My Wife!!

My wife!!

(had to repost cuz it went 'poof')

-> Fun fact, spiders in the genus gasteracantha exhibit biofluorescence, so under any kind of UV lighting her colour scheme would look wildly different!

->Tumblr ate my post... so here it is again!

First, in what is sure to be an extensive series of character redesigns for Blackarachnia.

• Gasteracantha aka spiny orb weaver (more specifically the demon horned orb weaver)

I cannot stress how much I LUV spiders, so if anyone enjoys them as much as I - or even if you just like the concept art - feel free to leave me suggestions of other spider species in the comments. I have a few in mind but wpuld love to hear other thoughts.

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.

Tags

transformers tfp megatron transformers fanfiction megatron x reader megatron fanfiction

111 notes View Post

gutter-bot

1 month ago

Part 3🩶🥀

Cables taught, she bowed herself into a tempting pose, helm tipped back, optics shut, mouth agape, creating the illusion of pleasure, a beautiful picture painted for her onlookers. Her frame spun in lazy, controlled circles, allowing everyone in the room a chance to see her. She twisted, artfully bending, placing limbs in ways that were not possible for most Cybertronian frames. But she was unlike them. Cold forged, altered, built specifically by the Masters to perform feats of enticement and pleasure not attainable anywhere else. It was a cruel existence, to be placed upon a pedestal as some beautiful thing, to have no say in who used you or how you were used. To know your life was always in the servos of those willing to pay the most. And not all of them were kind. Most were entitled, corrupt, careless, and violent… it was why appearances were so very important. This game was one of wits, persuasion, and desirability, and she played the game well.

Retracting the lines, she rose higher, weaving her legs through the cables and balancing herself inverted as she parted them, an impressive and lurid display that prompted several cheers. Her dance was a deadly one, the danger creating more intrigue than beauty alone ever could. Every move was calculated not only to entice her audience, but to ensure her safety. One wrong turn, even a nano-klik too late, could result in her frame ending up a battered wreckage upon the stage. And – if the damage was extensive enough – that would be the end of her. She was an object, after all, and should they decide she was not worth the investment to repair, she would be discarded, like so many before her, and another would take her place just as easily. She catches the optics of a mech she is familiar with, one who – while old and entitled and dreadfully pompous – was gentle. Or perhaps it was that he didn’t physically have it in him to be violent anymore. He looked as though a stiff wind might knock him off his pedes. Regardless of the reason, if she could entice him to bid, at least she could walk away from this encounter unscathed. The scarlet femme made certain to keep his gaze for a time before glancing past him, knowing the attention would please him. Luck was on her side this night. Many in attendance were regulars, with only a few new faces. While she could not yet be certain if any of them possessed the wealth to outbid him, the odds were favorable. Her best bet was to play the part she knew he liked, and hope his was the winning offer. Lowering herself to the stage, she unwound her cables from the beams above, drawing them back with a snap of her wrists. She spun slowly, kneeling as she did so until she came to rest on the cool tile, helm against the floor while the rest of her arched invitingly. Suggestively. Again, a round of approving cheers. Without making it appear she was favoring him, she moved to and fro, casting little looks at him whenever an opportunity arose. He hadn’t looked away, his expression intent, and she felt triumph unfurl in her spark. This appointment would belong to him, and she would live to see another sunrise. The dark, bitter part of her that had festered over so many millennia in such a cold and inhospitable environment delighted at knowing how many bots would walk away from this place with empty servos. Some would find company elsewhere, but many would leave to nurse their battered pride. It gave her a petty kind of joy to know they all wanted her, and only one would succeed in having her. The assortment offered at The Spire was carefully curated to meet every need imaginable, and of the variety of treasures to choose from, she was among the most sought after. Not because of her beauty, no – they were all lovely. Nor was it her aerial prowess or her dancing. She had learned long ago that the most valuable skill for any courtesan to have was the ability to read their patrons. And so she watched, learned, honing her craft. Clients, Masters, Keepers, even her peers, all of them became as easy to decipher as glyphs on a datapad. She recognized patterns in speech, body language, and actions, hearing the words between the words and recognize everything left unsaid. It was a skill she had mastered long ago, and she used it with the same painstaking precision as she used her grappling lines. When your life depended on pleasing those around you, knowing how to speak and how to act in times of intimacy (and otherwise) was the most valuable tool one could possess. It had made her into an optimal companion and had served her well for many orbital cycles, allowing her to keep herself – and those she cared about – alive. And she would continue to ply her skills for as long as she needed to, filing away whatever information she thought might be of use. Somehow, she would find a way to use those same skills to take her and her lover out of this place and make a better life for them. Until that time came, she waited, watched, and played the perfect part.

My Wife!!

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A - Z Megatron X Reader