tenaciousflame

[tenaciousflame]

Sunlit Flowers

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[tenaciousflame]

:.☼.:

Ryuuken, turned by grayface magic into a form all too fitting for his name, made another loop through the air before spotting GZ and descending towards him. The pale dragon glinted in the light as he circled just above him, trying to calculate a landing—and then crashed into the ground with an awkwardness that contrasted starkly with his graceful flight.

His serpentine body curved in slender arcs as he stood in the cloud of dust, head bowed in slight embarrassment. “GZ!” the dragon spoke in Ryuuken's voice. “I don't know what happened to me, but...”

@tenaciousflame​

    GZ had returned from an outing with Ruri, which was not a common occurrence, but he was still attempting to improve his ability to occupy public spaces without intimidating nearby individuals in the process. Remaining within their home, training grounds, and competitive fields were far from being casual human social environments.

    But that had passed, and his attention had shifted to finding a fellow leaguer instead. He searched their fueling room, rec room, recharge stations, then walked out into their practice arena. Ryuuken was nowhere to be found, which caused him to frown and ponder over where else he might be.

    It had not occurred to GZ to look up. Why should it? Normally, Ryuuken could not fly.

[tenaciousflame]

M!A: Dragon time!!! Your muse is transformed into a dragon for 5 days!

:.☼.:

A firey glow overtakes his frame as he begins to morph, form blurring and growing longer, longer, longer. When it settles, metal has turned to cream-colored scales and a silky mane trails the length of a graceful serpentine form. Hands and pedes are replaced with slender legs ending in three-toed claws. Delicate horns antlers curve from behind small ears and a pair of long whiskers trail from near his snout.

Being in such a different shape—and more notably, one made of organic flesh—is alien and uncomfortable, but there is something almost natural about it at the same time. He can feel a power in his chest, primal and pure, and an instinct that tells him to let it flow through him.

His scales seem to glow when the sunlight hits them, and a few moments later he one with the golden rays, slender body arcing through the air as he learns the joy of wingless flight.

[tenaciousflame]

wild meadow lights

by Denny Bitte

[tenaciousflame]

what kind of art would someone make about you?

music

you are a breath of fresh air. you are soft and free. you disappear as quickly as you appear, and everyone wishes you had stayed around longer than you did. your voice is what makes people fall in love. everything you say is in harmonies and codes, and only the most experienced listeners can fully understand you. your presence is always enjoyed but you aren’t always given the praise you deserve; people will let you stay in the background. all you want is for someone to really listen to you.

[tenaciousflame]

autobotmedic​:

☴ ✚ ☶

    He gave a brief nod to the question and waited for Ironflame to set him down. After he had, Ratchet physically tested movement for his limbs and joints, as the fact that he was not losing energon did not mean he was as fit as he wanted to be. He was not pleased to find parts of one leg and his side that had taken the main impact… lacked appropriate response to certain commanded movements.

    The concussion must have hindered something(s) internal that would require a longer diagnostic process than a quick check to pin-point. Which also meant he was not going to be transforming at the moment either.

    “… Frag.” His helm dropped back in frustration. Despite his initial claim, he could not walk or drive. He had no time for this, and being carried, he was the one who was suppose to be carrying others.

    But he had little choice.

    “I.. spoke too soon,” Ratchet exvented wearily, resting a servo over his face. “Certain segments required for basic walking and transformation are being unresponsive.” There was no point in speculating details. He needed to decide what could be done now, to try to become functional enough that he could get back to work.

    His hand lowered, and optics shifted back to Ironflame. “If you can find a sheltered place to set me down again, I’ll focus on self-repair.”

:.☼.:

Ironflame watched as Ratchet tested his movements, trusting in his greater knowledge but still unable to help his lingering concern—which flared into open worry at the sound of the curse. He continued to listen though, and nodded when the medic was finished speaking.

He crouched beside him and positioned his arms around him, this time allowing him a chance to adjust for his comfort before tightening his grip and pressing back up to his pedes. Once he was confident Ratchet was secure, he once again began picking his way through the debris, walking as briskly as he dared. This battle may have been over, but one could never be sure if all the Decepticons were gone, and the scenery of broken buildings and scattered fires did not exactly put him at ease. Still... he lacked other options, and had someone to protect cradled in his arms. At least it was better than being alone.

Most of the structures in the area had either collapsed or looked as though they might do so at any moment, but eventually a promising shelter poked up from among the wreckage, the walls only partially demolished and the primary supports still in place. Ironflame ducked to enter through a torn opening, only to pause as nausea churned his tanks—there was a body just inside the entrance, mangled with wounds and oozing a putrid blend of energon and coolant.

Ironflame's field went flat and stiff as he swallowed down the familiar horror, no less sickening for all the exposure he's had to tolerate. He couldn't let it get to him now though, not with someone to protect, and so he steeled himself, arms tightening, and stepped over the broken husk.

Once they were inside he placed Ratchet down, then sat down beside him with a shaky exvent. At least they were safe for now... relatively. His field twisted with anxiety at the sound of a distant jet, but the fading noise indicated they were moving away.

He turned his attention—and his worries—back to Ratchet, rippling concern through the mess of his other feelings. “Are you okay? Can you repair yourself here?”

[tenaciousflame]

tempting colors

by Denny Bitte

[tenaciousflame]

[tenaciousflame]

@autobotmedic:

A wingless dragon, crafted from golden paper, has been left for Ironflame. Due to the complexity of its design, it did not need to be unfolded. Instead, glyphs flowed along the dragon’s lengthy body: [ Few have such inner and outer strength. Your sensitivity and care are not weaknesses, compassion is as powerful as your physical capabilities. You have managed to keep a gentle, beautiful soul, despite it all. That is an admirable feat. ]

:.☼.:

Ironflame's wheel-wings raised in curious attention when he saw the beautiful gift, then slowly lowered as he read the message. Oh... oh. He was getting emotional.

He brushed a digit ever so lightly along the shimmering folded body, then placed it with utmost care among his few belongings. He would always treasure this.

[tenaciousflame]

source

[tenaciousflame]

Art by  Simone Torcasio

[tenaciousflame]

:.☼.:

Ironflame hesitates, then looks up as Ratchet approaches. Oh... oh, he noticed. Maybe it would have been better to go and brood in his room, but.. ah, he hadn’t wanted to actually be alone...

As the medic’s field expands around him his own trembles, a mess of feelings far too ready to come tumbling out. He could not turn the company away even if he’d wanted to. His yes is implicit, not even direct in his field, but faced with this life they all have, his sensitive spark needs comfort like his frame needs energon—frequently, to prevent him from breaking. His gentleness was never meant for war.

He does not initiate leaning on Ratchet, uncertain in his interpretation of the wordless offer and not wanting to come off as needy... but somewhere in his hurting gaze there sparks a flicker of hope, yearning for the small comfort from anyone who will share it with him.

@tenaciousflame

Ironflame is sad. He’s often sad nowadays, because he hates everything about the war—so much hatred, so much death, so much loss. He would have fled from it if he had not had others to protect, but now there would be no way to leave regardless.

So he stays, and the memories and anxieties take their toll, this time in the form of a miserable field and drooping wheel-wings as he sits near an out of the way wall of the Autobot base. He pays little mind when Ratchet enters the room; the medic looks occupied enough that Ironflame doubts he’ll be bothered by someone sitting quietly.

    Ratchet’s attention is on the datapad he holds in one hand as he enters, but he is quick to notice Ironflame’s presence, as well as his depressed demeanor.

    “…” He blinks slowly, and steps to set aside the datapad, before turning and approaching the other. His field expands, offering empathy, comfort, as well as checking if Ironflame minds as he sits beside him.

    If he does not sense any objections, Ratchet will proceed to offer to hold him for a bit. He knows Ironflame can be the physically affectionate type, he just isn’t sure if it would be desired from himself, specifically.

[tenaciousflame]

Rules: spell out your url in songs (repost, don’t reblog)

T - The Sore Feet Song - Ally Kerr E - E for Extinction - Thousand Foot Krutch N - No Plan - Hozier A - Alone - Alan Walker C - City of Angels - The Head and the Heart I - Infinitesimal - Mother Mother O - Our House - The Head and the Heart U - Upgrade Me - Ally Kerr S - Satisfy My Soul - Bob Marley & The Wailers F - Friends - Eliza and the Bear L - Lean on Me - Bill Withers A - Acoustic - Billy Raffoul M - Magnet - Clear × Dasoku E - Everglow - Coldplay

tagged by: stolen from @autobotmedic tagging: @jizetto

[tenaciousflame]

being the reason for their smile ?! unmatched feeling

[tenaciousflame]

source

[tenaciousflame]

what horror trope are you?

the lover

love has brought you to this place, and it will not let you leave. fear clutches you, constricts you, and it will have you killed– and yet, it is still no match for the bounty of your heart. you will try as hard as you can to protect the object of your affections. evil is nothing in the face of your warmth. even if you are successful in protecting your lover, that does not guarantee your own survival. your heart has doomed you, but what greater death is there than dying for love?

[tenaciousflame]

“The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun.”