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catharsis_logsG1
Red Alert/Prowl - Your logic will be the death of me
Bluestreak/Prowl - Home
Beast Wars
Megatron/Cheetor - here kitty, kitty
_________________________________________
Fandom: Transformers Beast Wars (semi-AU)
Pairing: Megatron/Cheetor
Prompt: Here kitty, kitty
Warnings: Megatron is kind of fucked up, and Cheetor (in this) isn't much better. Imagine Cheetor as an autobot/maximal version of Starscream and you'll get an idea of Cheetor's mind-state in this. Written mostly from Megatron's POV. Oh, and vegetarians beware.
Megatron sits on his throne of bones and animal carcasses. He either doesn't register the smell or the T-Rex side of him feels right at home in the stench. Either way, Cheetor doesn't know what to think about that foul rank. It stirs things inside him, his predator instincts, things that no Maximal should have. He's in his cheetah form and he snarls at Megatron, hackles raising in defiance, of the smell, of Megatron himself and of his own hidden Predacon side. A deep throaty chuckle emanates from Megatron at the sign of defiance. He makes no move forward or backwards, in fact, he's reptilian-still. Something that makes Cheetor's animal brain scream 'Danger! Danger!' Finally, the hair-raising laughter ceases and Megatron speaks for the first time since Cheetor had been dragged in before him.
"Oh young Maximal, I am amused by your pathetic attempts at defiance. Still," Megatron cocks his head to the side "It is more than my Predacons have done in a long time, besides Dinobot" A sneer crosses Megatron's face as he mentions his former second-in-command and Cheetor shudders at the sight of ape teeth in a predator's mouth. Megatron flexes his hand-head, razor teeth sliding against each other and Cheetor tries to keep still as another shudder ripples through his fur.
"And even though you show defiance on the outside the metal within you reeks of fear." Megatron laughs again but pauses when Cheetor offers a rebuke;
"Oh yeah?" Cheetor forces a laugh. "I'm surprised you can smell anything over that garbage heap you're sitting on!" His laughter dies in his throat as Megatron chuckles again. What is with the Predacon leader and creepy laughter?
"Oh my dear Cheetor, I have an excellent nose for fear-scent. Besides, the stench of death and fear soothes me."
"Well it just makes me hungry." Cheetor doesn't even process the words before they're out of his mouth and he stands stock-still as what he just said passes through both of his brains.
The laughter that comes from Megatron isn't calculated this time, but a laugh of surprise and interest. "That too." The Predacon leader concedes nodding his head, red optics never leaving Cheetor once. The T-Rex grabs a carcass with his hand-head, jaws crunching around the body, crushing bone, and he throws it from his throne to land right at Cheetor's paws. Cheetor wrinkles up his nose in preparation for the smell, but all he can taste on the back of his throat is the clear scent of blood, this body must be fresh, or at least fresher than the rest. His animal stomach growls and Cheetor takes a step back from the corpse, but Megatron lets out a long reptilian hiss and "Eat it, young Cheetor. It will make you stronger. And you will need to be strong to face what I have ahead for you."
Cheetor hasn't eaten meat in days, just the berries Rinox has been collecting for the rest of the group. He thinks Tigatron goes off to hunt for himself, but the tiger never brings back anything for Cheetor. Cheetor is too lazy to hunt for himself, but he does so when the craving for meat becomes too much. He considers meat, and eating meat an addiction, but he eats meat anyway, and it does make him stronger, and he hasn't eaten in the day Megatron's goons have had him locked away in a cage. The smell wafts up his nose, making his mouth water, the rich meaty smell of raw dead animal. Another reason Cheetor doesn't hunt much is because the hunt is far too satisfying, the screams and shrieks of his prey only feeding into his hunger and later he would stare at the other members of his group too intently and predatorily for his comfort.
Cheetor wonders suddenly if Dinobot feels this way all the time, if Megatron, even sated with dead animals stares at him and sees food. Cheetor's heart goes cold at the thought and suddenly he's on the meat that Megatron has thrown to him, attacking it like it's still alive and he can hear its screams. He has to prove to Megatron that he's not food, and this is the test that will make or break that. lukewarm blood fills his mouth and he tears off a piece and swallows reflexively, feeling the blood slide down his throat a little before the meat does. Megatron leans back on his throne and suddenly Cheetor is focused on the Dinosaur Predacon with eerie intent. He knows that his pupils have consumed his eyes, and he looks at the Predacon leader and sees food. A different kind of food yes, but food.
"Eat the rest." There's an edge of warning in the command, a slow deep rumble deep in the Predacon's chest. So Cheetor eats the rest, staring at Megatron the entire time, and wondering what the reptile would taste like.
"My, my, my." Megatron rumbles, "Have I unleashed the predator within the helpless cat?"
"I suppose so." Cheetor muses, letting his jaw sag, blood trickling from his mouth, showing his fangs. Something inside him rebells a little, sickened at what's going on, but his darker side, the side that hasn't been fed for so long shoves it aside. His animal side rejoices at the feeding, relishes the feeling of being well-fed and with the opportunity for even more meat. Cheetor realizes suddenly that his relish in the hunt isn't all his animal side, it's his warrior spirit, the side of him that is gleeful and deadly playful in battle. The side of him that doesn't particularly care if everything on this planet dies. The side of him that doesn't even care if his friends die, though he fakes it so well he even fools himself sometimes. The meat sits suddenly heavy in his stomach as the ideals of his chosen side seem become delicate and wispy in the face of this new decision.
He always wondered why Dinobot stayed with the Maximals. He knew why the Predacon had initially joined their side, lust for power, but he didn't understand the whole 'honor' thing. If Cheetor didn't know better he would have wondered if his spark and Dinobot's had somehow merged and then split, leaving each personality fractured towards the opposite of what it used to be. Suddenly the meat in front of him smelled wrong. He tried to spit out the blood still in his mouth, but he failed. He tried to throw up, but when he tried it was as if his stomach still had no contents. That couldn't be true right? He'd just eaten.
"What?" Cheetor mumbled, the world tilting on its axis, "did you do to me?"
Megatron sounded infinitely pleased when he responded. "Oh nothing much, just a tiny little personality re-write virus. When it's done with its work on you, you will be my little slave, and the perfect Predacon. One that will be incapable of betraying me, don't worry, I've written that part in the code personally."
When Cheetor just stared woozily at Megatron, feeling the evil start to seep into his spark and personality matrix, Megatron continued.
"I've been working on you since we got here to this miserable piece of trash planet! I found out where you usually hunted, oh my poor little guilt-ridden cat. Then I infected all of the wildlife in the area with my little virus, just a touch! Then I watched as your guilt over killing the poor native life slowly slipped away. You grew to enjoy the hunt! As you should." Megatron's smile grew until it almost stretched completely across his face, reptilian but with those disturbingly flat teeth.
Cheetor knew that something was wrong, that he should be afraid, very afraid. But something was interfering, nudging at his processor with little fingers that begged to be let in and, almost without realizing it, he let it. Immediately static buzzed across his vision, and lines of intrusive code flashed in his minds-eye. He transformed to robot mode, and collapsed, right into Megatron's waiting arms. He tried to scream but only a whining buzz came from his vocal unit.
"There there, my kitty cat." Megatron soothed, fingers sliding where they didn't belong, in between joints and sliding across fur. Tingles began in Cheetor's extremities, then slowly echo out until his entire body is nothing but tingles, he thinks that he's about to burst into a million pieces of light but before that can happen darkness creeps in at the edges of his vision. All he can see is Megatron's face and when the Predacon presses his lips against Cheetor's all the Maximal can do is stare, until the darkness sweeps over his eyes in the form of lines of code and then merciful numbness and a small piece of the Cheetor-that-used-to-be screams and shrieks and bleeds, just like prey. Then he's gone, and all that's left is blood, the thought of blood, and the hunt.
Red Alert/Prowl - Your logic will be the death of me
Bluestreak/Prowl - Home
Beast Wars
Megatron/Cheetor - here kitty, kitty
_________________________________________
Fandom: Transformers Beast Wars (semi-AU)
Pairing: Megatron/Cheetor
Prompt: Here kitty, kitty
Warnings: Megatron is kind of fucked up, and Cheetor (in this) isn't much better. Imagine Cheetor as an autobot/maximal version of Starscream and you'll get an idea of Cheetor's mind-state in this. Written mostly from Megatron's POV. Oh, and vegetarians beware.
Megatron sits on his throne of bones and animal carcasses. He either doesn't register the smell or the T-Rex side of him feels right at home in the stench. Either way, Cheetor doesn't know what to think about that foul rank. It stirs things inside him, his predator instincts, things that no Maximal should have. He's in his cheetah form and he snarls at Megatron, hackles raising in defiance, of the smell, of Megatron himself and of his own hidden Predacon side. A deep throaty chuckle emanates from Megatron at the sign of defiance. He makes no move forward or backwards, in fact, he's reptilian-still. Something that makes Cheetor's animal brain scream 'Danger! Danger!' Finally, the hair-raising laughter ceases and Megatron speaks for the first time since Cheetor had been dragged in before him.
"Oh young Maximal, I am amused by your pathetic attempts at defiance. Still," Megatron cocks his head to the side "It is more than my Predacons have done in a long time, besides Dinobot" A sneer crosses Megatron's face as he mentions his former second-in-command and Cheetor shudders at the sight of ape teeth in a predator's mouth. Megatron flexes his hand-head, razor teeth sliding against each other and Cheetor tries to keep still as another shudder ripples through his fur.
"And even though you show defiance on the outside the metal within you reeks of fear." Megatron laughs again but pauses when Cheetor offers a rebuke;
"Oh yeah?" Cheetor forces a laugh. "I'm surprised you can smell anything over that garbage heap you're sitting on!" His laughter dies in his throat as Megatron chuckles again. What is with the Predacon leader and creepy laughter?
"Oh my dear Cheetor, I have an excellent nose for fear-scent. Besides, the stench of death and fear soothes me."
"Well it just makes me hungry." Cheetor doesn't even process the words before they're out of his mouth and he stands stock-still as what he just said passes through both of his brains.
The laughter that comes from Megatron isn't calculated this time, but a laugh of surprise and interest. "That too." The Predacon leader concedes nodding his head, red optics never leaving Cheetor once. The T-Rex grabs a carcass with his hand-head, jaws crunching around the body, crushing bone, and he throws it from his throne to land right at Cheetor's paws. Cheetor wrinkles up his nose in preparation for the smell, but all he can taste on the back of his throat is the clear scent of blood, this body must be fresh, or at least fresher than the rest. His animal stomach growls and Cheetor takes a step back from the corpse, but Megatron lets out a long reptilian hiss and "Eat it, young Cheetor. It will make you stronger. And you will need to be strong to face what I have ahead for you."
Cheetor hasn't eaten meat in days, just the berries Rinox has been collecting for the rest of the group. He thinks Tigatron goes off to hunt for himself, but the tiger never brings back anything for Cheetor. Cheetor is too lazy to hunt for himself, but he does so when the craving for meat becomes too much. He considers meat, and eating meat an addiction, but he eats meat anyway, and it does make him stronger, and he hasn't eaten in the day Megatron's goons have had him locked away in a cage. The smell wafts up his nose, making his mouth water, the rich meaty smell of raw dead animal. Another reason Cheetor doesn't hunt much is because the hunt is far too satisfying, the screams and shrieks of his prey only feeding into his hunger and later he would stare at the other members of his group too intently and predatorily for his comfort.
Cheetor wonders suddenly if Dinobot feels this way all the time, if Megatron, even sated with dead animals stares at him and sees food. Cheetor's heart goes cold at the thought and suddenly he's on the meat that Megatron has thrown to him, attacking it like it's still alive and he can hear its screams. He has to prove to Megatron that he's not food, and this is the test that will make or break that. lukewarm blood fills his mouth and he tears off a piece and swallows reflexively, feeling the blood slide down his throat a little before the meat does. Megatron leans back on his throne and suddenly Cheetor is focused on the Dinosaur Predacon with eerie intent. He knows that his pupils have consumed his eyes, and he looks at the Predacon leader and sees food. A different kind of food yes, but food.
"Eat the rest." There's an edge of warning in the command, a slow deep rumble deep in the Predacon's chest. So Cheetor eats the rest, staring at Megatron the entire time, and wondering what the reptile would taste like.
"My, my, my." Megatron rumbles, "Have I unleashed the predator within the helpless cat?"
"I suppose so." Cheetor muses, letting his jaw sag, blood trickling from his mouth, showing his fangs. Something inside him rebells a little, sickened at what's going on, but his darker side, the side that hasn't been fed for so long shoves it aside. His animal side rejoices at the feeding, relishes the feeling of being well-fed and with the opportunity for even more meat. Cheetor realizes suddenly that his relish in the hunt isn't all his animal side, it's his warrior spirit, the side of him that is gleeful and deadly playful in battle. The side of him that doesn't particularly care if everything on this planet dies. The side of him that doesn't even care if his friends die, though he fakes it so well he even fools himself sometimes. The meat sits suddenly heavy in his stomach as the ideals of his chosen side seem become delicate and wispy in the face of this new decision.
He always wondered why Dinobot stayed with the Maximals. He knew why the Predacon had initially joined their side, lust for power, but he didn't understand the whole 'honor' thing. If Cheetor didn't know better he would have wondered if his spark and Dinobot's had somehow merged and then split, leaving each personality fractured towards the opposite of what it used to be. Suddenly the meat in front of him smelled wrong. He tried to spit out the blood still in his mouth, but he failed. He tried to throw up, but when he tried it was as if his stomach still had no contents. That couldn't be true right? He'd just eaten.
"What?" Cheetor mumbled, the world tilting on its axis, "did you do to me?"
Megatron sounded infinitely pleased when he responded. "Oh nothing much, just a tiny little personality re-write virus. When it's done with its work on you, you will be my little slave, and the perfect Predacon. One that will be incapable of betraying me, don't worry, I've written that part in the code personally."
When Cheetor just stared woozily at Megatron, feeling the evil start to seep into his spark and personality matrix, Megatron continued.
"I've been working on you since we got here to this miserable piece of trash planet! I found out where you usually hunted, oh my poor little guilt-ridden cat. Then I infected all of the wildlife in the area with my little virus, just a touch! Then I watched as your guilt over killing the poor native life slowly slipped away. You grew to enjoy the hunt! As you should." Megatron's smile grew until it almost stretched completely across his face, reptilian but with those disturbingly flat teeth.
Cheetor knew that something was wrong, that he should be afraid, very afraid. But something was interfering, nudging at his processor with little fingers that begged to be let in and, almost without realizing it, he let it. Immediately static buzzed across his vision, and lines of intrusive code flashed in his minds-eye. He transformed to robot mode, and collapsed, right into Megatron's waiting arms. He tried to scream but only a whining buzz came from his vocal unit.
"There there, my kitty cat." Megatron soothed, fingers sliding where they didn't belong, in between joints and sliding across fur. Tingles began in Cheetor's extremities, then slowly echo out until his entire body is nothing but tingles, he thinks that he's about to burst into a million pieces of light but before that can happen darkness creeps in at the edges of his vision. All he can see is Megatron's face and when the Predacon presses his lips against Cheetor's all the Maximal can do is stare, until the darkness sweeps over his eyes in the form of lines of code and then merciful numbness and a small piece of the Cheetor-that-used-to-be screams and shrieks and bleeds, just like prey. Then he's gone, and all that's left is blood, the thought of blood, and the hunt.
