could have had!” 

The warlord turned to leave, but once again found himself somewhere he hadn’t been a moment ago. He was atop a recently reconstructed tower, where Starscream stood, looking, for the first time in Megatron’s memory, peaceful. Megatron turned away and found himself facing a hallway on familiar ship, where a young femme, stripped of his paint, stomped in the opposite direction. With a frustrated growl, he exited to find a dim room where Soundwave stood at a console, though going by his many symbiotes, this one was not his own. In another whirl, he stood in a cavernous room, where a warm, blue light flickered at the center of a massive sphere that Megatron had to shield his optics from. When he looked back up, he was at an Earth roadstop, standing beside a familiar parked semi, looking as if it had been sitting there for quite some time.

Rex sat in front of him, tilting his helm. “… I understand.” There were still those he had wronged, those who had wronged him that could benefit from the release of the toxic hold of past grudges. He didn’t have to make the same mistake again. 

At his words, Rex stood on his hind legs, bracing himself on Megatron’s frame to lick at his face, much to the warlord’s chagrin. When he was finally able to push the beast away, they were back in his quarters, and his hound circled the berth for recharge. Megatron himself leaned heavily on his desk, feeling like he had when he’d set down his mining equipment for the last time:

Leaving a familiar world behind in favor of one much larger.