The Hall of Muses

Accepting M!A asks and roleplay asks

[sparkflower-fields]

✨Blog Introduction Post✨

Hello everyone! Welcome to my multimuse blog! My name is K.B. or KayBee, whichever you prefer! I am 25 years old and my pronouns are They/Them.

Muse List

Autobots:

Cheetor (Cyberverse)

Swerve (IDW)

Tailgate (IDW)

Optimus Prime/Orion Pax (ES/TFA/TFP/IDW/TF1)

Ratchet (TFP/IDW)

Rodimus/Hot Rod (IDW/Cyberverse)

Perceptor (IDW/Cyberverse)

Decepticons:

Knockout (TFP/IDW/ES!AU)

Nickel (IDW)

Rumble/Frenzy (G1)

Starscream (IDW/Windblade/G1/TF1)

Others:

Kitbasher (OC)

This blog is a roleplay blog for the Transformers fandom, featuring multimuse, multiverse and canon divergent aspects! So if something isn't quite accurate, that's okay! We are all here to have fun and write interesting narratives and to create with one another!

This blog is an 18+ blog, meaning anyone under the age of 18 is requested to not interact with any of the muses, or myself (the mun) especially in any inappropriate ways! I am willing to be kind, and interact in PG settings with younger folks, but anything more than that will earn a block. It is for your safety and my own.

If you are an adult and wish to interact with my muses in a spicy (20+ NSFT/NSFW) way, please direct your interactions to @cigarettes-after-interface that is my after dark roleplay blog!

Now, for the roleplay stuff!

Length

Typically, I roleplay longform style, with anywhere from two or three paragraphs to five or six, depending on how long the roleplay has gone on, how much my muse is involved in the scene and how detailed my partner's responses are.

Format

My preferred format is narrative style. For example: "The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog." Said the narrator. Though on occasion, when being silly and/or lazy I have used asterisks. (i.e. *Stick bug dance.*)

Consistency

I will always try to remain consistent in my replies, in length, format, grammar and frequency, and I would like to expect the same from others when engaging in serious roleplay (not shenanigans.) Communication is key! If I am actively roleplaying with someone, and I will be taking longer than usual to reply or will be gone for an extended period of time, I will try to let them know, and I expect the same of those who roleplay with me. Also, I will tell you in private if I am growing bored, uninspired, or uncomfortable with a roleplay, and I fully expect for you to do the same. If you don't communicate with me do not expect me to reply in the ways you want me to!

With that all being said, I know it seems daunting to speak with me, or to roleplay with me. I assure you its not! I am a very easy person to talk to and get along with, so please feel free to send my muses asks, or even shoot me a private message! If I'm busy I will get to your message eventually, I never leave messages in my inbox unread.

I hope to speak with you all and get into some fun roleplays with you all!

-Mun (aka "Kaybee")

[sparkflower-fields]

[ooc]

*Clawing my way out of the unmarked grave where life tried to bury me alive.*

*Right hand bursts through the ground and pulls my head out gasping*

...

*cough*

Yo

So some updates.

*pulling my iPad out of the dirt and putting my glasses on*

I am still alive despite life and mental illnesses and their best efforts. I do plan on being more active in the days to come, once my current projects aren't taking up all my time.

Inbox and everything is still open so if anybody wants to chat feel free.

I am also attending TF Con 2025 in October on Saturday! So if you folks are going I look forward to seeing you there! :3 I will be closet cosplaying as Rodimus ^^;;

I also plan on revamping my blog page when I have the free time to do so, possibly looking into a third party site to write better backgrounds for my most active muses.

Sorry for disappearing for so long. I've been around, still lurking and seeing everyone doing their thing, just haven't had the spoons to participate.

[silenceofthewave]

cont. with @sparkflower-fields

Somehow, the begging in Soundwave's optics only grew when Megatron began to speak. His brows knit together further as he heard the laugh in Megatron's voice. It was a genuine question! And now Megatron was laughing at him?

The tears in his optics threatened to spill as Megatron posed his own query. The answer was technically yes, but Soundwave wasn't thinking about that right now! He was thinking of the scraplet itself, an inherently unlovable creature. Could Megatron love him still, even if he was something so reprehensible?

Soundwave looked away and the grip on his sparkmate's servo loosened. Soon the only thing holding it there was Megatron. He stifled a sniff and then brought his other hand up to wipe his face.

"Are..." Soundwave whispered.

He met Megatron's optics once more, "Are you saying you would try to dispose of me if I was a scraplet?"

[sparkflower-fields]

"A scraplet is the equivalent of a human-flesh eating parasite… If it were yourself turned into one… I suppose I would hold a great deal of sentiment for it- er... you… and likely grieve for our sparkling and myself, losing such an important mech in our lives to whatever foul magic or tech is in play to turn my conjunx and their carrier into such a thing. I would keep you safe and fed until I could turn you back, or perhaps put your consciousness into a new frame." Megatron was becoming more and more distressed about the idea that Soundwave could possibly become a scraplet.

"Has... has someone threatened to turn you into such a creature, my love? I promise I won't let that happen to you." He pulled Soundwave's servo up to his chest, holding it over his spark as he looked down at Soundwave with such worry and concern, wiping his tears away with his other servo.

[silenceofthewave]

Soundwave knew what a scraplet was! He didn't need a reminder. Soundwave could feel the gentle pulse of irritation grow stronger as Megatron continued talking about grieving him if he were turned into such a thing. What, was he dancing around the issue because he would dispose of him?

Soundwave was about to protest the very idea just as Megatron mentioned still keeping him around. The small bit of fight he mustered melted away. He wiggled out of Megatron's grasp momentarily, then reached for him. He pulled him down to the berth and wormed his way into an almost crushing cuddle.

"No." Soundwave shook his head. "Got into an argument with Frenzy. That's all."

[sparkflower-fields]

Megatron allowed himself to be pulled into the vice-like cuddle pile with Soundwave, settling in with his arms wrapped snuggly around the other.

"Ah." He said. "Well... To be quite honest I would be obsessed with keeping you safe. More than I already am." He stroked Soundwave's helm.

"You're the carrier of my offspring, and my Conjunx Endurae. I would stop at nothing to feel your spark next to mine. Even if it meant you would eat it out of my chassis." He pressed a kiss to Soundwave's temple.

"To die by your hand... or teeth... would be bliss."

[silenceofthewave]

cont. with @sparkflower-fields

Somehow, the begging in Soundwave's optics only grew when Megatron began to speak. His brows knit together further as he heard the laugh in Megatron's voice. It was a genuine question! And now Megatron was laughing at him?

The tears in his optics threatened to spill as Megatron posed his own query. The answer was technically yes, but Soundwave wasn't thinking about that right now! He was thinking of the scraplet itself, an inherently unlovable creature. Could Megatron love him still, even if he was something so reprehensible?

Soundwave looked away and the grip on his sparkmate's servo loosened. Soon the only thing holding it there was Megatron. He stifled a sniff and then brought his other hand up to wipe his face.

"Are..." Soundwave whispered.

He met Megatron's optics once more, "Are you saying you would try to dispose of me if I was a scraplet?"

[sparkflower-fields]

"A scraplet is the equivalent of a human-flesh eating parasite… If it were yourself turned into one… I suppose I would hold a great deal of sentiment for it- er... you… and likely grieve for our sparkling and myself, losing such an important mech in our lives to whatever foul magic or tech is in play to turn my conjunx and their carrier into such a thing. I would keep you safe and fed until I could turn you back, or perhaps put your consciousness into a new frame." Megatron was becoming more and more distressed about the idea that Soundwave could possibly become a scraplet.

"Has... has someone threatened to turn you into such a creature, my love? I promise I won't let that happen to you." He pulled Soundwave's servo up to his chest, holding it over his spark as he looked down at Soundwave with such worry and concern, wiping his tears away with his other servo.

[sparkflower-fields]

Soundwave is a positively pitiful sight. He's lying in his and Megatron's shared berth, surrounded by blankets and pillows. Yet, he seems completely unable to get comfortable and has instead given up on even trying.

He seems to perk up as soon as he hears Megatron step into the room. Immediately, Soundwave begins to sit up so he can reach for his beloved's servos and cling to them tight. Teary yellow optics stare up at Megatron, their light pleading in nature as Soundwave squeezes his servo tighter.

"Megatron..." Soundwave whines, voice just as sad as the rest of him, "Would you still love me if I was a scraplet?"

Megatron had just stepped into their cozy bunker that him and Soundwave had lovingly crafted into a home. It had been a long day and the ex-decepticon leader wanted nothing more than to come home and relax. When his optics landed on his love's worried and tear filled ones however, all thoughts of rest ejected from his processor immediately. He pulled Soundwave into his arms and was about to ask what was wrong when he heard the absolutely silly and ridiculous question leave his conjunx's lips. 'Would you still love me is I was a scraplet?'

"Soundwave..." He began with a bit of a chuckle in his tone.

"Where is this coming from?" He shook his helm. "If you were a scraplet... wouldn't that mean you would attempt to devour my frame?" His brow ridges knitted together and a slightly worried smile crept onto his lips.

[madamadamiu]

The

[aleciosun]

wip

[artificialangel22]

pov you’re starscream and you told him to stfu in predacons rising (metal pipe sound effect)

[carnobot]

You don't have to do this if it's too hard (I also have not gotten around to doing this cus it's detail work that sucks on a 40hr week, so I get it) but if you have the gumption for it I really want to see First Aid doing some wire work/repair.

Been thinking about medic hands and detail work a lot recently 😅🚑

-a other anon that is in love with your art/skill

Sparring with Drift gone wrong

[ravenisbored26]

Those crazy twins and their impulsive tasks.

Finally decided to use a pre-made color pallets and I really like the colors hehehehehe

[sparkflower-fields]

"If you do this, you won't be able to go back. You'll be like me." - From Star to KO?

Knockout stood, staring bitterly up at the clear, desert night sky, his spark filled with nothing but sorrow and longing for another that no longer lived. His Conjunx.

After losing Breakdown, Knockout wanted to defect, to leave the Decepticons behind.

After what he had faced and after what he was forced to endure for the sake of a cause that was supposedly meant to free him from the shackles of an oppressive political system that long ceased to exist, he no longer saw a reason to stick around.

“Starscream,” Knockout began,

“I hope that you can find a reason to stand up for yourself and grow a back strut against Megatron.” His words were biting and angry.

“Because there are worse things in this universe than living without Megatron’s approval.” He glared over his shoulder at the Seeker commander, his red optics piercing in the darkness.

[mikashikato]

Cygate hitting strong even after 7 years...

Uploaded this on twitter and thought that since most of my transformers art is in here I should do it here too

[crownmemes]

Concerned Sentences, Vol. 11

(Concerned sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"You keep picking fights with the wrong people."

"I'm not sure it's healthy for you to be here."

"You're making some questionable choices right now!"

"You know, you worry too much. You'd be much more comfortable if you relaxed with yourself."

"You can't run from this. It will only get worse."

"Who hit you?"

"I know you believe in what you're doing, but you've got to try to stop making it worse!"

"Is your job always like this?"

"How are you still alive?"

"You've been hiding from me, haven't you?"

"Whatever it is you think you have to do, you don't have to do it."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a lot of bad dreams?"

"It's my fault all this happened to you..."

"You can't expect me to ignore the fact you're out of control right now!"

"Do you feel unstable?"

"You hide behind your work. Your real area of expertise is avoiding any real intimacy."

"I've seen the scars on your body."

"Can you hear how paranoid you sound?"

"You're smarter than this. What's going on?"

"The only thing I can't figure out is why you'd risk your neck for a stranger!"

"Do you remember when you asked me to tell you when you were acting really crazy?"

"I know you don't like to be the cause for concern, but I am official concerned about you."

"It's unusual for you to be wrong."

"Take your time. When you're ready to talk, we'll talk."

"Why are you still here when the both of us know that this is bad for you?"

"Whatever this is, maybe I can help. I've helped before."

"You might be able to fool the others, but I know what you're doing."

"How can I help you if you won't let me?"

"You haven't needed my help in a long time."

"You'll end up falling out with everyone if you carry on like this!"

"If you do this, you won't be able to go back. You'll be like me."

[sparkflower-fields]

Optimus invented deeply, and slowly turned, his optics trailing over the floor until they followed up the line of the other’s frame, only stopping when his gaze reached Shockwave’s.

In the moment, he was Orion again, reliving one of the many worst moments of his life. Afraid, and unsure. But foremost? He was devastated.

Optimus took hesitant and stiff steps towards Shockwave until he was stood directly in front of the other, looking down with almost a pained expression. He moved an arm, servo poised to touch, but he stopped himself, retracting his arm back to his side and squeezing his servo into a fist.

“It is not… Repulsion so much as it is a deep sadness.” He knelt down, so that he had to slightly look up at Shockwave, rather than loom over him. Tears had formed in his optics, ever the pretty crier as they ran down his cheeks. The whole time they had been interacting he had kept his battle mask firmly in place, his emotions only portrayed through his optics, but now he let it retract, so that his whole face plate could be seen.

“And regret. Regret that I could not do more to save you.” Optimus’ tears silently fell over his cheeks.

“You were my friend, Shockwave. I looked up to you. Took inspiration from you.” He was almost pleading, but for what he couldn’t say. Even so, his tone stayed soft and his volume low. He didn’t want to yell or fight. Not with Shockwave.

“Seeing what became of you… I was afraid. I am afraid. Not only of there being nothing left of the mech I once adored… but there also being a piece of him still thriving… and that I had abandoned him.” Optimus sat on his heels, his servos resting in his lap, his frame suddenly feeling tired. He couldn’t keep his struts straight to hold himself up anymore, relinquishing his body to sit on the floor.

[quantumlogician]

Optimus' willingness was most surprising to him. Shockwave had assumed it would take much convincing to reel him over to where he sat, but in a compliance unbecoming to him, he came.

He supposes he hasn't changed all that much.

Cobalt blunt digits near, short of the innermost EMField band flush to Shockwave's plating before they were torn away. His host surrenders to the floor not only in body, but in privacy, unveiling a sight most sacred to Prime devotees. The tears were fast to appear, filling the wells of those aged optics, capturing the logician's focus entirely on this mosaic of uncomely emotion.

" We have had this conversation already before. I know it is likely difficult for you to remember between the bombshells and the cavernous growl of the Unmaker, but he [ the friend you crave and agonize for ] is as much me as what you see before you, " he chides, as if it were such an obvious thing and the former Prime was so much dull not to understand such a base concept.

Reclining back into the comfort of his seat, his operable arm lays atop the rest, digits drumming over the round edge. " Is this what you tell yourself? That- you abandoned me? " another dry, air-empty chuckle rumbles from his detuned vox, " have you not suffered enough becoming a living relic? Not enough that you have to torture yourself with mistruths because this life must be an exponential burden for you to wield. "

A shift in his seating, " I gave my life up to the Council for you and my students. I abandoned myself, if anything. Must you need a reminder? "

[sparkflower-fields]

“I remember our conversations, yes. There is little I don’t recall. Even the horrors that came to be in our universe, I am forced to endure and remember.” Optimus wiped at his own tears, the fluid on his face plate leaving streaked stains leading from his optics down to his cheeks, a bitter feeling settling over his spark as he recalled their last conversation. Electing to push it from his processor, he continued.

“I have suffered greatly for our species, and for the friends I have gained and lost over the millennia. But suffering does not cease just because you have endured a great deal of it.” He looked away from Shockwave, his optics gazing to the floor.

Optimus may be a strong, stalwart leader, held high in esteem, and has been since raised to his primacy, but despite popular belief he was not invincible. He felt losses deeply, maybe even more intense than most. He hurts when things go wrong, and he grieves the lives lost from the war. His guilt runs deep, and it is not something he can or would willingly lift off of his own shoulders. He believes it is his duty to bear that burden, and he does so without complaint.

“The fact of the matter is, I cannot simply believe what you say, that you hold any kind of remnant of the Senator. Of my friend.” He worried the scuffed surface of his palm, his thumb tracing over the seams there. It had been a while since he had refreshed his paint job, too busy with paperwork and organizing accommodations for refugees moving back into Cybertron, both Autobot and Decepticon alike.

“Even if there is some semblance, CNA, frame pieces that remain, how can you tell me that you still exist in your mind, when they pulled you apart, and took all of the things from you that made you… you.” Optimus picked at the paint on his palm, the normally striking blue paint flaking off into his lap, the anxiety and pain from this conversation driving him to mindless ticks.

“Shockwave… I mourned you. I mourned the loss of you. I mourned you just as I mourned my fellow Autobots fallen in battle. I still mourn you. That is why I was hiding because, truthfully, I never believed I would face you. That you’d more likely have me killed, or subdued to be executed. So in my spark, in my processor, you have been laid to rest.” Optimus closed his optics.

“If… if you can prove to me that you are still the same mech I once dreamed of working along side of, then perhaps I might be able to come to terms with the last several million years… But if not… I would request you not seek me out privately again.” At this point in Optimus’ heartfelt monologue he finally found the strength to stand, his old frame creaking as he pushed off one of his knee struts. He looked ready to leave, and never return to this subject, but he waited, to see if Shockwave could provide any means of proving himself to the ex-Autobot leader.

[polyhexianchicken]

It was after hours, Swerve's bar had closed down for the evening. But he still had the itch to do something. Not really sure what he wanted to do, standing in the darkened bar, he eyed a batch of energon he had whipped up that still had a few mugs worth.

Now... the real question was, who to share it with?

Cyclonus and Tailgate usually were asleep by now, so it couldn't be them.

Chromedome and Rewind were probably doing... Primus knows what. And the last time Swerve got involved he walked with a limp for a whole week.

So, his processor landed on Whirl. Whirl was usually awake at this Primus-forsaken hour. So why not stop by and pay him a visit?

Swerve sub-spaced the energon before locking up the bar and strolling to Whirl's hab. When he finally arrived he reached to knock, hesitating a moment. 'Was this a good idea?' The mini thought. He shook his helm and knocked, despite his doubts. He wanted to give the ex-wrecker a chance.

At first Whirl ignores the sound, thinking it was just some of the weird noises that come from living in a giant ship. That is, until after a few kliks he replays the sound, realising that it was in fact a knock at his doors. What the frag?

He trudges silently to the door, punching in the code to open it, not hiding his reaction of his helm jerking back in surprise when he spots the minibot. Swerve? What the hell?

"...Whatever it is, it wasn't me. I haven't stolen any of your inventory this week, so you can frag off to Magnus with that search request." Whirl chuffs rudely with a heavily suspiscious glint. Surely he's not here willingly now? Pff, nah. That couldn't be it, he wouldn't come over to just to hang out with Whirl, of all mechs. Well, not unless he was desperate.

[sparkflower-fields]

Swerve raised a digit, his intake agape as he was about to speak but was cut off by Whirl’s rambling. He snapped his mouth shut and waited patiently for the ex-wrecker to finish before he spoke.

“Nah Whirl, you have it all wrong, I’m here to uh hang out.” He opened his subspace and pulled out the left over highgrade from the bar, holding it out as a peace offering.

“You’re the only one up right now so I figured hey, why not?” Swerve shrugged with his signature crooked smile.

“Unless of course you’re busy… in which case I will take my booze elsewhere.” Swerve pretended like he was leaving, looking at Whirl out of the corner of his optic.

[sparkflower-fields]

[dollofiacon] "You're losing a lot of energon right now." [Ill & Injured Sentences, Vol. 6] [Dealer's choice!] ((Also, hi- hope it's alright that I sent this))

[Dealer’s Choice! The Wheel of Muses has been spun!]

[You get… Skyfire!]

“You’re losing a lot of energon right now.”

The large shuttleformer laid out in the snowy terrain of the arctic. How ironic. He froze into stasis out there before, and he was going to shut down out there now.

He coughed and spluttered, energon leaking from a blast wound in his chassis, and bubbling up through his intake. His servo clasped over the torn plating, his helm to thumping onto the ground as he stared up at the gloomy sky.

“Yeah… I guess I am huh?” He said softly, his brow ridges furrowed inward. Skyfire grit his dentae and painstakingly began propping his huge frame up, despite the energon pooling around him. From the looks of things, a vital fuel line was nicked or his fuel pump was cracked. Either way, he needed help soon.

The impact of his crash from the heavens left a hideous crater in the ice and snow, the usually pristine white dirtied by the bright color of his leaking energon. He felt bad about what it might do to the surrounding environment.

[dollofiacon-artandarchive]

It was so cold in the arctic... Mourningstar couldn't even remember how she even got there to begin with, but the moment she had seen the billowing fog whirling up from the crater, she recognized that there must have been a heat source. What she didn't expect to find was another Cybertronian, a massive injured one at that. It was a mess! Energon spilt onto the snow and ice was an especially alarming sight, and seeing how severe the injury was distracted her from the freezing cold.

"Let me help you..." She insisted gently, swiftly getting to work.

She was by no means a medic, nor did she even look remotely like one. In fact, to poor Skyfire, it may as well look like a gangly sparkless was getting ready to consume him as he lost his fuel until...

"PLAAGGHAHHGGH!!" SPLAT!

Right into the injury, her faceplate was up close to where the energon was leaking so she could spray a glob of tar-like ooze onto it. The inky black stuff smelled like the Pits, yet it didn't burn. Instead, it began to dry, coagulating into a rubbery glue that sealed up the damages where it was applied and stopping the leaks.

[sparkflower-fields]

Skyfire was content to his fate, closing his eyes and allowing the chill to overtake his frame…

That is until something hot and wet was hurled onto his body, right into his open wound.

“W-Wait a minute—“ His optics shot open, reaching to pull at the awful smelling goo, when he realized it had stopped the leak in his frame. He blinked a few times before looking to the odd bot that was next to him.

“I… thank you.” He said, still shocked. After a moment of processing he smiled, moving to stand and shake the other’s servo.

“I suppose introductions are in order now, since you saved my spark. I am Skyfire, Autobot scientist.” He held out his energon covered servo, before noticing it was filthy and offered the other one, his smile firmly in place.

[dollofiacon-artandarchive]

The femme smiled back at him, both spindly servos reaching out to gingerly shake his extended one.

"I'm happy that I could help," She chirped, her unblinking optics flickering once before her expression changed to one of surprise. "It's nice to meet you, Skyfire... I wasn't expecting to find a scientist all the way out here. I don't think we've met back on Cybertron either..."

"My name is Mourningstar," She introduced herself, grinning once again; though her optics dilated slightly within their hollow black sockets, almost looking up at him with an instinctive trust now that she was aware of his status. "Here, you need to refuel," Mourningstar chirped, fully attentive and still poised to assist. "I can help clean up."

Reaching into her subspace, she fished out a few Energon cubes and a clean cloth to hand to him. Not even a moment later, her lanky limbs contorted and her chassis shifted into a strange quadrupedal stance; her long neck craning her helm close to the stained snow before a long, black glossa protruded from between her lips, and began to slurp up the mess.

[sparkflower-fields]

“I typically enjoy this sector of Earth more than others. Unfortunately I was caught out here by some Decepticons. They shot me down and left me for dead, so I think we are safe for the time being.” He smiled pleasantly at the other.

“I study the creatures and the environment out here. They just are quite fascinating to me.” He looked around at the snowy terrain before frowning a little.

“I was attempting to land here to observe the creatures known as penguins, but it seems my crash landing scared them all off.” He blinked with wide optics as she offered energon cubes and a means to clean himself up. He hadn’t expected to be able to refuel for a while, let alone right now. But he supposed it was a reason to be grateful that the other was kind enough to share.

Skyfire gratefully took the cloth and the energon that was offered to him, nodding slightly in response to her insistence and watched with curious optics as the other’s frame shifted and contorted.

And then she began cleaning up his spilled energon, with what he assumed was her glossa.

He had to admit, this being he had found himself with was odd, but he was no stranger to odd things. As a scientist, odd things were revered. So despite his surprise, he was happy to simply clean up, refuel, and watch his newfound ally.

Skyfire began gently cleaning himself up to the best of his abilities, being careful of the hardened putty that filled the cavity of his chassis, preventing further bleed out. It would not be wise to knock it free after the other worked hard to clean up the mess he had made.

Once he found himself sufficiently clean, he cracked open an energon cube and drank deep of the lifeblood, already feeling his senses sharpen.

[servusendura]

Tailgate is pushed into view and his holding a bouquet of very lovely flowers and has a tiny bow tie on his chassis.

The mini looks nervous, but holds out the flowers with a card that says:

For the prettiest bot I know. Love,

Tailgate

“Tailgate.”

Cyclonus turns away from her usual brooding spot at the window to watch the minibot, having caught his reflection bouncing off the reinforced glass, but the sudden gift of… some sort of produce… getting shoved her way has the starfighter cocking her helm in curiosity.

She sighs and kneels down to be closer to his level, gently curling her talons around Tailgate’s extended servo with the card. Sternly, she insists, “You needn’t try to bribe me with things you think I would like or might want to hear. I know I am not…”

A mild grimace, the corners of her mouth dipping down.

“…Always easy to understand. But I promise, I am content when you seek me out for companionship.”

[sparkflower-fields]

“I know, Cy.” He said softly, suddenly feeling a little silly, but attempting to be confident.

“I just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone, and that I am here. Even if I’m not as cool to be around as you are. I appreciate you.” He set the flowers down and held Cyclonus’ servo with both of his little ones, looking up into her optics.

“I enjoy your lovely singing, and listening to your stories. You inspire me to do better and put my best pede forward.” He puffed his chassis up a little, trying to stand a little taller.

“Not to mention… I feel like you are the only one who understands me. Like, really understands me. And you don’t just see a mini with not enough experience to understand things.” He rambled a little now, his face plate blushing over his battle mask, his optics beginning to spark behind his visor as his anxiety continued to flare up.