From Megatron’s perspective, it has taken a lot for him to find these words. It has been even more to assign the time let alone the resolve to send them, but all they are is simply: ::I have been thinking of you, Rung.::

willnotgogently:

Rung reads the message and hears his voice and it’s like his spark is filled up with warmth and his plating actually tingles. Having a moment alone, he curls himself up on a chair to respond. ::And I’ve been thinking of you, dear spark. I can hardly wait to see you again.::

Such simple endearment, but Megatron can’t keep himself from smiling. ::I am hardly myself again, though moreso than I was.:: His helm falls back against the berth, servo resting idly on his chest.

::I almost feel you here with me, but these mere glyphs lack your warmth. May I join you there soon, and feel it once more? In exchange I would to show you… what of me remains unchanged.::

the-lord-of-light:

mightymegatron:

the-lord-of-light:

“ @mightymegatron , join me for a drink?”

The most suspicious of looks is plastered on his face as he joins the god, still looking as if Unicron stretched and contorted him in several directions.

“…Why?”

“Why not? From what I’ve been learning, and can see with your current state, you went through quite the ordeal with a fragment of Unicron. I haven’t seen this happen in a very long time.”

The deity wasn’t in the state of Prophet as others were used to seeing him. Primus looked like a full knight in armor with wings draped at his sides and loosely cloaked over his shoulders. It was a form better suited to his immense power. As was the size to match Megatron’s new appearance.

“We… Never really got to talk, did we? About anything when you were still yourself. I’ve held conversations with others, but never quite you. Not at any length. My memory isn’t as it should right now, so you’ll have to forgive any mistakes I make.”

Golden optics looked out from beneath a retracted visor. Holds out a glass of a liquid that seemed to shift between a heavy metal liquid and smoke. It was perfectly safe as Primus himself took a sip. “And I would congratulate you on beating Unicron if I wasn’t concerned for the cost and toll it’s taken on you.”

To him, Primus looked like ancient depictions of himself, as instantly recognizable as he was to the Chaosbringer. Righteous order and violent chaos. Looking down at the drink, it was hard not to be reminded of the last time he’d been made to share one with his opposite. There was even pain in his chest now as there was back then, though from something closer to grief than anger. Taking the strange drink, Megatron stares into its swirling mist rather than partake just yet.

“Not since you claimed I was not unworthy of you. Not since you… Prophet said that he would try to cleanse my frame of dark energon if I asked.” There goes the drink, half-downed in one swig.

“…This wretched cost was worth being free of him again.”

the-lord-of-light:

“ @mightymegatron , join me for a drink?”

The most suspicious of looks is plastered on his face as he joins the god, still looking as if Unicron stretched and contorted him in several directions.

“…Why?”

the-scrappy-stinger:

mightymegatron:

the-scrappy-stinger:

mightymegatron:

the-scrappy-stinger:

mightymegatron replied to your photo:
I’m a big broad Bumble now!

(Have some head pats he doesn’t have to lean down for!)

(But the smile Megatron receives is as big and glowing as ever.)

Even more of a good thing.

(Bee takes stock of his friend.)

You’re looking more like yourself, my lord.

Less rust, less… protrusions. If everything goes well, Singer will have me back to my familiar appearance in less than a month. I’ll enjoy freely walking the halls again.

I can, like, vividly relate to bring the wrong size right now. But…

(He holds out a hand to compare it to Megatron’s. In both their biggened states, it puts them at about the ratio they are normally.)

Still…

You can still easily ride on my shoulders. (He smiles gently, comforted by their normal proportions, at least for now.)

Soon we’ll both be the right sizes again, but I don’t mind the temporary shift.

the-scrappy-stinger:

mightymegatron:

the-scrappy-stinger:

mightymegatron replied to your photo:
I’m a big broad Bumble now!

(Have some head pats he doesn’t have to lean down for!)

(But the smile Megatron receives is as big and glowing as ever.)

Even more of a good thing.

(Bee takes stock of his friend.)

You’re looking more like yourself, my lord.

Less rust, less… protrusions. If everything goes well, Singer will have me back to my familiar appearance in less than a month. I’ll enjoy freely walking the halls again.

Rubbing Salt

slenderwave‌:

mightymegatron‌:

Megatron found himself unable to sleep despite having filmed something for an upcoming public announcement earlier. He looked over at Soundwave’s form, silent and unmoving as ever. Laserbeak slept docked in his chest, which rose and fell in incredibly minute intervals that may easily be missed if one didn’t stare. Nothing was improving, and if those readings were accurate, Singer was having to give him higher doses of medication. He would have to ask about that.

As it did often now, Megatron’s mind wandered. Perhaps something in his archived files would keep him occupied, some memory that would give insight into a solution here. Instead, a datapacket titled “Personal Guidelines, Subject: Atonement” sat unopened at the forefront of his archives, sent from Soundwave’s alternate. He thought he had deleted it… He may as well listen to what the defector had to say.

Keep reading

Most days, nothing beyond a certain level of unpleasantness happened in Soundwave’s territory without his knowledge. Fights which could not be resolved were mediated by Ravage, who had become known for being cold and impartial but fair. Repairs and medical issues were either seen to by those with the skill to perform them or outsourced to mechs from other settlements. Threats both non-sentient and otherwise were swiftly dealt with in whichever manner Soundwave considered most appropriate – typically by thoroughly convincing them that they were not the most dangerous creatures in the area.

But even he could be surprised from time to time.

Keep reading

A small part of Megatron took great pleasure in how uncomfortable Soundwave looked when he first appeared. How anxiety read so easily in the angles of his tensed and unsure frame.

The rest of him turns the reason that he’s able to read those cues so well into a distilled ball of bitter resentment. He sneers as if he can taste the feeling, wanting to spit it back into this other Soundwave’s mask. Instead, the only warning before he swings is the release for his sword to slide from its place in his arm. It’s not a move motivated by impulse alone; from experience, he knows that giving this opponent too much time to prepare is a deadly mistake.

“You’ve made that perfectly clear, old friend!! Fleeing somewhere I could not follow, throwing your lances from afar! All that I could tolerate, even if I couldn’t forgive your loss!”

thesoundlessvoid‌:

mightymegatron‌:

Megatron may not have tusks, but he may as well have horns, and his claws are no less capable. While he does not dwarf the tyton, he’s gained enough mass to meet him in sheer size.

Remaining seated seems like the best choice for this, in an attempt to seem as non-threatening in this form as possible. Singer looks nervously between the two of them, before returning to his work station to give them space.

“Unwillingly, I assure you. I am in the process of returning my frame to normal… after Unicron’s possession of it.” He did not meet Blackout’s optics but watched the helo’s shoulder instead, keeping his field reigned tightly in. His reveal could be disastrous, but it had to be done.

Blackout despises gods. All gods, not even just the “bad” ones – Unicron and Primus are both halves to the horrible whole as far as the forty-four foot tyton is concerned. Neither of them have ever meant anything good for him.

Clutching one of the necks of his 2-neck harpguitar nervously, as he had been intending on serenading what he thought was a sick Megatron with music, the rotorflier swallows.

“Unicron, huh?” he mumbles almost under his breath. “Always some good news. You’d think gods would have better shit to do than meddle with mortals, huh?”

Singer has all but been forgotten for the tyton. His focus is entirely on the “boss”, the mech he followed into war for so long. For the wrong reasons, a voice chimes from the black depths of his mind, but Blackout squashes it.

You have no reason to feel such loyalty to this mech, Soul Eater whispers.

Shut it.

You joined his cause so you could further your own. Does he know that? Does he know you killed his own soldiers half as often as you killed the enemy?

SHUT UP.

Blackout shakes his head sharply once and the concentrated fearful look vanishes under a charming smile. “Shit happens,” he quips, moving over to plant his aft on the empty medical berth across from Megatron. “Are you feeling better?”

Considerably tense, but that was to be expected. Honestly, the quick return to casual conversation is a welcome surprise; he’d half-expected Blackout to attack him, or turn right around and leave. As soon as the tyton begins to relax, Megatron does too, looking a little more like himself again with a fanged grin.

“Eto luchshe, chem byt’ mertvym. You’re looking much better, yourself. But of course, it’s near impossible to keep a gladiator down for long.” Hopefully the same would hold true for his conjunx. “A little music and nostalgia certainly couldn’t hurt, either.”

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen‌:

mightymegatron‌:

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

They’re neck and neck, the end is in sight… and Smokescreen stops. Megatron shuts down his engines and transforms, skidding to a stop on his pedes just before the blast in the ground. His fans vent hard, cooling his core. Immediately he turns around and begins walking back towards the Autobot, speaking as he does.

“I would start moving again, Smokescreen. Do you know why nothing has ever been built out here?”

It did feel bad not to actually finish the race, but the fear in him won’t leave, and the slag that came to mind when he went that fast almost made it feel not worth it. But Megatron’s conversation is interesting, Smokescreen’s headlights blinking at him.

“Wait, why not? I just assumed no one really wanted to live all the way out here or something. What’s the real reason?” Smokescreen starts to drive again, slowly, very slowly, trying to get himself relaxed once again, driving towards Megatron.

It’s slow progress, but it’s still progress. Megatron is still smirking to himself, looking behind Smokescreen at the nearly three miles behind him.

“The ground is not as solid as it appears. Move over it and you may run, drive or even walk, but sit still for too long and you will begin to sink.” Megatron reaches Smokescreen, a little distance away from the endmark, and stops.

“Finish the drive. Don’t let me sink.”

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

They’re neck and neck, the end is in sight… and Smokescreen stops. Megatron shuts down his engines and transforms, skidding to a stop on his pedes just before the blast in the ground. His fans vent hard, cooling his core. Immediately he turns around and begins walking back towards the Autobot, speaking as he does.

“I would start moving again, Smokescreen. Do you know why nothing has ever been built out here?”

::Smokescreen. We are going for a drive. Meet me tonight at the edge of the Sea of Rust.::

ask-smokescreen:

mightymegatron:

ask-smokescreen‌:

mightymegatron‌:

ask-smokescreen:

::Wait, we? You’re gonna drive with me?::

Smokescreen has to sit down for a bit, trying to mentally prepare himself. It’s not like Megatron’s going to make him go at top speed, after all, right? Once he feels ready, he does head for the sea of rust, ready to meet up with Megatron.

His aim was to help Smokescreen drive again, but Megatron is angry at his own abilities, his unfamiliar frame not doing what he expects it to. So he taunts right back.

“You can go faster, can’t you?!” With a blast of his jets he turns his nose skyward, proving to the Autobot and to himself that he can still fly, and soon the car is a dot far below. Spinning as he adjusts, Megatron turns into a sharp dive to catch up.

Smokescreen starts to speed up, but starts to swerve about, the speed reminding him of less pleasant things. But he wasn’t about to let Megatron taunt him without a good comeback!
“Man, Megs, you fly almost as well as I do!” Smokescreen barely avoids driving off track, finally straightening up his driving to try to keep up.

‘Shaky but still going’ could describe both of them. Megatron’s stabilizers groaned as he sped towards the ground, but he still insisted on pulling up again at the last moment, coming to a leveling out only 20 ft from Smokescreen’s roof.

“Bah! I’ve seen freightliners that could outpace you! Shall I meet you at the finish line, or do you need the company?” He really couldn’t go much faster and maintain control, but he wasn’t about to tell Smokescreen that.

While Smokescreen does feel a bit of worry for Megatron, it’s not like he can ask. Not while he’s barely keeping himself from slamming his brakes. He’s finally managing a steady pace with Megatron here to follow him, but this was nothing compared to his speed before everything happened.

“I’m amazed you still have the energy to talk, Megaslow! You look like you’re going to crash and doze off any klik now! If I don’t take it easy on you, you’ll choke on my dust, and I’ll be called Starscream 2.”

“A perfect name, for someone below even to Starscream!” The longer he flew, the more of a handle he got on this frame, but the more fuel he burned. Unused to a new regulatory system, he was draining much more energy than he should have been. Even so, the second cannonblast was in sight. He could make it there at least!

“Not giving in, are you?!”