Here, we are titans
im taking a break from this blog

« What do you need, Smokescreen? »

You wanted me to contact you, so here it is.

To whom it may concern.

I used to be able to use many words to describe you. Noble, brave, kind, ect. But now there is only one word that comes to mind when I think of you, a word that I never thought I would utter to describe you.


You; are selfish.

All I heard out of your message was complaining-whining about how we weren’t there for you and how only Ratchet understood you; when the last time I checked Smokescreen and I along with a handful of other mecha dragged our happy afts to your universe to help take out your Megatron, when we had our own to come back to and deal with. If it weren’t for us, you probably would have ended up like the Optimus Megatron killed.

But you want to know what amazes me? How despite after all of this, Smokescreen still loves you. Smokescreen-the mech who was so distressed after the alternate died that he couldn’t even type out what he wanted to say, still loves you. Despite after knowing what happened, he still thinks you’re a hero, the greatest thing since slivered energon. Meanwhile I simply try to make by living my life with as much dignity as I could scrape together after fleeing my home universe, stuck in a deep depression to the point I can see no light at the end of the tunnel.

But I don’t want your pity, and I don’t want your apologies.

For the longest time we thought you-the closest thing to a father figure we had didn’t love us enough to stick it out with us to the very end, but instead went to go play house with Ratchet. Sure, we all had our own relationships as well, I’ll admit it; but none of us abandoned our universe to pursue them. 

But no, keep going on about how you’re the victim, how everyone should feel sorry for you. Poor Optimus; here, let me play you a sad song on the world smallest cyviolin. Is that what you wanted me to say? For me to just forget how we were defeated by Megatron and feel bad for you? If anything I envy you because you got to have the life we all wished we could have sooner; and you still have that life, while we’re all stuck licking our wounds; and now you expect for me to feel sorry for you? I don’t think so.

This is the last time I will speak to you in any way, shape, or form until further notice. Any attempt at contacting me from you will be discarded, and if it is in physical form, it will be burned. And if you still feel guilty after this, Just have Ratchet suck your spike until you feel better.

But before I end this message, I want to make one thing clear; I am not angry at you. Over time I realized that it takes too much energy to be angry; that war left me so numb that I don’t feel much of anything anymore. So no; I’m not mad at you anymore.

I’m done with you.


That was a little dramatic dont y' think?

Dark digits drummed an erratic pattern on the arm of the chair he sat in, cyan digits burning brightly.

"He moved."

                   “… Ditched us and left to another universe…”



                  “He didn’t care about us, I guess—”

All similar accounts had filtered across his DataNet stream since the video had been released by Megatron, and he had offered his piece to those who wanted to listen, but no one had asked.

A few, who then went quiet before he could speak.

"I left," he repeated with a uncharacteristically venomous tone. "I left?”

How badly he wanted to shout, to yell, to accuse every single bot that sang about his supposed abandonment for their own disappearance.

He was alive. He had been there. He had called to them when he accessed the DataNet how many Earth years ago now?! How he had tried to craft alliances, to find where his root universe was, but did any of them heed his call?


He was left alone, with a handful of mech who called him family, called him friend after he had crawled out of rubble and been pieced back together—-

A snarl cracked across his faceplate and he opened a communications frequency so it could play to all the feeds that followed him:

"I sought out a new life when none was left for me. I chose to assist a universe parallel to my own seek peace and freedom from a tyrant. Ratchet was there for me when none of you who claim me as your own. You were not.

"Is this my punishment for wishing to do as you all have and move on? I see the relationships bud and die and your fickle alliances forged only to crumble under stress. I am not blind. I am not daft.

"The irony of this Multiverse, this… Connection of mecha is that when I wish to do the same and I am labeled as defiant, as a coward! I read your words! Come say them at me yourself! Tell me what alliance you had to me when I needed you! What I have sacrificed and bled and lost keeping you alive and not under oppression of a mad-man who would have any mech wearing an Autobrand smelted!"

Grit dentae stopped his stream of words for a moment.

"Yes. I left my root universe to be with the one I call Conjux Endura. I left when no others let me know of their presence," he said with a little less of an edge. "Make no mistake I mourned the death of my Alternate, though he and I made our decisions with full understanding of what may come. You know nothing of this situation.

"You know nothing of me."

"Do not speak of abandonment when you do not know the true meaning of being alone."

And the transmission was ended.

Hello. I— You— … My apologies. Give me a klik.

« Easy. »

A klick was given.

[A ping from an unfamiliar frequency. Apparently he does have time to talk.]

« Speak freely, my friend. »

I would like be your friend. just this. Optmus Prime.

« You may be my friend, my ally, when I know a bit more about you, Tumblr user, fire-hair-girl. »

You should be the one to speak with them regardless. They know you, you're the one that developed the trust between your species, however tenuous. Sending someone else would put everyone on edge. Prime or not, you should be ambassador.

Thank you.

deliciouslylow replied to your post “Shouldn’t Elita go talk to the humans since you’re not Prime anymore?”

Optimus can continue to act as our representative so long as he would like the position. I believe humans call it an ambassador, correct?

They do.