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@reclusiveformerwarlord-archive
Okay guys, this blog is officially moving!!
"Life in isolation is better than captivity." Post Predacons Rising Megatron - written by Briar....
This blog will remain in place as an archive, but the new blog is a complete reboot!
Okay guys, this blog is officially moving!!
"Life in isolation is better than captivity." Post Predacons Rising Megatron - written by Briar....
This blog will remain in place as an archive, but the new blog is a complete reboot!
Okay guys, this blog is officially moving!!
"Life in isolation is better than captivity." Post Predacons Rising Megatron - written by Briar....
This blog will remain in place as an archive, but the new blog is a complete reboot!
Okay guys, this blog is officially moving!!
"Life in isolation is better than captivity." Post Predacons Rising Megatron - written by Briar....
This blog will remain in place as an archive, but the new blog is a complete reboot!
Okay guys, this blog is officially moving!!
"Life in isolation is better than captivity." Post Predacons Rising Megatron - written by Briar....
This blog will remain in place as an archive, but the new blog is a complete reboot!
Blog moving soon!
I'm going to be resetting Megatron, and moving him to a new blog. This one is going to be an archive.
Unfortunately, right now my laptop is down, it needs a new fan. So the move is gonna take some time.
I'll be more than happy to rp with the people I did before, just remember, he won't remember your character or their history.
So i am semi back. I have no laptop atm, the fan died. So I'm stuck with mobile.
I need to chat with @immortalwanderer first, cuz I need to figure out what to do with that verse. I may end up making the verse with soundwave the main verse.
I just don't know yet.
Helm bump.
Megatron purrs loudly, nuzzling into the helm bump.Ā After a moment, he nudges Soundwaveās helm up slightly, and kisses the visor over Soundwaveās mouth, still purring as loud as he could.
reclusiveformerwarlordā:
Megatron hums softly, sitting and carefully pulling Soundwave into his lap.Ā Heās content to cuddle his partner like this for an eternity, butā¦ He has plans.
Freeing a servo to dig in his subspace, Megatron pulls something out.Ā Ā āI intend to make you my Conjunx.āĀ He whispers, soft enough for only Soundwaveās audials.Ā He places a small crystal figurine in his former Thirdās palm, curling the slim digits over it.
Itās roughly carved, as Megatron was never an artisan, but itās clearly a model of Ravage, including the felineās small rocket launchers.
It took a few solid minutes for Soundwave to process both the words and just what Megatron had slipped so gently into his servo. He pulled back, taking two steps to put distance between them ā not that he wanted to be away from Megatron, but his attention had been curved.
( he understands the gifting that comes with rituals, even if he thinks theyāre silly, but heād planned to make a show of admiring the gift. obviously, it had taken time, no matter how crude the carvings were; itās the thought that counts! )
His helm lowered and optics scanning over the item; EM field started amused and accepting, perhaps a bit teasing as Soundwave always was, but it was lost when he realized just what it was supposed to be. It was a slow change though, grief inkling in and chilling the warmth that had previously filled his core.Ā
He muted his broken vocoder before a saddened keen managed to escape, though he couldnāt stall how his vents shuddered to pull in air. A servo that hadnāt been holding the crystal and slender digits delicately stroked the details of the model, grief shifting to affection.
( he remembers. the feline stalking through the halls of their headquarters, pouncing on fellow decepticonsĀ toĀ āplayā, only purring and rubbing against either megatronĀ or soundwave. always precious, more so the twins and perhaps more than even laserbeak. and perhaps megatron had felt the same, he vaguely remembers secret smiles and allowing the mischevious feline to recharge on his pedes. )
Soundwaveās helm jerked up and he cradled against his chest plating, where a docking space once had been. Then the distance closed and visor had disengaged, his mouth colliding with Megatronās. It was clumsier than his usual grace and it made him feel ridiculous to be so needy or even off balance. A moment of weakness.
Shown in his EM field as well. Warmth surrounding affection and acceptance; grief was still there, probably always would be, but he hoped. Yes, Soundwave who had so easily decided that his own function was so useless, now he hoped ā and it felt right.Ā
āIdiot,ā a playful recording had played.Ā
( mine. yes. thank you. i love you. )Ā
It was Ravage, and Laserbeak, more than the other symbiotes that Megatron had grown fond of.Ā More than once, heād let the feline curl around his pedes while he worked on datapads, had fed both avian and feline small tidbits of the energon treats usually saved for himself alone.Ā The twins... heād kept a certain distance, an excuse for him to declare himself unaware of their pranks.Ā But some of the stories heād heard, heād wished heād witnessed.
As Soundwaveās EM wavers, the former warlord flares his own out, offering comfort and affection.Ā He doesnāt try to follow the mech though, just letting the spymaster have his space.Ā As his partnerās EM warms, Megatron allows himself a small, warm smile.
He wasnāt expecting the rushed, clumsy kiss, but he lifts a servo to rest on Soundwaveās neck, subtly pulling the slim mech closer, humming into the kiss.Ā ::Your idiot.::Ā The tone is pleased and amused.
Helm bump.
Megatron purrs loudly, nuzzling into the helm bump.Ā After a moment, he nudges Soundwaveās helm up slightly, and kisses the visor over Soundwaveās mouth, still purring as loud as he could.
Oh!
Soundwave had not expected that. It wasnāt unwelcomed though, Soundwaveās EM field an erratic mess of excitement and affection. His frame moved in, slender servos moving to either side of Megatronās helm. He planned to keep him firmly in place, nudging the screen of his visor against Megatronās mouth.
A playful form of a kiss. A reminder.
The visor brightened with glyphs; words of affection, carefully written and glowing faintly against a dark background.Ā
Megatron hums softly, sitting and carefully pulling Soundwave into his lap.Ā Heās content to cuddle his partner like this for an eternity, but... He has plans.
Freeing a servo to dig in his subspace, Megatron pulls something out.Ā Ā āI intend to make you my Conjunx.āĀ He whispers, soft enough for only Soundwaveās audials.Ā He places a small crystal figurine in his former Thirdās palm, curling the slim digits over it.
Itās roughly carved, as Megatron was never an artisan, but itās clearly a model of Ravage, including the felineās small rocket launchers.
Helm bump.
Megatron purrs loudly, nuzzling into the helm bump.Ā After a moment, he nudges Soundwaveās helm up slightly, and kisses the visor over Soundwaveās mouth, still purring as loud as he could.
so like, i died.Ā but seeing @shadowofagladiator posting again, the mega muse came roaring back to life, screamingĀ āMINEMINEMINEā
SO WHERE DO I OWE POSTS
šŖ
Send šŖ for your muse to show off their body to mine
He casts a sidelong glance at his mate, looking none too pleased. āWas it entirely necessary to throw that poor mech like a shot-put? I know he caught us in aā¦ private moment, but a simple āmove alongā would have sufficed!ā
āI donāt like being watched.āĀ Megatron growls possessively, claws already moving back to fondle Primeās curves.Ā Not his fault Optimus had been walking around, swaying those sinful hips all cycle.Ā That look gets a self-conscious rumble, and crimson optics slide away from that scolding expression.Ā Ā āI didnāt harm him.ā
Which was true, in a manner of speaking.Ā The mech hadĀ left Megatronās claws uninjured.
::Terra! Come here, you need to see this!:: And when Terra comes to the berth room, the sight waiting for him is an excited Andromeda scrabbling around on her carrier's chest, transformed into her alt for the first time, looking very much like her sire's predacon form.
Although startled, the lack of protectiveness or fear through their bond keeps Terra from reacting negatively. No blade is drawn, nor does he dash to his partnerās side. Although, he does move quickly, as Megatronās excitement is urging enough.
The Ancient pauses at the sight that greets him. Cyan optics focus upon Andromeda and he cannot help the swell of pride. He sits upon the berth, adoration and elation clear upon his face.
āExtraordinary.ā He rumbles quietly.
Megatron grins proudly, reaching over to lay a servo on Terraās thigh.Ā As tired and sore as heās been, itās good to have a distraction.
Andromeda lets out an excited squeal at the sight of her sire, scrabbling across to him to climb on him.Ā Sheās still a little unsteady on these new limbs, her tail dragging and wings wobbling, tripping a little over her own claws.Ā But sheās enthusiastic, excited to show her new self to him.
Ross curls up in Megatron's lap, tugging a digit to urge his servo over. Give pets, please. "Freelock and I are having our wedding in a few months. You should come."
Heās perfectly happy to gently pet Rossās back, as always, being very careful to not put too much pressure on her.Ā Ā āWedding?āĀ Heās not entirely familiar with that word, but if it means what he thinks it meansā¦
Well.Ā Heās too tired to lecture her on moving too fast.Ā Heās been tired, sinceĀ Andromedaās emergence.Ā Far too tired.
āYup! Iām excited.ā She stretches out, practically purring. Megatron gives good pets.
The exhaustion in his field doesnāt go unnoticed. In fact, itās enough to make Ross yawn herself. Her presence fills with gentle concern and she tilts her head at him. āHow much recharge have you been getting lately?ā
Digits wander upward, to stroke her hair gently.Ā That wasnāt a question heād wanted aimed at him, and Megatron vents softly.Ā Ā āNot as much as usual.Ā Iāve been exhausted since Andromedaās emergence... and sore.āĀ He quietly pets Ross for a moment.Ā Ā āI think I told you, it was a very difficult emergence.ā
He stiffens a little, the feeling of digits around his body, it reminds him far too much of Thanatos. Of that fateful eve. The panic and fear, it rises for a moment before he forces himself to calm, shoving the past aside to focus on the here and now. He can remember later.
Terra settles against Megatronās chest, hands pressed to the mechās plating. His ear is pressed to his chest and he hums softly, listening to the former warlordās internal systems.
āā¦ Youāre not going to lose me,ā he assures, Presence flaring and encompassing the mech, meshing easily with his field. Warmth and love overshadows his lingering doubts. He doesnāt want to go. He wonāt go unless Megatron pushes him away.
āIām not going anywhere. I promise.ā
With Terra cuddled against his chest, Megatron begins to relax a little, one digit idly rubbing the man's back. Ā It would take some time to really get used to this form.
The moment Terra's Presence meshes with his EM field, Megatron makes a tiny noise of relief, an almost inaudible chirp. Ā Facial plating heats up, and he lowers his helm to rest a cheek against the side of Terra's helm.
His own field is still full of conflicting emotions, confusion warring with affection... the hurt is fading, but still present.
He certainly isn't letting go of Terra anytime soon.
Luminous silver flits to the momentarily outstretched digits. If he wanted to, the mech could attack and Terra could retaliate. Both of them could end up doing something they regret.
The hesitance of Megatronās words make the Ancient take pause, though only for a moment. He hums softly and steps closer, unfearing of the mecha or what may occur as he moves close. He worries, though, about what the mech might say. The pain of rejection, it still claws at his Core.
The Ashillonian reaches one gauntletted hand up and gently touches Megatronās servo, touch light and soft.
āI would hopeā¦ that I would not have to change for you to accept meā¦ That you would accept meā¦ for me. As I have, you.
āYour pastā¦ Who you were, does not determine who you are now. I love you for who you are. All of you. Past, present, and future.
āI would hope thatā¦ you would love meā¦ for me. All of me. No matter how I look.ā
Digits curl around Terraās small hand for a moment, then Megatron releases it. Ā This is still Terra, butā¦ Ā He huffs, plating flaring briefly in an uncomfortable gesture. Ā
He wouldnāt be the first Cybertronian to end up with an organic partner, butā¦ he was aware of what happened to those who did. Ā They were ostrasized, social pariahsā¦ traitors. Ā And he was already a traitor, hated for instigating the Great War, for so many atrocities. Ā This was a small thing.
And he had already rejected Cybertronian society.
Gently, he closes his digits around Terraās hand again, lightly pulling to urge Terra closer. Ā "I canātā¦ā Ā How the hell was he supposed to explain that he had absolutely no attraction to this organic form? Ā He vented roughly, letting go and withdrawing his servo.
āYouāre too small.ā Ā An excuse. Ā It wasnāt the size that offended him, it was the organic appearance. Ā "Youāre unappealing like that, Terra.ā Ā Well, there it went, with none of the tact Megatron had wanted to use.
Primus. Ā He wanted to apologize, to hold Terra and tell him, that as bizarre as it felt, he still loved him. Ā And he resorted to unfurling his EM field, letting it expand outward, the confusion, dismay, hope, and affection bleed through clearly.
His excuses only lead to Terraās brows furrowing more. His Presence is held tight, firmly away from the mech and so very unlike his usual openness. But his last statement is like a slap to the face. Tapered ears pin back, hurt clear upon his face and evident within his body language as he almost seems to shrink into himself a little.
He backs away, he has to. His Presence breaks free of his control and it is curling with anguish, hurt, and shame. It does not mesh with Megatronās. It lashes, rejecting. He turns, exposing his back, shoulders hunched and gauntletted hands clenched.
āā¦ I should have know that. I expected it.ā He murmurs shakily, voice watery and wavering.Ā āBut hearing you say thatā¦ it hurts.ā
He doesnāt really blame Megatron. He, quite honestly, did not find any appeal in mechanicals. He hated them for a long time. For most of his life, in fact.
āā¦ I used to hate mechanicals.ā He mumbles softly.Ā āAnd then I met you.
āYou made me change my mind. I had to change my mind. Because I fell in love. I fell in love with your mindā¦ Your bodyā¦ just came next.
āā¦ Iām not telling you that you should love this form. I donāt expect thatā¦ I could never demand that.ā His Presence eases, settling and soothing. The pain, the shame, the sorrow. It all lingers. But there is an overarching feeling of understanding that overtakes those feelings.
He turns back to Megatron, wiping at his face roughly in an attempt to chase away the unbidden tears.
āI love you. And even if you only ever find one form attractiveā¦ Thatās okayā¦ Yeah, thatās okay. Because, itās still me. No matter what form I take, Iām still Terra.
āAnd if you love me? Thatās all I need.ā
The hurt on Terra's face made him cringe, and as he turns away, Megatron panics slightly. Ā "Don't leave!" Ā It's a plea, in a frightened, broken tone that makes Megatron feel a little ashamed. Ā He sounds like a spark broken new-build, not a several millenia old mech, hardened to such losses.
The mech falls silent as Terra speaks, and vents quietly. Ā "Organics and Cybertronians have hated each other for so long..." Ā Reaching out, he scoops Terra up in both servos, and holds him against his chest. Ā He's silent, the only sounds the soft noises of internal systems working, cooling fans humming, intermittent rumbling from an idling engine...
"I don't want to lose you." Ā He finally whispered, optics closed as he holds Terra.
Luminous silver flits to the momentarily outstretched digits. If he wanted to, the mech could attack and Terra could retaliate. Both of them could end up doing something they regret.
The hesitance of Megatronās words make the Ancient take pause, though only for a moment. He hums softly and steps closer, unfearing of the mecha or what may occur as he moves close. He worries, though, about what the mech might say. The pain of rejection, it still claws at his Core.
The Ashillonian reaches one gauntletted hand up and gently touches Megatronās servo, touch light and soft.
āI would hopeā¦ that I would not have to change for you to accept meā¦ That you would accept meā¦ for me. As I have, you.
āYour pastā¦ Who you were, does not determine who you are now. I love you for who you are. All of you. Past, present, and future.
āI would hope thatā¦ you would love meā¦ for me. All of me. No matter how I look.ā
Digits curl around Terra's small hand for a moment, then Megatron releases it. Ā This is still Terra, but... Ā He huffs, plating flaring briefly in an uncomfortable gesture. Ā
He wouldn't be the first Cybertronian to end up with an organic partner, but... he was aware of what happened to those who did. Ā They were ostrasized, social pariahs... traitors. Ā And he was already a traitor, hated for instigating the Great War, for so many atrocities. Ā This was a small thing.
And he had already rejected Cybertronian society.
Gently, he closes his digits around Terra's hand again, lightly pulling to urge Terra closer. Ā "I can't..." Ā How the hell was he supposed to explain that he had absolutely no attraction to this organic form? Ā He vented roughly, letting go and withdrawing his servo.
"You're too small." Ā An excuse. Ā It wasn't the size that offended him, it was the organic appearance. Ā "You're unappealing like that, Terra." Ā Well, there it went, with none of the tact Megatron had wanted to use.
Primus. Ā He wanted to apologize, to hold Terra and tell him, that as bizarre as it felt, he still loved him. Ā And he resorted to unfurling his EM field, letting it expand outward, the confusion, dismay, hope, and affection bleed through clearly.
