Megatron would be a horrible sire, so let’s make it angsty!
✦ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ✦
Before the war, Megatron was nothing. He was a slave, an easily replaceable piece inside a much bigger machine. He wished for freedom, he craved for rights, and he wanted the system that screwed him over turn to slag and mold into something new. Of course, this was just a dream, a lucid dream, something he knew that wouldn’t happen any time soon.
Or at least, that is what he thought.
After the creation of his sparkling, this feeling emerged again. He didn’t want them to suffer like he did. The sparkling deserved to run around freely, not mine until their gears ached. He felt like he had to do something, and as he looked around at the tired bots surrounding him, he thought: “They all deserve freedom.”
His offspring was the final push to make him revolt. Megatron already had that small ember festering inside his spark, but when he realized that life wasn’t worth living like this, he became bold. He became aware. And he rebelled.
His offspring was a child when he fought, and a fresh young adult when he turned to the dark side. Megatron offered them a place at his side, but was shocked when they defied and opposed him.
“Sire, you are becoming the very thing you swore to destroy! Why are you doing this? You know it isn’t right!” His child exclaimed, their blue optics sharp as they stood against him.
He wasn’t the same mech his child knew. Even as they protested against his actions, he continued to do worse. Eventually, they gave up, and faked their death. Megatron, although evil at a glance, was saddened, even though he wouldn’t show it. That sadness eventually turned to anger, and that anger was used to create the war.
While the war waged, his kin lingered. They helped the wounded left to die in the battlefield, and those who died never to return were given proper burials. The kin made sure that they were never spotted, as it could blow their cover.
They managed to do their self acclaimed job well, until it all abruptly stopped.
The bodies weren’t piling up anymore, the autobots were tranquil; the decepticons themselves ceased to exist, or at least remained hidden.
They wanted to know what was going on, in return, they got what they wanted. Unfortunately it came in the form of a bittersweet reunion, and a painful wound to the side.
Hurt and without communication, they expected to die; not to be saved by a wacky red and yellow mech with too much swagger and hidden insecurity. It was awkward when the captain stepped in the ship with them in tow. There was a prolonged optic contact between blue optics and red optics. Even as they were being carried to medbay, Megatron’s optics lingered with surprise, hurt, and shock.
He came to visit once they were properly taken cared of. He shuffled awkwardly on his pedes, while his now fully grown sparkling was observing the ground with much interest.
Eventually, one spoke up, “You woke from your stupor.” They say, referring to waking up from his want of power.
The other sighed. “It was due.” He admitted shamefully.
“At least you’re back. I say I owe you an explanation.”
“And I… owe you an apology.”
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I had this idea stuck in my head for a while now. I guess I’m weak for potential father figures that have gone too far, lol.
