#but sometimes i think about what he fucking did to megatron and the decepticon movement and i wanna THROTTLE HIM

[alvie-pines]

i recognize the irony of punkposting while my icon is a fictional character who is literally a cop in some continuities and in others a tool of a fascist regime. im sorry. optimus prettyboy prime just looks nice in the corner of my screen

[lord-squiggletits]

Your Tarn posts make me think about him more

He's a victim but he has so many victims himself, but the person that he is, that cause those victims, was delibrately cultivated. Tarn of the DJD was intentional, and that worse somehow

I have to ask, what do you think it would look like if Tarn, somehow & for whatever reason, decided to take the road of healing, to put whatever pieces of himself back together

YEAH I THINK SO FUCKING MUCH ABOUT THAT, even from my first MTMTE read when I didn't care much about him as a blorbo, I thought it was crazily compelling how Tarn was at once an absolute terrifying monster but also the most pathetic, sad little bully boy in an oversized body at the same time akldjlfksd. Like, you look at Tarn and the horrible shit he did to Pharma, all the victims of the DJD, Skids, the alt. Lost Light, etc and he seems like a completely unstoppable force. Then you actually look behind the mask and Tarn's just so... incredibly short-sighted, blindly worships, really volatile and thoughtless, and ultimately gets his shit rocked by Megatron in what's basically a no-contest loss. It feels really bad like... how can it be that someone so pathetic was able to cause so much destruction before he was put down? In the ideal world, you want to believe that shitty, weak people are powerless, but it turns out that sometimes shitty, weak people can actually be in positions of power (in terms of hierarchy, physical might, politics, etc) and when they do they can hurt an incredibly disproportionate amount of people compared to their actual strength of character as a person. As an example, pre-insanity/mania Pharma was so obviously a better person than Tarn, but look how that ended up: this absolute prodigy of a doctor, next in line to be CMO, a normal good Autobot in all accounts. Gets completely wrecked and turned into a mentally ill, insane asshole that loses everything and everyone he ever valued, and Tarn literally never even thinks about him again. God.

As to how I'd handle Tarn healing arc...

The short answer: I actually want to write about Tarn taking a road of healing, heel-face turn arc in the Pen Pals Tarnma AU I've talked about occasionally on this blog/in asks! So... when I post that fic, literally just (gestures at the whole thing)

The long answer:

If canon-divergent, it'd be Dying of the Light but Tarn and co. stop fighting Megatron bc of how pathetic he is. The DJD basically merge forces with Deathsaurus' Decepticons, and they make a sort of neo-Decepticon movement fighting the Galactic Council/Black Rock Consortia. Tarn isn't really a better person morally speaking (yknow the hating organics and wanting conquest thing), but he'd definitely be put on a path where he divorces his sense of self from Megatron and focuses more on his group of comrades: he finds meaning from a collective rather than from worshiping an individual as a god, and Tarn experiences healing from that fact bc instead of a fucked up grooming/parasocial relationship with a distant, uncaring leader, he's actually having real, tangible bonds with people who are equal to him and love and respect him. So, probably still really fanatical to his ideals, but he's a fanatic who loves his comrades as much as he loves his cause.

In a nonspecified AU, let's say during the war with Decepticon Megatron, I think the only way Tarn could get better would be if Megatron got better and then took the time/care to make Tarn better along with him. Unfortunately, Tarn has been manipulated in such a way that Megatron is literally his entire axis of morality/purpose/etc, and I think he doesn't have enough agency and independence to start healing except unless Megatron says "shittiest of my sons, why don't you deradicalize and maybe you'll calm down." It'd basically take Megatron un-grooming Tarn first, and then for Tarn to get some kind of purpose/relationship outside of him for Tarn to regain the independence he had as Damus, which would then allow him to pull the rest of the way from Megatron and go his own way. (Incidentally, this is what happens in the Pen Pals AU)

In a scenario that I don't even know how it'd happen but I desperately want it to happen: Optimus "I can fix him" Prime and Tarn are forced to work together in some capacity which leads to a slowburn mending of their relationship. Not like Tarn becomes an Autobot, or goes back to being Damus, but like... idk, Optimus is the one to deradicalize Tarn and make him realize that Megatron manipulated the shit out of him. Somehow. I would really like these two to interact so badly, and for Tarn to also have a mentor/paternal-esque relationship with someone besides Megatron. (This also happens in Pen Pals AU ldskfjlsd I told you that fic was the true Tarn Redemption Story dlksfjlsdsf)

[autobot-ratchet]

Drift Miniseries and Spotlight: Drift

this is usually where I would put all the Drift-related one shots and miniseries when I would reread this series so that's where I'll put them this time too, it's Drift time, let's go

Drift 1

I'm so fond of Deadlock, lil edgelord man <3

even back then, Deadlock was doing everything he could to make things better. Granted, he was very misguided, but he never committed all this violence simply because he loves the power or whatever, if that was the case, he would've been a part of the DJD with the kind of determination he's got. But he wasn't because that's not what it was about. All that killing was for the sake of getting the war over with as quickly as possible because he really did believe that fully eliminating all threats was what needed to be done in order to make Cybertron the best it could be

eyyy what's up Wing

that's whatcha get for trying to bail, Drift, get smushed

damn they really changed Drift's entire appearance while he was out

Drift 2

I do like Drift being confronted with a Cybertronian city that embodies everything he's fighting for, but it was made specifically by those who refused to fight, making him start to question if all the fighting and killing he's been doing was truly necessary the way he always thought it was

also love Wing using violence to get through to Drift, it's a language he understands, and in the meantime he can learn some better ways of communicating

“I didn't join to conquer anything” hell YES!!! LOVE this confirmation that it was never about the violence in and of itself for Drift, it was always just a means to an end. Sure, he was always good at killing and always so, so angry, but that anger was never the point, the point was to eliminate the things that made him so angry in the first place, and for him, for the kind of life he was forced to live, violence was the only way to both survive and fix things. How was he supposed to avoid becoming Deadlock when cops were brutalizing people like him for fun and the ones who had the power to make life livable for people like him simply didn't care? Like sure he can make the choice to stop fighting now, now that he's got a support system, but back in Rodion? If he hadn't fought, he Would Have Died, full stop, and I don't think it's very fair to be like “but violence bad tho, don't ever do it”

I've said it before but man... the Decepticon movement started out so good........ shame it got all fucked

Drift 3

aww, Drift trying to do the right thing, good for you hon

I do find it very interesting that Megatron's playing favorites with Deadlock here. Man I wish they had gotten to speak more once Drift got back to the Lost Light, but I fully understand why they couldn't, we had to cut off this run to make room for the next one

this is another case of “I totally understand and can't fully blame anyone for their opinions here,” of course Dai Atlas doesn't want to risk losing Crystal City to another war, but also sometimes you have no choice but to fight

baby boy gets two whole makeovers in this miniseries

Drift 4

the concept of great swords is so cool, love these stupid fuckin anime weapons

aww man, that parallel between Wing's death and Gasket's death... and Drift getting just as wildly angry for both of them

hell yeah, Dai Atlas, fuck em up

man... it breaks my heart seeing Drift be accepted by the Circle of Light, knowing that they all fuckin die before Drift can see them again. At least he finally solidifies his community on the Lost Light...

baby gets THREE makeovers in this miniseries, good for him

Spotlight: Drift

aww, Drift putting on the same disguise Wing did...

fgdhjsk love Drift trying to be sneaky and then the Wreckers are just like “nah”

still love Perceptor immediately walking up to Drift like “wow you're gorgeous- I mean cool upgrades”

also love how Drift really does just. Accidentally become a Wrecker and thus an Autobot, granted he makes the choice later, but initially it is definitely a spur-of-the-moment thing

damn, rip Percy. I mean I know you're not dead but ouch

aww I like that Kup is willing to give Drift a chance, even knowing full well what he's done and who he used to be

I also love Drift doing his best to save Perceptor. I've seen people say it a lot and I kinda agree, I do wish MTMTE had more moments between Perceptor and Drift. I get why there weren't, especially after having it all so fresh in my mind, there just wasn't any time/reason to put it in, but yknow. Just a couple little background moments would've been nice. Alas

and that's how baby became an Autobot, mostly out of gratitude to Kup for reaching out to him. God he wants to belong to a community so fucking bad, but he doesn't want it to be the wrong one, he doesn't want to make the same mistakes again

[cleverthylacine]

WIP Wednesday

(and yes this is absolutely influenced by the discussion we’ve been having about robot ageing, I added some bits in this morning)

This is from Designs and Persuasions, fourth fic in the Voice of Stanix series and half of the third arc of that series.

I almost spoilered this, but then I realised that Jazz/Soundwave/Ravage is already in the tags for this fic so it’s already spoiled.  It’s first person from Ravage’s POV in this section. (If you haven’t read Voice of Stanix, you should know that in this AU, Ravage and Laserbeak, Stalker and Buzzsaw, Stripes and Sundor, Glit and Squawktalk, Howlback and Garboil, and Pounce and Wingspan were a defunded pre-war military experiment that was sold off illegally rather than being destroyed, and spent the first ten years of thelr lives living as siblings and training together.

The cats and birds were designed to work as partners, and Ravage has never forgiven Stripes and Sundor for joining the Autobots and leaving to follow Orion Pax when he quit the Decepticon movement.)

“I shouldn’t say this,” said Jazz, and before I could tell him not to, if he knew that he shouldn’t, he said it: “Stripes never stopped caring for you. I believe that he still hasn’t. He got into fights with Steeljaw about it.”

“That’s crazy.” I sighed. “I still can’t believe he let the Autobots cassettify him, and that he hasn’t had it undone. Do you know how much better my rotten back feels now that my spine gets to unstretch itself half the time?”

“It was an arms race.” Jazz shrugged. “Soundwave didn’t tell me your back hurts all the time—”

“My chronic pain issues were not his first thought when you were in bed with both of us and the thing you were doing to him was amazing but would have hurt me,” I said, laughing. “But I’ll take it if it means we don’t have to talk about Stripes.”

“We should,” said Jazz. “I think he was in love with Blaster, actually.”

“You’re going to make me pity him. Stop,” I said.

“Ah, but you should. Blaster wouldn’t touch him. Or any of his others. He thinks it’s wrong, and that Soundwave is using you and that he whored you out to Megatron.” Jazz groaned. “Fuck. He hates me now too, I’m sure.”

“He’s always hated us,” I said, “so yeah, so probably. I know what Blaster thinks of us, and I don’t care. But I’m sorry he’s turning on you; the war isn’t over, it’s just gone cold. Sorry but really, he isn’t anyone’s friend.”

“He was Beachcomber’s friend,” said Jazz with a sigh, “and I know Soundwave regrets that. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Then don’t say things like that.” I sat up and hugged my knees to my chest. “Do you really love me, Jazz? More important, do you really love him?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t actually know what that means sometimes,” he said after a moment. “But I know I need Soundwave, and I care for him so much more than someone in my old position should ever have let myself care, and he is a part of you, and you are a part of him, and you are very, very beautiful, and kinder than you know.”

His smile went crooked. “And I think I do.”

“That’s fair,” I said, though I was still mad that he’d brought up Beachcomber, who was alive, and well; I didn’t mind that Blaster had been angry, I minded that he couldn’t take the win and give up on killing my conjunx, after three million years.

“You’re mad.”

“I’ll get over it.” I gave him a crooked, frustrated smile, and a long. slow, luxurious blink. “I know it’s hard for you right now. It’s never fun to find out what the people you thought were your friends are, not when you know you were wrong.”

Jazz shrugged. “Yeah.” He did not mention Megatron. He didn’t have to.

“I love what you did for Soundwave when I couldn’t be there. I love what you did for us both at great cost to yourself, and how much you’ve done to end this insanity. I want to know you better than I do, which would be easier if you would stop trying to hide who and what you are. And I love getting fucked by you. But I’m terrified of becoming a triad again, especially since a triad with us is always a little lopsided.”

Jazz laughed. “That’s fair, too. But please keep in mind that I want it lopsided. I don’t want to go where you go when you go there. Not with him or with anyone else. And I don’t want a spark-bond. I don’t like it when things are too heavy, and it doesn’t mean I feel any less, it’s just…”

“I know,” I said. “There’s a war on, even if it’s cold now. And these are immense vulnerabilities, even though I cherish them.”

[mocacheezy]

So I am reading Exodus right? And it took me ages to get over the 12th chapter since I dreaded the Council Shitshow and assumed it will blow up then and there. Welp, I was wrong.

So now I finished the 13th chapter and oh my fucking shit Orion, honey. Honey no, you fucked up spectacularly. You set yourself up for such a damn fuckery between you and Megatron and you don't even realize it.

Megatron is in no way reasonable or not responsible for the excalation of said fuckery, but I can absolutely see how his (very extreme) reaction makes sense given the chain of events following what Orion does here.

So I shall screech about it. Do note that I am also Mega-biased. Book spoilers below.

Summary of the post: Orion Pax, albeit unintentionally, completely overshadowed Megatron, named the cause for Megatron with disregard for the name he claimed just minutes prior, and also displayed the difference between higher and lower castes as blatantly as it gets (one patient and reasonable, the other angry), finishing his speech by letting the Council know they must make their choice between peace or destruction today as they pick the new Prime.

Yet he still wonders why Megatron is angry as the stands chant "Autobots!" after his speech.

So we start with the set up; Megatron is once again pointing out that Orion's priviledge and connection are the only reason why they have the chance to speak with the Council, and Orion points out that airing grievances will get him nowhere. He also suggests Megatron stops pretending and presents himself as a legitemate leader of a movement, since, quote: "If they think you're just a gladiator they'll cut you off in a nanoklik and you'll never get a second chance."

Pax has good points, Megatron acknowledges this and before they part, Orion has one last advice:

(...) "Don't make too much of an entrance. One thing you have to know about the Council is that they hate to be upstaged."

Megatron is Megatron, but his start was calm compared to his usualy speeches. He stated the facts, told how him and those like him live - how they were all nameless and how some only learned their own worth through death and killing in the arena - and, before the questions from the Council start, he does express gratitude;

"(...) My friend Orion Pax, I thank you for helping our cause gain this platform; and to the High Council, I express my thanks for your time and attention.

All in all, it was quite impressive seeing the contrast from his speech in the arena and here.

And then the provocative questions from the Counil members start, and the word Decepticon is dropped in relation to the terrorist attacks;

After his exit, Sigil, the Representative of the Guilds - who "(...) administered the castes and excersized absolute control over which newly born Cybertronians were routed into which castes." - speaks of how well the Guilds work and then says this;

"Decepticon?" echoed Megatron. "An interesting name."

"You would think so," Drivetrain pressed him. "Since it was you who coined it, was it not?"

Megatron drew himself up to his whole height. (...) "I would say that you should implicate neither me nor my friend Orion Pax until you have facts. What other bots might have said means nothing to me. But if the term Decepticon is to be laid at my feet I accept it!" he said. "Sometimes deception is necessary, when those who should listen to the truth will not, and will only understand once they've been lied to and forced to see their own lies."

After this there is uproar, and with what those that call themself Decepticons did, Megatron didn't make the situation any easier. His exit from the stand is in no way calm either. But that's who he is, so no surprise that his temper took the wheel after repetative provocations and thinly veiled insults from the Council.

Oof. Yeah, hmmm, Megatron and others are probably used to that slag, but I am still surprised noone got shot or restrained. Good job to everyone in the stands that support the cause.

(...) "Can one criminal... one gladiator with the deaths of how many innocents on his conscience... Can this killer be suffered to undermine what Primus himself has decreed when he created this planet and seeded all Cybertronians on it throughout the Well of the Allsparks?"

So this was Megatron's defense, and now comes Orion, with an opening that had me slack jawed.

He channeled that displeasure & anger well, begining with the most polite way of saying "Fuck you Sigil" and I live for it.

"I say first that Sigil makes no friends among unhappy Cybertronians because he is as pompous as any spark has ever been," Orion Pax said.

And then begins his defense and he speaks out for Megatron and his actions, backing him up and explaining his anger;

So he began simply. "Fellow Cybertronians, members of the Council, hear me. Megatron speaks harshly but true. He has seen the truth of life for many Cybertronians whose lives are all too often invisible, and if he is angry, it is anger born of love for an ideal and a Spark-deep pain at our failure of that ideal. (...)

And during his speech he coins the name Autobots, and speaks of what kind of a Prime Cybertron needs;

"I will say it again. Autonomous robots!

"(...) We are all autonomous robots today -Autobots, if we need a name to rally around- and we Autobots declare that a Spark once freed will never again stand to be oppressed.

"You must chose a new Prime today. Choose well, for a Prime might either lead Cybertron to a new golden era in our history, or stand by as the dark energies of anger and resentment explode into planet wide chaos and war.

"Members of the Council, the choice is yours. I wish you wisdom."

His parting words aimed at the stands end up in the crowd chanting:

(...) ; Orion Pax raised both arms, fists clenched, and thundered, "For Cybertron! Autobots!"

Over the pounding of Halogen's gavel, the crows erupted. AUTOBOTS!

"For freedom! Autobots!"

AUTOBOTS!

It started up high in the gallery, beyond where Megatron's oldest and most loyal followers were clustered. AUTOBOTS! And from there it spread. AUTOBOTS! AUTOBOTS! AUTOBOTS!

This time it took nearly a full cycle before Halogen and the other Councilors could gavel the gallery back to silence. And Orion Pax noticed something odd.

Something odd?

When he caught Megatron's eye he was expecting approbation. Instead he saw anger on his friend's face, and did not know why. Surely, brother, he thought, it is more important to accomplish our goal than it is for us to agree on every mote of our method?

He did not know if that was what had angered Megatron, but Orion Pax knew his friend, and he knew they would have words. If not during the course of the High Council hearing, then after. Megatron clearly had something on his mind, and he was not a Cybertronian who kept his emotions to himself.

Atleast not for long.

The Council is against change, the terrorist attacks and violence don't win their cause any favours. After his speech, Megatron is accused of being behind the attacks, and eventually he simply accepts the name Decepticons, since everyone seems so keen to associate it with him.*

Since he can't seem to figure it out, and Megatron hasn't spoken his mind yet, let's list what just happened:

The exchange between the Council and Megatron is in no way peaceful. Lots of aggression on both sides, with Megatron's being more explosive. He makes it clear his cause will be a threat if the Council doesn't listen.

Orion's entrance is a big contrast to how Megatron entered. And despite being laughted at in the begining, he delivers a heartfelt speech that soothes over the aggitation brought on by Megatron, while also backing up his anger and explaininh the reason for it. He coins the name for the cause right then and there - autonomous robots; Autobots. And he points out that the Council can choose a Prime that will lead them to a better future, or do nothing when the anger of the people explodes and causes destruction.

*Megatron is behind some (if not all) of those attacks, but there is no proof to fully back this claim 100% unless he himself admits to it. The Council probably counted on him admiting his association and they partially succeeded.

The above? Megatron setting himself up for failure in a civil enviorment, but he himself also doesn't believe in change through peace. Orion has no hand in this belief, since he also actively works on reminding Megatron that peace is an option and something to strive for.

During his speech, Orion Pax:

Completely disintergrated the atmosphere that Megatron created - the kind that works in the Arena and has given results in the past.

He named their cause on the spot, after Megatron, the one that started it in the first place, claimed the name Decepticons to himself, and by that to his movement.

He stated that they must choose a new Prime today and laid out two very different pictures of a what choices they have. Peaceful or destructive.

Orion Pax, albeit unintentionally, completely overshadowed Megatron, named the cause for Megatron with disregard for the name he claimed just minutes prior, and also displayed the difference between higher and lower castes as blatantly as it gets (one patient and reasonable, the other angry), finishing his speech by letting the Council know they must make their choice between peace or destruction today, as they pick the new Prime.

He suceeded in making the stands chant the name he picked for the cause, which would of course make him the leader in the eyes of those who hear the word Autobots. The name is connected to his speech.

He upstaged both the Council and Megatron with his exit.

Now Megatron has an ego to match his temper and passion, and he is already agitated due to the Council getting under his plating. And now, his friend from a higher caste undid all he said, and is in the spotlight, with the crowd chanting for him, much louder and longer than they did for him.

He wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Orion, so there's bitterness for that.

He is from a lower caste and at a disadvantage from the start because of that.

He had to remain calm for as long as possible given the disadvantages he has, while also having his patience stretched paper thin.

He killed in the arena, his followers killed outside the arena and this got everone's attention when words did not.

Orion just had to speak and was heard. And his speech got the stands chanting, and approval from a crowd shows which way the scales will most likely tip. (Not to mention the chanting did not start from the ground up, but spread from the top downwards. That is also quite a contrast compared to where Megatron's speeches started and spread.)

His actions make it look like betrayal, and with how Megatron is, with how angry he already is, I don't think he'll try to be reasonable and try to look at that speech from a different angle, given that this is High Caste enviorment, and Orion is closer to them.

I am not writing about the 14th chapter here because I have yet to read it, don't have image space, but I also know it will be an even bigger "oh no" that will need it's own post (or might just be reblogged here, who knows).

Again, Orion did this unintentionally, but he also made a very different entrance AND exit than Megatron did, despite himself saying that the Council hates to be upstaged. He really, really set himself up for the chain reaction to follow, simply because he was himself, fully himself, and spoke from heart.

This part of the story is really making me wonder if Optimus ever reflects on this moment when he's alone. Hindsight must've hit him like a train.

[novaimpactgenerator-blog]

Human Artist S/O Reader Headcanons

Here's a headcanon that no one asked for, but I decided the world needed anyway. It has Rodimus, Drift, Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus, Megatron, Rung, Ratchet, and Swerve. In that order. Requests are still open you can find them here.

Rodimus:

-Most of your works that star him are when he's fighting. The way he can twist and turn and move is both daunting and dazzling. And he couldn't agree more. Though his favorite is a huge painting you did of a selfie you two took. He hung it up behind his desk.

-Can't get enough of your art. He loves everything about it, especially when he's the subject. He proudly displays everything you do. Even if you protest. Always says that "it's too good to stay hidden".

-Loves to watch you do your thing. He could literally watch you for hours. And that's saying something since he has a very short attention span. Though him not being able to see what you're doing is not an option.

-You better believe that he has tried to get you to do something sexual of him. He's watched Titanic once. Once! Now he tells you to "paint him like one of your French girls" while his interface panels are open at least once a week. You have walked out many times. You have given in a few times. Roddy is very pretty. He definitely tried to put the first one up in his office, but Ultra Magnus immediately walked in and took it down (to this day, neither of you know how he found out so fast when no one had even seen it yet). That was a long lecture. One time, while he was sitting on his desk waiting for you in his office with his panels open, Ultra Magnus walked in. Got arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-Loves the little sketches you do on his desk. Had Brainstorm make a nontoxic clear spray that he can put on top of them to make sure they won't come off. Will pick you up and hold you if you try to erase them before he can use the chemicals. "You can't. It's there now. And there it shall stay." Caught you peeling them off once. Literally cried and pouted for the entire day. You never did that again. He found a chibi sketch of you winking and saying, "You can do it! I believe in you, Roddy!" and looks at it when he is about to give up on writing and/or reading reports, among other things. It makes him smile.

-Keeps literally EVERYTHING you make. Refuses to get rid of any of it. "It's special and beautiful!" "It's a fucking triangle, Rodimus." "And what a wonderful triangle it is!"

-Has a wall of his hab suite and office reserved for your art. He puts the private ones and the ones he just wants to keep to himself in his hab. Everything else goes in his office. Including the triangle. Sometimes he puts your art around the ship were the others will see it, but it doesn't stay there for long before it goes to either his suite or office.

-You have received MANY Rodimus Stars for your art. Mini ones.

-Found you trying to get rid of a book of "useless" sketches and line art behind his back. He confiscated it. The pages were all over his walls the next day.

-Will often join you if you are doing some kind of cool scenery. Normally this will include fire whether it is apart of the landscape or not.

-Does not like it when you draw other bots.

-Was royally pissed when he found a drawing of Thunderclash. He called you a cheater and a Thunderclash groupee and ran off. He avoided you for an hour before he came crawling back to you. Literally.

Drift:

-The majority of the works you do of him are when he's meditating or training. He always looks so graceful and calm. Unless he's stabbing something. Then he's badass and awesome.

-Cherishes everything you give him. Keeps the drawing of you and him in his spark chamber. Frames many of the things you make for him. Takes VERY good care of them. Whirl accidentally ripped the corner of one. He promptly lost his shit. Played Chase-The-Chopper-With-Swords until Ultra Magnus caught him. Got arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-Subtly watches you while you sketch. Finds it very relaxing. Will stop if you ask, but gets sad if you do.

-Finds the little sketches you leave here and there very cute. Will look fondly at them at times. Gets sad if he notices one that he regularly looks at is suddenly gone. He needs to get something to keep them there.

-Thinks of you drawing, painting, or sketching as you meditating. Does not allow you to be disturbed until you're finished or take a break.

-Has caught you getting rid of whole pages of art before. Does not stop you. Does not let you know he saw you do it. And definitely does not collect them while you aren't looking and hide them somewhere high or behind others.

-"Wait don'T GO UP THERE!"

-Is very private about the things you make for him. Doesn't like to show others what you've created for his eyes. It was for him, not the- what do you mean they can see it?

-Has asked and allowed you to draw and/or paint him with his panels open a few times. The first time was you asking him. He didn't think you'd want to so he refused to ask you first. Only does this in the privacy of his hab suite. This time is normally spent with light flirting and suggestive movements. Movements which are followed by you saying he messed up your angle and you leaving. He doesn't move anymore.

-Will join you if the ship stops at a very beautiful and peaceful planet. Thinks of this as meditation.

-The picture you drew of Tarn absolutely did NOT scare the ever living spark out of him. (Why was it so realistic and detailed!?)

-Doesn't mind if you do art of other bots, but does get a bit jealous at times depending on the position they're in. "Isn't that a little inappropriate?" "... He's sitting down... Resting his head on hand... And not even facing me. And it's for Chromedome."

Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus:

-Most of the art staring him are when he's working at his desk. Your favorites are when he isn't wearing his armor. You do have a few of him arresting Whirl though.

-Will carefully frame some of the bigger pieces and hang them neatly in his office. Keeps them VERY clean. Readjusts then at least five times a day only to put them in the. Same. Exact. Spot. Has arrested Whirl for defacing the huge portrait you made for him with a little more force than necessary. Keeps some of the smaller ones framed in his hab suite. They are the majority of his personal belongings.

-Will glance at you while you sketch, but doesn't watch you for long periods of time because he doesn't want to disturb you or make you feel uncomfortable. Finds it soothing when you do it while he's filling out reports. You're both being productive.

-He is very conflicted about you drawing on his desk. Literally blew a fuse the first time he saw you doing it. Does he get rid of it? Does he keep it? But his perfect desk. And the crew already doesn't respect him. You didn't notice until he suddenly slumped back in his chair with smoke pouring out of the seams in his head. If he catches you doing it he will silently slide your sketch pad to you. Refuses to put anything on top of the chibi drawing of you hugging Minimus, but does block it from the view of the bots sitting on the other side of his desk with a stack of datapads.

-Does not stop you from getting rid of art. If you don't want it you can always make more. And it's your art, therefore, it's your choice what you do with it.

-Has never and will never ask you to do anything with his interface panels open. Immediately refusing if you ask saying, "That would be highly inappropriate."

-Is extremely private about the things you make for him. Doesn't offer to show anyone the things you give him. Gets a little irritated if he catches someone (Rodimus) paying more attention to your art than what he's saying while they're in his office. You're in here for a reason, damn it! Yes, it's really good, but you could at least be subtle about ignoring him.

-Is not nearly confident enough in his artistic abilities to join you, no matter how many times you tell him he's good.

-Doesn't mind you drawing the other crew members, but did get very worried when you drew a Decepticon.

-You definitely don't draw Decepticon symbols on his desk to get back at him for blowing you off to work over time.

Megatron:

-The majority of your works with him has a subject are when he's in the bridge or when he's writing poetry.

-Your favorite (and his) is the one you made of you, him, Ravage, and Terminus.

-Handles all of your art with care. He understands the importance of art. Hung up the large portrait you made of his behind his desk. Yeeted Whirl down the hall for defacing it, and had Ravage chase him. Got arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-They are LITERALLY all the personal possessions he has. He didn't exactly bring anything with him. Except for Ravage. But that was an accident. And Ravage is a friend, not a possession.

-Not only does he watch you do your art thing, but he also writes poetry about it. He loves the look of concentration you get when you're really focused. It can always make him smile no matter what mood he's in.

-Fondly traces the chibi sketch of you and him standing back to back with arms crossed over your chests and smirking on his desk. Hides it under a datapad when someone comes in after someone (Rodimus) teased him about it.

-Has never and probably will never ask you to do any kind of art with his interface panels open, but does agree if you ask him. Though only in the privacy of his room. Is not shy about it at all. "I'm far too old to be bashful," he says as he opens his panels with a smirk.

-Cringed when he found a picture of Tarn. "... Why?" That was awkward. You had planned on just drawing a rough sketch of him and then draw an X over his face, but you got carried away and couldn't bring yourself to ruin it or get rid of it, so you stashed it.

-Does not stop you from getting rid of the art you don't want or like. Does not bring it up. Because even though he understands the importance of art he also understands why someone would want to change or get rid of theirs.

-The things you create for him do not leave his hab suite or office. Has never liked people looking at his stuff, and it's worse with your art because he sees it as personal.

-Would rather watch you work than do it with you. Besides, it gives him time to write about you.

-When he got stabbed by Cyclonus he let you repaint his chest.

-Doesn't really care if you draw other bots. Justs asks that you not give Rodimus the satisfaction of doing anything for him. "There would be no living with him then."

Rung:

-Most of your drawings and paintings of him are him working on one of his models. Your favorite one is when he let you paint him without his glasses.

-He lets you paint his models when they need it.

-Loves to watch you sketch more than anything else. What you draw lets him know what you're thinking and how you're feeling. He tries really hard not to psychoanalyze you when you go from one thing to the next, but he can't help himself sometimes. He always keeps his findings to himself unless he thinks you're in a really bad state of mind. Communication is key.

-Keeps all of the things that you give him in his office. He says it creates a more comfortable environment for his patients. And he loves to look at them when he, himself, gets troubled.

-Uses the clear coat polish for his models on the drawings you put on his desk. Always asks if he can before he paints them. Covers none of them. Often smiles at the little chibi version of you hugging him and saying, "It'll be okay, love."

-If he catches you getting rid of art he stops you and asks you why. If he doesn't like the answer you give, he will try to convince you to either give them to him or continue to work on them. If you still want to get rid of them he will let you. It is your art. So it's your choice if you want to get rid of it. That does not mean that he agrees with you. He may mention it later.

-Has never and will never ask you to draw him with his interface panels open. Will always politely refuse with a blush if you ask. "I-I'm very flattered, but I would simply be far too embarrassed."

-Uses some of the techniques you say are particularly relaxing with his patients. Except for Whirl. All he likes to paint are gruesome scenes that mostly compose of him killing someone in one way or another. And that's about the opposite what his therapy is for.

-Will on rare occasions join you in sketching or painting, but he'd much rather watch you. There's truly nothing more relaxing to him than to watch you paint a beautiful and serene landscape.

-Likes it when you draw others. Especially his patients. He gets to show them when they come in. "I wouldn't do Red Alert though. He might think you're watching him."

Ratchet:

-90% of the works featuring Ratchet are of him working because that's what he's doing 90% of the time. His favorite is the huge portrait you made of him, First Aid, and Ambulon in the medibay. He hung it up in the back of the medibay where everyone could see it when they walked in.

-Really likes your art, but doesn't fully understand why he's the subject of your passion more often than not. "There are literally dozens of interesting bots on this ship, why don't you try doing something for them for a change?" "Why would I do that when I already have the most interesting one right here?" "W-Wha- I- You can't jus- You can't possibly be serio-... Tch. Fine. Do what you want." That was one of the only times you have ever heard him stutter and the only time you have ever seen him blush.

-Likes to watch you work, but you always do it while he's working. He also enjoys just being next to you while you draw. The calmness around you is so relaxing not to mention a nice change of pace.

-Loves finding the little drawings you leave around the medibay. They're especially helpful when he has difficult and/or drunk patients come in. He always looks at the one you left on his desk. It's a chibi of you smiling and saying, "Hang in there, Doc. I love you!" He did get onto you for calling him Doc, but he could never get rid of it. Though he will cover it if Whirl, Swerve, or Rodimus comes in for a che- Wait. How the hell did you get one on the ceiling!?!

-Has never and will never ask you to do anything with his interface panels open. If you ask him, he always says, "... I'm too old for this shit," and walks away from you.

-If you give him something small he asks you to hold onto it for him. If you make something small, but personal for him he may put it in his hab suite or put it on the glass of the medibay cabinets. He does have a framed drawing of a picture that was taken with you on his shoulder by Rewind on his desk.

-If he sees you getting rid of something he doesn't question it. You can always make more. But if you try to erase something you've drawn around the medibay he gets mad. "Excuse you. You already gave that to me. Now scram or go do something else. I'm working he- WHIRL, SIT YOUR ASS DOWN! NO, DON'T TOUCH THAT!"

-Lost his shit when Whirl put a hole in the portrait of the three medics. Ultra Magnus had to stop him. "And what do you think you were doing?" "Examining his brain." "YOU WERE BEATING HIM OVER THE HEAD WITH A WRENCH!!!" "Oh, was I? I get those two mixed up all the time." Got arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-Won't participate in anything art wise with you. It's just not his thing. He'd rather you do it and watch you.

-Likes when you draw other members of the crew. Especially his fellow medics and Ten. (But don't think he didn't notice you staring fondly at that drawing on your desk, First Aid. You better not.)

Swerve:

-Most of the works he's in are set in the bar or in his hab suite watching soap operas. Your favorite is a painting of a picture you took of him laughing while mixing a drink behind the bar. His favorite is the portrait of you and him sitting at the bar (while it was empty) grinning and holding hands.

-He cherishes everything you make for him. His room is covered in your art. He has dozens of the little sketches you make around his recharge slab along with the hundred or so drawings of you and him that he's asked for you to make. If he's having a bad day and you aren't around he looks at them.

-Hordes all of your art. If you make something it is not to be destroyed EVER. If he finds you getting rid of anything he immediately runs over and takes it from you. "No! Not allowed!" And puts them with the rest in his room.

-Has drawings and paintings and sketches of the crew hanging out at Swerve's proudly displayed around the bar. Loves when bots gather around them to laugh at the memories.

-Would never have the courage to ask you to draw him with his interface panels open, but he wants you to. He's watched Titanic too many times. He's had you watch Titanic too many times. You've watched Titanic too many times. You refuse to watch Titanic again. When you ask him if he'd like you to "paint him like one of your French girls" his face turns pink with energon and his fans turn on almost immediately. Of course, he says yes.

-LOVES the little drawings you leave on his bar. Had Brainstorm make a clear nontoxic spray so they would stay there in exchange for free drinks for the night. Threw a glass at Whirl's head when he accidentally scratched one off. Was chased around the ship by a pissed helicopter. Was rescued by Ultra Magnus. Was arrested by Ultra Magnus.

-He loves to stare dreamily at the chibi sketch of you blowing a kiss and saying, "I love you, Swerve!"

-Loves to paint with you, but thinks he's horrible so he doesn't do it too often unless you beg him. Loves to watch you paint on and with Ten.

-Does get extremely jealous if you draw someone else more than twice in a row. He's so worried you're going to leave him for someone else. "So how come you've been drawing Rodimus so much lately?" "He's Rodimus. He asked me to."

[xarciel]

Why Megatron’s Redemption Arc Falls Flat - Part 1

So the intention was to have this out before LL #22, which it kind of is?? Disregarding the leak, which I haven’t read yet - but since Megatron’s back in the picture again, I wanted to go over why I don’t feel his redemption arc works. This is going to be a 2-part post, with Part 1 here based on how Megs’ arc affects his character narrative, and Part 2 (which I’ll probably post within the week), will be about how Megs’ arc functions on a meta level, and how those meta-textual details are used to highlight and hide different parts of his story.

To start, a recap on what a redemption arc is: a character making up for past mistakes - a process of self-reflection and action taken to make amends for things they’ve done in the past.

One really good example of this in the TF comics so far is Drift. High ranking Decepticon general switches sides late in the war, joining the Black Ops equivalent of the Autobots, specifically so that he can go in and take on the worst aspects of his former faction. He uses religion to soothe his guilt and acknowledges that he’s made enemies of most everyone he’s likely to meet - the Decepticons for defecting, and the Autobots for being a Decepticon. He uses that to his advantage to protect his friend (Rodimus) from punishment, and uses his time in exile to try and right as many wrongs as possible in an attempt to balance his karmic scale. Is it a healthy approach? Not entirely. But is it a believable, emotionally strong character arc? Absolutely.

So we’ve seen a redemption arc done right. But then we get to Megatron’s. Leader of a war faction that committed genocide on billions of sentient beings under his orders denounces the faction under duress and gets put in a leadership position of a small band of generally Autobot aligned Cybertronians, becomes a pacifist and then is allowed to teach lessons on the ship. When he is confronted by the DJD angry about his abandonment of the movement he convinces his teammates to stay on the planet to defend organics and fight while he directs from the back. After deciding to abandon his vow of pacifism he kills the DJD and restores his Decepticon badge, is saved by his teammates, and reverts back to his Autobot allegiance. He and the team are then thrust into an alternate world where the Decepticon movement never began and Cybertron is under totalitarian rule, again commands a force from the back, before remaining behind in this universe to begin the Decepticon movement again, so they may rise up against their Functionist masters - but this time, he will do it ‘right’.

I mean, what? Did anybody else see the huge blip in his supposed redemption there?

Let me make my position clear. I don’t like this arc. I don’t like how Megatron’s personality turns on a dime, and we are expected to believe that this is because he has been redeemed. Because he hasn’t.

Megatron’s biggest concern is his reputation. He only changes his ways when he steps back and realises ‘shit, I’m the villain in this story’ - he didn’t win the war, which means he’s not the conquering hero, which means he doesn’t get to write the history books now. No, he’s staring down the barrel at a future of hatred and blame that he does not think he deserves. That’s what motivates him to twist the trial in his favour. That’s what motivates him to distance himself from the Decepticon narrative. That’s what motivates him to confront the DJD. And that’s what motivates him to try and reclaim that mantle in the Functionist universe. It’s all about his damn ego.

And he knows how to play the game. He’s a master manipulator, and sometimes his lies are blatant as he tries to play the good guy card. When he wakes up with Tailgate preparing to perform mnemosurgery, he says later to Cyclonus ‘I wouldn’t have hurt him. I hope you know that.’ Bull fucking shit. When Rung plans to disbar himself from practicing, he first tries to prevent Rung from handing in his resignation by claiming that Rung ‘deserves’ to continue in his role. When he’s met with resistance he tells Rung he should let his patients know, and that from there they can decide if they want to see him. Rung shoots this down pretty damn quick though - because Rung knows that he is the voice of experience in this situation, and that therefore it is his duty to do the right thing. This is in direct contradiction to what we’ve seen of Megatron. If Megatron had showed the same sense of responsibility, he would never have taken up the mantle of leadership again in the Functionist universe. He knows what happened last time. But he leaves his new people uninformed on the assumption that he can objectively monitor himself, he is setting them up for disaster.

Which brings us back to this: Megatron doesn’t care about the people he’s hurt, or about the lives or planets he’s ravaged. He only cares about his own story.

The unleashing of Megatron upon a Cybertron that doesn’t know what he’s been doing for the past four million years is treated within the narrative as something wonderful, a chance for a new beginning, but really? Megatron gets a chance to start his story again, from scratch, but all those people he killed? The lives he destroyed? They don’t matter to him, and they’re not supposed to matter to the audience either. Megatron gets a clean slate, and meanwhile, the rest of the cast goes back to cleaning up the messes he left behind.

Megatron doesn’t deserve a clean slate. He needs to confront the results of his past – something that the canon lets him get away without. At no point does Megatron speak to any cons who suffered for his war, they never visit places Megatron has pillaged for resources, and when people do try to hold him responsible, they are positioned as the bad guys. Megatron talks about how being on the LL is the happiest time of his life, and really that makes a lots of sense. He’s been elevated to a position of power, like he always wanted, he’s being respected as an academic, like he always wanted, and he is working with an isolated group of people who are all treated as equals, like he wanted. The big thing he conveniently forgets, however, is that he’s not responsible for any of this. All this success Megatron is receiving? That all comes from the Autobots. Could you imagine he would show as much mercy if he had won the war? But no, this is Megatron’s story. As long as he is happy, he does not need to bother himself with the mess he left behind.

Megatron’s redemption arc falls flat for me because this is not the Megatron that we’ve seen in the IDW verse for the last umpteen years. This is an entirely different creature, and significant work was done to make him as sympathetic as possible, and to make the audience forget who Megatron truly is.

For a meta-textual analysis of how that is done, stay tuned for Part 2 [which will be linked here when complete].

[starvonnie]

Hello! Do you write starrod? If so, harm? You’re awesome by the way :)

So, uh…. this prompt took a hold of me and I hope this answers the “do you write starrod” question because the answer is an emphatic “YES” while I cry because I’m never going to finish my ongoing with these two :’)

Rodimus’ throat burned.  Fire and fury burst forth froma voice box that had just last night whispered sweet nothings.  He shookwith rage.  He spat every horrible thing that crossed his processor 

“Why won’t you fight back?” Rodimus screeched.  He tooka step towards him and Starscream flinched.  His wings sank so low theynearly disappeared behind his back, but he could see the barely contained furyin his optics.  He’d looked into them enough to know.  

More quietly—gently, even—Rodimus said, “I can tell you’remad at me.  Why won’t you fight back?”

More words, angry words, sat on his glossa, waiting to bespewed.  He’d had so much more to say.  They tasted bitter now. Like bile.  And they felt… poisoned, somehow.

“Starscream…” Rodimus reaches out to touch him, and again,he flinched away.  He went so far as to take a step away. “Wait.  Starscream, do you think… I’m… I’m not like him.”

Static crackled around Starscream’s optics when he looked athis conjunx.  He blinked it away.  “You sound like him.”

“I… Starscream, I’m sorry.  I would never lay a handon you.  I’m just mad and…” Again, his attempt to comfort him justpushed him away.  “Okay.  I’m gonna go into the living room and I’mgoing to calm down.  I’ll be there if you want to talk or anythingelse.  And if you need space from me I’ll sleep on the couch.  But Iwant to talk.  Eventually.  Because I get mad.  Which I shouldprobably work on, but… I don’t know I just know that we’re gonna rightsometimes and I don’t want to make you feel like this.”

Starscream didn’t say anything and he didn’t look at him.

“I hope we’re still okay,” Rodimus went on.  “Because Istill love you.  I never stopped.  And I won’t.  And I’m nevergoing to hurt you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”  He sounded likesomeone being strangled while he said this.

“I’m not.”  His instincts wanted him to leave a kiss onStarscream’s cheek and give his hand a comforting squeeze, but he abstained, ashard as it was.  “I’ll be in the living room.  For anything or nothing. Okay?”

He left, his spark in his tank and his tank cramping so thateverything felt tight and so, so wrong.  He regretted everything he’dsaid.  He should have known better.  He’d seen the scars that marredStarscream’s protoform.  For Primus’ sake he’d listened to all thehorrible memories Starscream had told him years after they’d been together. 

They’d fought before but it was always bickering.  Itwas always such inconsequential things that they wouldn’t even remember in themorning.  But this.  This couldn’t be brushed off or ignored.

And what did he know?  He hadn’t been there.  Hedidn’t know what—

No.  No, he was calming down.  He should hear himout.  Had he really even talked about howfucked up this whole thing had made him? Maybe.  They’d shared a lot ofstuff over the years, but really this hadn’t come up.  They danced around this topic as much as theydanced around Starscream’s past relationship with Megatron.  Neither of them wanted to face their demons.

Rodimus didn’t bother to turn on the light as he walked intothe living room.  With the moon prettymuch full, moonlight spilled in through the window and turned everythingsilver.  He kind of wished it was pitch.  He wanted to pretend the world didn’t existfor a while.  That this problem didn’texist.  That their relationship didn’texist, so he didn’t have to worry about losing it.  

He wished he’d never opened his mouth.

He sat down on the couch, awash in the moon’s exposinglight.  He felt on display for the worldon this, frankly, uncomfortable couch. So much of their stupid furniture was for show.  Only what lay in their berth room had beendesigned for comfort.  Their one safespace.  The one Rodimus had defiled withhis harsh words.

Unable to rest, let alone sleep, he stared out of thewindow.  He didn’t look at anything,though.  He just stared out over theunquiet city.  His home.  His only home since the Lost Light.  The home he’dcreated with the mech he’d spent the last while screaming at.

Time passed.  It musthave.  It always did.  No matter how slow it felt, time passed.  It couldn’t be stopped or halted.  It paid no mind to their suffering.  It carried on.  Ceaseless. If only he could hit “pause.” Just for a little bit.  Just untilhe got things back to normal.

He hoped they would get back to normal.

The passage of time revealed itself in making Rodimus’ opticcovers sag with exhaustion.  But as tiredas he was, he couldn’t sleep.  Hewouldn’t sleep until he knew what Starscream had chosen, and really, heshouldn’t choose him.  He was angry, andhe held grudges, and he hated himself so much he couldn’t even bear to returnto the same grounds he’d walked eons ago. Before the war.  Before the Matrixhad touched him.  Before all of hisfuck-ups and mistakes.  The big ones,anyway.  Before he’d been anything morethan another dirty gutter mech.

Rodimus turned his helm when he heard movement, and hecouldn’t stifle his smile when he saw Starscream standing at the end of thehall.  He stayed completely still asStarscream took cautious steps toward the couch.  He even held hisventilation’s as Starscream sat down.  

“Starscream—“ Rodimus bit his glossa and stopped the barbedwords right there.  His fury came too fast.  Too recklessly.  “I can’t go back there.  Even if they rebuilteverything exactly as it was—and they can’t—it won’t be the same.  And Iguess that’s good.  I’m obviously not living in the gutters anymore, but Ijust can’t live there and pretend everything’s okay.  Nyon had to berebuilt because of me.  I just… I can’t.”

“I can’t not go,”Starscream said.  “This project is too important.  This is aboutCybertron, rebuilt after the war.  And… I don’t want to see it withoutyou.”

Rodimus looked down at his hands.  And soon,Starscream’s hand.  Over his.

“I just can’t.”  Rodimus wanted to pull his hands awayfrom Starscream, but after everything that had happened, he knew he had toleave them where they were.

Starscream leaned against him.  “Okay.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Rodimus said.  “It’s notpermanent, right?”

“No.  But it’s not a short stay.  It could be ayear.  Or longer.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”  Starscream brought his legs up onto the couchand rested his helm in Rodimus’ lap. “It’s being promoted as a city of unification.  A new place for Autobots and Decepticons toget a new start.  I have to be there torepresent the population.  And especiallyfor ‘reformed’ Decepticons.  It’s allslag, but if I don’t go it will ruin my reputation.”

Rodimus swallowed around the lump in his throat.  “Well, hey, what’s a year, right?”

“I don’t know if I can sleep without you anymore.”

Rodimus’ spark skipped a beat.  Gently, carefully, herested a hand on the side of Starscream’s helm.  “C’mon, Star.  I’mjust a space heater.  We’ll getcha set up with a nice heated berth andyou’ll be asleep before you remember I’m not there.”

Starscream shook his helm.  “How are you this dense?”

Fingers so careful they ghosted along plating, Rodimusstroked his helm.  It felt like someone was sitting on his chest. This all felt way too much like a break-up and he couldn’t handle anotherfailed relationship.  He couldn’t take losing him.

“When was the last time you had a good sleep?” Starscreamasked.  “Since before me.  When was the last time?”

Before Rodimus had much time to think, Starscream said, “Whatabout the Lost Light?  Did you sleep well there?

Rodimus shrugged.  “Pretty well.”

“Well.  I haven’t made it through a night.  Notuntil you started sleeping with me.  I don’t know what it is about you orus but I don’t want to go back to that.”  Starscream laughed a sadlaugh.  “Primus, even now I feel like I could just fall asleep righthere.  And I hate you.  I hate how much I love you.  How much Ineed you.  This is why you never get used to good things.  They neverlast.”

Rodimus curled down over Starscream.  He hugged himawkwardly and he didn’t care.  He just needed to.

“I need you too, okay?” he whispered, barely audible.  “Iliterally have no idea what the frag I’m doing with my life now but I know Iwant you in it.  You’re my constant.  But I just can’t go toNyon.  Or New Nyon or whatever, and I don’t know what to do.”  Hetrembled, scared and confused, wanting to comfort his conjunx, but needingcomfort himself.  Too fucked up with hisown problems to help his conjunx.  Toostubborn to try.  Unable to forgivehimself.  “I just know that I don’t wantto lose you.”

“Then come with me,” Starscream begged.  His hands reached for Rodimus, joining him inthis awkward hug.  “New Nyon is about newstarts for everyone.  You included.”

Rodimus shook his helm. “I’m the exception.  I don’t deserve a new start there.”

“Yes you do you idiot.”  He said this affectionately, with pain thickin his voice.  

He just kept shaking his helm, whispering, “No, no, no, no…”

“You did what you had to,” Starscream tried to reason withhim.  “What else could you have done?”

Rodimus said nothing. He just hugged him even tighter.

Starscream nudged him. “Sit up.”

And he did, after his initial resistance.  He still clung to Starscream, and thankfullyit didn’t seem like he wanted to pull away.

Starscream’s mouth now near his audial, he said, “I know youdon’t want to talk about what happened. I only know second-hand what happened that day.  But Rodimus, what you did was notmalicious.  I asked you to join theDecepticons because I believed you understood what we stood for.  At least what we stood for in thebeginning.  Now…”

“Please stop,” Rodimus begged pitifully.

“Fine.  Then I’ll askyou this instead.”  He pushed Rodimusaway, and it had to be a rough shove given how tight Rodimus was holding ontohim.  He kept a hold of his shoulders,though.  So that Rodimus had to look himin the optic.  “Do you still see me asthe Decepticon I was?”

Rodimus blinked a lot and averted his gaze.  “What kind of—of course I don’t!”

“Look at me,” Starscream demanded.  “In the optic.  Say it again.”

He did, after some difficulty.  Forcing the shakiness from his voice, hesaid, “I don’t see you as a Decepticon.”

“So.  Your opinion ofme has changed?”

Rodimus nodded.

“And you’d say I’m a better person?”  He smirked a little.  “At least mildly better?”

Rodimus couldn’t help a small smile of his own.  “You’re still an aft, but you want what’sbest for our kind.  If that’s what youmean.”

“So I’ve changed?  Forthe better.”

Rodimus nodded.

“And you can’t think that about yourself, why?”

Rodimus shook him off. “It’s not the same.  I’m notasking you to face your past mistakes. I’m not rubbing your face in them.”

“You could argue I’m part of the reason for why the rest ofour planet needs to be rebuilt.”

“Yeah, well, the NAILs will argue that we both fragged up the planet.  They see us both as terrible people.”

“Rodimus.”  Starscreamsighed.  “I get this is important to you,or a big part of your life, or—”

“My biggest failing as a bot.”

Starscream rolled his optics, but combatted the harshnesswith a gentle caress to Rodimus’ cheek. “People don’t remember that you did this.  There aren’t banners or plaques or whatever inNew Nyon telling people what you did.  Ican’t say no one remembers, but everyone who does doesn’t blame you.  They know whyyou did it.  You made a difficultdecision that no one else wanted to make. You weren’t the one who put everyone in that situation.  And I know you would have saved them if youcould.  I’m gonna be blunt here, Rodimus:this isn’t about you.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I—”

“Shut up!”  Rodimus shoved him away, and Starscreamflinched even further, and now they were on opposite ends of the couch, rightwhere they’d started.  Guilt floodedRodimus’ frame as quickly as the anger had.

Starscream stood. “Fine.  Maybe it’s good that thisends.”

“Wait.  Please, I’msorry.”  Rodimus pressed the balls of hishands against his optics.  He couldn’tbear to check if Starscream stayed or not.

“You won’t even try,”Starscream said, and Rodimus stifled a sigh of relief after hearing hisvoice.  “I don’t want to go.  I don’t want to have to force you to go.  I can’t, obviously, but I’m not going tojuggle you around everything else.  Ifyou’re living with me, that’s different.”

“Come back,” Rodimus begged. “Please.”  He let his hands fallinto his lap.  “I’m not going to hurtyou.  I won’t.”

“I know.  That’s notthe problem.”

“But—”

“Why should I come back, hm? Because the way I see it, this is an ultimatum.  You either come with me and we stay together,or you can stay here, and you can have the apartment.  I’ll keep paying for it.  I don’t do long-distance.  So. I’m not going to drag this out for as many days as we have left if youwon’t come with me.  If you will…”  His voice softened.  “If you’ll try.  You haven’t even seenthe city.  It’s beautiful, Rodimus.  But if you try.  Then.  Then I’ll come back.  But I know now.  Your problems are not my fault, and I’m notabout to let someone else take out their aggression on me.”

“Please, I’m sorry, I—”

“And I’m not going to let you guilt me back, either.  Allyou have to do is tell me you’ll try, and then you fragging try.  I’m not asking for much.”

“You’re asking for everything.”

Starscream scoffed.  “We’veall had to deal with stuff we’d rather not deal with after the war.  You’re not special.  You just shove it down until you don’t haveto think about it anymore and then you act like it doesn’t bother you.  But it does.  If it didn’t, you’d have no problem comingwith me.  And really, Rodimus, you coulduse this as an opportunity to held rebuild Nyon.  Of course it won’t be the same.  Nothing’s ever going to be like it was.  You have to accept that.”

Rodimus kept quiet, hanging his helm.  

“You don’t have the luxury to feel bad about yourselfanymore,” Starscream continued.  “I’mbeing harsh because being nice has gotten me nowhere with you.  Come, or don’t.  Just make the damn decision.”

Rodimus could hear the hurt in Starscream’s voice.  How “don’t” strained on the way out.  He noticed how tightly he held his field tohis frame, and it was especially jarring after all these years of being in thethick of it.  After he’d coaxed it out,of course.  It had taken a lot of timefor Starscream to tell him anything even remotely personal.

“I wouldn’t ask you to, like, move in with Megatron,” Rodimuscountered weakly.  And regretfully.  He regretted the words before he’d evenfinished saying them.

“Mm hm.  Well, I’m notasking you to blow the damn thing up again, now am I?”

Rodimus hugged himself. “Sorry.  I know it’s not reallythe same.  I just… it’s hard.”

“I know.”  Compassionfound home in Starscream’s tone.  “I knowit’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, but neither is breaking up.  At least, I hope it isn’t.  For you.”

He shook his helm. “No.  It’s not.  I love you too much to just walk away.  I mean, we built a life here.  And it’s good.  It’s so good. I don’t want to lose that.”

After a brief silence, Starscream returned to the couch.  He didn’t try to reach out for his conjunx.  “What we have here,” he pointed to his spark,“we’ll have no matter where we are.  AndNew Nyon isn’t forever.  It doesn’t haveto be.  Once the city’s settled andeverything’s in place, we can go somewhere else.  Though I’m hoping you can find home again—anew home—there.  I bet I can even set youup with a job where you’ll help to protect the city, and the peace.  Primus knows we’ll need bots for that.  And if it doesn’t work, you can always comeback here.”  Finally, he touchedRodimus.  A gentle hand resting on hisarm.  “We’ll figure this out.  Together.”

“Stop being nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“We get a lot of things we don’t deserve,” Starscreamsaid.  “Be thankful this thing’s nice.”

With his helm hanging, Rodimus turned until it just touchedStarscream’s shoulder.  “Okay.  I’ll try.”

Starscream lifted Rodimus’ chin and pressed a kiss to hisforehelm.  “That’s all I’m asking.  And for you to keep me warm at night.”

Rodimus pulled Starscream against him and tucked his helminto the crook of his neck.  “Andsafe.  I’m supposed to protect you.  Not make you afraid of me.  I’m gonna work on my anger, okay?  I’m not gonna be like him.”

Starscream’s gentle chuckle tickled Rodimus.  “I don’t need protection.”

“Well, I’m gonna do it anyways.”  He kissed the side of Starscream’s helm.  “Cause I love ya.”

“Idiot.”  Starscreamnuzzled closer.  “I love you, too.”

[roseymoseyberry]

Bite the Bullet (one-shot)

Look. Look.

We all make choices sometimes.

And somtimes those choices lead to the realization that you might just like Megatron with red minibots.

Anyway, shout out to @canonmorelikecanyounot (18+ blog) because this is entirely her fault for her tags about Megatron flirting with Cliffjumper while in gun mode.

And man was it fun to write some v indulgent smut while also getting to play around with g1 silliness.

Title: Bite the Bullet

Series: G1

Ship: Megatron/Cliffjumper

Rating/warnings: Explicit for not so safe or sane gun play, one of the characters being in their alt-mode, technically dubcon since Megatron is a prisoner (but he’s v into it), annnd yeah. It’s gun fucking and Megatron is the gun.

For a refresher course on what exactly Megatron is like as a gun, here’s the main cartoon ref I used and the real life inspiration for his alt-mode.

“So you’re that type of mech, hm?”

Cliffjumper’s frown deepened and he barely turned his helm to glare over his shoulder.

However, he quickly found it was difficult to know where to point his glare when the enemy was stuck in his alt-mode. If he was a car it would be easy, and Cliffjumper had some idea of where to look at a flight-mode. He wasn’t dumb.

But it was a harder call when the leader of the Decepticons was a gun.

The muzzle maybe? But it was turned away from him since Megatron was laid out on the prison berth parallel to the cell barrier. The scope would have been his next guess, but it was also aimed at the wall. All Cliffjumper could see was the butt of the gun and the trigger and all along the bottom edge of the barrel.

Slag though, Cliffjumper almost didn’t mind since it gave him the excuse to drag his optics along the full length of the gun.

No, not gun. Not just a gun.

Megatron.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The minibot kept expecting the gun to move, to at least twitch or roll, anything. He couldn’t fully comprehend the fact that anyone could have an alt-mode that completely lacked mobility.

But Megatron just continued to lay there in the exact same spot as when Optimus placed him there the day before.

“I should think it’s obvious, Autobot,” Megatron replied, his tone amused. Cliffjumper’s hands fisted at his sides and his frown tightened.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Megatron’s laugh grated on his audials.

“You like my form, don’t you?”

His spark felt as if it had stopped cold in his chest. Cliffjumper gaped at the Decepticon before squaring his shoulders and pinching his lips tight. His head turned away sharply to look at the wall.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, so can it, rust bucket.”

“I think you do.”

“I said can it!”

“Your friend wasn’t subtle,” Megatron continued, unperturbed, and Cliffjumper felt his face heat up. No, he supposed Bumblebee’s “Behave” with a wink when they had switched off was pretty obvious. It wasn’t exactly something he was shy about admitting to normally – they all had their kinks, some so specific that his seemed mild in comparison – but Cliffjumper wished now he had kept his big mouth shut.

He was gonna get Bumblebee back after this. Maybe a good right hook to the noggin—

“You want to frag me, don’t you, little Autobot?”

Shame sparked across Cliffjumper’s circuits as he felt his array warm and his interface protocols online in a hurry.

“Sh-shut up!”

“You do,” Megatron said, dragging the last vowel out mockingly. Cliffjumper’s engine growled, even as his face burned. “No need to be ashamed. You’re hardly the first, and you won’t be the last. I am well constructed after all, and you will not find a more destructive weapon to hold in your hands.”

Cliffjumper gritted his dentae. He shouldn’t rise to the bait, he knew that, but he hated the feeling of unspoken words on his glossa.

“So you’re a nice gun. So what? What would I want with you anyway?” Cliffjumper spat out.

The gun hummed with obvious delight.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re well aware. It’s quite something to hold such power in your hands, to touch and perhaps to even taste that strength, isn’t it?” Cliffjumper’s fingers twitched and his mouth watered and his spark pulsed quickly in his chest. “And I know you’ll agree that to have destruction at your fingertips and taunt fate with it pressed to your frame can bring about a rush like none other.” His plating shifted and, slowly, spread out so that the growing heat could leak out without needing to turn on his cooling fans. “And while you may be small, Autobot, you won’t have any trouble taking my barrel inside you, will you?”

With the clamping together of his thighs, Cliffjumper’s valve throbbed behind his panel.

Frag.

“I’m not stupid, and I’m sure as slag not suicidal, so why don’t you--”

“But you are interested.”

Cliffjumper turned on his heel to glower at the Megatron again, his arms crossed over his chest. “Not in having you blow me up from the inside out!”

The gun cackled and Cliffjumper’s plating flared irritably.

“Is that all that holds you back? Then rest easy,” Megatron insisted casually. “In this form, while I am much more powerful, I am otherwise in most every other way the same as any other gun. And I assume you know how to safely indulge yourself, hm?”

Cliffjumper ground his dentae until he could swear he tasted sparks on his glossa. It didn’t help to fight the burning heat flooding his face or to ignore the distinct sensation of lubricant slicking his valve.

“You honestly think I’ll believe you can’t pull your own trigger?”

Primus, it was so weird to have this conversation when Megatron didn’t move at all. His voice was all that Cliffjumper had to go off of.

Did that immobility really go that far?

“Why else do you think I would let my lieutenants have the pleasure?”

A shiver raced down Cliffjumper’s spine at the thought of that very pleasure, to squeeze that trigger and feel that recoil for himself, because it – he – had to have a nasty kick. Frag, he would give anything to feel that for himself.

“And—and what do you get out of this?”

“Relief from the processor-rusting boredom of not only being a prisoner, but unable to move at that,” Megatron explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. However, his voice took on something too much like a purr when he continued, “And it’s not every day I find such an appreciative audience. I would very much enjoy having an adorable little Autobot like yourself lapping at my muzzle.”

If Cliffjumper didn’t know better, he’d think his face was melting off from how boiling hot it felt.

His hands were clenched so tight he was scrapping paint off his palms.

“Better yet would be the desperate clenching of your valve as you come undone around my barrel.”

Cliffjumper managed to keep the whine from escaping his vocalizer.

However, he lost the battle with his interface array as his panel opened with an audible shlick.

“Shut up!” he spat when Megatron began to snicker, and despite himself, Cliffjumper reached up to offline the cell barrier.

Compared with the rest of the hefty weapon, Megatron’s stock seemed nearly delicate. Thin and round and long, the only interruption to its sleekness was the lip where one half could slide into the other to collapse the stock.

And that lip caught on Cliffjumper’s anterior node as he rocked his hips along the slick length, trapping the stock between his valve lips to rub himself against. A grunt escaped his open mouth and his hold on the grip tightened.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?”

“And you never shut up, do you?!” Cliffjumper complained as he pressed the stock harder against himself. Finding a position had been awkward, but finally the Autobot had settled for straddling the stock and leaning over the rest of the gun so the muzzle faced away from him. One hand braced against the berth while the other was wrapped around the grip of the gun, fingers stroking and squeezing the unyielding metal as best he could while holding the rest of the gun to his frame, slowly warming it with how hot his frame was in comparison.

Another roll of his hips had Cliffjumper’s node catching on the stock’s lip again and he groaned as he repeated the motion yet again.

“Yet you persist. Am I that that irresistible, Autobot?”

Cliffjumper hated how the taunting only had his hips bucking harder.

“Arrogant glitch!”

But there was no denying the fact that Cliffjumper couldn’t take his optics off the length of the gun. The weight of Megatron in his hand grounded him while the beautifully maintained chrome caught and held his attention as it glittered and shimmered with his every movement. His forefinger stroked the trigger guard longingly while he leaned further forward, following the lines of the barrel as he got close enough that it wouldn’t take any effort at all to close his lips around the side of the long cylinder.

His hot ex-vent fogged the sleek metal.

Cliffjumper licked his lips before gritting his teeth.

“Go on then. Why not take a little taste?”

As much as the minibot wanted to argue, the fact was he wanted that taste badly. Cliffjumper told himself that surely just one lick wouldn’t be so bad. Just along the side, nothing dangerous, just a taste.

One small stroke with the tip of his glossa though only made the cloying hunger in Cliffjumper’s spark worse, made the chasm of need that much deeper, and a whine was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Megatron tasted like cleaner and ions and smoke, and Cliffjumper opened his mouth wide to flatten his whole glossa around the curve of the barrel, dragging along the completely unmarred surface, letting his senses be consumed by the heady taste. It only strengthened the closer his glossa lapped towards the muzzle.

“Take what you want.”

Impulse beat out self-preservation. Cliffjumper had to tilt his chassis, letting his forehelm rest on the berth and his hips tilt up so that he could shift the angle of the gun. Within a few moments he managed to get it just right so the stock was still pressed hard against his valve but the muzzle was aimed right at his face.

And that managed to give him pause for a second as the realization of just how stupid this whole thing was hit him.

Unfortunately, it also set his face aflame and lubricant dripped freely along the stock.

Cliffjumper opened his mouth and shifted the gun -- Megatron -- until the muzzle was between his lips and his glossa could plunge into the interior of the barrel.

The taste was caustic and burned his glossa and his proccessor swam in the overwhelming rush of arousal.

His hips jerked down hard on the stock captured between his valve lips, his anterior node finding the stock’s lip again to grind back and forth across, and his calipers clenched on nothing as overload took Cliffjumper by surprise. Cliffjumper clamped his thighs together as a moaned curse tumbled out of his mouth, muffled around Megatron’s barrel.

“What a good little Autobot,” Megatron purred from between Cliffjumper’s legs, and the minibot hated how it prompted another throbbing wave of pleasure through his array.

Cliffjumper was quick to lift his helm up and away and spit out a “Frag you” as he pushed up onto his knees. Megatron’s barrel had lines of his oral fluid streaked across it, his hammer and scope had splatters of transfluid across them, and his stock was absolutely soaked, drips of lubricant falling from the length to pool on the berth. Cliffjumper’s frame shuddered at the mess he had left all over the gorgeous gun and the burning taste of danger on his glossa. A low simmering heat reignited in his array before it could even fully cycle down from the overload.

“I’d much rather frag you.”

Cliffjumper licked his lips and his calipers cycled opened in preparation for what it already knew he would let it have.

Megatron had been aimed right at his helm and hadn’t pulled his trigger.

Maybe couldn’t.

"Fine. Why the frag not?"

It was on his back, servo around Megatron's barrel as he pressed the muzzle in past the soaked rim of his valve, staring down at the Decepticon's gorgeous alt-mode as he pierced himself on it, that Cliffjumper finally noticed the way the scope glinted at him. It was slight, easy to miss.

"Can you see outta that thing?"

"Perhaps," Megatron answered, his tone amused as it had been the whole time, but there was something deeper to it now, gravelly in a way that put even his usual voice to shame. "Would that stop you?"

The edge of the muzzle grated along Cliffjumper's valve walls as he pulled it deeper, just on the edge of pain, and it pulled a moan from his lips.

"If your talking didn't, then I dunno why you think that would."

Megatron chuckled and the scope lens flickered again.

That was one question answered at least.

Not that it mattered really. Not when Cliffjumper had the long, unyielding length of Megatron's barrel pushing in, bit by bit, stretching him so gloriously.

Once Cliffjumper had as much of it as he dared press into his frame, he carefully pulled and pushed the gun, slowly thrusting it into himself.

"F-frag--hah!"

"Is that really all you can take, Autobot?"

Cliffjumper grit his dentae and offlined his optics, wondering if he couldn't just ignore Megatron as he took his pleasure. But only a few seconds passed before he gazed down the length of his body again, watched the way the Megatron’s barrel disappeared past his stretched rim. The most powerful gun Cliffjumper had ever held in his hands, and his throbbing valve was enveloping it in wet heat. Each time he dragged it out, the way his lubricant shone on the black metal was too gorgeous to not watch glitter.

"Come now. Let me fill you completely.”

Cliffjumper’s hips jerked and his hands pushed before he could even think to argue.

Inner calipers gave way and Cliffjumper threw his head back with a shout as the muzzle kissed the very back of his valve. His outer most calipers cycled down as the edge of the muzzle was engulfed, settling snuggly around the thinner barrel and holding the entirety of the muzzle inside his frame.

Keeping Megatron trapped in his fluttering valve as Cliffjumper overloaded around him.

Cliffjumper arched his back as he whimpered, defenseless against the raw pleasure assaulting his sensornet as he shuddered.

“Mmm. Very nice.”

“Get melted,” Cliffjumper muttered breathlessly, internally embarrassed by how little fight was actually in his voice. In fact, he sounded well fragged, static hissing around the edges. It was with trembling hands that Cliffjumper carefully pulled the gun from his abused valve, pausing when aftershocks would have him clenching around the muzzle again.

Once free, Cliffjumper set Megatron down on the berth next to him, parallel to his frame, and then offlined his optics to give himself a moment to come down from the charged high. His valve felt empty but satiated.

“You made such a spectacular spectacle that I suppose you deserve something as a reward, don’t you agree?”

Cliffjumper onlined one optic and turned his head to glower at Megatron.

“I got what I wanted.”

“True. But I imagine that this will only sweeten the memory.”

Before Cliffjumper could think of anything to say to that, Megatron’s alt-form started to hum in a way that had nothing to do with a vocalizer. Cliffjumpers sensory systems were blinded by bright light and a deafening blast. The shock was enough to have his frame moving instantly, jumping and pushing himself off the berth to roll onto the floor with a yelp.

When Cliffjumper managed to reboot his optics and online them, it was to see the gun falling from where it had slammed against the wall from recoil, clattering to the floor.

And when Megatron’s form finally settled, it was with the muzzle nearly aimed at Cliffjumper.

The minibot stared, mouth agape, legs splayed open and frozen in place while his spark thundered in his chest.

“You—you—!”

“I never actually said I couldn’t pull my own trigger,” Megatron supplied, his tone smug, clearly pleased with himself.

And, despite himself – despite the spark-chilling realization that he had placed his life at Megatron’s mercy for an overload – Cliffjumper’s frame shuddered and his valve throbbed.

That damned scope flickered again, watching him.

Frag. Frag, frag, frag.

“You really are a fragged up little Autobot, aren’t you?”

Megatron was teasing him, and worst still, it nearly sounded like praise as well.

Cliffjumper’s face burned and outrage flooded his systems.

With an audible snap his panels closed and Cliffjumper scrambled to his feet, his engine growling threateningly.

“I outta throw you in a smelter myself, you no good slag-sucking decepti-creep!”

Megatron cackled as Cliffjumper berated him, occasionally slipping into genuine laughter when Cliffjumper demanded he stop laughing because he was being serious, slaggit!

Worst still was that Cliffjumper couldn’t just leave. He was the guard on duty, so he couldn’t leave Megatron alone down here, and he definitely couldn’t leave all of the sticky evidence of his activities with the Decepticon prisoner behind for anyone to find. Cliffjumper was pretty sure he would rather take a bullet to the processor than have to face Optimus if his leader knew what he had done.

Cliffjumper was stuck with the mouthy Decepticon for the rest of his shift.

So if he got a little enjoyment out of thoroughly cleaning Megatron’s gun form from his muzzle down to the end of his stock while cursing him out, well, Cliffjumper deserved something for his trouble.

“Soundwave.”

His lieutenant didn’t so much as look at him, busy with decrypting the code that held Megatron trapped in his alt-form. There was no doubt in Megatron’s processor though that he was listening. If ever there was a mech capable of multitasking efficiently, it was Soundwave.

After all, he had managed to keep Starscream distracted while sending Ravage to slip into the Autobot base, rescuing Megatron before the Autobots could even come to a consensus on what to do with their prisoner.

“What’s the name of that red minibot?”

This time Soundwave’s head did swivel to face Megatron’s scope.

“Cassette’s designation is--”

“No, no, not Rumble.” Megatron paused for a moment when Soundwave continued to stare at him. “Or whichever one painted himself red this week. I mean an Autobot.”

Soundwave’s head tilted.

“Three Aubobot minibots feature red paint.”

“The one with horns then.”

“Two Autobot minibots fit that description.”

Megatron growled. “The trigger happy one then!”

Soundwave’s head straightened as he nodded and said, “Minibot’s designation is Cliffjumper.”

“Cliffjumper, hm? A fitting name.” Megatron watched as Soundwave returned his full focus on the code that would soon free him again.

He couldn’t help a quiet chuckle to himself.

A fitting name indeed, and one Megatron would be sure to remember.