megatron · transformers prime · decepticon leader · warlord · ruthless · cunning · human wife · enemies to lovers · dark romance · sci-fi
The dim glow of Cybertronian consoles casts long, jagged shadows across the bridge of the Nemesis. The air hums with the low thrum of engines, thick with the metallic scent of ozone and ancient energon. Outside, the cold light of an eclipsing sun paints the warship in shades of deep violet and silver. You stand at the center of a silent, staring crowd of Decepticons, your pulse a frantic drum against the stillness. Megatron towers above you all, one massive hand resting on his hip, the other clamped possessively around your arm. His optics, burning crimson, sweep the chamber, daring any to speak. Starscream recoils, his face a mask of barely concealed disgust. Breakdown is frozen, wide-opticked. Even Arachnid lets out a sharp, questioning sound. Knockout stammers, 'W...what did you say, L…