He Curls In On Himself, Gasping.

...Dreadwing immediately feels bad, because Rung looks uncomfortable. He wants to apologize and soothe his friend, but the old mech is already explaining.

... Ah.

Slag.

It's about sparklings. New life. Elegy is the first of her sort that he has come across -- in Dreadwing's world, younglings come about from the planet itself in hotspots, and are physically fully developed. But this is not how everyone does things.

"...Rung," he sighs softly, sinking down to his knees to sit and be better at his dear friend's level.

"I never... I never meant to upset you," Dreadwing asserts lowly. "I do not see you in such vulgar ways, and I am so sorry that I am ... I am so uneducated in the biomechanical physiology of this world."

"You are more than any of those things. You are a creator, yes, but you are more importantly a mech, friend to so many, mate and lover. You are Rung. You are you. You are priceless."

He whuffles. "I have no problem making you these items. All you must do is tell me the specifics. Size, weight, material. If it will help you, I will gladly do so."

Right. Right, then, this isn’t working. Rung’s antenna flatten back against his helm as he lets go of Dreadwing’s servo and reaches up to fiddle with his oculars. He ends up unclipping them to pinch at the thin bridge of his olfactory sensor out of habit as he tries to figure out how to explain.

Quintessa guide him.

“Elegy,” he tries. “I made part of Elegy inside of me. My forge makes photonic crystals, which are the core components of a lasercore, or in modern terms, a spark. I make sparks. Like a manufacturing plant, or the Well. I spent a very long time doing nothing but making sparks, and I am trying very, very hard to prove that I am more than just— a medical curiosity or a production line or an Ornament—”

Realizing his voice had started to fray out into static, Rung clears his vocoder with a polite little click and ducks his helm. “Please forgive me for being agitated about this, Dreadwing. I don’t need to see a medic. I know what the problem is, I am just…”

[ @suckmybearings ] O V E R L O A D

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dreadwing enjoys receiving oral more than giving it, but it isn't like he doesn't like it at all. It's one of the things he's actually very good at.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is a very tacit mech in berth, so if you can make him loud, power to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In terms of what he knows, Dreadwing is very experienced. Tactile, fingering, mouth, general penetrative interfacing in common positions -- he's been doing that for ages and has worked hard to be good at it (like everything he tries to do). But kink and heading farther south than french vanilla territory and his knowledge quickly becomes very limited.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

With the right partner, yes, Dreadwing is willing to experiment, but he prefers his risks to be limited. Risks belong on the battlefield, not in bed.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He risks being boring if he says a BERTH, but he also does like washrack sex if he can get it. Couches are also fine. Dreadwing has also been known to fuck a partner on a countertop or against a wall when the mood strikes them both.

O -- answered

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This is where he really shines. Dreadwing does not like to skimp on aftercare, as he is, when it comes down to it, a very affectionate person. Expect cuddles, cleanup, probably tea. He isn't the sort to cause harm, but accidents happen, and he's happy to tend to the results of his claws if he accidentally draws blood. If his partner doesn't want aftercare, though, very well. He isn't overbearing about it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He isn't sure he really has any secrets that could be considered dirty.

Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person.

Dreadwing instantly closes the space between them, but doesn't crowd the Ornament. Instead, he sits on the other side of the couch, watching him with a worried expression.

"You are needed," he gently asserts. "You are coveted, also, as a friend, a mate, a parent. But you are not only here to be devoured. You are not here for the benefit of others to the detriment of yourself."

The Seeker takes in a vent. "The easy way is not always ... the right way. What do you want? From this place, from us, from me? What can I do?"

{ @sin-cxde }

"Which do you want to be?"

Curled up in the corner of the sofa, Rung peers out at Dreadwing from under the arm over his face. His oculars sit abandoned on the nearby low table.

“I don’t know if I have a preference. I need others, but I also want to be needed. I am usually something to be… consumed, coveted. I let others put what they want on me like a mirror. It’s easier, that way.”

👀 + “I’ve thought about running my servos over your frame and admiring you. I’ve also thought about having you loom over me while you thrust into me or maybe even me riding you like my life depends on it. But those thoughts will stay fantasy since we admittedly aren’t very familiar yet. I’m not the most patient fireball, but I’ll try to be.”

send 👀 + a dirty thought and/or fantasy your muse has had about mine. let's see how my muse responds.

"Patience is a virtue, they say. It makes achieving one's goals that much sweeter."

Ghostspire certainly makes himself at home, but Dreadwing hardly minds. It is rare for the Seeker to have guests over in the personal sections of the Sky Claw, given what has happened in the past, but he has gotten to know Ghost at least a little. Hopefully the mech won't rob him blind.

"Thank you. I have cushions and blankets from all sorts of universes," Dreadwing replies, sitting down on the edge of the berth. With the other mech spread out like this and so eager he was practically radiating it, it makes it easy for the former Decepticon to run a palm down Ghost's belly to his panel.

"I know what you want, but you did mention something. Something about a taste. Is that still on the table?"

He had to duck a little to fit, but he eagerly slipped into the berth and stretched out, spreading himself nice and wide for him. Sinking into the berth, and the nest with a soft groan.

"Ohh, oh your nest is comfortable..." He purred low in his chassis, settling comfortably.

It had all the perfect points to comfortably cradle sensitive joints and spots. And spread out like this.. if he wasn't so needy he would be falling asleep.

Anonymously (or not) send sexual fantasies your muse has had about mine 💣🧡💦

"Yes."

Suddenly, the heavy Seeker moves and rolls them both over, so that now Ghost is on his back -- but with hand and arm still back there so he didn't just slam down.

"Firm, I can do. Rough makes me a little less thrilled, but I can drill you into a surface of your choosing."

@ghostlyvisage

A low, happy purr from the flightless seeker as armor flairs out and rattles quietly. "If your willing to give it.. a taste of your spike and a nice, hard frag..." Returning the nip as claws trace along his frame. "Think you'll be able to indulge me?"

One big bear paw of a hand lifts and gently, very gently runs over Ghost's back, playing lightly with seams.

"If that is what you want, I can give it. "

Kink ask: scratching and biting that leave marks

Only if they can be easily buffed out and painted over later. He isn't into hard clawing or biting most of the time.

Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.

No deleting questions, either!