Fluster my muse: Though I no longer hold you in my arms, you remain evermore, written into my very code. I find myself changed for having touched you, for feeling your words wind ’round this fractured spark. Imagining knowing such change again drives me to frenzy, an addiction I am loathe to escape.

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

willnotgogently:

There is no way he can properly answer this, he’s smiling too much, bound up in the wonderful words. “I would very much like to kiss you. The sooner the better.”

“Please do.” He calls up a bridge, spark racing. It hurts far less than anger would.

Attrition briefly sees Rung on his rush out, smiling when he sees how happy the little orange bot looks.

Rung is still trying to get used to the bridges but the way he figures, the more he uses them, the better it will all get. There’s a flush on his cheeks and he takes out a cloth to buff himself, self conscious that he might not look good enough.

“Beloved?”

He was planning on using the bridge to visit Rung’s world, but out he came instead, nearly bumping into him. Megatron catches him wiping at his face and chuckles, kneeling down to put them at a more even level.

“Each time I see you, you’re as lovely as ever, Rung.” Supporting his back with a servo, Megatron leans into him, kissing fresly polished lips.

“As stately and poetic as a knight, as always.” Rung looks up at him with stars in his optics, pushing up to receive more kisses, the polishing cloth forgotten as it flutters to land on his pede. “Did Bee tell you that we’ve been making friends?”

There’s a soft snort from him, rolling his optics in amusement. Now that there wasn’t any danger, it felt much easier to laugh it off.

“We met a Predacon at the Pious Pools.”

Rung’s optics seem to sparkle, and whether it’s a trick of the glasses or his imagination, Megatron is enchanted all the same. He dips Rung nearly to the floor in another slow kiss before righting them both again with a content hum.

“Mm, he didn’t mention…” His dazed expression sharpens to a glare.

“The same Predacon that tried to eat him?”

Fluster my muse: Though I no longer hold you in my arms, you remain evermore, written into my very code. I find myself changed for having touched you, for feeling your words wind ’round this fractured spark. Imagining knowing such change again drives me to frenzy, an addiction I am loathe to escape.

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

willnotgogently:

There is no way he can properly answer this, he’s smiling too much, bound up in the wonderful words. “I would very much like to kiss you. The sooner the better.”

“Please do.” He calls up a bridge, spark racing. It hurts far less than anger would.

Attrition briefly sees Rung on his rush out, smiling when he sees how happy the little orange bot looks.

Rung is still trying to get used to the bridges but the way he figures, the more he uses them, the better it will all get. There’s a flush on his cheeks and he takes out a cloth to buff himself, self conscious that he might not look good enough.

“Beloved?”

He was planning on using the bridge to visit Rung’s world, but out he came instead, nearly bumping into him. Megatron catches him wiping at his face and chuckles, kneeling down to put them at a more even level.

“Each time I see you, you’re as lovely as ever, Rung.” Supporting his back with a servo, Megatron leans into him, kissing fresly polished lips.

Fluster my muse: Though I no longer hold you in my arms, you remain evermore, written into my very code. I find myself changed for having touched you, for feeling your words wind ’round this fractured spark. Imagining knowing such change again drives me to frenzy, an addiction I am loathe to escape.

willnotgogently:

There is no way he can properly answer this, he’s smiling too much, bound up in the wonderful words. “I would very much like to kiss you. The sooner the better.”

“Please do.” He calls up a bridge, spark racing. It hurts far less than anger would.

⚡️

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

willnotgogently:

Rung tensed as he heard the bang of boards against the side of the building, light illuminating everything before a loud snap resounded and all the power was cut off, leaving him with just biolights. His hands shook as he moved slowly to a cabinet, looking for something more to give him light.

“We should visit an organic world, like Earth sometime. Being in the rain is more pleasant when it isn’t melting through your plating.”

Ah, Sentinel. He really was a horrible product of the old regime in any universe, wasn’t he? At least Megatron knew for a fact that his was dead. After all, he’d been the one to relieve him of his helm… and of something else. Covering the reaching servo with his own, the warlord held it to his cheek, before turning his helm just enough to be able to kiss Rung’s palm.

“It may entertain you to learn this, then. Certain relics from the past could only be used by those who had held the Matrix. I needed a way to use them for myself… so I found Sentinel’s grave and his arm, for a time, became my own.” Megatron smiled just enough that his dental plates glinted in the dim light.

“He always saw people as tools. I thought it rather fitting to reduce him to one in the end.”

“I don’t find it entertaining, but I can’t say that he didn’t deserve it.” Rung pressed his helm to Megatron’s chassis.

Did he ever really forgive Sentinel? He wasn’t entirely certain, but it felt like a moot point since that horrible bot wasn’t around anymore. He couldn’t torment anyone now and that’s what was truly important.

“I just don’t understand how the Matrix could ever accept him. It was never meant for bots who could do the things that he did.” Rung spoke softly, shivering as he saw a flash of lightening from the corner of his optic. “Things got so twisted and it… it hurts to see what happened to it. What happened because of it.”

Megatron instinctively held Rung closer, optics narrowing as he scowled in the lamplight. “I never could understand it, myself. I used to justify it by thinking it was just an ancient power source, that it was the council who decided who would carry it next. …That would have made things so much simpler.” He tucked the smaller mech up under his chin, partly to further protect him from the storm and partly to hide his distant expression.

You’ve never been unworthy, Megatron. Not now and not ever…

“…I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Megatron arrives with poetry in- hand, looking down and away from Rung with a gentle smile. “… I believe certain promises were made to you Rung, on how I would be as a ‘Valentine.’ If your schedule allows, I would like to show my followthrough.”

willnotgogently:

There’s a brilliant smile from Rung and he moves over to Megatron, taking his free hand and kissing it softly. “I have time. Did you have a spot picked out for us to go to, or should I steal you away into the night?”

Perhaps he imagined the pleasant hum of static that formed wherever Rung touched him. He thoroughly enjoyed it, regardless. “You make an interesting proposition. I had planned on offering to take you to my ship, but I must admit that I’ve never been “stolen away” before.” His servo turned over, so that he could brush Rung’s cheek with his claws. “At least, not without some sort of restraints involved.”

If it was anyone else, his presence might go unnoticed. Bellator, however, was a vigilant god and the Useless One had no desire to startle him at all. Clear his throat, he tapped his finger against the crystal chalice he had been given as an offering a long while ago. Parts of the thick stem were chipped and discolored but the rim itself was safe to drink from. The real gift, however, was the thick energon inside that he offered up to Bellator. “Share a drink with me?”

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

mightymegatron:

The quiet ring of the chalice stirs the war god from his vigil, pulling his thoughts away from the turmoil within. An offering from a mortal was one thing, but from one of his fellow deities? Even sharing drink held significance. Bellator took the chalice in his blunted hand, drinking deep enough from it to leave the Useless One only his remaining half. A trickle of lifeblood ran from the gash in his jaw.

“You are generous, Useless One. You honor me.” He held the glass before his chest, and soon the energon swirled and popped with heat. Only then did he offer it back, paying the smaller god in kind with something of his own.

Bellator was keenly aware that the world of mortals was reaching a time of peace. His flame was not as bright as it had been just years before. It was cooling, but even without war, there would always be conflict. As the kind of battle would change, so too would he. He had accepted it; it was not the first time.

The Useless One never seemed to change, which was both a comfort and a worry. He had seen gods fade into obscurity, bereft of their power and sustenance as they were forgotten. Rung’s very nature lent itself to the obscure, and put him in even more danger. The mention of an acolyte brings a smile to the war god’s face. “You did not. It is good to hear that you yet gain followers, Rung. Was he a warrior?”

“Not a warrior, a cleaner.” Rung was cheerful as ever, happy to have this acolyte even if what they used to do wasn’t glamorous. The only thing that dampened that happiness was how he had gotten them. “Their name is Tonton. It… wasn’t a happy thing that brought them to my temple. Their frame was altered without their consent. But once I took them in, they started to heal. In spark at least. I was hoping that I might find the one who did it and find out why… try to -fix- things. But Tonton doesn’t desire revenge for what happened to them.”

“I see.”

There was no apathy or forgiveness in his domain; such things were his antithesis. It was no wonder then that this acolyte was unknown to him warrior or not, but he could feel the conflict in Rung’s voice. Looking down at their linked arms, Bellator could recall mortal pairs he’d observed, showing affection through such simple contact. His opposite servo closed over Rung’s.

“Even if vengeance is not your Tonton’s wish, it is clearly yours. I would love to be in your service again to bring pain to your enemies.”

If it was anyone else, his presence might go unnoticed. Bellator, however, was a vigilant god and the Useless One had no desire to startle him at all. Clear his throat, he tapped his finger against the crystal chalice he had been given as an offering a long while ago. Parts of the thick stem were chipped and discolored but the rim itself was safe to drink from. The real gift, however, was the thick energon inside that he offered up to Bellator. “Share a drink with me?”

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

mightymegatron:

The quiet ring of the chalice stirs the war god from his vigil, pulling his thoughts away from the turmoil within. An offering from a mortal was one thing, but from one of his fellow deities? Even sharing drink held significance. Bellator took the chalice in his blunted hand, drinking deep enough from it to leave the Useless One only his remaining half. A trickle of lifeblood ran from the gash in his jaw.

“You are generous, Useless One. You honor me.” He held the glass before his chest, and soon the energon swirled and popped with heat. Only then did he offer it back, paying the smaller god in kind with something of his own.

Bellator rumbled, considering Rung’s truth. “It was no small thing indeed, but neither was your offering. Few of our kind would extend such a gesture without expecting anything in return.” Out of respect, the tendrils of fire receded to a more concentrated point in the hollow of his chest, away from where they might graze his fellow.

“My temples are decrepit and long-forgotten, but my warriors carry me with them. They carve my glyphs into their plating, their weapons. They shed their energon on the ground for my blade to soak it up. I am always with them, alter or no.”

As long as those glyphs remain, Bellator will always be there and for that Rung is more relaxed. He wasn’t certain that the other god would still do well in a world where there were less battles now, he didn’t want to see him forgotten. As the Useless One it would be inevitable that he would be forgotten. He was a footnote in the eyes of the general population and he was used to that. Bellator deserved better than that.

“Then I suppose they can give offering to you no matter where they go, that’s good.” Rung smiled warmly and turned so he could slip his arm into Bellator’s own, giving it a light squeeze. “I have a new acolyte, did I tell you about them before..?”

Bellator was keenly aware that the world of mortals was reaching a time of peace. His flame was not as bright as it had been just years before. It was cooling, but even without war, there would always be conflict. As the kind of battle would change, so too would he. He had accepted it; it was not the first time.

The Useless One never seemed to change, which was both a comfort and a worry. He had seen gods fade into obscurity, bereft of their power and sustenance as they were forgotten. Rung’s very nature lent itself to the obscure, and put him in even more danger. The mention of an acolyte brings a smile to the war god’s face. “You did not. It is good to hear that you yet gain followers, Rung. Was he a warrior?”

If it was anyone else, his presence might go unnoticed. Bellator, however, was a vigilant god and the Useless One had no desire to startle him at all. Clear his throat, he tapped his finger against the crystal chalice he had been given as an offering a long while ago. Parts of the thick stem were chipped and discolored but the rim itself was safe to drink from. The real gift, however, was the thick energon inside that he offered up to Bellator. “Share a drink with me?”

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

The quiet ring of the chalice stirs the war god from his vigil, pulling his thoughts away from the turmoil within. An offering from a mortal was one thing, but from one of his fellow deities? Even sharing drink held significance. Bellator took the chalice in his blunted hand, drinking deep enough from it to leave the Useless One only his remaining half. A trickle of lifeblood ran from the gash in his jaw.

“You are generous, Useless One. You honor me.” He held the glass before his chest, and soon the energon swirled and popped with heat. Only then did he offer it back, paying the smaller god in kind with something of his own.

“Mmm… I’m fond of you, it makes me softer I suppose.” Rung shrugged a shoulder absently. His features lightened when he noticed what Bellator had done and he held the chalice in both hands to help soak up the heat that radiated from it. Curling it close to him, he drank the rest of it with a delighted shiver. “Hotter than I usually taste it. This is what you’re used to?”

Perhaps it was different because Bellator was used to energon that was spilled on the ground in the heat of battle? It might not be what he was used to, but the flavor was good.

“There is nothing soft about you, Rung.” The warrior smiled playfully, meaning it as a compliment. “But no. Only blessings I bestow to others are touched by my flame. I would be in dire straits indeed to do so for my own benefit. You shared your fuel, and I have nothing to give in return but the fire within me.”

“You phrase that like it’s some small thing to grant me in return and it’s not. The fire in you burns bright and hot, and it spreads like something wild when consumed like this.” Rung tucked the empty chalice away, stepping in and lightly resting a hand on Bellator’s chassis, careful not to come near the flame lest he be consumed by it. It was a heady thing to feel touched by that power and he hummed happily. “How fares your temples?”

Bellator rumbled, considering Rung’s truth. “It was no small thing indeed, but neither was your offering. Few of our kind would extend such a gesture without expecting anything in return.” Out of respect, the tendrils of fire receded to a more concentrated point in the hollow of his chest, away from where they might graze his fellow.

“My temples are decrepit and long-forgotten, but my warriors carry me with them. They carve my glyphs into their plating, their weapons. They shed their energon on the ground for my blade to soak it up. I am always with them, alter or no.”

If it was anyone else, his presence might go unnoticed. Bellator, however, was a vigilant god and the Useless One had no desire to startle him at all. Clear his throat, he tapped his finger against the crystal chalice he had been given as an offering a long while ago. Parts of the thick stem were chipped and discolored but the rim itself was safe to drink from. The real gift, however, was the thick energon inside that he offered up to Bellator. “Share a drink with me?”

willnotgogently:

mightymegatron:

The quiet ring of the chalice stirs the war god from his vigil, pulling his thoughts away from the turmoil within. An offering from a mortal was one thing, but from one of his fellow deities? Even sharing drink held significance. Bellator took the chalice in his blunted hand, drinking deep enough from it to leave the Useless One only his remaining half. A trickle of lifeblood ran from the gash in his jaw.

“You are generous, Useless One. You honor me.” He held the glass before his chest, and soon the energon swirled and popped with heat. Only then did he offer it back, paying the smaller god in kind with something of his own.

“Mmm… I’m fond of you, it makes me softer I suppose.” Rung shrugged a shoulder absently. His features lightened when he noticed what Bellator had done and he held the chalice in both hands to help soak up the heat that radiated from it. Curling it close to him, he drank the rest of it with a delighted shiver. “Hotter than I usually taste it. This is what you’re used to?”

Perhaps it was different because Bellator was used to energon that was spilled on the ground in the heat of battle? It might not be what he was used to, but the flavor was good.

“There is nothing soft about you, Rung.” The warrior smiled playfully, meaning it as a compliment. “But no. Only blessings I bestow to others are touched by my flame. I would be in dire straits indeed to do so for my own benefit. You shared your fuel, and I have nothing to give in return but the fire within me.”

If it was anyone else, his presence might go unnoticed. Bellator, however, was a vigilant god and the Useless One had no desire to startle him at all. Clear his throat, he tapped his finger against the crystal chalice he had been given as an offering a long while ago. Parts of the thick stem were chipped and discolored but the rim itself was safe to drink from. The real gift, however, was the thick energon inside that he offered up to Bellator. “Share a drink with me?”

The quiet ring of the chalice stirs the war god from his vigil, pulling his thoughts away from the turmoil within. An offering from a mortal was one thing, but from one of his fellow deities? Even sharing drink held significance. Bellator took the chalice in his blunted hand, drinking deep enough from it to leave the Useless One only his remaining half. A trickle of lifeblood ran from the gash in his jaw.

“You are generous, Useless One. You honor me.” He held the glass before his chest, and soon the energon swirled and popped with heat. Only then did he offer it back, paying the smaller god in kind with something of his own.