Dinobot groaned as he sat up and pressed his palm to his helm. He muttered a request for a damage report, hissing in annoyance when his computer informed him he had several injuries. Great.
One moment, he had been in the middle of a battle, the next, a rogue missile shattered the ground beneath him. He was fairly certain that he had Scorponok to thank for that.
Finally, he cracked open his optics and took stock of his surroundings. He was in some sort of underground ravine from what he could tell. The walls were far too high to try climbing out, which meant his best bet was to move forward. Somewhere, he could hear flowing water. If he could find that and follow it, maybe it would lead out.
Dinobot shoved himself to his pedes, snarling when pain shot through him. He grit his denta and pushed through it, eventually managing to stand and lean against the ravine wall. A heavy ex-vent left him and he pressed a servo to his side. It was slick with energon. Wonderful.
Suddenly, he heard something move nearby. His helm swiveled towards the sound, optics narrowed as he tried to pinpoint what had caused it. Then, he saw him. Megatron. The slagger had fallen down with him and appeared to finally be waking up from the fall. "Stay down," he snarled, hoping that maybe Megatron would heed his warning.
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Art based on AU rps where Starscream is romantically involved with Megatron before his death and subsequent reincarnation as Galvatron. So when G comes back, there's a tearful reunion... among other things plotted for the ship. 😏💍
Shown here at 66% final res. 💜
Megatron as written by me over at @prevailinghatred
Starscream as written by @tacticturn
"...So anyway, that's how I got myself a broken jaw for my first Sunday back." Thankfully he doesn't need a functional jaw in order to beep! Ahaha. Ha. Ouch.
Bragging fools. Windblade had to admit it was DISAPPOINTING how easy it was to 'earn' her way into the Nemesis.
In a way, however, it made sense. It wasn't every day that random scouts managed to capture an 'autobot'. The Cityspeaker. They were so excited with their achievement, probably believing it would earn them some kind of promotion, that they didn't even realize that during her carefully rehearsed struggle, part of the autobot sigil on her middle had begun to fade– not truly welded or etched onto her plates, but merely PAINTED ON– easily washed off paint, just like the design under her optics and the red on her lips.
They also felt seemingly no curiosity about her sword being different– not the ancient weapon forged by the one and only Solus Prime for the very first Cityspeaker, and passed down from one to another based on performance; but a more common sword. As much as she cared about the mission, she wouldn't risk losing the sword of Solus Prime. The Mistress of Flame would have never forgiven such a mistake.
Her replacement sword was taken from her before she was thrown into a cell.
"I am an emissary of Caminus, and I will not stand for this disrespect!" she yelled every time one of the Decepticons passed the cell. "I demand to speak to Lord Megatron!"
She didn't need to put up the act of the offended/scared diplomat, though, because the very scouts that captured her had headed to pass on the news to their leader, wanting to be acknowledged for their achievement. Still, the wait made her chest cavity feel tighter around her spark. Windblade wasn't scared of any Decepticon, had already killed a couple of them. But there was something about this ship, something that made her feel UNEASY, like– what was the human saying? Ants under the skin. She refused to come into contact with the walls or the berth on her cell, remaining standing right in the middle of it.
"Lord Megatron, we must speak to Lord Megatron!" came the voices from two —perhaps OVERLY-excited scouts— who then, at the same time, proclaimed: "I captured the Cityspeaker!" before they clashed into a muttered-out argument about which one of them captured the Cityspeaker.
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💞 "Hmm.. I don't need to be anonymous. I'd much rather boldly ask you to your face... tell me about the last time you self-serviced to the thought of me. I want to hear every small detail of your pleasure and your fantasy..."
"Who knows... if I like it, I might even make it a reality for you."
———@prevailinghatred. ( from. )
..:: ... bold, aren't you? ::..
there's an audible sigh of the prime's hydraulics as he shifts on his pedes, his tires lazily spinning with the motion. a glance left, then right, then he's returning it to center once he's certain that he's alone, wringing his servos in a way that orion used to do when he was embarrassed about something ...
..:: ... would it surprise you to know that it was semi-recently? ::.. optimus drops his gaze to his own servos, worn digits flexing as he tries to stop his spark from spinning itself into a tizzy & his fuel pump from going into overdrive. ..:: i am certain that it would surprise anyone else to hear. but ... as you have asked so nicely, megatron, i suppose that i can offer you a retelling of that time. ::..
doing so without embarrassment will be a task, but ... that is the kind of game that megatron plays, he supposes. why should he expect any different from him now? & he is alone ...
..:: ... it was ... after a particularly difficult battle, ::.. he begins, again moving from pede to pede with a groan of protest from his hydraulics. he's sure that the noise can be heard through their commlink. ..:: i had fended you off physically, but mentally i found myself wishing to remain in your clutches. i could not stop myself thinking about your servos at my throat & on my waist, even long into the night after everything had settled down & my team was deep in recharge ... ::..
a hint of blue dusts his cheeks as his optics haze over like windows on a winter day. some might think it foolish to be so worked up when megatron isn't even here physically to see his embarrassment. ..:: i could not recharge with them. i knew that if i continued to think like that, i would surely work myself up & keep them awake ... so i shut myself away in a storage room to work through the excess charge that your touch had instilled in me. i allowed myself the moment, imagining what it might be like to be your prisoner ... what you might do to me to assert your power over me ... your digits around my throat, inside of my chest, prying my intake open ... my modesty panel ... ::..
a servo reaches up to brace the gap between his windshield panels, thumb stroking over the warming crysteel. ..:: would you have them watch as you took me apart? would you show all of your decepticons your control of me, or would you keep the sight of me for your optics only? both scenarios seemed equally tempting to me, but ... my own servos have always been a poor facsimile for yours, as they can never hurt me quite as badly as yours can. even in my own valve, there hadn't been enough friction for a satisfying overload ... only one that barely took the edge off of my thoughts. ::..
"What is it with people and picking fights with a Megatron? The same one that broke Bumblebee 2.0's jaw not even a full week ago?" He's rubbing his face as he watches the net.
