Sound AdviceSound Advice10 months ago in Drama
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The door clicked behind him as the lock ingaged and he threw himself onto the bed, face plate down, trying to choke down the sobs that wanted free.
Why, oh why…
Why could his family not just act like a family for once? All he asked from them was a little civility! A little acceptance of his ability to choose someone fitting, him and the family name. He wasn’t a three vorn old sparkling anymore!
And his Intended certainly did not deserve the treatment they were giving him. His poor lover… not enough seeker coding to understand the subtler insults and the wing speak. A relief and an acute embarrassment all at once. He could not get himself to tell his gentle, loving Intended how awful his family were being…
“Why not, youngling?” a cool, feathery touch stroked down his back struts, between his wings, and he lost control of the sobs.
Why not? So many, many reasons… Gentle giant Skyfire was such an innocent, not at all suited for the intrig
Once...Once...10 months ago in Drama
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He had been his once…
Or so he had thought. That they had something, something that crossed all sense, all differences. Something that culture, education, dreams could not shatter. Something that would last forever and ever.
That they, when their forever was at its end would continue on in the Well of Allsparks.
But he had been so very wrong.
He had turned from him, become someone else. Citing lack of time, things to do… kisses had been there, but there had been little feeling behind them. Anything else was something to only dream of.
Words like ‘want you’, ‘love you’, ‘need you’ had become rare… and then they stopped coming altogether.
The pain had been enough to drive him crazy.
First he had blamed the council for taking him, forcing the Matrix of Leadership on him.
Reprogramming him against his will…
Anything that would not mean that he had been abandoned, discarded as nothing but Kaon trash.
In the end though he could
Not my chassisNot my chassis10 months ago in Horror
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He was repaired, it had repaired him.
Stopped the leaks, mended the plating, the wires, nodes, circuitry and tubes. He looked like himself again, pristine and animated.
But he was not the one doing the animating. He was not moving, not talking, not touching.
He was a terrified passenger in his own processor, looking out though his, but not his, own optics.
And what was worse was that he could feel it was not over yet. His plating might looks pristine and untouched as his chassis moved among the other war survivors, but underneath it he boiled, burned and changed.
It had changed him, was changing him and his prison was so secure, his own processor.
He remembered how it had begun. He had been caught up in one of those small battles that occurred between Autobots and Decepticons, doing the best he could to hide. And failed at it!
Pain and fire, energon seeping from torn and shredded armor. Glowing pink mixing with a strange black liquid seeping from an equally torn cylinder. He remembered