My ACTUAL Megatron blog!!! SIDEBLOG to @miner16; SELECTIVE, Mutuals 21+ ONLY. Penned by Steel
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@silverxwords
My ACTUAL Megatron blog!!! SIDEBLOG to @miner16; SELECTIVE, Mutuals 21+ ONLY. Penned by Steel
Rules | Verses | Perma Starter Calls | TBD

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for those who feel like a monster … sentence starters
“You’re still human.”
“You’re not a monster.”
“I don’t see you as a monster.”
“You’re not what they say you are.”
“You are not what has been done to you.”
“Don’t listen to them. They don’t know you.”
“You’re better than you tell yourself you are.”
“The mistakes you’ve made don’t define you.”
“No matter what you are, you deserve to be loved.”
“No matter what you are, you deserve to be protected.”
“I know it’s hard to see past the guilt, but you’re a good person.”
“You look at yourself and see a monster… I see someone beautiful.”
“I’m not scared of you. And its sad that you seem scared of yourself.”
“When I look in your eyes, I don’t see a monster. I see someone in pain.”
“They’re scared of you… because they can’t see past what makes you different.”
“You might not be human anymore, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less of a person.”
“Is this why you don’t want to let anyone close? You’re afraid they’ll see you like some kind of monster?”
Mutuals, like or reply for an interaction with Megatron! Alternatively, HMU on Discord to plot a thing!
send 🗣 for my muse to blurt out the first thing they think of when they see your muse.
@sectyr liked x for a starter
"Airachnid." Megatron rumbles, low. He's watching her. "What is it?"

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Mutuals, like or reply for an interaction with Shattered Glass Megatron!
Alternatively, HMU on Discord to plot a thing!
Mutuals, like or reply for an interaction with Megatron! Alternatively, HMU on Discord to plot a thing!
Send 👑 if you like my writing! Bonus points if you tell me why!
Send Crown if you can't see the emoji.
send 🗣 for my muse to blurt out the first thing they think of when they see your muse.
@silverxwords replied...
Wouldn't Cybertronians succumb to rust?
( WHAT A SHAME THAT WOULD BE. )
( PATHETIC, CODDLED THINGS. )
"Are you implying that organics are superior?"
Megatron frowns.
( I'M SAYING THAT THOSE WHO WERE NOT HAND-SCULPTED BY AN OVERPROTECTIVE, OBSESSIVE MOTHER DON'T DIE AS FAST IF LEFT OUTSIDE FOR AN HOUR OR TWO. )
( IT'S OBSCENE HOW CODDLED YOU BRATS ARE. )
"An hour or two isn't going to kill anyone." Megatron responded, stiffly; offended. "I would hope my joint seals are more durable than that."

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@silverxwords replied...
Wouldn't Cybertronians succumb to rust?
( WHAT A SHAME THAT WOULD BE. )
( PATHETIC, CODDLED THINGS. )
"Are you implying that organics are superior?"
Megatron frowns.
@silverxwords replied...
what.
( UNICRON IS AWARE THAT IT IS OFTEN INCOHERANT TO YOUR MORTAL MINDS )
( BUT THIS SEEMS VERY EASY TO UNDERSTAND, YOU STINKY THING )
Scowling
He is not dirty. He's somewhat meticulous, actually.
Why is he tired?
ugh.
"My guess is because Nautica, Setsuna Amaou, and Silvermist just spent over a thousand hours, in shifts, removing a fucking singularity from your frame and sending it back to whatever hellverse Onyx got it out of in the first place. Nice to have you back, though."
Ravage was perched at the foot of the medical berth in her feline form, although she was wearing the elaborate necklace that Jazz and Soundwave had stolen for her several centuries ago around her pantherine neck.
".... Right." Megatron mutters, and lifts a servo to rub gingerly at his helm. "... It's disposed of, then? No one... No one is damaged for it?"
Another pause, a hesitation. "... Your injury. It was not-- I did not mean to damage you." Red optics flicker, watching her almost warily.
Ravage waves her paw at him. "I'm fine," she says. "Ratchet and Glit went through and replaced every single one of my spinal struts once they figured out how to recreate the damn alloy they're made of. But I'm still not allowed to go meteor surfing, which, if I recall correctly, was not an activity you suggested to me."
Her tail lashes the air, but not in a threatening way. It's 100% mischief. She leaps down off the foot of the bed and jumps up to his side, loafing and then leaning into the curve of his waist.
"Does Soundwave agree with that?" Megatron asks, but relents when she curls against him. The knot of guilt eases, ever so slightly, and he carefully rests a broad hand against her back. "I feel... lighter, with it gone." He adds.
"I'm Vox Destron, which means that my conjunx isn't actually the boss of me," Ravage says, learning into his hand. "Soundwave and I are getting along just fine, but if people start asking me to get his approval for things, I am going to have a problem with someone at some point in time. And Ratchet and Glit's medical opinions, which are the ones that count when it comes to my health, are that I'm fine. I'm glad you feel better. And before I forget, no-one was harmed."
She purrs encouragingly.
Megatron strokes her back, gently. "Good." He rumbles. "I am.... I am quite tired of bringing pain to others." He adds, rather vehemently. "And... You may tell Soundwave that I hold no more secrets."
"The medical team made sure of that," Ravage says, rubbing her face against him. "If you have any more secrets--and it would not surprise me if you did, because I know you--they are in your mind, not in your frame." She sighs, pressing up into his hand. "You love me?"
"... Yes." Megatron rumbles, quietly. "I... I do. And... I am thankful to Soundwave, for not demanding my exile or otherwise."
"He can't actually do that, you know," Ravage says, lifting her head to press it against his side. "This is an anarchist commune, he can't single-handedly ban you. Especially not while you owe community service." She sighs. "He's my conjunx, I sleep with him every night; you don't need to remind me that he exists."
"Hm." Megatron rumbles, though his tone is conciliatory. He reaches up to rub at his helm with his free hand, though he keeps stroking Ravage with the other. " ... Apologies. I'll... Refrain."
A pause. "Glit told me it would likely take time for my frame to recover from hosting an event horizon. Well... In between telling me other things."
"I just bet. I'm surprised he agreed to work on you--" Ravage's sigh turns into a laugh in spite of her heroic efforts to contain it. "Oh, Megatron. I'm sorry. But I'm not, because the way you played us against each other was beyond awful. My guess is that you're probably not on the guest list for the wedding, either. Warp says that Glit's going to wear uchikake and somehow they're getting TC in a suit."
" ... No. I imagine not." Megatron rumbles. "And, quite honestly, I would not go even if I were invited. I know I have few fans in that crowd. Perhaps I will read, instead."
Why is he tired?
ugh.
"My guess is because Nautica, Setsuna Amaou, and Silvermist just spent over a thousand hours, in shifts, removing a fucking singularity from your frame and sending it back to whatever hellverse Onyx got it out of in the first place. Nice to have you back, though."
Ravage was perched at the foot of the medical berth in her feline form, although she was wearing the elaborate necklace that Jazz and Soundwave had stolen for her several centuries ago around her pantherine neck.
".... Right." Megatron mutters, and lifts a servo to rub gingerly at his helm. "... It's disposed of, then? No one... No one is damaged for it?"
Another pause, a hesitation. "... Your injury. It was not-- I did not mean to damage you." Red optics flicker, watching her almost warily.
Ravage waves her paw at him. "I'm fine," she says. "Ratchet and Glit went through and replaced every single one of my spinal struts once they figured out how to recreate the damn alloy they're made of. But I'm still not allowed to go meteor surfing, which, if I recall correctly, was not an activity you suggested to me."
Her tail lashes the air, but not in a threatening way. It's 100% mischief. She leaps down off the foot of the bed and jumps up to his side, loafing and then leaning into the curve of his waist.
"Does Soundwave agree with that?" Megatron asks, but relents when she curls against him. The knot of guilt eases, ever so slightly, and he carefully rests a broad hand against her back. "I feel... lighter, with it gone." He adds.
"I'm Vox Destron, which means that my conjunx isn't actually the boss of me," Ravage says, learning into his hand. "Soundwave and I are getting along just fine, but if people start asking me to get his approval for things, I am going to have a problem with someone at some point in time. And Ratchet and Glit's medical opinions, which are the ones that count when it comes to my health, are that I'm fine. I'm glad you feel better. And before I forget, no-one was harmed."
She purrs encouragingly.
Megatron strokes her back, gently. "Good." He rumbles. "I am.... I am quite tired of bringing pain to others." He adds, rather vehemently. "And... You may tell Soundwave that I hold no more secrets."
"The medical team made sure of that," Ravage says, rubbing her face against him. "If you have any more secrets--and it would not surprise me if you did, because I know you--they are in your mind, not in your frame." She sighs, pressing up into his hand. "You love me?"
"... Yes." Megatron rumbles, quietly. "I... I do. And... I am thankful to Soundwave, for not demanding my exile or otherwise."
"He can't actually do that, you know," Ravage says, lifting her head to press it against his side. "This is an anarchist commune, he can't single-handedly ban you. Especially not while you owe community service." She sighs. "He's my conjunx, I sleep with him every night; you don't need to remind me that he exists."
"Hm." Megatron rumbles, though his tone is conciliatory. He reaches up to rub at his helm with his free hand, though he keeps stroking Ravage with the other. " ... Apologies. I'll... Refrain."
A pause. "Glit told me it would likely take time for my frame to recover from hosting an event horizon. Well... In between telling me other things."
Why is he tired?
ugh.
"My guess is because Nautica, Setsuna Amaou, and Silvermist just spent over a thousand hours, in shifts, removing a fucking singularity from your frame and sending it back to whatever hellverse Onyx got it out of in the first place. Nice to have you back, though."
Ravage was perched at the foot of the medical berth in her feline form, although she was wearing the elaborate necklace that Jazz and Soundwave had stolen for her several centuries ago around her pantherine neck.
".... Right." Megatron mutters, and lifts a servo to rub gingerly at his helm. "... It's disposed of, then? No one... No one is damaged for it?"
Another pause, a hesitation. "... Your injury. It was not-- I did not mean to damage you." Red optics flicker, watching her almost warily.
Ravage waves her paw at him. "I'm fine," she says. "Ratchet and Glit went through and replaced every single one of my spinal struts once they figured out how to recreate the damn alloy they're made of. But I'm still not allowed to go meteor surfing, which, if I recall correctly, was not an activity you suggested to me."
Her tail lashes the air, but not in a threatening way. It's 100% mischief. She leaps down off the foot of the bed and jumps up to his side, loafing and then leaning into the curve of his waist.
"Does Soundwave agree with that?" Megatron asks, but relents when she curls against him. The knot of guilt eases, ever so slightly, and he carefully rests a broad hand against her back. "I feel... lighter, with it gone." He adds.
"I'm Vox Destron, which means that my conjunx isn't actually the boss of me," Ravage says, learning into his hand. "Soundwave and I are getting along just fine, but if people start asking me to get his approval for things, I am going to have a problem with someone at some point in time. And Ratchet and Glit's medical opinions, which are the ones that count when it comes to my health, are that I'm fine. I'm glad you feel better. And before I forget, no-one was harmed."
She purrs encouragingly.
Megatron strokes her back, gently. "Good." He rumbles. "I am.... I am quite tired of bringing pain to others." He adds, rather vehemently. "And... You may tell Soundwave that I hold no more secrets."
"The medical team made sure of that," Ravage says, rubbing her face against him. "If you have any more secrets--and it would not surprise me if you did, because I know you--they are in your mind, not in your frame." She sighs, pressing up into his hand. "You love me?"
"... Yes." Megatron rumbles, quietly. "I... I do. And... I am thankful to Soundwave, for not demanding my exile or otherwise."

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Why is he tired?
ugh.
"My guess is because Nautica, Setsuna Amaou, and Silvermist just spent over a thousand hours, in shifts, removing a fucking singularity from your frame and sending it back to whatever hellverse Onyx got it out of in the first place. Nice to have you back, though."
Ravage was perched at the foot of the medical berth in her feline form, although she was wearing the elaborate necklace that Jazz and Soundwave had stolen for her several centuries ago around her pantherine neck.
".... Right." Megatron mutters, and lifts a servo to rub gingerly at his helm. "... It's disposed of, then? No one... No one is damaged for it?"
Another pause, a hesitation. "... Your injury. It was not-- I did not mean to damage you." Red optics flicker, watching her almost warily.
Ravage waves her paw at him. "I'm fine," she says. "Ratchet and Glit went through and replaced every single one of my spinal struts once they figured out how to recreate the damn alloy they're made of. But I'm still not allowed to go meteor surfing, which, if I recall correctly, was not an activity you suggested to me."
Her tail lashes the air, but not in a threatening way. It's 100% mischief. She leaps down off the foot of the bed and jumps up to his side, loafing and then leaning into the curve of his waist.
"Does Soundwave agree with that?" Megatron asks, but relents when she curls against him. The knot of guilt eases, ever so slightly, and he carefully rests a broad hand against her back. "I feel... lighter, with it gone." He adds.
"I'm Vox Destron, which means that my conjunx isn't actually the boss of me," Ravage says, learning into his hand. "Soundwave and I are getting along just fine, but if people start asking me to get his approval for things, I am going to have a problem with someone at some point in time. And Ratchet and Glit's medical opinions, which are the ones that count when it comes to my health, are that I'm fine. I'm glad you feel better. And before I forget, no-one was harmed."
She purrs encouragingly.
Megatron strokes her back, gently. "Good." He rumbles. "I am.... I am quite tired of bringing pain to others." He adds, rather vehemently. "And... You may tell Soundwave that I hold no more secrets."
Why is he tired?
ugh.
"My guess is because Nautica, Setsuna Amaou, and Silvermist just spent over a thousand hours, in shifts, removing a fucking singularity from your frame and sending it back to whatever hellverse Onyx got it out of in the first place. Nice to have you back, though."
Ravage was perched at the foot of the medical berth in her feline form, although she was wearing the elaborate necklace that Jazz and Soundwave had stolen for her several centuries ago around her pantherine neck.
".... Right." Megatron mutters, and lifts a servo to rub gingerly at his helm. "... It's disposed of, then? No one... No one is damaged for it?"
Another pause, a hesitation. "... Your injury. It was not-- I did not mean to damage you." Red optics flicker, watching her almost warily.
Ravage waves her paw at him. "I'm fine," she says. "Ratchet and Glit went through and replaced every single one of my spinal struts once they figured out how to recreate the damn alloy they're made of. But I'm still not allowed to go meteor surfing, which, if I recall correctly, was not an activity you suggested to me."
Her tail lashes the air, but not in a threatening way. It's 100% mischief. She leaps down off the foot of the bed and jumps up to his side, loafing and then leaning into the curve of his waist.
"Does Soundwave agree with that?" Megatron asks, but relents when she curls against him. The knot of guilt eases, ever so slightly, and he carefully rests a broad hand against her back. "I feel... lighter, with it gone." He adds.