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@froidian-slip
They are here to help, dont worry!
Home. Finally. Froid slaps his hand on the panel of the door to his shared habsuite with Trepan, practically stumbling in the entryway as the door closes behind him. The mech looks tired and weary, but unharmed. The first thing he does is search out his mate, hoping that he had not found another. This was all his fault. He never should have left. "Trepan?"
Trepan seemed equally as tired, as if he hadnât slept properly for weeks.
Then again, considering the mechâs not-so-stellar health, night terrors and bad habits? It was no wonder, really. Still, it never got this bad when Froid was around.Â
He had been at the table with a bottle of his specially made wine, leaning back in the chair he sat in with one leg crossed over the other. It wasnât until he heard Froid that he made any notion of moving, optics brightening and getting up to rush to him, âFroid?!â
trepanophiliac:
Trepan was the one to tug at Froid now, pulling him to sit on the berth, âShe is⊠interesting and has helped me on more than one occasion with some of my more troubling issues.â Namely the night terrors.
âRex is what she goes by,â and Trepan was oddly respecting enough to use her preferred name, âand is probably the first beast mech Iâve been able to tolerate.â Although it was more than just tolerance now.
âRex....interesting then. I will have to meet her and thank her kindly for helping you when I was unable.â Froid still felt bad about his absence, and he knew that while Trepan hadnât brought it up, that didnât mean that it didnât need to be discussed.
Home. Finally. Froid slaps his hand on the panel of the door to his shared habsuite with Trepan, practically stumbling in the entryway as the door closes behind him. The mech looks tired and weary, but unharmed. The first thing he does is search out his mate, hoping that he had not found another. This was all his fault. He never should have left. "Trepan?"
Trepan seemed equally as tired, as if he hadnât slept properly for weeks.
Then again, considering the mechâs not-so-stellar health, night terrors and bad habits? It was no wonder, really. Still, it never got this bad when Froid was around.Â
He had been at the table with a bottle of his specially made wine, leaning back in the chair he sat in with one leg crossed over the other. It wasnât until he heard Froid that he made any notion of moving, optics brightening and getting up to rush to him, âFroid?!â
trepanophiliac:
Trepan followed Froid eagerly, allowing himself to be tugged without complaint, âNo, nothing drastic, nor worrying.â Trepan tried his best to not worry Froid, but it was difficult given his nature and conditions.
âI⊠have found another friend, however.â
âA friend? Do tell.â Froidâs interest was piqued, but he also worried some. Trepan usually made some very interesting friends and Froid did not always get along with them. He was just a difficult personality to get along with was all.
Home. Finally. Froid slaps his hand on the panel of the door to his shared habsuite with Trepan, practically stumbling in the entryway as the door closes behind him. The mech looks tired and weary, but unharmed. The first thing he does is search out his mate, hoping that he had not found another. This was all his fault. He never should have left. "Trepan?"
Trepan seemed equally as tired, as if he hadnât slept properly for weeks.
Then again, considering the mechâs not-so-stellar health, night terrors and bad habits? It was no wonder, really. Still, it never got this bad when Froid was around.Â
He had been at the table with a bottle of his specially made wine, leaning back in the chair he sat in with one leg crossed over the other. It wasnât until he heard Froid that he made any notion of moving, optics brightening and getting up to rush to him, âFroid?!â
trepanophiliac:
Trepan chuckled softly and leaned up to nuzzle his face to Froidâs, flaring his field against the psychologistâs affectionately as well, âAs I have yours. Iâve missed you like nothing elseâŠâ
And he was very reluctant to let go now.
Froid gently began tugging his mate towards their shared berth, never breaking eye contact with the other. âTell me....how much have I missed in my absence? Nothing too drastic I hope?â Hopefully nothing too exciting or worrisome....
So what is it about Trepan that makes you so attracted to him? Your Trepan specifically, that is. I know he's pretty and has a brilliant mind but there's got to be more to it.
We are broken mechs my dear anon, but broken in all the best ways. We both deceive, manipulate and lie, creating a world that is just to our liking. My Trepan is a mech who admires me for the traits others would rather erase, and despite his spark injuries he is the hardiest mech I know. It is far more than physical appearance for me. It is all about the connection. After all, who else would have a mate who actively engages in murder to keep them fed?
Fraud Ballgag McLongArms
âI fail to see the humor or the point in this statement.â
Home. Finally. Froid slaps his hand on the panel of the door to his shared habsuite with Trepan, practically stumbling in the entryway as the door closes behind him. The mech looks tired and weary, but unharmed. The first thing he does is search out his mate, hoping that he had not found another. This was all his fault. He never should have left. "Trepan?"
Trepan seemed equally as tired, as if he hadnât slept properly for weeks.
Then again, considering the mechâs not-so-stellar health, night terrors and bad habits? It was no wonder, really. Still, it never got this bad when Froid was around.Â
He had been at the table with a bottle of his specially made wine, leaning back in the chair he sat in with one leg crossed over the other. It wasnât until he heard Froid that he made any notion of moving, optics brightening and getting up to rush to him, âFroid?!â
trepanophiliac:
âNo, nothing too serious. It hasnât gotten any worse since you leftâŠâ But it hadnât gotten any better either. Bonding was the only thing that kept Trepanâs condition from worsening and even helped as well.Â
Trepan gently grabbed the servo that brushed along his plating, entwining their digits, âAs you said, nothing a bit of bonding canât help.â Trepan could feel the craving for it in Froidâs field and was more than ready to do so himself.
âExcellent.â Froid instantly linked his hands with Trepanâs, wanting to have as much as the other against him as possible. âI have craved your touch like an addict...withdrawals and all.â He grinned behind the mouthguard, field flaring to push tightly against the other mech.
Home. Finally. Froid slaps his hand on the panel of the door to his shared habsuite with Trepan, practically stumbling in the entryway as the door closes behind him. The mech looks tired and weary, but unharmed. The first thing he does is search out his mate, hoping that he had not found another. This was all his fault. He never should have left. "Trepan?"
Trepan seemed equally as tired, as if he hadnât slept properly for weeks.
Then again, considering the mechâs not-so-stellar health, night terrors and bad habits? It was no wonder, really. Still, it never got this bad when Froid was around.Â
He had been at the table with a bottle of his specially made wine, leaning back in the chair he sat in with one leg crossed over the other. It wasnât until he heard Froid that he made any notion of moving, optics brightening and getting up to rush to him, âFroid?!â
trepanophiliac:
Trepan gave Froid a soft smile when the taller mech pulled back, antennae folding back in a manner of content, âI know you wouldnât, and Iâm not upset.â He could never find it in him to be upset over anything when it came to Froid; everything was always forgiven.
âI know you worry over my health, and I do admit to having some problems but I am capable of caring for myself, you know.â He simply found it more difficult to control certain habits and such without the restraint Froid gave him.
Froid gave a humph of dissatisfaction, reaching out to brush his hand gently against Trepanâs chest, right above the mechâs spark. â...You havenât been too ill I hope...nothing a bit of spark bonding canât fix.â And boy was Froid craving a bonding session. His own spark felt empty and it had ached terribly for his conjunx in his extended absence.
Home. Finally. Froid slaps his hand on the panel of the door to his shared habsuite with Trepan, practically stumbling in the entryway as the door closes behind him. The mech looks tired and weary, but unharmed. The first thing he does is search out his mate, hoping that he had not found another. This was all his fault. He never should have left. "Trepan?"
Trepan seemed equally as tired, as if he hadnât slept properly for weeks.
Then again, considering the mechâs not-so-stellar health, night terrors and bad habits? It was no wonder, really. Still, it never got this bad when Froid was around.Â
He had been at the table with a bottle of his specially made wine, leaning back in the chair he sat in with one leg crossed over the other. It wasnât until he heard Froid that he made any notion of moving, optics brightening and getting up to rush to him, âFroid?!â
trepanophiliac:
Trepan eagerly went into Froidâs arms, relaxing fully against the one mech he trusted above all others. It was rare that he could even get near this comfortable with someone, but Froid was the exception. Trepan didnât say anything for a while, just basking in the presence he had missed so dearly.Â
He eventually did speak however, and it was soft, more so than usual with his mate, âPlease donât be. Whatever happened, I could care less as long as youâre alright.â
And back home.
âI was so worried about you...â Froid vented a sigh and pulled back, looking Trepan over with a scrutinizing eye. He always worried about his mateâs health, but this unexpected extended absence scared him and he feared that Trepan would be in terrible shape when he returned. Thankfully, that was not the case, and Froid felt himself relax immensely. âI would never leave you on purpose.â
Home. Finally. Froid slaps his hand on the panel of the door to his shared habsuite with Trepan, practically stumbling in the entryway as the door closes behind him. The mech looks tired and weary, but unharmed. The first thing he does is search out his mate, hoping that he had not found another. This was all his fault. He never should have left. "Trepan?"
Trepan seemed equally as tired, as if he hadnât slept properly for weeks.
Then again, considering the mechâs not-so-stellar health, night terrors and bad habits? It was no wonder, really. Still, it never got this bad when Froid was around.Â
He had been at the table with a bottle of his specially made wine, leaning back in the chair he sat in with one leg crossed over the other. It wasnât until he heard Froid that he made any notion of moving, optics brightening and getting up to rush to him, âFroid?!â
âTrepan.â Froid sagged in relief, wrapping his long arms around the other mech and pulling him closely. Slowly he drew in the otherâs scent, burying his face against Trepanâs neck. âMy love....Iâm home....Iâm sorry...â Froidâs grip tightened, plating clamping down as he focused his entire world on the mech in his arms. âI am so sorry.â
At this point Froid just wants to watch all the walking disaster characters unravel and the world burn as he takes notes. Relatable.Â
â What flowers would Trepan give to his husband?
For Froid? There would be a neat bundle of arbutus, red camellias, dandelions, holly, myrtle and primrose. To top it as the most important one, a single red rose in full bloom.
@froidian-slip
ITS BITCH
I KNEW IT!!
Villain Inktober Day 14 - Sunder & Froid from Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye
I had a bit of a hard time picking a villain from MTMTE since all of them are memorable as all hell, but my weakness for robot-specific horrors took over and I ended up with this horrifying duo :D
(I promise I will be back. I just need to try and prioritize things. Shut down or hiatus other blogs and put my focus back into this one.)
There's a loud noise at his door and then weird silence. Outside is a dead cybertronian with all their energon lines torn out pretty neatly. There is a sticky note on the dead mechs forehead with "to: the best sire" written on it. what a weird gift
Froid smiles fondly before taking the body inside, making a mental note to thank Mia in a special way later on.
I LOVE YOU
"Who doesnât?â