Part 4🥀🩶

Dem nails, gworl...

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Fangs on our flashy boi?! Luv!

i got possessed and drew this so fast idk what happened

A - Z Megatron X Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mild swearing

Megatron/Reader (You) in which you are a human who is far too curious for your own good

E is for Eyebrows

As surreptitiously as possible, you glance at him again from the corner of your eye as he spoke to Optimus, watching raptly as the jagged ridges that adorned his helm rose and fell. You had long since given up trying to decipher how Cybertronian 'eyebrows' were able to move freely without any notable joints. It was mind boggling, but eventually you had made peace with the fact that it was likely some aspect of their anatomy that you – as a human – were completely unaware of.

And while all Cybertronians that you had met thus far had these brow ridges, for some very absurd reason, your brain decided to fixate upon his. It might have been because of the fact that he wasn't a being you had been exposed to much prior to this temporary alliance, but you had a niggling suspicion it was the fact that he was dangerous that made it fascinating to watch him, thrilling even. Like getting in the water with a great white shark…

You scoffed a little at yourself as you turn away for a moment to glance at the papers in your hands. 'Didn't anyone ever tell you curiosity killed the cat?'

You heard Optimus' heavy steps as he retreated further into the bunker, looking up once more. Megatron was still there… and he was staring straight at you. You pale and look away instantly, trying to busy yourself with reading. His ominous steps rumbled the very foundations of the base, and to your horror you realize they are growing nearer. You slam your eyes shut, and when the thunderous footfalls stop, you know he's there… right there, a scarce handful of yards from you. Swallowing, you force yourself to open your eyes, your stomach dropping when you note the entire platform you are standing upon is now draped in a massive shadow. You're rethinking the whole 'shark' theory at this point, knowing fully well they rarely attacked people, and when they did it was almost always because you'd been mistaken for a seal or a turtle. This being… would not hesitate to crush you into a fleshy paste without an ounce of remorse.

You don't know whether to look up or not, which would seem like the greater insult?

"You've been watching me."

The knowing statement takes you by surprise, and without meaning to you lift your head and meet his gaze… only to freeze like a deer in headlights. His mouth is twisted into a sneer, his teeth sharp and vicious looking. Those, however, were definitely very shark like.

"Why?"

Its not a question… its a demand. The seconds tick by and his optics narrow… though one of those damned eyebrows inches upward. You decide to tell him the truth. Licking your lips, you take a steadying breath. "Y-Your eyebr-err, brow ridges. They're just… really emotive. It's… interesting."

He seems to study you, gauging your sincerity, you imagine. Eventually he realizes you are being truthful, his expression irritated… disgusted almost. Like someone who found a hair in their soup… not that Cybertronians had hair… or knew what soup was…

Suddenly he turns and walks away from you, in the direction Optimus had gone. You release the breath you'd been holding, gasping in relief. That was far too close for comfort. When his clipped voice reaches you from across the room - a terse command to cease - you don't need to be told twice. You nod vigorously and look back at your papers, muttering a quiet apology.

Your frazzled brain tries to sort out the tumult of sensations and thoughts running through your body. You feel like you're going to throw up and piss yourself and faint all at once. Thankfully you do none of that, and after some deep breathing manage to regain a measure of composure… though the shaking in your limbs doesn't subside. And yet… despite the fact that his command had held a clear hint of threat, your stupid human brain and its morbid curiosity pokes at you to look over at him yet again. Shaking away the foolhardy urge, you tell yourself firmly, 'No more poking the bear.'

I would be hard pressed not to stare. I'm the person who runs into a wolf and tries to pet it… so this is right up my alley.

The decision to detour was bred from a distinct sense of dread that filled him at the thought of returning to the base. He hated these scouting mission debriefings. Especially when they yielded no interesting results. So when the unfamiliar energon signature had popped up on his radar, he'd almost felt releived. Yet this begged the question...

"Who the frag are you?"

A covert approach was needed here. Setting the Jackhammer down amid a sparse cluster of pines, he continued on pede. Being at ground level meant losing his aerial vantage point; a necessary risk if he wanted to catch this mystery bot unawares. Mindful of his steps, Wheeljack listened intently for any sign of them, hearing only the chatter of native fauna. Whoever they were... they were sneaky.

So sneaky in fact, that he nearly blew his cover. The wrecker all but threw himself behind a craggy outcropping of rock, peering around the opposing side as they continued their approach.

Feline in shape, the bot stood around the same height as his knee - a deployer perhaps? Regardless, that was a Con if he'd ever seen one.

At this point he knew he had two options. He could engage, or he could call it in and await orders. A smirk pulled at his scarred lip components. He never had been the patient type.

Cannon humming to life as he stepped into their path, Wheeljack chuckled in response to the snarled threat he received. "Nice night for a walk, innit?"

@gutter-bot liked for a starter.

Since returning to his host's side, Ravage rarely left the Nemesis. Soundwave was protective- rightfully so-, and Ravage's frame just wasn't what it used to be. After his near death experience that lead to the separation from his host on Cybertron, he never quite regained his full strength.

However, that didn't mean he was useless. On the contrary, in fact. Ravage could still perform his strong suit exceptionally well; that being his work as a spy. It helped that the Autobots were unaware of his existence.

He had been slinking back from a successful intel gathering mission when things went wrong. Wheeljack, as he was last informed by Laserbeak, was not supposed to be in the area. Apparently, things had changed. He froze at the glowing blaster aimed at his helm, a low growl ripping itself from his throat. "Back off," he snarled, red optics narrowing beneath the Soundwave-esc visor that covered most of his helm.

We love our big cockeyed meth-head.

look. look. I love tfp megatron because he is unhinged and stupid and does space meth. he looks like a persian cat. his eyes are in different zip codes. i think he probably howls about optimus like a sad dog. he's awful and I want to watch him get worse

Little darlings

🐇

Cliff!! Mah boy!.

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