oh, revel, may i ask for some megatron crumbs? please? 🥺
Sure! 🔞 MDNI Mass displaced mech 🌶️
Help Pt 2
Megatron x Reader
• Servos flexing against the fragile warmth of your hand as you lead him to a door, your field is just right there. And it’s a shock when he didn’t think organics even had fields at all. Yours a confusing tangle of anxiety and resignation as his optics flick to that collar. Studying the ornate way it’s made. Like it’s supposed to be decorative even as it’s obvious what it is. A shackle. Following you inside the room, he looks around at the soft, padded furniture. “Where do you want me?” You ask and he vents softly. Hurting for release, but not liking this. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen your species before,’ he finally says, though truth be told, he’s not paid much attention to organics. But he’d have remembered a species so uncannily similar to his own. “I’m-” you answer and the translator doesn’t even try with whatever you just said so all he heard was soft chirping. Meaning your species isn’t even registered. Probably deliberately so you have no rights. Frown deepening, he immediately misses the scandalous feel of your unfiltered field when you pull your hand away.
• This isn’t how this usually goes. Normally they just tell you where they want you, do their thing, and leave. You’re not sure what to do with a customer that wants to talk. It’s easier if it’s impersonal. If it’s just a job. “I can request a drink if you’d like?” You try, turning your back on him to touch the datapad to wake up the screen and you startle when his servos touch your collar. One hooking under it to lift it away from your skin to break the connection. And when he growls, you have no idea what he’s saying. “It stays on. I need it,” you say anyway knowing he won’t understand you either until he lets go so the device can resync. Because the gaudy, ugly thing is your only lifeline even as it tracks you. You could try to break it, to remove it and run. But you’re still trapped in a strange place far from home with aliens that can’t understand you. You’ve done the math and know your odds of surviving are better here. He’s just frowning as he studies you and the collar, making you anxious that he might break it. Reaching up, you lay a hand on his and he rumbles, lip lifting as he growls nonsense. But he lets the collar drop back against your neck.
• Staring at your tiny hand on his even when he’s mass displaced, he vents. And you’re smiling again as you back up a step like he made you nervous. Watching you move to pick up a little container, you look over your shoulder at him. “Do you want a certain scenario? Or for me to pick?” You ask, obviously nervous now. ‘How did you end up here?’ Because he’s almost positive that he already knows. One of your shoulders lifts and falls in a strangely Cybertronian shrug as you unscrew the lid of the container, fingers dipping inside before you rub whatever the stuff is between your thighs and your scent shifts. Clearing his vents, he rumbles. “I don’t honestly know,” you admit softly as he tries to ignore what’s obviously an aphrodisiac that you’re touching yourself with. “I came to in a cage and I was approached by the proprietor,” you add, tone low and nervous. Like you’re not supposed to tell him this.
• “Stop,” he growls, catching your wrist before you can dab more of the drug on yourself. ‘It helps,’ you whisper. Because it makes this easier when he’s obviously hesitant. Maybe nervous like you are because you’re interested and he seems to be, too. This stuff affects most species, but you have no idea if it works on whatever he is. Compared to a lot of the species you deal with, he’s at least handsome. More familiar to what you’re used to. It doesn’t hurt that he’s been gentle so far like he really is afraid of breaking you, that he’s talking to you instead of just wanting you to assume the position. Even if he’s just frowning down at you right now. ‘Wait,’ you protest when he bares his denta and reaches up to deliberately pinch the back of your collar until it falls off and you awkwardly catch it, panic lifting through you. When he leans down and growls, you have no idea what he’s saying. Pressing the collar against your neck to try and force it to resync, all you hear is his angry sounding growling. Did he break it completely? You’ll be the one that has to pay for it and you know it. That it’ll be added to your debt. And you suck in a breath when he grabs you and swings you over his shoulder, butt in the air as he carries you out of your apartment and into the lobby.
• “How much?” He snarls, servos flexing on you and furious as you anxiously chirp and warble at him, still clutching your collar and the proprietor turns on his spidery legs, looking comically surprised. ‘Sir?’ The alien asks as you chirp louder. “How much to buy out their contract?” He demands and the alien eyes him. ‘You don’t seem to understand. They’re a high demand exotic. I couldn’t possibly part with them.’ Cannon powering up as he smiles, he adjust you on his shoulder to make you squeak as he tries to ignore the way his spike is throbbing after you’d applied that stuff to yourself to make your scent become all liquid heat. “You don’t seem to understand. They’re coming with me,” he counters and the alien fidgets on his extra limbs, staring at the cannon attached to his arm. ‘Ah.’
Hi there.. I really love your comfort fics, they honestly really help me out when I’m struggling. I cannot thank you enough. I experience really bad paranoia and nightmares. Gotten to the point where I didn’t sleep for a while because of small noises coming from around the house. But I’m getting much better! :) I’d be super grateful if you wrote an IDW Optimus or LL Megatron fic. Idk, they seem like the safest bots to be around considering how strong they are. Either of them sound like a good option imo, gentle giants !!
(Well- I guess Megatron became one EVENTUALLY lol)
Sure!
Care
MTMTE Megatron x Reader
• Startling awake with your heart pounding, you have no idea what you heard. The engines of the ship throttling up or down, maybe? Have no idea how the alien engines work, but they make thrums of noise that buzz through the whole ship and set you on edge. Maybe it’s the fact that you don’t know a good, alien engine noise from a catastrophic one, but it’s hard to sleep here. Shivering as your skin crawls, you try to convince yourself that the noise is a perfectly normal, alien spaceship sound.
• Clearing his vents when you start trembling against him, your anxiety pulled him out of recharge when it spilled into him. Again. Reaching to drape an arm around you, he tugs you back into his frame. “Nightmare?” He asks as he finds one of your hands and you blow out a breath. ‘I guess,’ you mumble when his servos rub against your fingers. “It’s hard to adjust to living on a ship, but it gets easier,” he says, guessing that’s the issue since space makes you nervous. They’d lost artificial gravity for a breem at one point and the humans had almost all panicked at the sensation. You’d curled into a ball and screamed as you slowly spun.
• Staring at his big hand holding yours, you make yourself nod. Because it’s better than trying to explain that the ship makes weird noises that freak you out at night. Embarrassed, you feel his chin brush against the top of your head and you try to relax. “Was it hard for you?” You ask and his cheek rubs against yours, a thigh sliding against your own. Like the way his big frame wraps around you when he’s mass displaced. That his big hand can span your middle completely. ‘No, but it was the first time I’d ever been truly free,’ he says. ‘The Nemesis allowed me to go where I wanted. To choose my own path forward.’
• Remembers how angry he’d been at that point. That he’d already decided that the only way to change things was to tear the old system down completely. To remove those in power by force. Feels you wiggle back against him like you’re trying to get closer and his arm tightens around you. Because you don’t sleep well unless he holds you. “I hate the sounds the ship makes in the quiet,” you whisper, sounding embarrassed. Chuckling, his lips brush your earlobe. ‘What about the sounds I make?’ He asks and you huff out a breath.
• “I like those sounds,” you admit. The low rumbling of his internal systems, the thrum of his spark, those are your white noises. They’re familiar and you need them. They relax you. Sound and feel like home because they’re him. ‘They’re not that different from the noises the Lost Light makes,’ he says in your ear and you frown. Know he’s right, but those sounds are completely different. They’re not his sounds. “It’s not the same at all,” you mutter and he rumbles, sounding amused as his lips brush your neck.
which mech do you think would absolutely lose it if you called them a good boy?
Swerve or Roddy would. Megatron would punish you for it, but it would be absolutely worth it. Minimus would love it, but be a flustered mess about it. I keep thinking about that Thundercracker dealing with a rut cycle ask. What if they did have those cycles extremely infrequently, but once they hit, they were a force to be reckoned with? 🔞 MDNI Mass displaced mech 🌶️
Help
Megatron x Reader
• Venting irritably as his fans cycle higher to try and deal with the increased heat permeating his frame, he looks around. Plating lifting aggressively as the alien scents and noises of the spacious building distract him, he frowns down at the proprietor as the organic sweeps three sets of clawed hands. “Discretion is our promise,” the alien simpers. “I think I have a species that you’ll find compatible to your needs. Newly discovered.” Rumbling, it’s mortifying to even be in this position. But this isn’t exactly a problem he can deal with on his own. Trying to just leaves him unsatisfied and aching. ‘I’m not interested in organics,’ he growls, lips curling.
• “Unfortunately, I don’t have any Cybertronians or similar lifeforms in my employ. I could try to arrange for one, but it would take time,” the proprietor says and his servos flex. Time means waiting and suffering. Because once his rut cycle starts, the only way to find any relief is to overload inside a partner. His own hand can’t even take the edge off the need. ‘Show me what you have,’ he snarls, reminding himself that fragging an organic wouldn’t be the end of the world. No one would even need to know. And razing the alien brothel to the ground wouldn’t help him at all.
• Looking up when a chime rings through your apartment, you want to groan. Because you’re being summoned. Still aren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up here lightyears from your own world and no way back. Unable to speak and understand the language, terrified of the aliens around you. You’d come to in a cage with several other humans only to get dragged out alone. Fitted with a decorative collar with your owner’s name that also doubles as a translator. And you’d been given a choice. Work to pay your owner back for your cost plus interest to earn your freedom or be sold outright as a pet, toy, or food. Really, there was only one choice. It’s not awful work considering your kind is a novelty and not in high demand. Which unfortunately means it’s going to take forever to pay off your debt. Pulling on a sheer coverup that doesn’t actually cover anything, you stride down to the lobby.
• “I need to overload inside them. Is there an extra charge for that?” He growls, hating everything about this. How impersonal it all feels. ‘No fee,’ the alien assures him, hands sweeping as a door opens and an organic creature steps through. The alien tiny compared to him even mass displaced, but he immediately realizes why the proprietor chose them. They’re curiously Cybertronian in form, face, hands, body. Soft, but so eerily similar. ‘Hello,’ you say and there’s a strange dissonance between the sound and the movement of your lips and his plating lifts as his optics land on the collar. On the tag with the proprietor’s information. Knowing you’re likely chipped too so you can be retrieved if you’re stolen. Or if you run.
• He’s intimidating looking as he frowns down at you, his body all hard lines and angles. Living metal. Heart racing as you force a smile, you shrug off the coverup to pool around your bare feet and wait for him to say yes or no to you. Most aliens are curious about you, but end up refusing you. Saying you’re too strange. Some like that you’re exotic and alien. And you’ve learned a lot more about alien genitalia over the months than you ever wanted to know. He has a handsome face at least, you decide as you steal glances at him when he circles you. “Too fragile,” he growls and his deep voice is a pleasant surprise. ‘You won’t break me,’ you say and he hesitates like he didn’t expect you to answer not the proprietor.
• What even are you? The way you scent is intriguing, not unpleasant. That collar bothers him, though. Had known things like this happened in the outer worlds, but it lands a little too close to home. Reminds him of his past, of the mines. Of having no say, no choice in his own life. Spike pulsing behind his plating, that ache to release is almost all consuming. And you boldly meet his optics like you’re not afraid. “Do you want me?” He demands, reaching out a hand and you hesitate a klik before laying a warm hand in his and your field is a shock as it sinks into him. ‘Of course,’ you answer, but he knows it’s only what you’ve been told to say. Servos gripping your hand, you’re smiling up at him and leading him back the way you’d come.
oh my god my old account got nerfed, i became too powerful. It's transman himbo tho, i haven't been on tumbler in like 2 months i have SOOOO much to catch up on. I've missed reading your stories :( excited tho because i get to binge them all now. My 22nd birthday is coming up I can't believe its been a year since i found your blog! thank you for feeding the fandom Revel and thank you for reading our silly asks
Hey! Welcome back and happy birthday!
Warm
ES Megatron x Reader
• “What are you thinking about?” Turning at the low rumble of his voice, you smile as you listen to the rain coming down just outside the shelter. Shoulder lifting slightly in a shrug, you slowly inhale. ‘How different it is here,’ you admit. Because it’s strange to not have to worry about work, rent, anything really. It’s just you and him. Hadn’t really understood how stressed you were until meeting him.
• “Different in what way?” He asks slowly, wondering if you like it here or if you miss other humans, having your human things. ‘It’s peaceful. I feel like I can breathe,’ you answer, a shoulder lifting in a shrug and he relaxes. Can’t help but expect that eventually you’ll ask him to take you back. That this place isn’t suitable for humans. Isn’t enough. That he won’t be enough.
• “It’s yours as long as you want it to be,” he replies and you smile at how serious he sounds. ‘What if I never wanted to leave?’ You ask, looking up at him and he glances at you, his optics studying you. ‘What if you grow tired of me?’ Hate that insecure voice in the back of your head that whispers that he will. That you’re always too much. That you’re fun until people really get to know you and then they drift away.
• “What if you grow tired of me?” He counters and you make a face. “I’m blunt. I can be too intense. Quick to lose my temper,” he adds and you lean over to rest your head against his arm. ‘Well, I second guess everything and sabotage myself and my relationships,’ you tell him and he smiles faintly. “Sounds like we’re meant to be.” Rumbling as you huff out a soft laugh, he studies the storm outside the shelter.
• “Do you think this can really work? Long term?” You ask and he clears his vents. ‘I want it to,’ he says to make you smile, because it’s what you want to hear. That he wants you here. Wants to try to make this work. “Me, too,” you admit as thunder rumbles in the distance. Never really had a relationship like this. One where there were no expectations, no demands. Where you could just be you and you wouldn’t be judged. And you don’t want to lose this.
Megs has upgraded from my last shared pic. His mighty mount, Miss Toast.
Desperately hoping for an update on Meg’s self insert fanfic Soft storyline. 😂
Asking here but not sure where it’s going next sooo do you! Haha
Megatron and his big… yeah 🤣
I’m in Atlanta for the night.
Soft AU- Literary Pt 5
Megatron x Reader
• Jaw working as he watches you run, he’s striding after you. Unable to help himself when you’re triggering his instincts. Making him need to chase. Especially when you look back and see him following you. Hates losing control like this. That you affect him like this. Rumbling as his lips twitch, you keep jogging away. Making it impossible to let you go. Can’t stop remembering how you’d scented. All heat and need.
• And he’s chasing you. Face heating, you move a little faster as you round a corner. What’s he want now? Does he just delight in messing with you? He has to have something better to do. Like writing raunchy smut of you and him apparently. Shouldn’t be thinking about that. Shouldn’t be curious at all. Why is he still following you? Is he walking faster? Catching his optic, he smirks at you and your heart goes racing.
• You look back to nervously meet his optics and that heat shivers through him to make his plating feel restrictive. Rumbling as he tracks you, he chuckles when you almost run into another human. Servos flexing, writing out his fantasy is one thing, but he wants more. Wants the real thing. Following you around a corner, his lips curl when you end up cornering yourself in a dead end. “Why are you chasing me?” You demand, chin lifting.
• Backing up as he chuckles, you tense when he mass shifts suddenly to make your skin prickle. “I thought you were curious about what I was writing?” He growls and his deep voice sinks into you. “Perhaps you could go over it with me. Lend your human perspective.” Flustered as he approaches and you back up, your back hits the fence and you tense. “We could act out a few scenes I’m having trouble with.”
• Venting to pull your scent deep, he smirks at how flustered you look. “What kind of scenes?” You ask, voice shaky and he steps closer, resting his hand on the fence by your head. Rumbling as he leans into your space, his lips twitch. ‘I’m having some trouble with how the love interest would react to something like this,’ he growls, refusing to be embarrassed. Free hand resting on your hip to tug you into his frame, his head lowers so his lips can brush your ear and you shiver against him. ‘What do you think should happen next?’
so i had a random thought come to me. a total what if scenario and completely noncanon to Across the Divide, but Megatron being found by Optimus and co
But Optimus sees that not only has he made a good life for himself, he sees that he has a family
maybe “change” his sentence from imprisonment to being sent into exile, wink wonk
JUST AN IDEA I WANTED TO SHARE! Hope you have a good day!!
.⋅˚₊‧ mtmte megatron x human fem reader
• across the divide — spin off • 3.1k words
helloooo!! this is such a cute idea. ppl asked for brainstorm getting to meet the family too, so i’ve developed on your ask to include some other mechs >:)
"Go away! Leave me alone!" You shout over your shoulder as you scurry through the meadow at the back of your house.
"Wait! Littl'un!" Rodimus calls from behind, picking up his pace. Optimus and Brainstorm follow behind, and before you know it, they're circling in front of you.
You stagger back, your breath hitching as though you're in some kind of imminent danger. The three of them would never inflict harm on you, but your concern lies with Megatron and what it means for him that the three of them have shown up.
"Why would you come here?!" You shout at Brainstorm, "You know I needed this! Why have you come here to ruin it?!"
Tears bloom over your waterline as your blood pressure rises. Brainstorm looks taken aback to be the one at the receiving end of your upset, but he can't say he's too surprised. You are the closest to him out of the trio, you probably feel the most comfortable with him.
"It's— It's not like that!" Brainstorm adamantly defends.
"I want you gone from here! From this place! You can't be here!" You shout and cry.
Optimus and Rodimus watch on as you have your meltdown directed towards Brainstorm. Evidently, you are pregnant and are probably fearing what consequences will come from their arrival. If only you would let them get a word in, this could be settled.
"Listen to me—"
"No! Because if you've found us, then that means anyone can. I just want to live in peace."
You barge past them, not letting them corner you anymore. They go easier than you thought they would, witnessing how you storm off from them. You journey through the field to your home, clearly not in your right mind. All you want is to go back to Megatron, not thinking that they'll likely follow you home, and you'll lead them right to him.
The trip you take home is fast and frantic, your mind on a single track. Your heart is pattering wildly, and your breathing is frenzied. You're clenching your jaw so tight that you're sure to give yourself a headache any moment now.
When your home comes into view, your pace quickens until you reach your back door. You grab the handle, opening the door hastily before slipping inside and slamming the door shut behind you. You throw your bag down on the kitchen counter before threading both hands through the roots of your hair, staring so fiercely at the ground that you might burn a hole in it.
"Little Light?" You hear Megatron's voice call from the living room.
You shudder a gasp as you try to release the high anxiety trilling through you, looking through the doorway to the living room.
"What's the matter?" He asks as he exits the living room, crossing the hall to enter the kitchen. You look like you've seen a ghost, frightened half to death. You look behind you out of the kitchen window, seeing the three familiar figures approaching closer.
"Go, go, go, get in the living room," you demand, closing the gap between you almost inhumanely fast. You press against his chassis with urgency, but your strength is trifling in comparison to his own. He peers down at you with bewilderment, trying to piece together what has got you so flustered.
"Tell me what's wrong, Starlight," he implores, grabbing your wrists from his chassis in hopes of grounding you.
"Fuck!" You curse, "I'm such an idiot! I led them right to you!"
"Who?!" Megatron presses beseechingly, unable to make sense of what you're talking about.
"Th— The others! Rodimus, Brainstorm! Optimus!" You prattle frantically, "They're here!"
Megarton glances up to look out the window, seeing those familiar colour palettes close in on his home. He is not struck with nearly as much fear as you are, but he doesn't foresee this being good. He pulls you into an embrace, wrapping his strong arms around you for comfort. He kisses the top of your head, shushing you gently.
"Starlight," he voices, "I need you to stay calm. You're not thinking straight, okay? I need you to find your centre again."
He pulls back a fraction, using one servo to tip your face up towards him by your chin. He gazes into your frenetic eyes, trying to lull you into calmer tides. "Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. In for four seconds, out for eight seconds."
You follow his instructions, trying to shift the looming feeling of dread that draws closer and closer to you.
"That's it," Megatron commends lightly, "Just like that. Keep doing that for me, okay?"
You nod, feeling the terror expelling from you through each exhale.
"Stardust is in the living room. Go and sit with her."
"No—"
"Please. For me. She'll be confused and frightened by new people, she needs her mother there to be her sense of safety."
Relenting, you heed his request. You focus on your breathing as you slip out of Megatron's hold, vanishing into the living room to reunite with your daughter.
Just as you leave, the three Autobots arrive at the back door. A knock sounds from it, and Megatron steels his resolve before stalking through the kitchen to open it.
Optimus stands in the middle, with Brainstorm and Rodimus on either side of him. His optics meet Optimus' only, but he stands broadly in the doorway to deny entry.
"We owe them an apology," Rodimus speaks first, not even bothering with pleasantries. Megatron supposes he isn't entirely deserving of them. "I think we gave them a real fright. We didn't mean it!"
"Why are you here?" Megatron asks, though the answer may seem obvious.
"Would it trouble you to let us in so that we can explain?" Optimus speaks.
Megatron looks over his shoulder in the direction of the living room, knowing that everything he holds dear sits in there.
"You've not started off on the best ped. You have frightened my wife," Megatron informs.
"You wanna talk about not starting off on the best ped?" Brainstorm asks, his voice full of sass.
Optimus glares at Brainstorm, silencing him. Antagonisation is not what any of them are here for, but Brainstorm seems to forget himself.
"I'll allow you to come in, but please be mindful of my family," Megatron says, stepping to the side.
All three of them ponder that word. Family. Megatron and family don't seem like two words that should be in the same sentence.
Optimus enters first, followed by Rodimus and then Brainstorm. Megatron shuts the door behind them and then takes the lead in bringing them to the living room.
You hear a group of footsteps through your home, only serving to make you feel more nauseous than you already are. Your daughter is sitting between your legs on the floor playing with her train set.
Like soldiers filing in, Megatron and the others enter. Your energy is tense and on edge as your eyes flit between them all.
"It's alright, Starlight," Megatron says.
"I'd like to apologise to you," Optimus starts. Your daughter looks over to the strangers in her house, crawling closer to you to splay her arms over your thigh.
"Mama," she warbles. Rather than cuddling up to you, she crawls awkwardly over your thigh. The room is silent as your child crawls towards the mechs, specifically going straight to Brainstorm.
You stand up, almost immediately magnetising to Megatron's side. You keep a keen eye on your daughter, who sits by Brainstorm's leg, slapping gently against it for his attention.
The 'Bots in the room have no idea what to do or say. Brainstorm observes with caution, as if he's never encountered something so young before.
"They're going to take you from me. From us," you speak to Megatron with worry.
Megatron cups the side of your head with one servo, smoothing his other over your growing baby bump. You're staring at the trio with sheer panic, your nerves through the roof.
"Stress is not good for the baby," Megatron reasons softly, "Let me deal with this, hm?"
He kisses your temple in hopes of reassuring you. You hold onto the wrist of his servo currently placed on your stomach before you drag your sights from your guests to your husband.
"I'm not leaving," you whisper with glassy eyes.
"And Megatron's not leaving, either," you snap at the group.
"Please," Optimus speaks, raising a servo to reach out for you. You pull back, holding Megatron tighter. The Prime retreats, renavigating the situation. "We have no intention of taking Megatron away."
"Dada," your baby verbalises, crawling away from Brainstorm to her father.
"Come here, Stardust," Megatron says as he crouches down, slipping out of your hold. He picks her up, resting her against his chassis before standing again.
"If you have no intention of taking him, then why are you here?" You retort with caution.
Your child starts to teethe on the edge of Megatron's chassis, either looking to feed or looking to relieve the discomfort in her gums from her baby teeth growing in.
"Please stop eating your father," you grumble, reaching over to the table behind you to get one of her teething toys. You rattle it, trying to present it to her. She looks at you out of the corner of her little eyes, but she has no interest in what you're offering.
"She's okay," Megatron reassures you, bouncing your daughter lightly. "She's not hurting me."
He knows you're fussing because you're frightened. After all, the last time you saw these three, Megatron was sentenced to life imprisonment. You breaking him out of jail is an equally heinous crime.
"We came here to see if the two of you were here," Optimus starts to explain.
"But now that we know, we can lead the others away from here. Tell them that the planets been searched and you were no where to be seen," Rodimus expands on Optimus' point.
"How am I supposed to trust that?" You reply, your words riddled with hesitation.
"Do you think I'd lie to you?" Rodimus says with a crease in his optical ridges, pained that you'd think so little of him.
"I— I don't know," you hush, looking over to Megatron again. "But I can't risk it. I'm happy. We're happy. We have a family, a community, a good life."
Optimus' optics look between the two of you, seeing your closeness. Watching how Megatron coddles and soothes his young child, and ensures the comfort of you and your unborn baby. It's not the Megatron he knew, and he can hardly imagine this Megatron doing half the things his history speaks of. Optimus never got to see the relationship between you bloom. Any Cybertronians knew of you, knew that you were the organic to open Megatron's optics, but Optimus never could have imagined it would go this far.
"Megatron," the Prime announces, "Can I speak with you? In private?"
Your lover looks away from your daughter to meet Optimus' optics. You shiver out of fear for the worst, wrapping your arm around his to keep him close. He nods towards Optimus before peering down at you, placing a warm servo against the side of your face.
"Can you trust me, Little Light?"
"It's not you that I don't trust," you reply.
"Please," he hushes lowly, "Just this once."
You run your fingers up his arm strut, glancing between him and your daughter. She coos happily, gnawing away at the metal of Megatron's chassis.
"Okay," you whisper before loosening your hold on him, motioning for him to hand your daughter over. He slips her into your arms, and you rest her against you with her head on your shoulder.
You take a few steps towards Optimus, gazing up at him with a serious expression. You push your finger against his chassis window before speaking. "You better bring him back to me."
"I will. You have my word," he answers.
"Come, Optimus. We can talk outside," Megatron says, leading the way to the back patio. The two mechs vanish into the kitchen, leaving you in the lounge with Brainstorm and Rodimus.
You sigh, expelling your fears. You rub your daughter's back as you place little kisses on her head. Just like with Megatron, she starts to rub her sore gums against your shoulder, but don't even flinch.
"Sooo…" Brainstorm pipes up, "Looks like I was right, huh?"
"Come again?" You reply with an air of fatigue, confusion being pointed at your best friend.
"With the pregnancy," he declares as if it were obvious. Walking over to you, he places a servo on your swollen stomach. "I told you before that I thought it might be possible with Megatron as long as he was in his human form. And look at that, so successful that you're already pregnant with baby number two."
You huff a laugh, glancing over at Rodimus, who seems utterly bewildered that such a thing is even possible.
"And your genes didn't stand a chance, did they?" Rodimus says, "She's Megatron's, no doubt about it."
"Yep, I grew her for nine months just for her to look exactly like a mini Megatron," you respond with a warm smile. Brainstorm rubs your stomach, almost fascinated by it. It's his first time actually seeing an organic carry their offspring, and he already has a million questions.
"Would you like to hold her?" You ask Brainstorm.
"M—Me? Hold your sparkling? Are… Are you sure?" He stammers, nervous at the idea.
You giggle in response, nodding your head. "Of course. You're basically her honorary uncle."
"Oh, Primus. I've known her for 10 minutes and I'm already being given uncle responsibilities," he responds in jest as you hand her to him. She goes happily, warbling in her baby talk.
"Yeah, I wish I knew what you were saying," he says to her. She coos some more, stretching out her little hands to his faceguard. She taps on it, exploring what it is.
As Brainstorm starts a monologue on how important his faceguard is, Rodimus approaches you.
"Sorry for being so defensive and cagey earlier," you express to the fiery mech. "I just panicked."
"A totally reasonable reaction, littl'un. I don't blame you," he sympathises warmly, placing a servo on your shoulder. "I was being serious, by the way. We'll throw everyone who is still searching for Megatron off the trail of this planet. You know that they'd take Optimus' word for it."
You're distracted midway through your conversation when you notice Brainstorm transforming his digits into equipment and tools he's likely to use in the lab, trying to entertain your little one with them.
"Brainstorm, please don't teach my daughter how to build weapons of mass destruction," you groan, not entirely sure what else you expected.
"What?!" He exclaims, "I wasn't!"
"Then what are you doing?"
"Being a fun, cool uncle!"
"You can be a fun, cool uncle using the mountain of toys Megatron needlessly spoils her with," you say, pointing towards the many boxes of toys in the corner of the room.
"Ugh," he scoffs before looking at your daughter, who is giddy with excitement. "Your mama is so boring! I don't know how you put up with them!"
Brainstorm moves over to the box of toys, holding her with one arm strut before fishing around for a fun-looking toy that will entertain them both. You roll your eyes affectionately, turning back to Rodimus to continue your conversation.
"Let's hope she doesn't grow up to be a crazed weapons engineer," Rodimus comments.
"If she does, I'll know who she learnt it from."
"I'm happy for you both, truly. Though, I do hope that Megatron gives you a break soon. It seems he still can't keep his servos off you," he jokes, nodding at your pregnancy bump.
"Yeah, well… He's such a good dad. When he asked for another, I basically folded immediately. I did make him wait over 800 years for a kid though, so I think it's only fair."
Rodimus laughs at that, watching how Brainstorm interacts with the tiny human. It's amusing to say the least.
"Megatron being described as a 'good dad' almost makes me feel like I'm in an alternate timeline," he sighs, "Never thought I'd see the day that the Big Bad himself settled down like this. Tranquil planet, a cosy cottage, a conjunx, sparklings. He really ended up with it all."
"Although I never met them, I like to wonder what his former Decepticons would think of this," you say.
"Shockwave basically went insane from how illogical it was that Megatron would change sides. So, having him settle down with an organic? I think that'd take out most of the Decepticon forces," he adds, "If only you'd come to us sooner, you could've saved us all a lot of trouble."
⋄✧⋄
"Please, sit," Megatron voices, motioning to one of the two chairs on the porch. The Prime takes him up on his offer, sitting on the wooden chair with a creak. Megatron sits on the other, resting as he gazes upon the beautiful pasture that stretches out at the back of your home.
"What your conjunx did was incredibly daring. I can't say I know many people who would risk something like that," Optimus says to open up the conversation.
Megatron vents a short laugh, watching as various wildlife hop through the fields.
"You're right, Optimus. What they did would be considered treason, no?"
"It would."
Your lover doesn't answer to that. He knew the risks of what you did the moment you did it, and yet, none of it stopped you. You knew what you wanted, and you were determined to make it happen, no matter what. Megatron won't be surprised if he leaves this day in chains.
"Despite that, I can see why they did it. I believe they knew what could be built with you. I can't fault them for striving for their dream," Optimus adds, "I am glad that you found the peace you'd been looking for for so many centuries."
"Never truly believed I'd get it," Megatron answers quietly, almost ashamed. "It was never Peace through Tyranny. It took me too long to learn that. I owe you an apology, Prime."
"I think we're past that now," Optimus replies.
A couple of moments pass where neither of them speaks. They simply bask in the chitter of wildlife, relish in the scent of summer that flourishes around them. If only their younger selves could see them now.
"I'm not going to take you from your family," the Prime declares, reinforcing what was said earlier. "I won't carry out your sentence. Instead, we could call it banishment."
Megatron peers over at his old nemesis, studying his optics for any hint of insincerity. He doesn't find it, not even a flicker.
"I hereby banish you from Cybertron, and you will remain here for the rest of your days," Optimus remarks, making it official.
Note: May have she/her lingering, but hopefully I fixed all that before getting this done and finishing. Another one that I’ve been picking at for over a few years.
___________
“Who is taking the fall for this time?” You spoke, looking through the cell bars toward the arena’s entrance. The high walls and transparent dome ensures that escape is futile. Masses of alien species fill any and all spaces up on the looming grand stands. All raging for the next big fight. Megatron stood beside you, sighing at the familiar sight having hopped to have left it in the past. Unknown to him, you as well had hoped that your past stayed as such.
“Rodimus.” Megatron finally responded, lightly huffing in annoyance. It was times like this that proved that the weaker energon he was given could ensured their deaths. Luckily he had more than enough experience to survive the longest here. Hopefully, long enough for the rest of the Lost Light to to figure out a rescue. Servo tightening subconsciously. He worried on coliseum’s rules. Fight till they all fall? Mostly likely, based on the fear that the seeker next to him tried to hide. Your field dimly pulsed with mixed emotions and familiarity. Focusing on that, had you been here before?
“So uh, how we all doing…? I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling ecstatic, you feeling it too?” Swerve trembled with a smile. They needn’t look at him to know he was terrified. They way both larger bots seemed to stare out to the crowds beyond the energon gates told him everything. Though he couldn’t help it, talking made him feel better. Maybe it helped them too? “I mean, can you hear the people out there? They already love us.”
You finally tore your optics away to look at Megatron, attempting to gauge his current feelings on the matter, It wasn’t looking good either. Knowing of him and his past fights, comparing to her own early life, only one of them would be getting out of this alive. And that was her trying to be optimistic. Truth is, they both knew he too would most likely will perish if he doesn’t give a good enough show. The fool’s energon he’s been forced to drink doesn’t help their chances.
Swerve swallowed dryly. No one was talking, it made the situation all the more difficult to calm down in. The crowds chanting for bloodshed, of spilt energon. His energon. Looking away, he stumbled over his peds away from the light of the entrance to the safety of the others also forced to eventually fight. Ratchet was here, Rung too. Cyclonus and unfortunately Tailgate too. Surprisingly Ultra Magnus was dragged here too by whatever light had nabbed them. More unfortunate for Magnus, he appeared without the Magnus Armor.
“No need to worry Swerve, I’m sure Megatron will find us way out.” Rung attempted to calm Swerve’s nerve, to quell the fear coursing through him.
“Hard to when Megs and Co. aren’t saying a word. They know something. They know we’re going to die here. Chopped up into tiny metal pieces and fed to what ever pets this place has!” The mini-bot was starting to lose his nervous grin, fear only rose to terror just thinking about what would happen to them. To him. He’s just a mini-bot. Tailgate couldn’t fight either. In fact, more than half of the stolen group was flightless. Well, sure they all could fight, but not to the degree that Megatron, Cyclonus or even their seeker can. Those 3 have much better odds at surviving than the rest of them. Of course Ultra Magnus could also survive, but not long without his armor.
“Does anyone even know how we got into this mess?” Ratchet grumbled, optics narrowing in annoyance. Arms crossed while he stood next to Minimus Ambus.
“My energon rations are on Brainstorm.” Minimus answered, also unhappy with the current situation. Despite his voice, it was obvious to everyone that he was uncomfortable being off-ship without his armor. The place was filthy.
“We’re gonna make it… right?” Tailgate peaked slightly from his where his helm was buried, looking up at Cyclonus. Said bot looked back down at him. Unable to tell Tailgate the truth. The older mech’s attention was drawn from his spark by the co-captain and fellow seeker’s approach.
“I’ve seen this sort of arena before.” You spoke, the both of them stopping short of the group. Wings flicking at an unwelcoming memory. Stay down. You tell yourself, to keep the painful start to your life buried deep. Megatron’s suspicions were made true at the seeker’s claim. Optics drifting slightly towards their wings. Their unknowing movement of them hinting that you knew more than you let on.
“That’s it! We’re gonna offline painfully and people will be happy about it. I can’t die yet!” Swerve freaked, spinning to face you and co-captain. “Please tell me you have a plan? I’m too young to die!” The bartender fell to his knee joints and wept. Covering his face with his servos.
“There’s an electrical dome above the arena that’s coursing with an energy similar to a EMP. Flying our way out will only short out our circuits. Leaving us vulnerable to attack.” You knew exactly what that dome was, having an unfortunate familiarity with it. Folding your arms and resting a curled digit on you chin, optics slightly closed in thought. Wings lowing slightly, then returning to its original position. There was a possible way of leaving, but a high likelihood that only one will make it. Both you and Megatron could tell with certainty. There was also another possibility of escaping, but that would rely heavily on if Megatron was able to be your battle partner and the stability of the arena’s walls.
“So no flying out” Tailgate warily asks, peeking part of his visor from Cyclonus’ neck to look at you.
“Only two of us can fly.” Ratchet joined the conversation. Mumbling some choices words.
“And I don’t appreciate being picked up for any reason.” Minimus added, crossing his arms.
The holding area grew quiet for a moment. Save for the light sobbing noise emanating from Swerve and the roaring of the crowds that demanded blood. Their collective demand for another show, though muted somewhat, made thinking of a plan more difficult than it should’ve been. The seeker still stood next to Megatron, his crimson optics softening. If you’ve seen the dome before, then perhaps you was here during the war? And if so, at what point?
“I do not wish to pry, but have you been in a place like this before?” Rung’s soft voice gently cuts through the group’s silence. Addressing the bot that was in deep thought. Taking off his glasses to give them a quick clean and returned them to their place. Gazing back up to her to give his full attention. The others gave their psychiatrist a strange look before turning their attention to the same bot, now wondering the same question. Rung spoke their name again, coaxing you from your deep thought.
It took you a moment to go over the request. Looking up, the seeker then looked to Rung. Recalling the question, quiet for a moment more then sighed. Those memories were painful enough as is, and if you were to, it would only drop current morale.
“Not here specifically, but I had been in a place like this. I am rather… intimate with the electrical dome.” Your servo slid up your face then back down to fully cross your arms. Grimacing when saying ‘intimate.’ “It’s a story I’d rather keep to myself.” Speaking as you look back to the cell’s exit. “There’s more important things to focus on now, than that of the past.”
Megatron followed your gaze back towards the mad crowd. You are right. Needing to plan something before anyone is picked, separated and torn to scrap. Before it’s too late for the others to aid them.
