killingyousoftlywithhissong

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

Deathsaurus: Tarn, I know you’re eager, but can we please do this somewhere else?

Tarn: Sure, but why?

Deathsaurus: I feel like I’m being watched… 

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

“Aww c’moooon! Dun’ be like’at sweetspaaark!” Tarn slurred, more than a few drinks in and well and truly sloshed. 

Yank!

Send “Yank!” For My Muse’s reaction to being pulled over into Your Muse’s lap.. 

“H-hey! What’s the big idea!”

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

unusual-trine-mates

Grimlock was confused, “I have no idea what your talking about.”

“You forgot his straw Big sire!” Sky snickered as he hopped down from his seat and feched a few for Yarn to pick from.

“Is… Is that what you ment?” Grimlock asked, handing the pad of poems to Dawn, “Or is it the poems? Because if I am truthful here, I rather the bits read Megatron’s works that what we Autobots have to. Have you ever read the Autobot code? It’s boring as the pit!”

He shook his helm, “He’s good with words, I’ll give him that. But it will not change that I chose to be an Autobot.

Tarn was absolutely affronted that a mech, Grimlock no less, had read Megatron’s first works, openly admired them, shared them with his offspring, and still insisted on following the mockery that was the Autobot cause. His engine revved a snarl; he couldn’t slaughter the dinobot in front of the younglings, and he refused to murder such young processors. 

Well, that didn’t mean he had to sit here and put up with this insulting display. 

Snatching his cube of energon off the table, he snarled at the offering of straws and stocked from the room. He would tell them where he was headed - if he knew where he was going or if he could fragging talk! 

Shut Up and Listen

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

send me »◙« + a character name and my muse will say the first three words that come to mind when hearing that name

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

unusual-trine-mates said: This face…I like it. Do not let Voss near it 

mighty-megatron said: ((I think you mean the CUTE behind the mask <3)) 

((asdfghjkhgfdsa I’m going to smooch you both!! /)/////////(\ Or-or I’ll sic Tes and Helex on you for hugs! 

I’m gonna get you back for this Kylie 

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

The face under the mask

((Happy munday everyone! To celebrate, I figured I would post a selfie from the sunny spring weather we’ve been having this past week so y’all could get to know Tarny-mun a little better <3 

My face, under the break~ 

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

hey hi everyone have a fanmix for tarn

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

unusual-trine-mates

“Sky, leave the grumpy tank be,” Grimlock said as he came back with the cubes of energon. “Dawn, what do you have there?”

“Toward Peace,” the dinobit said,“I still don’t see where the ‘peace though tyranny’ parts come in.”

“I don’t think you will. Megatron wrote that before he started his revolution. And tyranny wasn’t part of it the really.”

“Oh. Well that makes more sense then,” Westdawn said,“ Can you get me Mr. Megatron’s poems then?”

“Sure thing bitlet,” Grimlock said as he sipped on his cube and went to the shelf.

The tank’s engine revved in shock as his helm whipped back around to stare at the youngling. Did he just say- No, that couldn’t possibly be correct. What was Grimlock, of all mechs, doing providing his offspring with Lord Megatron’s earliest works!? That writing should not be in the hands of a once fearsome Autobot commander.  

Scribbling across the data pad, hidden lips curled in a sneer, Tarn held the screen up for the other adult to read. 

I don’t know what you are trying to get away with here, but it won’t win you an mercy from me. 

His energon sat unacknowledged on the table before him; it wasn’t like he could easily drink it without a straw anyway. 

Shut Up and Listen

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

unusual-trine-mates

Grimlock saw Tarn’s optics widen a bit at the sight of Skyfall, “Yes we have three of the little bitlets. And a fourth back home with the others. This one is Skyfall.”

“Hey big Sire, is that the mean mech who tried to kill little Sire?” the jetling asked, glaring at the tank.

“Yeah,” Grimlock vented, “But he’s going to play nice now while we find his friends.”

“Okay!”

They entered the Rec room and Grimlock motioned Tarn to sit across from another sparkling, this one a red and black dinobot with a face much to similar to the Stunticon Dead End, “Skyfall, go sit with your sister. I’ll get the energon.” He set the sparkling down and turned to the dispenser.

“Do you like poems Mr. Tarn?” Skyfall asked.

Tarn couldn’t help but slowly shake his helm. Unbelievable. Not only did these mechs have a death wish, but they were willing to risk the lives of their young as well. It was fortunate for all of those on board that Tarn, and the DJD in general, were not in the business of murdering sparklings. The adolescence of their species should not be punished for the mistakes of the generation before them. If they followed in their genitors’ traitorous paths when they were old enough to understand such choices, however, well, Tarn could not be held accountable for his actions then. 

As it stood, without his fusion canons, voice, or way of contacting his team, he outnumbered and at a disadvantage. Complacent for the time being, he sat his aching, healing frame on a couch surprisingly large enough to accommodate his mass. He glared at the mechling across from him with not a small amount of disgust. Even Soundwave’s own creations hadn’t been able to kindle any affection from the tank; he found any youngling no more than an irritating and repulsive runt. Opting to remain silent - though that wasn’t much of a choice - Tarn ignored the youngling in favour of looking about the room, orientating himself with the layout of the ship so he could enact his revenge and escape at a later date. 

Shut Up and Listen

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

unusual-trine-mates

“You demand?” Grimlock asked, “Well to bad. You don’t get to know.”

“Gimme that,” Spin said as he took the other’s servo, making a small tweek to correct the joint, “This wouldn’t happen if you didn’t transform every other step… gezz, Nickle was right. By the way, I haven’t replaced that T-cog. I aint gonna waist ‘em on slag like that.”

“Has she called?” Grimlock asked offhandedly.

“Nope, not her’s either.”

“Alright then,” Grimlock said as he pushed Tarn in front of him, “Walk. And don’t even think of using the sparklings against us. Or you will find your fusion canons going in places they don’t belong.”

As they walked, a little mecha ran under Tarns legs to be picked up by Grimlock.

“Keep walking,” Grim said as he held the magenta and cream jetling in his servos.

The Dinobot would be the first to die when his team arrived to pick him up, Tarn decided. Despite the mask covering his face, the sneer his lips curled into was easily broadcast. 

Accustomed to the DJD’s own little medic jerking them about, the singer was unphased to have Spinister’s hands suddenly upon him. This one would be second. Perhaps he could slaughter the entire crew, and force their captain to watch... Yes.. That sounded delectable! 

Jerking his hand back to his chassis as soon as the tune up was complete, and starkly refusing to acknowledge any thanks, Tarn stumbled as Grimlock suddenly yanked him to his feet and shoved him towards the door. His engine revved sharply. Would they stop mech-handling him around like this!? He did as was directed, however, walking down the hall. His optics widened as a winged youngling dashed into Grimlock’s arms. Sparklings?? They brought the leader of the DJD onboard a ship with sparklings!? 

Shut Up and Listen

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

unusual-trine-mates

Grimlock stepped forward when it seemed Tarn would fall forward, “Easy there. I rather not know what’s under the mask.”

“It’s a face,” Spinister said as he checked some of the more serious welds.

“I know it’s a face,” Grimlock huffed, “But I don’t need to see it. Nor have to hold him down so you can clean it if he tries to choke on his own purged energon.”

“Well his welds are holding just fine, and the pain should keep him from trying to open them… You know maybe I should call Flywheels. Could be his?”

“No, don’t think so,” Grimlock said as he held out a servo to let Tarn lean on him if he needed, “He would have called us if it were the case. Now come on Tarn, You’ll feel better once your fueled.”

‘Wait wait wait!” Spinister said quickly as he rushed about,” Dang it B- Where the Pit is- Ah ha! Here Tarn, a blank data pad.” He handed the device to the killer with a hidden smile.

Forcing himself to remain upright, despite his traitorous frame’s desire to lay back down, Tarn only just withheld a flinch of shock as Grimlock spoke. Last time he had come across the Dinobot - coincidentally the same time he had seen the rest of this motley crew - the fearsome Autobot commander had been reduced to the near equivalent of a drone. Pity Tarn hadn’t been able to extinguish him then. 

He smacked away the servo with a glare - internally denying that if it had come from Helex or Tesarus he would have gratefully accepted it. Just because he was injured and captured, did not mean he required any misplaced pity from his captors. Now wasn’t that a strange thought: the great and mighty Tarn, a prisoner of the very mechs he had once hunted. Vos would be cackling at the irony. 

Presented with the datapad, Tarn wielded the stylus with his left hand, feeling his wrist hitch as he rotated the joint. The medic had mentioned something about needing to repair it, hadn’t he? Ignoring the mildly annoying pain, the singer scrawled a message in an elegant cursive one would not associate with a mass murderer. I will NOT be removing my mask for the likes of you. I demand to know where we are, and where I am being taken. Now.  

Shut Up and Listen

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

unusual-trine-mates

“Hey hey now,” Spin said as he looked at Tarn’s vitals, “You damage your voice anymore and I might not actually be able to fix it.”

“Everything looking okay there Spinister?” krok asked.

“He’s okay,” Spin confirmed, “I’m not so sure how the welds will hold when he’s mobile, but I suppose I’ll find out later.”

“Good, now Tarn,” Krok addressed, “You are currently on our ship, and we’ve repaired most of you. We will repair all of you and find your crew when we know you will not kill us. If we can’t trust you then you will be strapped to this berth and sent hurtling down to the next planet we pass by. Sound like a good deal? Good. Spinister will release you from the binds and Grimlock will escort you down to the rec room for you too fuel. Crankcase.”

The two got up and left, Grimlock coming in and crossing his arms.

“Alright then,” Spin said, “Not hitting, it’s not a good example for the bitlets… I’ll give you a blank data pad for you to write on. I need to see if the new servo is integrating alright anyway… There, you’re free.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

Tarn settled back against the berth of his own accord; not because he was complying with anything this run-down rotary had to say. Doctor or not, it took one with Nickel’s spunk to bring the DJD leader to heel for medical purposes. 

His glare shifted as the monoformer spoke up - Krok, was it? He barely suppressed a scoff at the captain’s attempts at threatening him, though that may have been due largely to the fact that his vocalizer was offline, if not entirely removed. However pitiful these mechs were, Tarn was forced to admit he had no choice but to comply with them for the time being. Until he took stock of the state of his frame, and where he was, the tank would..eeugh..play nice with the Listed mechs. Primus damnit; this had better not be viewed as treasonous to an outsider. 

When Grimlock stepped into the room, Tarn’s armour flared aggressively before he forced it to lay flat again. No. No provoking until he was on his pedes. Laying still as he was unbound, the tank slowly pushed himself upright, suppressing the urge to be sick as his equilibrium spun; purging would be a sign of weakness, and besides, he would have to remove his mask in order to do so - that was out of the question. As he swung his legs over the edge of the berth, gripping it to keep himself up right, Tarn gradually became aware of the many deep throbbing aches throughout his frame. 

Shut Up and Listen

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

The first thing Tarn was aware of as consciousness returned, was the stiff pressure of the berth beneath his back. He recalled being sent offline during an explosion, so he was likely in the medbay. However, the tank never thought the berths in here were so uncomfortable before, and he was well acquainted with all the ‘comforts’ of their medical wing. T-cog transplants and all that. Nickel wasn’t one to baby the DJD of all mechs, but this felt coldly unfamiliar. 

Taking a risk, despite the helmache steady building at the base of his neck, Tarn onlined his vision. He squinted at the worn and stained ceiling before flaring his optics. This wasn’t the Peaceful Tyranny. Attempting to call out for his mechs, Tarn’s infamous voice choked wordlessly in his throat. Muted. His voice had been stolen from him. Whomever was responsible for this was going to find their names at the top of the List.

Tarn rolled his helm to the side, optics still hazily booting up from involuntary stasis, and tried to make sense of the mechs standing around him. Of all the fragging Decepticons in the universe....  

Shut Up and Listen

This was the worst idea ever. And yet they were going with it. Their ship, on it’s last legs, and they were putting it though this! Crankcase growled as he looked at Spinister’s newest patient. Cursing the mech’s hidden faceplates, he sat back.

“Why the Pit are we doing this?!” Case snarled as Spin hooked more devices up to Tarn. Fragging Tarn! 

“Because we take care of our own,” Krok vented, “Granted he’s not one of us, but he is still a Decepticon, as are we.”

“But he doesn’t believe that!” Case argued, “He’s going to kill us!”

“Then we have to show him,” Krok glared, but it softened, “Case… He’s strapped down with things Grimlock, who is right out the door, can’t break, and we still haven’t repaired his voicebox. He will not harm us… Right now.”

Their pilot snarled, “Fine! Wake him up Spin.”

The medic nodded, “All right Tarn, Time to wake up and see the traitors!”

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

@teslalindocruz and I were discussing Helex and then this happened.

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

LOOK AT THEM.

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

THE ONLY PLAYTIME MONTAGE I WANTED SEE >:(

(Kaon: I have 2 hotels on Iacon! Cough up, Helex!) 

[killingyousoftlywithhissong]

I did this for you.

For the first time in his long, long lifecycle, Tarn was utterly and undeniably speechless. At his pedes lay the gray form of Optimus Prime, energon still warm and trickling out of his many wounds. On the fallen Autobot’s other side, stood Megatron in all his post-battle glory. His leader’s words cycled through Tarn’s processor a second - or was it a third? - time. 

“For you, I have slain the oppressor. Rise now, Roller, and step free of his shadow.”