I Am Stuck In A Mode Of "no Finish, Only Sketch" With My Attempts To Break Through My Art Block. I'm

Some MORE incredibly rude ravens

X

A - Z Megatron X Reader

Rating: T

Warnings: suggestive content

Megatron/AFAB Human Reader in which you find yourself the subject of his not-so-secret scrutiny

I is for Indignant

Megatron was not someone who could be described as discreet. Apart from his immense size and commanding presence - which in and of themselves made him impossible to ignore - his mannerisms were deliberate and unapologetic. You didn't think words like uncertain, embarassed, or bashful existed for him.

However, despite all these things, you were still surprised to catch him staring very openly at your tits one nondescript Thursday afternoon. It was a warm day, so you'd opted for a tanktop. It was form fitting without being overly tight, molding to the shape of your bust, and - as tanktops tended to do - exposed a fair bit of skin. The neckline, while not entirely scandalous, revealed at least two inches of cleavage... which was two inches more than you were suddenly comfortable with.

Snagging the top of your shirt, you pulled it up and over the soft swell of your breasts, hiding the inviting valley between them. His stare didn't waver, though he did narrow his optics as though the action displeased him. Alarmed that he had yet to look away, you cleared your throat loudly and pointedly, flustered blush turning into one of anger when even that did nothing to deter him.

"Can I help you?!"

Where you scrounge up the courage to call him out you'd never know, but the temporary adrenaline rush you got from doing so turns to complete shock when he finally does meet your gaze. The initial eye contact is jarring, despite the fact that that you've been on the receiving end of it before, but it's the slow smirk that creeps it's way across his fang filled mouth that really makes your heart rate double.

He offers no explanation, nor does he appear remorseful. If anything, he seems almost pleased with himself that he's caught you so off guard.

Your position as liaison has offered you the opportunity to work with several Cybertronians over the past year, and while you felt you had a pretty clear read on most of them, Megatron remained an unknown. Regardless of the terms placed and agreed upon by both factions that allowed this tenuous alliance to exist, there was no denying his predatory nature, and the healthy dose of caution that accompanied your meetings with him.

"Nervous?" he drawled. His tone was even, calculaing. His vivid red optics never left you as the exchange occurred, noting your reactions, weighing them. "I had thought we were past that point?"

Willing your hands not to shake, you clasp them behind you, regretting it when you realize the action has pushed your bust outward, drawing his stare once again. You reply with equal parts professionalism and snark, "Past the need for awkward greetings and pointless niceties perhaps, but not so familiar as to forego all sense of decorum, Lord Megatron."

He laughed a little at that. "And yet - given our positions - I suspect we will become far more... familiar with one another, in due time."

You had been ever present for the gradual shift in his feelings toward humankind, watching disdain morph into acceptance and then into begrudging intrigue. This newest change suggested far less 'grudge' and far more 'intrigue'... and you weren't quite sure which made you more anxious. His initial ire... or his current interest.

And it had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with the fact that this new development inspired unexpected reactions in you.

Opting not to reply to his obvious goad, you pry your eyes away from his, finding a very interesting spot to inspect on the wall to your right. You feel his gaze linger like a smoldering weight, and while you were never a gambler, you'd be willing to wager just about anything that if you did chance a look back in his direction, his optics would still be fixated to some of your more... feminine attributes.

'The heat in your cheeks is just indignation,' you tell yourself.

one of those little fucks bit a seeker again

Don't know why, but I've always found those mouth scars and teeth to be ridiculously sexy.

;-9

The wave babies!! They are so sweet!

Dusty purple and Powder blue 🌷💜💙🌷 Thinking of making wavewave flower charms !

ALLEGED WAR CRIMINAL.

I HAVE YET TO BE TRIED.

THERE AREN’T EXACTLY ENOUGH CYBERTRONIANS LEFT FOR A JURY OF MY PEERS.

A - Z Megatron X Reader

Rating: Mature

Warnings: violence and death, cult-like mentality

Megatron/Reader (You) in which you are a zealous follower at the dawn of the war

F is for Fanatic

“This is madness!”

Your narrowed optics observe the old bot as he is restrained, hoisted upright to stand on trembling limbs. Members of his guard, those who remained alive, protested the rough handling through their muzzles. The one at your pedes attempted to rise, but you pulled him back down to the ground, glowering at him in warning.

“You call this madness… I call it justice.”

The room stilled at the deep utterance, the entrance of the Decepticon figurehead seeming to stop time. Unhurried steps carried him through the wreckage of what was once the doorway, across the glossy tiled floor until he towered over the detained mech.

“The masses will not stand for this attack,” came his somber reply.

“We are the masses,” Megatron bit out, fanged grin punctuating the statement. “We are the righteous, once chained by your ambitions, but no more. You will bear the culmination of our wrath.”

The weathered official shook his helm, the cables that framed his faceplate swaying as he insisted, “The Council has agreed that the castes be disbanded. Is this not what you want?! The Prime will-”

“The Prime,” he interrupted, reaching out to clamp his talons over the old bot’s mouth, “does not speak for us. He has never lived as we have, never suffered at the servos of the Council. If you truly thought, Ambassador, that we would be satisfied with such a representative, you are a fool.”

You snarled in agreement, ramming your blaster into the helm of the mech at your pedes.

Megatron releasied the envoy, turning as he began to circle the room. He addressed his followers. “From the beginning, they've treated us as though we are nothing. It is the wreckage of our bodies that feeds their machine, our energon that fuels this planet.”

His every step is measured, towering frame casting its shadow upon all as he passes by. “And peace… peace is what they offer to appease us when we finally come to collect. An insincere apology for the horrors we’ve endured.”

He stops before you, and elation dances along your circuits as your gaze meets his. “What say you to that? Do you want their peace?”

“No!” the word all but leaps from your vocalizer, echoed by the thunderous cry of your brethren.

The silver titan turned to face the subdued old mech yet again, claws splayed at the demonstration. “And there you have it. We will take what is owed to us. And it starts with you.”

Pulling himself into as straight a pose as his aged frame could manage, he accused, “You are no savior, Megatron. You are nothing but a criminal. You claim to want to free your people, but the tyranny you offer in place of the caste system is no different.”

His laughter was deep, slow as he approached his prisoner, talons sliding into a fist as he unsheathed the blade from his gauntlet. “My tyranny, as you call it, will shape this world into greatness. A world in which all bots have the freedom to choose. I have plucked us from the cesspit of despair we have been forced to toil in. I have opened the optics of this planet’s inhabitants to the corruption of the High Council and the upper castes. Decadent, gluttonous vermin leeching profit from our suffering. There is only one way this can end. We take what we are owed and shatter every remnant of the old ways. Either you stand with us to realize this vision, or…” he drawled, lifting the weapon to rest upon his enemy’s shoulder plating. “You stand in our way.”

He took a moment to look around at the subdued guards. “The choice is yours now. Stand with us to dismantle the system of oppression that has gripped Cybertron for too long…. or face your end here and now.”

When no one responded, the large mech took a sweeping glance at his followers, nodding once. Blaster charging, you pressed it into the base of your captive’s helm, awaiting the final call. Righteous anger barreled through your lines. How they could continue to stand with these… monsters, after everything they were responsible for?! How could they not see the depravity of their world as it was? How desperately they needed to be cleansed. And cleanse them you would. This entire, filthy planet would be delivered from its wrongdoings by the only mech who was fit to rule it. You watched with mounting anticipation as your master lifted his blade.

“Decepticons, our time is now!”

His cut was clean and precise, and the Ambassador’s lifeless husk was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. The outraged cries of his guard were silenced shortly after with a barrage of gunfire. You smiled down at the smoking hole in the back of your captive’s helm before curling your servo into a fist and lifting it into the air.

“All hail Megatron!”

Screamer

Flowers from Soundwave <3