VIATON

A mostly uneventful solar cycle, just some decepticons creeping around, playing with the three brats and lounging about the base.

And of course, the main event! Annoying Ratchet to no end— what could you do today? There were multiple ways to tick off the old bot, maybe you’d spike his energon with gasoline again, although the outcome wasn’t very grand or glorious.

”Yo, docbot got anything good for me?” Bumping into him clumsily, stealing a glance at whatever he was building— probably something nerdy if you had to guess.

It did end up being someone nerdy, just not something. The golden child of the troubling trio— Raf or something like that? He was a pipsqueak, square glasses and a weird human hairdo.

”Oh, Raffy what’cha doing over here little guy!” Moving to pat him on the head like usual, a familiar servos extended to block your way— pushing your own servos away.

”Don’t call me that and stop harrassing the humans.” Ratchet groaned. Pushing you away by the faceplate, servos warm against the metal of your face.

A cheeky smile pulling at your derma, you could only chuckle. Moving closer to practically hang over the older ’bot.

”Whaatt? Don’t trust me Ratty? Ya know, I’ve been with this mismatched group of bots for a long time now, that really hurts my spark.” The cheeky smile pulled into a pout, a faux tone of sadness filling your voice. He was distrustful, even Arcee was less guarded around you after so long! Although she wasn’t the one that had to fix any of your victims from your time as a ’con.

Oh the good days— spending your time tormenting any unfortunate bots to cross your path, you left a few a bit mangled. Which was a bit of an understatement— but you were a changed bot now, no hard feelings right? Well if only the medic had gotten the clue by now.

Ratchet was quite the hurtful mech, giving the cold shoulder when he could, stomping off when you came near, optics rolling when you spoke. The whole works and all.

”I don’t have time for you or your dawdling, weren’t you supposed to be patrolling with Bumblebee today?” He asked, offering a hand to the little human to place him back onto the floor. The both of you watched as Raf skittered off, probably to his little human friends.

”I was hurt so the Prime told me to come backfor some treatment!” That infamous pout returned, lifting a pede to show him the mangled metal that made up your leg armour. Watching the medic’s face fall from annoyance to mild worry.

”Primus, you’re some kind of trouble magnet aren’t you.” Ratchet muttered, motioning for you to sit on the medical berth— a diligent servos moving to guide you to it.

”Sure am doc! Gotta keep up my reputation.”

You weren’t exactly planning to slack off just because you joined the ”good side” now, the reputation you had upheld for the past three million years wasn’t just for nothing.

Whenever he gets drunk, he’s more grumpy than usual. Like a total bitch— insults everyone before passing out because the old coot decided to drink some more engex to add onto the multiple cubes he had already drunk.

Made multiple rings for Drift, none of them made the cut. ”Not good enough” or ”Too poorly made” were his reasons for throwing out multiple alloys, everything for his Conjux it seems.

In the end he just scrapped the whole idea, too stubborn to admit that Drift really wouldn’t have minded if it turned out less than perfect.

Speaking on stubborn, he’s just a stubborn old man. A bit prideful aswell (I mean I would too if I pulled Drift and looked like that)

You know how energon can be made into like different kinds of food, like candy and tea or stuff like that. He seems like the kind of guy to like soup, how would that work with energon though? Like just straight up energon with some chunks of energon jelly???

He does NOT polish his finish, like yeah Ratchet cleans himself and repaints his armour pretty frequently. But he refuses to polish, no shiny stuff for him it seems.

Pretty sensitive to smells, not like in the way that it’s too much or he smells stuff easily. But in the way that if it doesnt smell the way he likes, he’s gonna hate it.

Has tripped ontop of a minicon once or twice, denies it if anybody asks about it. But Rodimus swears on his spark he saw it happen

He’d outlive you, you knew it, he knew it.

As time moved forward, you had even come to accept it. Ignoring your mortality as you both learned and loved together— each day filled with something new.

Soundwave was a vault of knowledge, teaching you something every day, and as you grew older. You taught him in turn— showing the decepticon how to live life to the fullest.

His first attempt at baking was a disaster, servos clumsily maneuvering around as he mixed ingredient after ingredient. The end result wasn’t exactly the best thing you’d tasted, but for him— you could grit your teeth and smile. A tiny white lie never hurt anyone.

The first time you met him, you had been scared shitless. Running into the surrounding forest like a headless chicken, though most would do the same thing if presented with your situation.

The second time you kept your distance, drawing a line— figuratively and literally between the both of you. If he moved forward you’d move back.

The third time you became more open to the idea, even moving to sit beside him. Watching the minicons together in silence.

After that, everything seemed to move along smoothly.

And here you were in all your glory, carefully repainting your lover— with a skilled hand brushing over the smooth surface of Soundwave’s armour.

”You still awake big guy?” You asked, your gaze shifting to watch the cassettes in the garden. Surely up to no good, but you weren’t nearly young enough to try and stop them. You could only wonder if they were tearing up the peonies or plucking the trees from their roots.

”Affirmative.”

The robotic tone held a certain softness to it, one that not many would notice. But after spending 40 whole years with the ’con you learned to pick it up fairly well.

Wrenching a hand under his chin, you pushed it back to slip the airbrush into the tiniest nooks and cranies of his design. The bold blue stained more than just a few articles of clothing, Soundwave surely knew how to leave a mark.

”There we go, as handsome as the day I met you.”

Winking as the airbrush was stashed away, hidden in a cupboard like every other thing you owned.

”Soundwave: Blushing” With a sarcastic tone he’d pick you up by the shirt. Idly dangling you above him— gently placing you onto the couch. But even that was enough to irritate your body.

falling to your knees with a wobble, groaning as joints popped under the weight of your body. Growing old was a pain, hair grayed to the roots with bones as brittle as talc.

Not exactly in your prime, Soundwave didn’t seem to mind— he loved picking you up. Leaving you sitting on his shoulder as you two watched mind numbing reality tv shows for hours on end.

The days would end and the both of you’d end up in your own respective beds. Him in his recharge slab and you in your makeshift bed made of metals and probably stolen fabrics and pillows.

”Soundwave: Loves you.” He’d say it every night without fail, the lights dimming slowly. The world drifting into the silence of the dark night.

Soundwave is the type of guy to have a huge soft spot for animals, like you know those massive intimidating gym bros that look like they’ll snap your neck if you look at them wrong? Well most of them are huge softies for animals, he’s like one of those guys just take out the gym bro part

The buttons on his crotch (?) or are they like underwear, those are fully functional. One time Starscream bumped into him and he started playing Madonna on full volume during an ’important’ meeting ( meetings where Starscream and Megatron literally just bicker the whole time)

Has a blackmail folder, just keeps videos of decepticons messing up just incase. He’s kinda stalker-ish like that, in a freaky way

He is quite literally a father, he has multiple sons and daughters (?) look I’m not sure what the genders of all the casettes is, it’s like g1 rumble and frenzy but with gender

Is megatrons biggest d-rider, not even a headcannon it’s just canon he is basically on that thing 24/7 slobbering all over it at any second, you CANNOT get him off it

I’m eating ice cream

It was quiet— the silence stretched on and on. It was too silent for your liking, the usual bustling of the city gave a sense of security. Surrounded by your own kind, each person a part of one big thing.

Even if that thing was a 9 to 5 corporate job filing paperwork to no end, each piece of paper adding onto the stress of the world. Just one tiny brick in one big corrupt wall, your dad would always say.

”This world… it’s inhabitants.” Jesus his voice was deep, you could never really get used to it. Or the fact that he was a giant alien robot.

”It’s horrible isn’t it?” You could only chuckle, the grass under you was damp. It’d be a pain to wash those grass stains out of your pants later. Craining your neck to look at Optimus’s face, his eyes— they were beautiful. Blue and kind, could robots even have kind eyes? They were kind of humanoid weren’t they?

”No, this world is beautiful and so are it’s inhabitants.” You could only stare as a large hand moved infront of you. Offering a seat was he? What a gentleman. As gracefully as you could, you plopped yourself down onto the palm of his hand. Allowing the prime to lift you up higher.

But were humans really beautiful? Greedy beings, sucking away at the worlds life. Wasting everything until there was nothing less, soon even the land would be barren. Missing it’s usual flora. That was not beauty in your opinion.

Was that truly beautiful to him?

”Well what was your home like then? Surely it’s just as beautiful as earth.”

He held you steady, the both of you watching the sunrise. It was silent again, god— did robots have a god?

”Cybertron, it’s a distant memory by now. But no.. it was not as beautiful as Earth.”

A glum response, the mood seemed to darken.

So a bad topic then.

God you weren’t exactly good at comforting people, or robots. The only thing you really could do was place a hand on his finger, Optimus was warm. Were all of them this warm?

This was so awkward, could something just give you a way out already. You snappes out of it—being dragged out of your head by the rumbling of Optimus’s voice.

”Thank you for taking time to listen.” The primes voice was flat, if you listened closely you could hear it tremble just a little bit.

”That’s what friends are for, aren’t they?”

You could only offer a weak response. Almost tripping on your own feet as he settled you back onto the ground.

”Optimus, if you ever need to talk. Uh- you can just come to me, alright?”

Oh god you sounded just like a prepubescent teen, was it too late to just crawl into a hole in the ground? It felt cliche to say something like that out loud.

Stiffening as Optimus knelt down infront of you. One large finger pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, strangely gentle for someone so much bigger than yourself.

An odd rush of warmth found it’s way to your cheeks. He was sweet for an alien robot atleast, really sweet..

”Thank you for the offer, dear friend.”

”Oh, come on you big lummox!”

You chattered loudly, pulling along the much larger bot. Ultimately landing the two of you on top of a large hill, urging him to sit his aft down if he wanted to really enjoy the show.

”It’s not like I haven’t seen them before.” Rodimus gruffed out, face plate twitching as you climbed up to sit on his shoulder— his armour warm to the touch. Even if he wanted to act like he didn’t like it, the big idiot would still let you lounge about all over him.

”Don’t get your panties in a twist and just look, isn’t it magnificent?” A small digit pressed into his derma, the soft metal morphing under the touch.

”More earth slang? Where do you even get the—” The prime was silenced effectively by your shushing. Meteors cascading down the dark night sky— sprinkled with small stars. The darkness faded into something gorgeous. You’d have paid more attention if you weren’t so occupied with the bot under you— lingering glances turned into full on staring.

A sight most wouldn’t see on Cybertron. But you simply ignored it. Perhaps you had caught his breath, vents stalled as he turned to watch the sky wordlessly. Yes he had seen stars, but never a meteor shower. It was a beautiful thing— this world wasn’t as bad as you had first thought, even with the muddy ground and moist air.

It was gorgeous— vibrant and so full of life, perhaps this was what Optimus had meant back them.

”Beautiful, isn’t it?” Leaning on his helm, being a minicon wasn’t that bad. Being able to rest on others shoulders was nice, having them carry you around was even nicer. Made you feel like royalty.

”Not as beautiful as you.” Rodimus responded. Where in the name of Primus did he learn that from? You weren’t sure what you were expecting from him, especially after seeming so down lately. But it surely wasn’t a half-assed pickup line or was it a compliment?

”You’re such an idiot.” Snorting as he cracked a rare smile. Rodimus had been so glum, maybe even a bit pessimistic at times. He was still your Hot rod at the end of the day— even if the new prime denied it.

”You sure?” A confident smile played on your dermas. The thin metal twisting into a grin as Kup dragged out a few cubes of engex. Hidden in some counter, you didn’t pay it any mind. ”I won’t be taking responsibility if you get knocked out and lost in the streets.” Tone dripping with chagrin, a digit trailing along the edge of the counter. Smooth and cool under your touch.

Optics sticking to the older bot’s frame— well older by a few decavorns, but still older. You’d argue if any young ’bot crossed you. Did no one teach these youngsters to never ask a femme her age?

”Ain’t much younger than me.” He scoffed, cracking open one of the cubes and sliding it over to you. The pink liquid sloshed in it’s container, ultimately a few drops landing on your newly waxed finish. Squeaking as you grabbed the nearest piece of cloth, furiously rubbing it against frame. Effectively cleaning up any stray droplets of engex.

Your usual cocky demeanor coming back in waves. Taking a long sip, holding optic-contact like a challenge— which in all fairness, it was.

”I reckon you’ll end up crying in the streets way before me.” Kup chuckled, blue optics piercing right through you. Primus, when was the last time you two had just sat down and talked? Drinking and cracking jokes felt like a distant past, especially after the war.

You’d called yourselves star crossed lovers, more in an ironic way than anything else.

Sometimes you would ponder where it went wrong, but you already knew why. The reason worn proudly on your chassis. A permanent reminder of your commitment, a deep purple mark that was sure to last.

But here you two were, two old bots from opposing factions conversing together as if nothing had changed.

It was sweet— the engex you meant. Derma quirking up into a small grin, pale minty paint filled your optics. Kup told you stories, just like he had before. Telling you of the ’young’uns’ he was stuck mentoring, a servos intertwining with your own.

”I missed this..” Face plates burning up as you confessed, when had you drank so much? A few emptied cubes of engex stacked next to your helm. Resting it on the cool metal of the bar top, his and your digits clasped together tightly. Too scared to let go, to lose him again.