#robotswriting

[minimus-ambus]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Megatron just wants to help. Minimus just wants to be selfish for once. They stumble around each other and somehow manage to realize some very important things.

A fic I wrote for the Minimegs server gift exchange!

[minimus-ambus]

Day 5: Battle/Talk! For today I decided to make some pixel art – and a matching perler, too! I’m pretty proud with how it turned out :)

[minimus-ambus]

Animal Behaviors – Beastformers Zine Preview!

Hey y’all, I wrote a fic for the @animaltfzine!!! It’s about the Maximals showing off their wilder sides, Rattrap being stubborn, and rats rats we are the rats celebratinyetanotherbirthdaybash

Go check the Zine out on gumroad!!! It’s got so much great work in it!

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Rattrap snickered. Dinobot, who’d developed an almost pavlovian response to the sound, glared down at him. “And what could it be that you find so humorous, vermin?”

Rattrap rolled his eyes, picking up a vibrant blue feather and spinning it in his fingers. “Didn’t know ya cared so much about your appearance, that’s all! Gotta look good when you’re monologuing about yourself to yourself?”

“Quiet, you mangy little rodent! I suppose you would prefer if I coated myself in filth like you,” Dinobot growled as the feathers along his spine stood on end.

“I clean myself all the time, I just don’t use my mouth for it-” he transformed and raised his arms, flashing a mocking smile as he said, “look, hands! Remember ’em?”

“That’s it!” Dinobot’s nostrils flared, flashing his claws and-

“Both of you, stop!” Optimus barked – literally barked, baring his fangs as he slammed a fist down between the two.

...They stopped.

[minimus-ambus]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Doop Week is here, and so is my first drabble!!! Go read it if you like Dinobot, Dinobot II, flower themes n symbolism, and Being Sad

Day 1: Flowers – Dinobot II doesn’t ask questions.

[minimus-ambus]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Doop Week continues!

Day 2: Past/Future – “Shh, shh, you’re alright.”

[minimus-ambus]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

New chapter, wahoo

Day 4: Trust/Betrayal – It sounded like an explosion that just kept going.

[minimus-ambus]

glittering blue

Commission for @seaquestions! Always love writin some soundmags UwU

In the Golden Age, Iacon glittered. It sparkled as it reflected the stars up above and shone blindingly bright under the full force of the sun, flawless in its facets like a diamond. 

This is how Magnus remembered it – Soundwave only remembered how it hurt his optics. 

But neither of their memories mattered anymore, did they? Iacon splintered like a gem cut by fumbling, foolhardy hands, and they still felt the slivers of glass deep in their frames. And even then, did they really want to recreate that Iacon? For all its glitter and light, at the end of the day a diamond is just a rock, and it is no good for breaking windows. Soundwave never wanted that. A million years ago, he had burned to break that glass city apart. 

Now, he noted with a bittersweet tinge as he walked alongside Ultra Magnus past crews in the midst of their construction work, messengers speeding by, and bots simply out on a stroll in the late evening, he was picking the fragments from his body and building something back up. 

“Soundwave?” 

Soundwave tilted his head up with an inquisitive “hm?” 

Magnus smiled at him – an expression that came to his face so easily and immediately that it made something sweeten inside him. “What do you think of the hospital plans? You probably got the report on this as well already, but I was wondering about your opinion on the disagreement.” 

Soundwave had to stop for a moment. Hospital plans? He thought he had read those, but last night had been a bit… busy. 

He had been trying to work though the mountains of memos and paperwork on his kitchen table when he had gotten a call from Cyclonus. He’d been able to guess the cause the second he had picked up and heard a crash in the background behind Cyclonus’s fretful tone. He hurried over to the small plaza to find Galvatron in a rage, lashing out blindly at anyone who dared stray too close to him. There were a few Autobots in the vicinity, and Soundwave was displeased to notice their hands on their weapons – it was a good thing he arrived when he did. He had leveled a sharp glare at those autobots, sighing internally in relief when they left shortly. 

Many bots had struggled to adjust to a life free of constant combat (and for that Soundwave could not blame them), but out of them all, Galvatron had it nearly the worst. He reacted at the drop of a coin, fluctuating between triumphant joy and paranoid fury, and whenever Soundwave saw him like this he cursed Unicron bitterly for twisting his mind into seeing any touch as a hostile one. Cyclonus had tried to explain what had triggered Galvatron’s panic, but Soundwave couldn’t quite remember it now through the sleep-deprived fog. He had simply reached out, slowly, gently, with his mind, and brushed against Galvatron’s. 

Galvatron jumped at the touch, but Soundwave didn’t say anything – he posed no orders or questions, but simply stayed, hovering there next to his consciousness, nonjudgemental, undemanding. 

It took an hour or two, but bit by bit, Galvatron had latched onto the cool, steady aura beside him and followed its example. He might have even followed it too well; as Cyclonus took his hand to lead him back to his room, his optics had begun to dim, and Soundwave had checked his internal chronometer to realize it was nearly morning and he wasn’t yet done with his paperwork. Needless to say, he hadn’t gotten much rest.

Now, he wracked his sleep-addled processor for some kind of detail about a hospital, but couldn’t come up with a thing. Sheepishly, he looked up at Magnus. “I… do not quite remember the terms of this disagreement. I apologize.” 

Magnus blinked, but his surprise at Soundwave being unprepared was quickly overtaken by an understanding smile (Soundwave felt his spark melt just a little more). “No need. I can go over it, if you would like?” After receiving a nod, he started talking in that adorably formal ‘meeting’ tone of his. “The crux of it is which building should be chosen to house the hospital. One location – I believe it may have been a hospital originally before the war – is located closer to the most populous section of the city, and has a good layout for our needs. However, there are some stability concerns about the structure, and it’s a bit smaller than we would have hoped for. The other option looks to have been an office – it has more open space, which is helpful considering the amount of patients they may have, but it’s farther away from the bulk of the population.”

Magnus waited for a response, cocking his head when none came. “...Soundwave?”

Soundwave, who hadn’t moved, flashed his visor once. “I am thinking.”

“Ah. Of course,” Magnus nodded promptly and looked back up. 

“...Primary concern is accessibility. First location would be the best option for this, and funds can be allocated towards stabilization. Internal walls could be knocked down to create larger space, which could be better managed alongside stabilization efforts.”

Magnus grinned – so openly and brightly it almost looked wrong on his face. “I agree completely. Would you mind if I noted your advice on my report?”

“Mm.”

Magnus paused. He then realized that Soundwave had started leaning on him some time in the last few minutes, and that his visor was quite dim. Lowering his voice as to not bother him, he said, “Er- Soundwave? Do you want to sit down somewhere?”

“Mmno, just need a moment,” Soundwave replied in a distinctly drowsy tone. 

Magnus huffed a soft sigh. “Alright. Take as long as you need.” 

Iacon didn’t glitter like he remembered. Most of the glass had blown out, the steel warped and blackened, the towers fallen down long ago. The sun had dipped below the horizon just far enough that the world had turned blue, and the half-repaired ruins cast long shadows over the streets. Standing there, Soundwave a warmth against his side, Magnus could see some lights glimmering on in a few windows, little glowing pockets in the great blue-black hollows of Iacon. It was gigantic, and cold, and lonely, and-

Ah. Soundwave was asleep. 

Magnus sighed, and gently roused him – just enough so they could both transform and let Soundwave sit inside his cabin of his alt mode as he slowly trundled home, the hum of his engine lulling him to sleep once more.

[minimus-ambus]

It almost hurts, to feel it. Dinobot doesn’t realize he’s crying until Optimus is wiping a tear from his cheek with his thumb. So faintly, he feels a swell of embarrassment at the back of his mind, but it barely has a moment to live before a rush of color envelops it, soothes it out of existence.

Dinobot chokes- his hand clutches Optimus’s where their fingers are interlaced. Optimus smiles up at him. He feels the color in his mind- smooth but firm, kind, so lovely and blue, blue, blue, blue....

More tears roll down his face, and beyond the blinding glow of their sparks together, he can see Optimus crying too. He murmurs something: “I know, I know.” Optimus reaches up, kisses him so gently he thinks he has never been this soft until now. Never allowed himself to be.

Optimus’s spark bleeds love into his. Dinobot bleeds back.