Yeah, he isn't exactly on board with the idea, but they shouldn't use that kind of words.
âListen to me Thundercracker, you need to make your own this time!â
Thundercracker gasped through his vents, even Skywarp was left speechless, before both their engines growled, angered with Starscream, his own? His own?! Maxima is his own metal and circuits made meat and blood, and he dares to say that?!
âWe don't have to if you don't feel ready yetâ. He should be the one asking you. Why has he done right in his life to have married you? For you to stand up to Starscream even when he knows you don't feel sociable around him, yet you counter back to his trinemate as he almost collapses back into anxiousness, because he is the one supposed to ask you, the one to stand up for you. Still, he doesn't even have it in him to ask you that or to try to go another way.
His spark couldn't take it.
There was, once, a time when the idea was something that made him giddy with excitement, a sparkling, he was almost dancing with happiness at the mere possibility once Starscream mentioned it for the first time, a sparkling! Thundercracker had never seen one on his own, if ever only slightly younger mechs in the academy, but never a newly emerged one, he was humming almost every day, dancing with Buster, holding onto her little paws with extreme care as he kept daydreaming with Maxima sleeping in her bassinet inside his cockpit.
A sparkling, a new addition to the clan! One that may look like you or him, a little seeker, someone he could teach to fly and land and write and read and watch! So many, many things to do! Maxima was yet to end up learning how to walk but he was already missing how she started to stand up, even if that was only a few weeks ago, he wanted to go back to it once again, feel that sweet and heavy crushing sensation in his spark as his baby tried to come into his open arms.
Thundercracker was so enamoured with the idea, that he totally passed over how you looked right back at Starscream at the other side of the screen, the mech was still giving Thundercracker all the nice precious details of the new beings.
Too good to be true.
âAnd they are tiny, really tiny cybertronians!â
âHow tiny?â, Thundercracker almost squealed, missing the feeling of Maxima sleeping in between his digits. Now, as a toddler she could sprawl on his whole palm, she was a big girl, but he did miss it.
âAs tiny as your old charge when you found itâ.
This time, Thundercracker did do a very high-pitched sound, letting go of Buster to see his baby girl, âYou heard that?â, he was all smiles, his slightly booming voice making Max blink at him, awakened by all the noise, âYou are going to be an older sister like Buster, Maxâ.
It was too good to be true, and you had already learned that Starscream only said the best of something if there was a hidden side, he always talked and whined about the bad things of a deal. So while Thundercracker was on his own calling Skywarp to give him the great news and possibilities, you called someone who could be direct yet sweet when giving devastating news.
It was not the first time, the last time this happened, Thundercracker almost accepted to make a real conjunx ritual with another seeker, because: âyouâre a fleshy, the bond he has with you will lead to nothingâ, oh but the guy had connections that could help Star, simply delightful, so no, if you were given this kind of attitude just after that incident it meant something was really, really wrong with this whole terraformer kids deal.
And god, you were right, and Bumblebee was very calm and taught you well about the whole matter, as he had a child of his own.
âUgh, of course he wouldâ, at that time, with the whole deal between the Lost Light incident and the whole recuperation of Earth as a colony, no one really knew much.
âIs it that bad?â, Bumblebee looked almost pained by the question, he wanted to say no, it wasn't, he had his precious daughter and tiny femme with him now, his clan, his family, felt fuller now more than in a very, very long time, but he couldn't forget the pain, the fear, the grip it had on his spark as he expected the worst to be said at any time.
Bumblebee sighed at the other side of the line, you could almost picture him dragging a servo over his faceplate, âI need you to sit downâ.
He told you, and you told Thundercracker after telling him to let Maxima stay in Busterâs room. And it was a good thing, because right after telling him, he transformed and went flying right back at Cybertron, where he tried to kill Starscream.
He didn't kill Starscream, because you called Skywarp to beg him to stop him, even when he went: âOh, he didn't, that piece of scrap metal!â
Skywarp ended up stopping it, but the problem was there: to have a terraformer sparkling, the human parent would have to be put in extreme danger to obtain it, with casualties already counted and expected more to come, the several complications, the incredible amount of side and long lasting effects after the ordeal, Bumblebeeâs own conjunx almost didn't make it, he was on the verge of feeling the bond drop and get stable over and over with dread so big he almost couldn't keep up, his conjunx hooked up to several machines to keep them alive while he had to care for their oldest as their new spark was being contained in a UCI chamber, they were aware of it, they were prepared for every turn anything could take.
And then there is Starscream, who wanted Thundercracker to take you to Trypticon and get the new spark by yourself, no medic present, no safety net, nothing.
They had a very long time of not talking after that, one of the many still to come, but Max wanted her uncles, so Thundercracker let them enter her life again.
It didn't stop Starscream.
âThink of the possibilities!â, Max was already sleeping in her bed, and he was so, so grateful the walls were soundproof with so much shouting, ânew seekers! We won't be the last anymore!â
âWhy don't you do it then?â, Skywarl asked back, showing more denta than necessary, he was done with all of this, watching Star use TC was one thing, but to use the carrier of the only offspring of their whole clan?
Starscream, true to himself, made a disgusted face and sound, âHe already has a human! The least he could do is be an acceptable conjunx and continue the humanâs line!â.
He knew your name, all this time he knew your name and he still called you human.
âGet outâŚâ, he had enough.
âYou dare-?â
âGET OUT!â
He isn't proud of finally crashing, nor of using his outlier, but it got the message clear, even when Max did cry this time, his coding bleeding at the mere sound of her pitiful wails, going quickly to her, because he can't do this, he can't go through what Bumblebee says might happen, he can't survive the several cases he sees everyday of a lone cybertronian getting undone when the news hit right after feeling the bond disappear; for their race there is no real word for a mech who has lost their conjunx, you humans call it âwidowsâ and it's one of the most horrible words he has ever heard; he raises Maxima with his servos out of the tiny bed as Buster whimpers by her misery, looking at her red face and fallen tears, what is he going to do if you try and then youâre gone? He is going to be alone, he will lose you, never to even see you in the All Spark, and will have to keep going for his girls and he doesn't think he can do it, what will happen if you do end up pulling a new spark out, is he going to be responsible for it? Without you? Will Starscream try to take them away from him?
Will he even be able to love that protoform, knowing that you died to take it out of the well?
Is he even going to handle it if the sparkling looks exactly like him and nothing like you? Or will he be utterly devastated if it is your exact copy?
What will be left for him?
âHeyâ, your soft words make his optics activate, when did he end up on the floor? He looks back again, at least, in his crisis, he put Maxima and Buster inside his cockpit, you reach for him in the deep silence, so his brothers may be gone, finally, his wings are finally calm, dropping with exhaustion, his cannon powers off, both servos cover his cockpit and he wants to cry, he is so drained.
ââŚHeyâŚâ, is all he says, all he can, feeling miserable all over by the mere idea, how could something so beautiful be so utterly terrifying? Yet, your hand caresses the armor of his leg struts, there is so much silence, yet he can feel the steady pulse of all of you, a way to stay sane, a sense that everyone is safe, his servo gets a hold of you, dragging you to his faceplate, closing his optics to be sure you don't see the static in them, his weakness, all he wants is to make sure youâre here, that you will never leave him, feel the warmth, the rhythm, your fingertips tracing above his dermas and ridge even when he can't see you, because it feels like he is failing you in some way, he wants to give you a new sparkling, he wants to make you a carrier again, because thatâs what a good conjunx does, perpetuate the lineage of their beloved, make it last for centuries to come and let it be passed down for generations, your bloodline ends with you, Max will make her own, and the answer is right there but he is a coward who won't take it.
âThunder-â
âI can'tâŚâ
He can't do it, but he wants more seekers back in the air, he wants his clan to be big and loud and happy again, he wants to satisfy his trine, he wants to make sure Maxima and Buster have someone to play with, he wants to share more of him with you.
But if it means that he could renounce you forever?
ââŚI don't want toâŚâ, Thundercracker finally laments, he doesn't want to let you go, he mourns as you try to hold him as you can, he howls in your arms and all that you can do is assure him, time and time again, that youâre okay with it, that he is a great husband and an even better father, he is doing more than enough and no one can say otherwise.
If only there was another way, the idea, the promise of a future, is just too good to be true, but if it means taking such heavy danger? He is fine like this.
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i miss ur writing,,, can i have smut ES soundwavee ? Ofc with a bit of angst if you want bcs thats ur style aughh. Was torn between ES and Cyberverse tho
Thanks for the ask! It coated me some, but I finally got it done with the right song, bc damn, it does go down with ES Soundwave and his while mess
Please have in mind that this is down right toxic relationship, violence, slight mention of smut, and could be considered to have bond-trapping (????) to some point
Masterlist
It was never going to be easy, he isn't one for fluffy, tender loving, at least, not now, or maybe never if you're the one involved, it is easier than not to find yourself on cold mattresses, in a hideout made by chance or nature, he is never there at the end, or just not when you are still awake, he doesn't stay but does leave marks over you to make you wait for him. It's strange, the grip he has, with time, put on you.
He was pretty, he is, there is no denying of such, but what you welcomed with open arms without a care in the world for what would come next, well, even when you still come over when he at least pins your phone with his cryptic messages, at first those were words, bring spare parts, catch some data for him by gossip, go fetch this and that, but his messages started to be written in cybertronian or something like that once you both fell in the same path of degeneration, desperation, and momentary bliss, you know no cybertronian glyph in existence, but maybe the most accurate transduction would be his actual location that needs decoding and takes you time to understand with what little you get of it in the internet, thanking silently to conspiracy involved blogs; more than once you arrived, late, painfully so, and Soundwave, under his mask, was most likely showing his denta at you if the growl he made lead you by any means before dragging you inside his new hideout and grope your body above your clothes, never showing his faceplate, but pulling you with controlled force by the hips to make you meet every one of his thrusts, desperately so that his armor was moving, chattering, hot to the touch, every time he took distance was a break that soon wanted his closeness back, making you twist and hold him back, reprimanded by a snarl and a painfully blissful press of his claws, dragging you down under him, tugging you with him, it was messy but you tried to cover it all up by how great it was, cover up the dirt, the rotten smell of the place, the tangled and dirty mattresses that gets worse everytime you come over and find him.
Because a mattress is better than being fucked over the floor.
Leverage it to clarify the parts of the messages that remain unclear to you.
Everything falls into a routine, takes time, takes incredible amounts of patience, and feigned ignorance when he presses his covered faceplate against your cheek right after it in what almost feels like loving tenderness, it is easier because you no longer try to reciprocate the gesture even when he cages you with his body until he has enough of pouring his misleading actions, your confusion has reached any limits possible, only accepting what is coming when you find him going on about his day as if he wasn't the one hurrying to interface with you in the first place, as if he wasn't the one trying to start physical and even intimate contact.
You come by late, Soundwave catches you, and he holds you or puts you where he can see you, sometimes, after he fucked you, he tends to stay holding your body to his if you feign sleep, he does strange sounds, like those of an old radio while it records, over and over, all night long if necessary, becoming a lull, and you end up sleeping for real.
You come by with what he wanted, those times, he hardly touches you, Soundwave works on something, not sure what, he just takes your backpack or whatever thing you have and goes to another place, leaving you out, watching Frenzy and Laserbeak drink their energon, tried too hard to ignore you standing there, it would almost feel comical, watching them squirm at the whole situation, but the awkwardness is too heavy, âsoâŚâ, Frenzy tries, she always does, âtools and sealant, am I right?â, she always fails, miserably, and Laserbeak smacks his own faceplate and beak with his wing.
You don't come by? Only once has that happened, and never to be again, Soundwave came, and he broke the ceiling of the building, only to see you there, eating, for once not getting his message because âbatteries die, even in the worst momentsâ, from which he had none mercy, he didn't frag you that day, but he didn't go out of his new hideout for two weeks, neither did you, until you smelled too much, when oil and dirt started to cling to your head like a vice, and when you just couldn't keep surviving on hard, uncooked ramen.
Police has been called too many times, much more since the day you returned like that, Soundwave hasn't done something similar since then, and now, somehow, he knows when your cellphone has battery at all times.
Itâs maddening, but the bliss of supposed normalcy is something that makes you consider and do a double view of your situation when, as only sick luck would do, someone helps you to stand up after a little accident, it isn't even something heavy or flirtatious, just a passerby, someone trying to help by collecting the screws out of the plastic container opened by the fall and the stray pieces of wood, but you feel it, you can almost see it.
Somehow, you already dread the sensation upon your shoulders. You aren't the only one, entering his last hideout because he hadn't changed it, there are no new messages to his new location, you only come here when that happens, and you dread the interaction even more when Frenzy and Laserbeak don't even want to to look at you or say a bad joke, not because they are mad or anything, more like they are seeing someone already dead, Ravage is the only one at least acknowledging what is happening or what is to come as all you can see of her is her tail dangling from a very high perch, very out of reach, but before you can ask while going near her you can hear it, you can hear him, and you can already imagine the mess to come because a working table comes flying from the now open door followed by a deranged war cry. Your expression of utter horror may be what makes the bird admit super fast: âWell, you see, we came by you-know-whoâ as if that is enough explanation, and maybe it is, it isn't the first time and it sure it isn't the last to come by, but there have been two other occasions before and it wasn't as bad as this one, âand we saw you with the other human soâ.
The other human, âWho?â they can't answer you, Frenzy screams like it is a slasher movie and maybe she is right, Soundwaveâs servo caught you faster than ever, âTake it easy!â their words almost caught up, and you almost end up blind by the sheer light of his visor above, growling, your backpack is hurting your body by how hard he is holding you, head spinning by the force of the assault, and you aren't sure if that crack that came is from something on your backpack or a rib finally giving up on you, again.
Aha, you think to yourself, it's another one of those times, it's your final thought before the oxygen is gone and you end up motionless on his still gripping servo.
He can't handle any idea of betrayal, be it you talking to someone, looking too much at someone, or just existing around other humans for far too long. He doesn't want to say why, in reality, he never says much, the cassettes, after the fourth time they had to dump you on a hospitalâs door, finally said something about it.
âHe has problemsâ, Laserbeak said.
âTrust problemsâ, Frenzy continued, but that's it.
That's their whole explanation.
âYou fragging him didn't make things easierâ
That was the whole explanation they gave you after Soundwave broke your arm in three different places, because they saw you talking with the neighbor, and Soundwave made them tell him.
Now, back again in the same hospital that accepts you mangled without explanation, with an âoopsâ for the ninth time, they want you to say who broke two ribs, they call the police again, domestic violence they call it.
He isn't even you boyfriend to call it that, but maybe they can add âyour hookupâ into the deal.
Worst yet? When these things happen there is no new message, nothing of him, and it is almost a catch of breath, you can wake at the hour you want, you can take more delivery works and so on, it's not much, but they help, the thing of not being tangled in a schedule problems.
Yet, it is always there, the pull, you know he is still there, still in the last place he almost killed you, again, because he acts like that and you don't understand, you don't get it, what is it? He doesn't call you back yet he stays in the last place you saw him, they could find him, find him, and the cassettes, and even the one he has locked in some kind of healing tube.
And you shouldn't.
Yet you can't.
And as clockwork, there is Soundwave, on his berth, curled as he could, looking directly at the wall, servos clenching and getting loose, spark almost silent, he should have killed you this time, end this for good, it's the same as any other time.
But, how is he going to do that? He should do it, because if youâre still out there, breathing, walking, living, then, there is a high chance you will replace him, if he kills you, then that's it, you won't betray him, never have the chance, he will be free, but then, he won't have you again, his spark slows, he shouldn't have, he shouldn't have bonded with you, it was a mistake, one stupidly done, he shouldn't have, yet you dragged him, you tried to have something, affection, warmth, what was it? He isn't sure, but you offered, you did, and he wanted some, at least something, anything, a nightmare of his own making, one that makes both dependent.
More like you only feel an ache, nothing but a distant pull, while he fights with his own deviancy, he wants to always have you here, always where he can feel you and see you. He hates you for this, why try to give? Why do you want him to give such to you when he has nothing of it? He has had enough of all this, if you dare to appear again, Soundwave will end you, that's it, his spark has been broken and damaged too many times already, one more won't kill him, he will end everything and that's final.
Yet, when the door to his berth opens and your form is shadowed by the lights outside, all words die on his glossa and his wounded spark can't even make him move, he can hear your slight wheezing, he can scan you and see the broken, healing bones slightly touching the lungs, a servo softly pushes you more into this cage of his making with a plethora of âIâm sorryâs before the door slams shut again, Soundwave can't even move, he wants to end you, his spark won't let him, he wants to tell you to go away yet all he gets out is a growl that lacks real danger, he sounds wounded.
He is, by his own hand, damned, and yet here you come anyway. It's the normal reaction of any cybertronian that can feel and see the damage they have done to their bonded.
A bond that can't feel what used to be affection directed toward him, even when you sigh, dragging yourself to his side, taking a place right where he can easily reach and end you, is that what you want, too? You want him to end this? You only lay there, exhausted, of him, of this thing you have to still learn from him, maybe believing that this hell is your own, not knowing what he did to you because he doesn't have the words to say anything but spill venom at anyone. So, all Soundwave can do, once again, is to collect the sound of your breathing, your heartbeat, the dying bond in between, and the slightly stronger pull of his spark with you in his reach.
If you end up gone for whatever reason, be it him, other humans, this government, or Megatron, at least he will have this for himself, and no one will take it away from him.
Happy Birthday to my amazing sibling Magz (and also the best Transformers artist out there)! Take this silly drawing of Blaster holding our ferret (lovingly named Swindle lmao)! <3 <3 <3
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Warning: implied abuse, manipulation and violence.
Ao3 link
Behave Like An Animal
Summary:
The Lost Light has had its fair share of multiversal travel but Megatron never expected to find a universe so strange. As Megatron learns more and more about this universe and its history, he begins bonding with a certain Autobot leader who wants to keep the former warlord as close as possible, even if said former warlord doesn't want it.
âI don't want to argue with you, Optimus.â
âThen we're not arguing. But as long as you breathe, I will oppose anything that causes you suffering."
(Bayverse Optimus Prime x IDW Megatron, Post Lost Light 25)
Long fic ahead.
This new universe was different from all the others. Of course that was expected, it was an alternate universe, but this universe truly was different from all others, there always were differences between universes, but there were always similarities as well.Â
Names, paint colours, alt modes. General body shapes and detailing. It rarely differed so drastically.Â
This universe however, seemed to be the wild variable that Perceptor and Brainstorm kept theorising about.
In every multiversal theory it was believed that one or more realities would be something known as a âmirrorverseâ the complete opposite version of one or more realities, they had yet to encounter a universe like that, but Megatron has a hunch that this universe was an opposite adjacent universe.
A universe so different enough that it might as well be opposite.
The first stark difference of their universes was the body and build of these Cybertronians.
Ratchet almost had a spark attack when he first saw the Autobots of this world. They were tall, unnaturally so. Plating almost constantly split open to reveal internal wires and pistons, they barely had armour and the armour that they did have collected around their more..intimate body parts curved flush against their protoforms.
From the perspective of the Lost Light crew they looked ânakedâ with their unnaturally curved and intricate dimensions.Â
Then came the language, and theirâŚquirks. The language had been a shock, of all the universes they had traveled, most had a language that was similar to Neocybex or galactic basic. This universe's language sounded more unique with growls and grunts integrated into the vocals. Thankfully these Autobots spoke English.Â
Out of all the changes from universe to universe humanity stayed the same, their languages, customs and cultures, all the same. The other âquirksâ these bots had were what shocked Megatron the most, these Cybertronians acted almost animalistic.
Growling and grunting at one another in a silent social balance, steam puffing out from their snouts.
Megatron even noticed a few of them hissing at one another when he and his companion left the remains of Cybertron. It had been strange seeing the skeletal remains of the planet connected to earth.Â
He lay down with his hands on his chest, resting over the red Autobot emblem boldly on display. Slowly, the former war lord zoned back in on what his new acquaintance was saying.Â
â-The Cybertronian race reigned supreme over the galaxy, only then it wasn't the galaxy, it was the Cybertronian empire. Once the civil war broke out the colonies revolted. Soon our race began to dwindle, Cybetronians were hunted everywhere.âÂ
There was a mournful pause. Megatron tried to imagine a galaxy like that, united under Cybertronian rule, it was a reality so similar to his former goal. Something mournful inside his spark urged him not to dwell on the idea too much.
âUntil I found a planet remote enough to have never been found. Earth. Our war traveled with us, but we fought it to the end. The humans did not trust us after the war was won. Then they too hunted us, aided by a bounty hunter named Lockdown.âÂ
Megatronâs fingers twitched. He remembered the bounty hunter in his universe, the one who he had hired to chase after Deadlock when he was still called Deadlock. The very same bounty hunter they fought on Luna 1 during the whole Tyrest situation.Â
âHe stole a ship from my crusader days, reformed it into his hunting vessel. He was sent by my creator.â The word was growled with so much malice it made Megatron pause, looking over at the red and blue mech who stared up at the stars.
â I killed Lockdown. Then I started hunting for my creator, and I found her.âÂ
Megatron didn't know if it was his curiosity or his naivety that made him open his intake and ask.Â
âWhat did you do?â
There was silence, and then-
âI killed herâŚwith the help of a friend"
The former warlord blinked. He didn't know why the words shocked him so much, perhaps it was because of the mech they were coming from. His eyes traced the detailed faceplate, committing every crease and seam to memory.
The silver faceplate has scratches and dents, but the most notable mark was a gruesome horizontal scar that cut through the Mechâs eye dragging down the whole length of his face. The gash has been wedded shut, but the welds hadn't been smoothed out.
No, this scar looked polished. Meant to stand out against the rest of the metal. A testament to all he had fought and survived.Â
The red and blue mech made a noise like a human clearing their throat, only deeper. âThe cybertonian empire would never remerge, the galaxy was too vast and I had too few troops to reclaim it. So, I stayed on earth with the remaining Autobots-and the Decepticons who were smart enough to swear loyalty to me.â
Something dreadful and sharp pinpricked through Megatronâs spark, a question nagging at his processor. He swallowed, uncertainty coiling in his fuel lines. He needed to ask, he needed to know, because if he didnât it would eat away at him.
âAnd your Megatron?âÂ
The mech finally turned away from the stars. Blue optics found red and Megatronâs spark shuddered. The Primeâs optics were a startling sapphire. It shocked him, not because of the glowing intensity of them, but because of the everlasting sadness that soaked into every crease and seam of the mech opposite him.Â
âMy Brother. In arms and in blood, although we did not share a Carrier. We shared everything else, upbringing, crusades, knighthood. Until he and The Fallen betrayed our family.â Something dark, ugly and twisted revealed itself in the Primeâs tone.. A shame that settled deep in Megatronâs core. Titles he has held his whole life rushing back to him, deceiver, traitor, killer. All so familiar and yet so distant.Â
Once, just once would he like to meet or hear of a version of himself that did not travel the road of tyranny.
âThe Fallen?â he asked, unfamiliar with the name.
The Prime returned his focus to the stars as if they held everything he ever wanted. âOne of the original Primes. Megatron had always been closer to him than he was to our Sire. They held a coup.âÂ
There was a bitterness in the Prime Megatron had never seen, a grief, not for others but for himself. That in itself was so peculiar. The Optimus of his universe would have shouldered this grief instead of voicing it.
Megatron shuffled, turning his whole body towards the large Prime. Until he was close enough to hear the crackle in Optimusâs voicebox.Â
âThey killed every other Prime in our family, apart from myself and our Sire, Sentinel Prime.â
âMegatron was convinced he couldâŚpersuad me to see his side of things. How cybertron would be better off without the Primacy, and how it should be theirs to rule. My Sire and I declined their offer. The war began, and then I lost Sentinel during an aerial firefight. Years later I found Sentinel on Earth's moon, but he betrayed me, killed one of my most loyal soldiers, and joined forces with Megatron and The Fallen.â
â...you killed them all didn't you?â Megatron wanted to punch himself after he said the words.
Optimus laughed humourlessly, sitting up on the cool grass, his armour gleaming in the moonlightÂ
âI did. And I don't regret it. I know who I am. I know what I am.â
âDo you?â Megatron asked softly.
He was met with silence and he took that as his cue to keep talking.
âBecause from what I can see, youâre no monster.âÂ
Anger pinched the mechâs face âAnd how would you know that? Weâve only spoken forâŚâ Optimus suddenly trailed off. How long had they been talking? A few hours? Had it been sunrise when they began? They must have been talking for hours but it felt like they knew each other for several lifetimes.Â
âI know you're not a monster, Optimus Prime. Because I am.â Megatronâs words were whispered. Confusion creased Optimusâs face and Megatron felt his spark start to hurt. He had hoped that he would ever have to speak about his past to his new companion.Â
âHave you gone through the data pack Ratchet gave you?â Megatron asked, remembering how the red and white medic had distributed the data packs like candy to this universe's Autobots. Megatron would never admit it, but it hurt. Seeing Cybertronians in a different universe react to the atrocities he had committed.Â
âYes.â The Prime said simply. Megatron's spark ached knowing that the mech across from him knew his crimes so intimately and yet, Optimus still decided to speak to Megatron. To grant him knowledge of this universe and its history.
âThen you are aware of the crimes I have committed. The lives I have taken and the pain I have caused.â Megatron commented looking intently into the Primeâs optics. Surely this Prime, who had gone through war and horrors could understand the guilt that followed every mention of the war.Â
âLet us be monsters.â the Prime said simply.Â
âWhat?â the former warlord whispered.Â
âLet us be monsters, we have both committed crimes, we have both killed, tortured and eviscerated others who stood in our way for a belief we curated. Either we sit here as hurt veterans, or we sit here as monsters.â
Megatron gaped. Red optics blown wide. The Primeâs lips twitch upwards, he found the Co-captians reaction cute.
âLet us be monsters.â Optimus repeated. Reaching out to touch Megatronâs servo. The servo inched just out of his reach.
âYou truly are different from my Optimus.â Megatron admitted, the words slipping out his intake. Silently he wondered-Â
Was this truly what redemption felt like? To lay in a field under the stars and speak after years of drowning in battle born of vengeance?Â
Something dark passed over the alternate Primeâs faceplate. But it quickly disappeared as his arm inched back. He hummed curiously tilting his helm in thought.Â
âThe Enforcer? The one named Orion pax?â
âYes that one.â Megatron confirmed laughing quietly, as if there could be any other Optimus in the universe, but now, he guessed there was. He tried to imagine the two meeting. Red and blue plating glinting together. The one he sat with would surely tower over the other, but it was a fascinating thought in his processor.
âI found it strange..that he had a name before.â Optimus muttered.Â
âHow so?â Megatron inquired, suddenly very intrigued.Â
âI have no other name. I have been and always will be Optimus Prime. It was the name I was onlined with and it is the name I will be offlined with.â Optimus explained, brushing his servo across the soft grass.Â
âYou were born a Prime?!â Megatron exclaimed.Â
âYes? Is that so strange?â Optimus asked, laughing softly at Megatron's reaction. The former warlord stuttered, heat flushing his faceplate.Â
âWell-i suppose not, but Optimus-my universe's Optimus only gained his name after he received the matrix of leadership.â
The red and blue mechs helm tilted. âHow peculiar, it seems that is one of the differences between our universes. Prime is a title in both our worlds, but in mine it is a royal title to be passed down generations to the next pureblooded ruler.â
Megatronâs brow creased together âIs that what is most important? The purity of your internal energon?â how would they compare pure energon to impure energon? What was the difference that separated them?
âYes, I mentioned before how me and the Megatron of my universe share a Sire but not a Carrier, my brother was baseborne, I emerged from my Sireâs Intended. Therefore i had a higher concentration of allspark energy within me, and my energon was âpurerââÂ
He considered the Primeâs words. He had read stories similar but they were all of human origin and were all works of fiction. But to hear it used practically was truly an experience. It sounded barbaric. But who was he to judge the traditions of another universe, especially after what he has done.Â
âWhat of the matrix? You said you wielded it?â Megatron clarified. Optimus nodded, pressing a servo to the center of his chest, tracing the divots and seams of his armour. He truly was a canvas of ingenuity.
Each part of him looked like it was crafted by careful hands and perfected by steady ones. The more Megatron looked the more he realized that the Prime before him was forged for his role. He was perfect in every way that mattered.Â
âI did. And I still do.â
Optimus opened his chest, plating the pieces separating seamlessly.
An object shot out, levitating above the Primes servo as it pulsed with blue light.
It was the matrix, the structure was different, the two triangular ends were drawn into points and were curled in opposite directions encasing a glowing orb in the center.Â
Megatron couldn't help but gasp as Optimus slid the floating matrix from one hand to another.Â
âWhat is its purpose in your universe? If not to choose the next Prime?â Megatron inquired leaning in closer to see the matrix. The skeletal structure was a sight to behold.Â
Optimus smiled slightly at Megatron's curiosity.Â
âThe Matrix has the ability to reanimate any Cybertronian that has been offlined because of energon deprivation. It also had the ability to activate the Star Harvesters.â
âStar Harvesters?"Â Megatron blurted, snapping his attention back to the Prime, who slipped the matrix back into his chassis.Â
âMachines used to transform the energy of suns into concentrated energon. That is why the Cybetronians from my world can partially fuel on sunrays.â Optimsu explained absently, gesturing to the more open parts of his armour that revealed his fuel lines. Fuel lines that fed off the sun.Â
âBecause it's just a weaker form of energonâŚâ Megatron muttered, holding his chin in consideration.
Once brainstorm and preceptor found out about this he had no doubt the duo would investigate the possibility extensively.
Perhaps they could create something that could allow the Lost Light to fuel on sun rays? It would certainly save fuel and supplies.Â
âExactly.â Optimus nodded. And Megatron shook his head absently, the information finally settling in.Â
âFacinating.â he whispered. Letting his hand fall from his chin. He looked up at the stars, each pulsing in the night sky.
With ever new universe they discovered the more they learned, both about themselves and about what truly creates an âalternate universeâ Megatron had never been much of a science enthusiast, but he appreciates the work and dedication the scientists aboard the Lost Light have for their creations and discoveries.Â
Optimusâs hand slowly rose to hold Megatron's chin.
The grass beside him shuffled.Â
âYour Optimus never truly appreciated you did he?âÂ
The question caught Megatron off guard, he spun. Freezing as he noticed how close Optimus had gotten. He stuttered, fumbling to lean back, but the Prime didnât relent. Instead a blue hand reached out and cupped the side of Megatronâs faceplate.
The touch was warm but firm.
âI read the historical records, you and he shared a bond, you spoke multiple times before the Decepticons formed. He mentioned liking your writing.â Optimus continued, one of his fingers brushing back and forth and it took everything in Megatron to not lean into the touch like a starved cybercat.Â
âI have read everything under your name.â Optimus confessed, pressing himself closer until their faceplates were an inch away. They filled each other's sights and neither wanted to look away for a moment.Â
âI have found a love for your writing, Megatron.â Optimus whispered, tilting his helm to the side and leaning closer. Megatron clamped a hand onto Optimus's shoulder, stopping the Prime, his eyes squeezing shut as his face burned in heat and shame.Â
âOptimus-â he choked. They couldnât do this, this was wrong. He shouldnât want this and he knew it.Â
âHush.â The unbearably soft command made Megatronâs entire frame slump. His eyes flickering open, and all he could see was Optimus.Â
This is wrong. Megatron silently repeated to himself.Â
This is wrong.
He shouldn't want what Optimus was giving him. He shouldn't ache for it like a starving sparkling.Â
âWould you write a poem for this moment? I think it could be quite beautiful, a lament about meeting a different version of your former enemy.â Optimus probed his optics never leaving Megatron.
The former warlord was drowning. Drowning in a million words he wished he could put it to paper. His spark was the loudest it had ever been since the start of his journey on the Lost Light.
It thrummed and throbbed, battering his processor over and over to stop calculating and just say it.Â
âI could write a thousand.â
âTruly?â Optimus leaned forward a teasing smile on his faceplate, a faceplate that had too many seams, too many rivets and details to describe in any piece of writing.Â
Megatron pressed closer, watching the glow from his optics douse The Primeâs faceplate in red.
âTruly.â he whispered, parting his lips, he wanted to say more, to explain what he would write in those poems, to confess that they wouldnât be laments, but confessions, sonnets and odes that said more than Megatron ever could.Â
The Prime suddenly seized the opportunity given, joining their lips together in a kiss.Â
The kiss was uncharacteristically soft for a kiss of two monsters.Â
-
Weeks passed and Megatron fell into a routine. Heâd wake at dawn, watch the sun rise over the hills and the broken cybertron now stuck to the side of Earth, then heâd write, and heâd write and write.
Sometimes Optimus would join him in the mornings, he wouldnât speak, he just watched Megatron.
A silent muse watching their beloved artist create in their image.Â
Megatron knew he should have never let himself get comfortable in this universe.
Their adventures across the multiverse had hardly started and Megatron knew they'd likely never end. Now his park ached as he tucked another datapad into his subspace. One of the many datapads he had stuffed with ballads and Elegies.Â
The hissing of a door told Megatron that Optimus had returned. He didn't need to wait long for his suspicions to be confirmed.Â
âYou should stay with me.âÂ
Megatron looked up from his packing, spotting the red and blue mech leaning against the doorway of their habsuite with his arms crossed over his chest and an angry but pleading look on his face.Â
âI overheard your crew speaking about leaving soon.â Optimus continued pushing off the doorframe, marching over to Megatron, quickly grasping the mechâs hands on his own.Â
âYou would be safe here, far away from your trial, far fromâŚ.everything.â Megatron didn't miss the pleading in Optimus's voice.
They had grown closer, closer than they should have. Memories of shared nights suddenly rose up in Megatron's mind and the sickness in his spark flared.Â
âI can't,â he whispered , shaking his head and slipping his hands out of Optimus's grip.Â
âYou can.â Optimus argued. Snatching his hands back. Megatron sighed, he should have expected this, but something small in his spark thought that maybe he should stay here, stay with Optimus and the other Cybertronians on this strange cybertron.Â
âI swore an oath of peace-â Megatron was cut off before she could get another word in.Â
âI would never make you fight, I only wish to keep you safe.â Optimus confessed pressing closer to his lover.Â
âBy fighting? I know how your leadership works. Only the strongest survive.â Megatron scoffed. It had been one of the many things that intrigued him about this universeâs Autobots.
Much like his Decepticons, the Autobots of this universe believed that the strongest should lead, thus duels and fights broke out constantly within their ranks, but Optimus always remained at the top.
Something about how the purity of his blood granted him power along with the presence of the matrix discouraged many from challenging him.Â
âYou are strong.â Optimus insisted.Â
âI will not fight.â Megatron groaned, his optics downcast. He hated speaking about his supposed strength. He knew he was strong, but hearing others speak about it especially in regards to his ability to harm and kill just made the Decepticon-turned-Autobot sick.Â
âThen I will fight for you.âÂ
Megatronâs helm snapped up, old rage boiling up.Â
âI am not yours to fight for.â
âArent you?â Optimus growled back. Megatron jolted, snapping out of his impulsive anger.Â
âOptimus-â Megatron began but Optimus did not stop, crowding closer to Megatron until he was pressed against the edge of the nearby berth. The presence of the mech in front of him made Megatron want to sink into the floor and never remerge.
He didnât just feel small, he felt weak.
âThey do not deserve your loyalty.â Optimus continued, keeping Megatron pinned.Â
âIt only took me weeks to realise you are miserable there, you have been with them for years, and yet they haven't noticed.â Optimus was angry. Megatron didn't know why, but it scared him.
To see a mech he cared for- a mech he loved, to be angry with him. But he couldnât give in, he couldnât betray his oath, and he couldnât betray his crew, because if he did then he didnât know what would become of him. He needed to make Optimus understand.
âI hurt them, you know I have hurt millions-â Megatron pressed, bringing a servo up and placing it gently on Oprimusâs chest, right above where the matrix of leadership was stored. He could feel the thumping of Optimusâs spark.Â
âYou are repenting.â Optimsu whispered, unwilling to give up any ground in their metaphorical battlefield.Â
âThat does not erase what I have done!â Megatron snapped, why did it hurt so much to argue with Optimus? A warm servo pressed against the one he held to the Primes chest. Megatron allowed himself to be pulled closer.Â
âYou have changed, for the better.â the words were whispered into his audial.
Something old and vile crept up his spinal strut. Some ancient feeling rushing up again, pride. He felt it like an old disillusioned friend.Â
âI-â
As soon as the syllable left his intake he was shoved back. Falling and hitting the berth on his back. He blinked and suddenly Optimus was on top of him, servos pinned on either side of his head. The Primeâs faceplate drawn into an angered sneer. Eyes blazing in a paralyzing sapphire.
âMy Megatron died, and I was the one to kill him! I watched his burning corpse fall through earth's atmosphere. I watched him die because he never admitted he was wrong. You have. The rage was animalistic. A combustion of anger and annoyance lashed out at Megatron and he flinched.Â
It was quiet for a nano-klick. Then Optimus whispered.Â
âDo you see me as a monster now?â there was something so soft in his voice that made Megatron melt. The tension that coiled in his body released like a gunshot.Â
âNo. You did what you had toâ Megatron didnât know if he was talking about the slaughter of his alternate self or the explosive reaction. The temporary pause didnât last long as Optimus sat up.Â
âAs did you.â
Megatron rose up from the berth slowly. His arms servo rising up to caress the Autobot brand that sat front and center on his chest.Â
âThat's not the sameâŚâ he whispered. For a moment he didnât even know if Optimus had heard him.Â
âIt is, in fact I'd argue that you had more of a reason to kill than I do.âÂ
Another buzzing silence filled the room, and Megatron was reminded why their debate started in the first place.Â
â...Iâd like to see your world more, but I will not stay indefinitely.âÂ
When Megatron looked up he could have sworn he saw a glint of a smile on the Primeâs face, but Optimusâs dull response betrayed nothing of his joy.Â
âOf course.â
-
A month passed and Megatron grew restless again. His crew had left and he was the only one who stayed. There had been an explosive fight between himself and Rodimus when he had told the co-captain that he was staying.
Rodimus had cursed and yelled at first before making Megatron pinky swear three times that he would return to the Lost Light.Â
It had been a month since that fight, and Megatronâs guilt had been steadily eating away at his core ever since. It felt similar to the start of his journey on the Lost Light when the war was fresh in his mind.
When he had been stripped raw of every weapon and defence he could ever muster. When Startscream had read him to filth at his court hearing.Â
âYou need to let. Me. Go. Backâ It was noon when Megatron made his plea, he had learned Optimus's schedule quickly, noting when the Prime was most agitated or calm after meetings.Â
âYou are not safe with them.â Optimus dismissed, waving a hand.Â
âNowhere is safe.â Megatron mumbled, annoyed.Â
That got the Primeâs attention.Â
âYou are safe here, with me.â He emphasized, fully towards Megatron and stalking closer to the grey mech.Â
âI do not feel safe.â Megatron whispered and he watched as everything about the Prime softened, a servo pinched Megatron's chin, slowly tilting his helm up.Â
âWhy? You have not fought anyone, none of my subjects will challenge you for your position. You have abided by your oath.â Optimsu asked slowly, his clawed fingers caressing Megatron's faceplate. Holding him softly, like he was something precious that would break at any moment.Â
âI abandoned them.â Megatron whispered, voice cracking. It strained his spark to admit it, but that's exactly what he did, didnât he? He abandoned his crew. Abandoned the few mechs that trusted him.
Optimusâs body went rigid. His hand drifted to his lover's back, pulling Megatron closer until they were pressed against each other. Optimus buried his helm in his lover's neck, muttering softly in his ear.Â
âYour crew never appreciated your leadership. They never appreciated you. They never cared. You said it yourself, they hate you.â
Megatron shivered, but the Prime didnât stop.Â
âBut I? I love you, Megatron. My subjects respect you as my consort. You can be who youâve always wanted to be here. You do not need them, you do not need to return to them. You owe them nothing.â
Megatron was silent. Processing the honeyed words, his hands were lax at his sides but he yearned to pull them up. To push Optimus away and demand to leave this universe. But then the Prime uttered the few words that could bring the great Megatron to his knees.Â
âStay here with me, my love.â
Megatronâs arms lifted, his servos carefully wrapping around Optimusâs curved shoulders.
They both stood there for a moment, caressing each other's frames so delicately. Just as Optimus wondered if Megatron would finally leave, the grey mech drew back. Teary red optics looked up at Optimus with two universes worth of love and longing.Â
â...Iâll stay.â
Optimus made a pleased purring sound as he nuzzled in closer to the grey mech, pressing quick kisses to Megatronâs neck.Â
-
The doors to Optimusâs throne room slammed open. The loud clap jolted every guard to attention.
Megatron stormed in, eyes blazing. The red gaze snapping towards the regal red and blue mech who sat on the throne in the center of the room. Megatron's heavy breathing filled the room, the guardian knights glanced from the angry mech to their ruler, awaiting orders.
Optimus flicked his wrist, a sharp and silent dismissal. Plating shuffled and suddenly the only mechs left in the room were Optimus and Megatron.Â
âWhy are my crew in the brig!?â Megatron yelled, as soon as the door clicked shut. His engine rumbled, revving louder and louder the longer Optimus kept silent.Â
âYour âcrewâ tried to kidnap you.â The calm response made Megatronâs mood simmer down, he still burned with anger, but the fire that blazed in his spark stuttered a bit.Â
âKnowing them, they just wanted to talk.â he snapped at the Prime, crossing his arms over his chest. Hound had been the one to tell Megatron about his crew's uninvited visit and their quick imprisonment.
Hound was a brash and abrasive mech, armed to the teeth with munitions and every kind of weapon ever distributed, Hound had also been one of the first alternate Autobots to accept him into their ranks.Â
âIf they wished to speak with you then they should have called, instead of breaking into my palace.â Optimusâs words were unnervingly calm and that didnât settle the rage boiling in his fuel lines.Â
âThey didn't intend to cause any harm.â he pressed, he knew his crew, even if they were incredibly foolish at times they would never intentionally cause harm to another sentient being.Â
âThey intended to take you away!â Optimus snapped his voice echoing across the throne room, he rose up from his throne and marched over to Megatron. The grey mech shrunk in on himself.
There were a few times where he noticed how other mechs acted when Optimus was around, they treated him with respect, bowing their helms and offering kind words. Optimus was an intimidating mech, but Megatron had never felt intimidated by him, until now.Â
âI wouldnât have let them.â Megatron whispered, the words tasting sour.
Would he have? Or would he have leapt into Rodimus and Magnus's arms the moment he saw them?
Optimus raised an optical ridge.
âReally? Because I can see that you still feel guilt over not attending your trial.â he pressed closer, glowering over Megatron, their breaths mingling together.Â
âI wouldnât let them execute me.â Megatron insisted, pressing his hand to the center of Optimus's broad chest, nudging the mech back and inch. Looking up at his lover's faceplate he saw just how sad Optimus's optics were.Â
âBut you would let them imprison you.â
He sighed.Â
âThat is differentâŚâ
âBut you suffer either way.âÂ
Megatron finally broke away from Optimus, arms crossing over his chest.Â
âI don't want to argue with you, Optimus.â he pleaded watching the red and blue mech pause. Something lodges itself in Megatronâs throat, fear or uncertainty, he could no longer tell which was which.Â
âThen we're not arguing. But as long as you breathe, I will oppose anything that causes you suffering." the rebuttal stung, and Megatron let himself be swept up into Optimus's arms again.Â
âLet my crew go.â he whispered one last time, he didnât go with them last time and he wouldnât this time. He would stay, willingly. He knew that and clearly Optimus knew that too, telling by the pleased rev of his engine. He would never leave the Primes side, but would his crimes continue to chase him? Probably.Â
âVery well, but they will be warned, if they return they will be killed.â
Megatron jerked in Optimus's grasp, but the Prime's grip held true.Â
âYou do not need-â he stuttered, he knew the Lost light crew were stubborn, but the Optimus of his universe-everyone on cybertron everyone he ever hurt, they would always demand justice.
He would always be hiding from them, from his actions and hiding from his own consciousness.Â
"I do not regret becoming strong enough that no one can ever take what is mine again." Optimus purred, stroking the back of Megatron's helm.Â
âYou need not feel guilt over the same thing.â He continued. Megatron snapped, he couldnât do this anymore. He couldnât stand Optimusâs dismissals anymore.Â
âOptimus.. I am a criminal, your interference will only make you and your people a target. I won't be complicit in hurting anyone else.âÂ
âYou won't be. Optimus stressed.Â
ââI will be insteadâ went unsaid between themÂ
âYou can't know that-â he was sharply cut off before he could utter another word.Â
âI do! Because even if my alternate self comes for you with an army at his back I will not stop fighting, not until they are all dead. I will keep you safe, Megatron. They will never harm you again. I will never make you raise a servo.â
Megatron opened his intake to argue back. To explain himself further, he needed Optimus to know that he has treasured every shared moment they had, that the memory of this universe and the memory of him, would always make Megatron spark swell with love.
The guilt had been slowly eating away at him, day after day. He didn't want to go back but he needed to. For justice and for his own sanity.
Lest he lose himself in Optimus's arms. He needed to go back so he could be tried and so that this universe wouldn't have to go through any hardship because of him.Â
Thick claws pierced his neck cabling.Â
Energon swelled, hot and gushing. He choked, coughing around the sickeningly familiar liquid. The pink liquid splattered against Optimusâs red and blue plating.Â
âOptimus?â Megatron wheezed, vocoder crackling unnaturally and the Primeâs grip tightened.Â
âIâm starting to grow tired of arguing with you, my love.âÂ
Dread coiled around the Megatron spark as he blinked, his intake moving uselessly. His limbs suddenly felt so heavy, so helpless.Â
A crackle of static escaped him and the claws sank in deeper. He wasn't just choking on the energon he was swallowing it in gulps.Â
âLet's not speak of this anymore.âÂ
The hand in his throat turned into a fist. Clamped around his voicebox. He tried to thrash, to fight against the immovable force. But his limbs didnât rise to the call. They dangled at his side, useless.Â
Then the hand pulled, then ripped.Â
Megatron wanted to scream but the noise never came out, He flailed uselessly against the Primeâs grip. Optimus looked down at his hand and Megatron followed his gaze.Â
Looking at the energon soaked hands, his voicebox squeezed between the Primeâs fingers.Â
He was let go and Megatron crashed to the floor in a bloody puddle. Numb hands reached up to feel the gaping hole in his throat. He felt the created edges of wire and metal but he couldn't take his eyes away from the energon.Â
He watched the energon-his energon splatter and pour onto the smooth floor. He coughed, and the pink puddle grew into a sea.Â
Megatron heard the sound of metal rattling and realised he was shaking. Something other than engeron dripped down his faceplate and Megatron realised he was crying. No, he wasn't crying, he was sobbing. His body wracked with frantic silent grief.Â
the weight of a broad chest pressed at his back, he didn't need to look up to know it was Optimus. Cold, wet hands slithered across his shoulders, clawed tips tracing his transformation seams . Megatron froze under the touch.Â
It was soft.Â
Megatron wanted nothing more than to lean into it to be consumed by it.
He opened his mouth, and nothing but energon came out.Â
âHm, Iâll have crosshairs look at you. But we don't need to rush.â Optimus purred and Megatron wished he could gag in revulsion.Â
He tried to speak again. To express exactly how he was feeling to the Prime- the lover, he had devoted himself to.Â
âI rather like you, like this.âÂ
The hands rose to his neck once more, and Megatron wished heâd never laid on that field under the stars.Â
