Transformers x Reader

Megatron x Reader

I will not say he was some kind of double-take.

A fierce warrior with the rest,

and some shriveling mess with me.

That was not the mech I knew.

He was harsh with me, and I with him.

The Autobots, they had taken me in. Broken, abandoned, I had no where else to go. I suppose there was a small sliver of loyalty.

Throughout the war, I stupidly held onto this thought that Megatron would notice my presence on this mud-ball of a planet.

It was only after his interactions with dark energon that we saw each other, optic to optic.

He was the same, and yet.... He was not.

His frame beaten, more rugged from the lasting years of war, his optics, purple in a drunken insanity, overpowered from the darkness.

Minutes earlier, I rushed through a ground bridge, ordered in to assist the team, normally avoiding Megatron, I would decline, but instead, I felt this pang in my spark.

I knew something would happen.

Something bad.

Pushing through the ground bridge my optics dart around, widening as they land on the raised saber of Megatron, backstruts facing me as he aims a death blow across the edge of the platform.

Servos flexing, he begins to bring it down, before the voice of Bumblebee causes him to turn around.

"You took my voice away from me Megatron.

You will never take anything, from anyone, again."

The next few moments had flashed by.

In one, Bumblebee lunging forward, large sword in servo.

The next, a sickening crunch,

A gasp.

The sound as Megatron, the tyrant, drops to his knee joints, faceplate holding a permanently surprised expression.

"No!"

I'll admit, after all these millennia, I have held feelings for him.

There was always that stupid urge to help him survive.

There always will.

Sprinting full speed, I push past Bumblebee, watching as Megatron's spark darkens, quickly followed by his optics.

Metal against metal, his limp servo remains curled where the sword was once impaled in his spark, as he slides off.

And falls.

All logic leaving my processor, memory files flash in my optics.

When we met, when we fought, when we laughed.

The void of his optics will never truly hold the same happiness they once had.

Feeling weightlessness, I orient myself, sprinting off of the platform, holding my servos to my side as I shut off my audio receptors, ignoring the pleas from above as I plummet down.

Reaching his dull frame, I lightly grip on, the sensation of falling only becoming stronger.

Placing a sharp servo on the side of his helm, I tilt it away, avoiding the blankness of the dark optics.

Pressing my helm against his chassis, I let out a vent.

Not exactly the fairytale ending I had wanted, but....

It will do.

Optics offlining, I feel as we begin to collect heat, our friction against the atmosphere creating a fierce heat.

Feeling my frame heat, warnings flash across my vision as I begin to overheat.

Ignoring it all, I let out a small smile, happy knowing that I will see my best friend, and my beloved in the Well of All Sparks.

Ignore.

Ignore the pain.

Ignore the facts that only further improve the fact of his lose of processor.

Ignore it, as long as you stay aware of yourself.

My frame crackles, denting and melting, unable to withstand anymore heat.

Feeling as we completely enter the atmosphere, my optics involuntarily twitch.

Shutting down.

An easy death.

Darkness overtakes me, continuing to feel a weak presence somewhere nearby.

Ignore it all, simply hold on.