#Cometeater | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quibble-auk · 1 hour ago

Text

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Im giving up and splitting this in two parts and then going to bed. I have to watch kids tomorrow. I don’t know what I’m thinking. I do need sleep.

Anyway, this is part one and this is also not proofread so let’s gooooooooo

Dropmix and Cometeater’s confrontation.

Warnings!!! There’s a bit of blood

—

“Jeopardy, you moved the red mech and Cometeater to a separate room?” Dropmix asked casually, going over the list of remaining patients. There weren’t many left. There had been even more casualties than usual—Dropmix looked around the medibay, they would definitely need to do some cleaning and restocking. He swiftly added it to his list of things to do. It was painfully long. The young medical mech in question was in the middle of administering some painkillers,

“Yeah, they should be in one of the private rooms now,” He looked up from his work at Dropmix, “You sure we shouldn’t use the space for someone else?”

Dropmix shook his head and placed down his datapad with a sigh, “No, they need the separate space. The gladiator almost took a hand off one of the nurses and it's better if the green one isn’t crowding us. We’ve still got a lot of patients out here.”

He wasn’t lying, not really. He just wasn’t telling the entire truth. Dropmix didn’t want Jeopardy anywhere near Cometeater. It was too risky. He knew that the creature was mostly docile, at least it had always seemed that way when it was with the twins, but it was still more dangerous than half the mechs in the room.

The red and black mech may have been able to fight it off, but not without endangering the other patients. He was older now too. His armor weighed him down and he was starting to experience the consequences of fighting in the pits for so long. He probably should have listened to Theremin more.

Jeopardy’s fingers twitched slightly and he looked at Dropmix with the familiar expression that told him that the young mech knew he wasn’t telling the truth. The red and white bot never said anything about it, that didn’t change today. After a brief pause he returned to his work.

Dropmix looked down at the list. All of the patients he had were stable, some would need surgery and more extreme repairs though. Unfortunately that made another issue arise, they didn’t have enough space to maintain all of these mechs until the proper supplies came in. delivery was slow, especially to an outpost like this, Dropmix hadn’t had time to restock from the last battle and they were going to suffer for it. He pulled up their inventory on his computer and started looking through and rationing it all.

“This is a new song,” Jeopardy commented, measuring liquids at a bedside tray.

The larger mech hummed, Dropmix had nearly forgotten about the subtle lulling in the background. He had turned down the volume when the wounded first started coming in. While he had been busy treating everyone he had turned on his own inner comms to play the music a little louder for himself. He internally adjusted the volume of the speakers in the Medibay, turning it up a bit more. “Yeah, I bought it off a Decepticon I ran into the other day.”

“When did you have time to go out?” Jeopardy asked, unphased by the content.

Dropmix shrugged as he clicked through more receipts and materials, “It was a while ago, when I had travelled to the medical station?”

He found what he was looking for in the inventory, supplies for healing organics.

“I was running across a border and ran into an injured Decepticon,” Dropmix carefully left out the part where he didn’t actually heal him, rather killing him and downloading the data off of his corpse. But those were the nitty gritty details that no one needed to worry about. Jeopardy didn’t need to know that and he didn’t give Dropmix that look. Good.

“Fun, I like the song. Could you add it to my playlist?” Jeopardy asked, effectively making himself busy with the patients.

“Yeah,” a few moments later and the song had been successfully added to the ‘Jeopardy’s favorites’ playlist Dropmix had made for him. He pushed himself out of his chair, ignoring the dull ache in his knees—a few too many harsh landings—and glanced at the inventory report a final time for the location of the supplies he needed. “I’ll be back.”

Jeopardy nodded and didn’t press any further. He was a good kid. Sometimes Dropmix worried about how unbothered he was with everything. He appreciated the fact that he never seemed to press or pry but sometimes his lack of asking questions was more unsettling. Future things to work on with him, now wasn’t the time.

The large red and black mech walked into a storage closet and started rummaging through supplies, slowly collecting anything he may have needed in a box to the side. He really didn’t know how organic Cometeater was, Dropmix had no idea what he actually was in the first place. But he knew what it looked like to ignore pain, Comet would not be the first mech to try that on him, and he most definitely wouldn't be the last.

Dropmix walked further in the closet, racing for a pack on the top shelf, accidentally pulling down a small box of other prescription drugs with it. He suppressed a sigh as he looked down at the mess. He kicked the scattered supplies to the side, he’d get to that later, he needed to stay focused. The sooner he healed Cometeater and got Sideswipe up and running the sooner they would be out of his medical bay and he wouldn’t have to deal with… unwanted attention.

A few more minutes or sorting through supplies and he finally had everything he needed collected, a little bit of everything. Dropmix stared at the box, he'd rather not bother addressing the two gladiators at all. If they didn’t recognize him then this would be an unnecessary risk. But Cometeater had, the others may have been too preoccupied to pay it any mind but Comet had said his name. He recognized Dropmix.

He needed to make sure Comet understood that he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about what Dropmix was. Hopefully if he offered to heal him then it would be easy to convince him. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. If that didn’t work—Comet could always argue that Dromix’s entire job was to heal after all—Dropmix would mention the fact that he knew what Comet was as well. If the red and black mech had learned anything from his time in the Pits watching the strange create, it would do anything to blend it.

Plan set Dropmix readied himself and walked out of the supply closet and to the small hallway with the private rooms. He looked through the patient names until he found the right room. He balanced the box on his hip and knocked on the door. He waited a few seconds then entered the room, closing the door with his foot behind him.

The main lights were off in the room, leaving the lights that constantly dimly glowed. Dropmix missed his other eye. He used his scanners to help locate where the other occupants were and hopefully where the lightswitch was. Cometeater was practically on top of Sideswipe, which explained why Dropmix was having such a difficult time figuring out what he was looking at. The medic set his box down on a chair.

“Dropmix,” a voice growled out dangerously. Cometeater had fluffed up his plating and had protectly placed himself between Sideswipe and Dropmix. His teeth were bared in an angry snarl as he dared Dropmix to get closer.

The music playing on the internal comm system crescendoed slightly.

The medic paid Comet’s body language and obvious challenge no mind, looking through the box with some difficulty due to the low lighting. “Cometeater.”

“What do you want? The medics are done with Sideswipe. Why are you here?” The creature hissed, not moving from his position on top of the twin. A low growl reverberated from his chest.

The song was in G minor.

Dropmix looked over at the other, “Are you trying to pick a fight?” he asked with a carefully crafted neutral expression. If it had been someone else he may have added a smile. With how defensive Comet was currently a smile would come off more menacing than he wanted.

“Get out,” Cometeater was basically seething. His claws flexed against the berth, slow and deliberate. A warning.

He probably felt cornered and the need to protect Sideswipe from Dropmix was strong. The medic didn’t blame him for it, the creature had seen him when he was a gladiator. They knew what he was capable of. He understood completely, it was the same reason he had gotten Comet away from Jeopardy.

The string instruments stole the melody from the brass.

Cometeater wasn't going to back down and stop trying to provoke Dropmix, that much was clear. Dropmix would just put him in his place, let him know who was in control. He needed to remind Cometeater that they weren’t in the Pits anymore, “This is my Medical bay, I can be whatever I want.”

It was a simple, “You're on my turf, back off.”

“What do you want?” The other demanded.

Dropmix looked over at Cometeater and motioned to the lights above, “Can I turn on the lights? I can’t see slag in here.”

You have some control, I’m not asking you to submit.

“No. What do you want, Dropmix?” Comet growled. He hadn’t moved from his position over Sideswipe, he was still challenging Dropmix.

There was a heavy bass line in the song, deep and prominent.

“I want a lot of things, not all of which I can have,” Dropmix tried humor, Comet bristled. Humor wasn’t the solution then, he needed to recover, “I just want to talk with you. I know you require a… Different kind of medical treatment than normal mechs. I’ve got some–”

Dropmix never got to finish, Comet had launched himself off of the bed and had set a target for the medic’s neck. Touchy subject. Dropmix felt his systems jump at the promise of a battle, programs rearing and starting up within moments.

The rest between songs was poorly planned.

The black and red mech moved to the side, twisting out of the way at the last minute. His supplies were sent askew on the floor as Comet collided with the box. The slagger was going to make a mess of his medical bay like he owned it.

Dropmix felt a growl escape his throat and his hand shot out before he could think much about it. Cometeater had twisted around and bit down hard on the gladiator’s wrist. Dropmix had prepared for that, pinned the smaller creature with his other hand. He pressed down harshly onto their chest, feeling them squirm under his grasp. Dropmix shifted under the heavy weight of his armor, it almost felt suffocating. He ripped his wrist from the creature's mouth with little care for the teeth still lodged in his wrist.

Energon dripped onto the floor.

Dropmix’s grip shifted to the creature's neck, forcing them against the wall. They scratched and kicked at him, his armor was thick enough that the erratic and uncoordinated movements didn’t do anything. He lifted up his free hand, suddenly aware of his lack of claws—he was supposed to have those for these kinds of things. An annoyed growl escaped his throat as he shifted his hand to a fist.

He swung.

The hand had been inches away from meeting Cometeater’s abused chest when the music finally resumed and Dropmix froze.

—

Ooooo a cliffhanger.

#transformers #transformer oc #one of isn’t mine!!!#oc writing #writing #part one #it’s too late #i hope this makes sense #I’m too tired to explain anything in the tags #but hey #I got like 1900 words written in two hours #look at me go #I’m built different #now I must sleep #see you in the morning

0 notes

quibble-auk · 3 hours ago

Text

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Okay. I finished the Sunrazor one. I apologize in advance, Comet doesn’t really do much in this. But I honestly had no idea how he’d react to this so… I just was like “we’ll make him watch and just be horrified”

So you know when I had mentioned that Comet probably would have seen a shift in Sunrazor after she sees valkyire? He doesn’t realize what’s happened but all of a sudden Sunrazor is not acting the same as before, and considering the fact that I’d imagine they go back and forth a bit it’s kinda unsettling for him.

And Sunrazor sees him and is like, “oh yeah I know this thing. I like it.” And she starts out pretty chill around him. Because yk, she’s knows what role to play with him. That hasn’t changed unlike literally everything else is for her.

I’m really hoping I got Comet right. I can change or edit this if I didn’t. Please tell me. I do not mind at all.

I also didn’t reread this at all so…. Yeah it might actually suck. Who knows lol

Or: What are you supposed to do when stumbling across the person that’s been hunting you down for years, but something’s telling you that’s not them.

WARNINGS!!!!

Angst (duh) Blood/Gore. self harm. impromptu surgery. Sanity? Never heard of her. Body horror.

—

Cometeater hadn’t known what he expected to find when he set out to scout the remnants of the battlefield, but it certainly wasn’t this. The destruction stretched around him in all directions—twisted metal, smoldering wreckage, the acrid scent of scorched Energon lingering in the air like a ghost of the violence that had unfolded here. Yet, amidst the ruins, something impossible lay before him.

Sunrazor.

She had no business being here. Not alone. Not like this.

The golden mech in question was sitting on the scorched and energon covered ground. She leaned limply against a large chunk of metal, the ruined remains of either a building or a crashed starship. Her head was bowed, gaze hidden from Cometeaters current position. But she was still, extremely so. Unsettlingly so. It almost didn’t feel like the same mech. Sunrazor the conquering and unnatural commander was nowhere in sight. Only some shell remained.

It didn’t even seem physically possible to find her like this, vulnerable and alone.

Killing her like this seemed almost too easy, like cheating. Not that Comet really minded cheating. His brothers had always fought dirty, and he’d learned quickly that survival meant doing the same. It wasn’t as if it was unfair to kill Sunrazor like this, if it had been Megatron instead no autobot would hesitate. She was a threat, she was dangerous, she deserved to die. If their positions were reversed, Sunrazor wouldn’t hesitate—she would gut him without a second thought. That was war. That was survival.

The sleek green figure expertly wove his way through the debris, stalking closer and closer to the fallen mech. Sunrazor had yet to look up or give any sign that she detected another’s presence.

Could she have been sleeping? Recharging out in the open like this?

Comet couldn’t help but pause and take a moment to look around for any sign of traps or other mechs hidden away to strike when he let his guard down. There was no one. Not a single other spark than the withering one before him. They were alone, isolated. He continued his approach, slower this time, even more cautious.

By the time he was just out of pouncing range Sunrazor abruptly shuddered into alertness. Her plating trembled as she lifted her head up wearily. The movement was sluggish, by the time she had lifted her head up completely Comet had already slid behind cover and out of her sight. Something was very wrong with her, that much was evident.

Even at a glance, she didn’t appear physically damaged—there were no gaping wounds, no shattered plating or leaking Energon pooling around her. But then… that sound.

Cometeater had never been one for mechanics—he didn’t need to understand how Cybertronians worked to know how to take them apart—but he’d gutted enough of them, fought beside and against enough of them, to know that no engine should sound like that.

It was an awful noise.

A sickly cacophony of metal grating against metal, an unnatural thrumming beneath it, underscored by a soft, pained whine. Hissing. Ticking. And every so often, an eerie, jarring clank that made him prickle with discomfort.

Even Ratchet, for all his cold efficiency, would have lost his mind at the sound of it.

Cometeater cringed.

Sunrazor’s gaze lingered on the spot where he had stood, her expression distant, unreadable. Then, slowly, her optics shifted—tracing the shadows, searching through the wreckage with unsettling precision. Cometeater tensed as her gaze settled on the cover he’d slipped behind. Her eyes were a stark white color, not the usual fiery red.

And then, she spoke.

“I know you’re there, Cometeater,” there was a weird twinge of static that followed each syllable. Something between a smile and a snarl formed on her lips, “Out on a scouting mission I presume? Did Jazz send you out alone again?”

No, Jazz hadn’t sent him out this time. Prowl had asked him, not that it made it any better. But it was always satisfying for Comet when Sunrazor was wrong. When she didn’t know everything she thought she did.

She snickered, it sounded forced and almost painful. She slowly rested her helm back against the metal behind her, looking down her nose at where Comet was. She vented heavily, art hot enough to slightly steam exiting her mouth and vents. “You’d think he’s trying to get rid of you.”

The pretender didn’t react to the words, he had learned not to. Her words were meant to dig under his plating, to prod at whatever doubts she thought might fester there. But Cometeater wasn’t foolish enough to rise to the bait. He had made his choice. His brothers needed him, and he wouldn’t abandon them—not for her, not for anyone.

But he moved now, shifting slightly from his hiding place. He didn’t reveal himself fully, but he adjusted his weight, his stance subtly shifting into something more predatory. A challenge. A test.

Comet watched the titan from where he lay concealed in the shadows. He remained quiet allowing that wretched noise to fill the silence. There was something extremely wrong with whatever was going on, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to kill her anymore. He didn’t want to get close to her. Not when he wasn’t able to figure out what she had planned or what was going on.

Another tremor wracked her frame and she growled, teeth bore as her eyes flicking back to their familiar red hue. She let out another hissing breath through her clenched teeth. Her plating flared angrily but was quickly pressed back tightly against her frame—that must be why she looked smaller.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, expression slipping into something eerily neutral. She tilted her head slightly, patiently waiting for a response.

Cometeater remained tense, watching every strained movement, every malfunctioning twitch. He didn’t move, he didn’t breathe.

Sunrazor’s eyes flicked again, this time to something that might have been blue before settling with the unsettling blank white. Her engine stuttered, stalling for a few seconds before resuming its horrendous racket. She muttered something to herself, accent thick and heavy, mingling with the static and making it unintelligible. The golden clad mech took another heavy breath before pushing herself to her feet, she stumbled and leaned on the wreckage. She wasn’t facing Comet head on anymore.

Cometeater remained motionless, silently watching her. Every instinct screamed at him to move, to strike while she was weak, but something about this situation made his lines crawl. Sunrazor was… wrong. It wasn’t just her voice, distorted and laced with static. It wasn’t just the eerie, flickering glow of her eyes. It was something deeper, something unnatural.

She shouldn’t be standing.

Not with the way her internals wheezed and ground against each other, not with the way her frame trembled under strain and stress. It was obvious that for some reason she was overheating, the smell of hot metal thick in the air. By all means she should be defenseless. Yet, there she was—upright, wavering, but unmistakably still a threat.

“You’re stubborn, real stubborn, did you know that?” her voice almost didn’t sound like her own anymore. There was no calculation, no carefully selected tone or vague threat with the words. They were simply angry. Angry and pained. She smiled, somehow it was even more twisted than before. “Too stubborn for your own good.”

Comet pressed himself further against the metal that currently kept him from the prying white eyes of the golden mech. The smell of hot metal was overwhelming now, intoxicating. His first instinct told him to run. His second told him to strike. But something colder, something sharper, kept him rooted in place. A dangerous sense of curiosity.

Another tremor wracked her frame, more violent this time, and her knee buckled. She caught herself on the wreckage, but barely. Her claws dug into the twisted metal, scraping deep gouges into the already ruined surface. Sunrazor chuckled dangerously. It wasn’t humor. It wasn’t even defiance. It was something closer to resignation, like she was laughing at some cruel joke only she understood.

She looked over at Comet, “You are afraid.” Sunrazor didn’t say it like an accusation. More like a realization.

Cometeater didn’t know if he was afraid or fascinated; he was merely an observer to whatever was happening to the powerful mech. Was he afraid? He didn’t think so. For once, he was not afraid of her, he didn’t fear Sunrazor because like this she posed no real threat. She could hardly stand. Comet could easily outrun any attempted attack and her blasters had been discarded to the side.

But perhaps he was afraid of having to possibly watch something like this happen to Sunstreaker or Sideswipe. Was this natural? Was this something age related? Sunrazor seemed to be falling apart. Was this what happened when Cybertrinains got old? Were the twins destined to meet the same fate? He fought back a whimper at the thought. That is what scared him.

What scared him was if this was what was natural, that this was the closest thing to being alive and human that Sunrazor could be.

The behemoth flashed a toothy grin, “Yes, you are afraid… Just not of me.” She muttered under her breath again, quiet and menacing. A clawed hand grasped at her head, metal groaned. There was a pause and Sunrazor giggled at something.

Comet didn’t believe it, she giggled, actually giggled. It was far from innocent or cute, it was the opposite. It was demented and twisted. Maybe he was afraid of her. But this was a different kind of fear, not the kind you felt when thrown into an arena battle or when he was injured alone on enemy territory. This was something primitive, something primal that urged him to get away.

“Otherwise you would have attacked me by now, “ she began, her words were breathy and quiet, “I’d be dead right now. But you are afraid. Afraid of—”

She cut off with a sharp intake of breath as another violent tremor wracked her frame. Her plating flared out again, vents choking on the heat that poured off of her in waves. For a moment, she looked unsteady, fragile in a way that Sunrazor never should be.

Then, something inside her lurched.

A horrible, wet, metallic snap echoed in the silence, and Sunrazor jerked, her entire body locking up. She fell to her knees, growling. Her hands started moving before the Comet could register what was happening. Plates were shifting to reveal delicate internals that should not be that easily accessible. Sunrazor was willingly making herself vulnerable. That alone was off, but what the shifting plating revealed made Comet recoil.

It was all so utterly wrong it made him feel sick.

The insides of Cyybertronians weren’t supposed to look like that. He had torn into enough mechs to know what inside should look like. This should be no different, he should have felt hunger upon this sight, perhaps the urge to hunt? He didn’t. Cometeater wanted to gag.

Energon pooled from her chest as she glared down at her exposed internals Her spark was safely concealed and protected, but the other jumbled up internals were a glowing red, some of them obviously damaged. After a few moments of silence she reached into herself and grabbed something with a large clawed hand. She winced, tensing for a brief moment before harshly ripping it out.

Comet watched. He watched because he couldn't do anything else.

Sunrazor clutched whatever it was in her hand, more energon flowing down her front. Plates closed once again, returning to their original position of guarding her chest. Sunrazor had something close to a satisfied smile spread across her face, her eyes returned to their fiery red. She looked at the object, examining it for a few moments before discarding it to the side.

Her engine wasn’t making that noise anymore, Comet realized, blinking back his surprise harshly.

“Either Torrent is testing me again or he wants me dead,” Sunrazor stated, voice returning to something natural and less static filled. She smiled and looked up at Comet, “I suppose both our superiors are eager to get rid of the monsters in their ranks.”

Comet should have attacked, he should have ran or done something because Sunrazor was standing again. Despite the energon leaking between her plating she was standing and reaching for her blaster.

“You should have killed me when you had the chance.”

0 notes