#I’m just so confused | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quibble-auk · 2 months ago

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@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Dropmix Trials

Also my thoughts on Comet just kinda freezing is like… Dropmix is the tormentor of his tormentor. How is he even supposed to fight against that? (Of course, that’s in his head. You also said that he’s a survival driven character and if his hunger pains were to get bad enough he would eat the twins. So like… what if when in survival mode his body still prioritizes his own safety over his brothers. Even if he doesn’t want it to)

Sunstreaker makes a mistake.

—

Dropmix still loomed over him, his hand still heavily sitting on his hand. Comet hadn’t dared to move, not even willing to look up at the other. Terror, anger, sadness, betrayal, and horror all suffocated Cometeater. He felt like there were more emotions there, maybe disgust? Dread? Guilt? He didn’t know. Everything had happened so quickly, too quickly. Sunstreaker was almost at Dropmix’s side. The larger gladiator didn’t seem to care.

“Sunstreaker, we both know you won't win that fight,” He stated gruffly, his voice painfully neutral. Comet could hear him shift. When had he come in? How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there? Comeateater should have noticed when he came in.

The golden gladiator didn’t stop, bristling with anger and distress. He didn’t say anything, opting for a low growl as he stalked closer. He wouldn’t risk an attack with Comet so close. Not until Sunny was close enough himself to prevent any harm from his brother. Dropmix had control over the situation, it would be too easy for him to hurt Comet if he wanted to prove a point to Sunstreaker. So, he continued his slow approach, plotting.

Comet remained still, taking small desperate breaths. He fought himself to slowly turn to see Dropmix, the movement jerky and forced. The behemoth towered over him, just like Sunrazor. Was he even allowed to think that anymore after seeing her so small and helpless? It was no excuse for what she did but… she had been terrified.

Dropmix’s jaw was set, his other hand gripped into a tight fist. Comet could faintly hear his plating groaning against the armor he wore, it was barely audible, but it was there. He could smell hot metal as battle programs fought to activate, trying to redirect energon flow and prepare for action. But they were being squandered, something was keeping them from setting in place.

The self control Dropmix was executing to keep his hand from crushing Cometeater’s shoulder was impressive. It was obvious that he was tense, his otherwise controlled expression twitching. His single exposed eye shone with anger, hot and unforgiving.

It was the same kind of anger that Sunstreaker was still recovering from. The kind that made gladiators irrational. It should have made him violent, extremely so. He should have been raging by now, throwing Comet and dominating Sunstreaker. Wrecking and killing everything in his path.

But he wasn’t.

Cometeater was convinced that it was worse.

He hadn’t even noticed Dropmix was holding his breath until he heard him let out a deep, stressed huff. His eye closed as he did so, opening again when he inhaled. The anger was still there, but his focus seemed gone, his gaze almost distant as he moved.

Comet braced himself for something, anything.

He hadn’t been prepared to be taken out of the chair and shoved to the side as if he wasn’t the cause for Dropmix’s anger. He couldn’t help the small yelp when he had been shoved. Sunstreaker darted forward to catch him before he could fall onto the floor entirely. Comet looked at Dropmix in shock from his place in his brother’s arms. Any moment now, the gladiator would lash out, just like they all did.

Dropmix sat down in the chair.

What?

Sunstreaker placed himself between Comet and Dropmix, still slowly approaching the latter. His eyes flicked across Dropmix, searching for the best weakness to exploit. The fastest route to victory. The golden twin’s mouth was open slightly, fangs bared in an angry snarl.

Comet gripped his wrist, trying to keep him from exploding. Sunstreaker wouldn’t win the fight with the drugs in his system but he didn’t seem to realize it. He didn’t know what Dropmix was, he didn’t have the full picture. Cometeater couldn’t stop the panicked whine from escaping his throat.

That only seemed to add to Sunstreaker’s edge, his snarl turning into a deep growl. He shook off Comet’s grip without looking away from his target.

Dropmix sat in the chair, just as rigid as before. He blinked harshly, now both hands pressed into tight fists. His jaw was still clenched tightly, a small shiver occasionally rushing through him. As Sunstreaker got closer the larger mech growled, low and guttural. It was a warning to back off.

The golden gladiator paid it no mind and took another step forward.

Comet reached desperately for his brother again. Sunstreaker wouldn’t win, not when he was like this. Not against Dropmix. Not against the monster that sat innocently in that chair like some damn pacifist. Like he was above the violence that had forged him.

Cometeater gripped onto his brother’s arm and pulled harder this time. They needed to get away from Dropmix, get back to Sideswipe. Comet felt himself hiccup, letting out a short strangled gasp. Sideswipe was still asleep, he had managed to convince Jeopardy to let him be around for Sunstreaker’s surgeries in the back… but not Sideswipe. Dropmix had—he must have—done something to him.

They needed to check on Sideswipe, to see what Dropmix had done to him! They didn’t have time for this. What if Dropmix had done what he did to Sunrazor? Comet looked back at his sleeping brother with a pained expression. What if it was too late? He didn’t want Sideswipe to become that. To become like her. He deserved better. The yellow twin halted at the tug but didn’t acknowledge him further, all of his attention focused on the seething mech in the chair.

“You don’t touch him,” Sunstreaker growled.

Dropmix’s attention snapped to Sunstreaker, attentiveness returning to his gaze as it singled on the other gladiator. He pushed himself out of the chair, chin raised and defiant, eyes alight with fury and mouth pulled into a snarl. Comet could hear the battle programs finally activate fully. The large mech’s voice was harsh and dangerous, he had finally broke, giving way to the anger, “You don’t—”

He stumbled, wincing slightly, bracing himself on the edge of the desk. He gasped slightly, it almost sounded pained, like he had taken a punch to the gut. Dropmix blinked harshly, fist meeting the desk angrily as he muttered something to himself. He breathed deeply, body rigid again.

Sunstreaker smirked, growing more bold. This was a victory, his opponent was giving in.

Cometeater stared in horror, his grip of his brother going lax as he struggled to comprehend everything. It was still too much, the smells, the lights, the noises. His mind was still reeling from what he had learned, but… Dropmix was submitting? No, there had to be an angle, he wouldn’t give in without a fight, not when he would easily win.

“What?” Sunstreaker sneered down at the other cruelly, “Gonna give in that easy, old man?”

Comet wanted to slap his brother—maybe in a different scenario he might have, Sideswipe definitely would have—he should not be egging the other on like this. He should not be tempting Dropmix to react. They were lucky he had remained in control so far, there was no point in pushing that luck. Comet didn’t move though, he didn’t want to get any closer to Dropmix, his grip on his brother tightened again.

Whatever was going on, it wasn’t safe.

They needed to go check on Sideswipe.

Dropmix took another heaving breath, his hand moving to under the table in a slow and controlled movement. He wasn’t looking at them anymore, his gaze firmly planted on the desk.

Comet felt even more dread and fear well up within him, any words he may have said to get Sunstreaker to stand down dying in his throat. Dropmix had to have had a plan. He would never submit, not that easily. The green mech had to remind himself to breathe again.

The black gladiator revealed his hand, now wielding a pistol and lifting it to Sunstreaker’s chest. He was still hunched over the desk, a one hand supporting his weight as his gaze lifted from the table to Sunstreaker. His grip was deathly tight, that anger still present in his eye. He would not hesitate. He had killed before—no, he had done worse, Comet knew that now. Dropmix was capable of causing something worse than death could be.

Cometeater felt himself freeze up all over again at the sight of the blaster, his breath hitching as his body stilled—when had he started trembling? His brother tensed and his smile dropped from his face, shocked. Sunstreaker’s mouth hung open a bit, it was almost like he was struggling to comprehend how Dropmix had gotten possession of the weapon. He probably didn’t—Comet realized—he was disoriented enough.

“I told you, Sunstreaker, you weren’t going to win. Go sit your aft down on the berth,” Dropmix growled through filed down teeth, ones that once had looked just like Comet’s brothers.

He didn’t like that.

The green mech spared a glance over at Sideswipe again, he hadn’t moved, it was both terrifying and relieving at the same time. Comet’s grip tightened on his brother, pulling lightly, trying to get him to disengage. Sunstreaker was staring at the gun, his gaze slowly moving up to meet Dropmix’s face.

“You wouldn’t,” The twin snarled like it was a fact. As if he could simply will that into existence by stating it out loud.

Comet whined painfully again. How could Sunstreaker not tell that Sideswipe needed them? Why was he still so caught up in proving a point, Comet didn’t care, the only thing that mattered was getting to sideswipe before it was too late. Before he became just like Sunrazor. He tugged on his brother’s wrist again. Did he not see that the gun’s safety wasn’t on?

You didn’t point a gun at someone without the safety on unless you were willing to pull the trigger.

Dropmix was more than willing to do that. Cometeater knew it. The wild look in his eye, the way his battle programs hadn’t been beaten down into submission yet. He was still tense, coiled up and ready to react if they stepped out of line. He had killed before. He would do it again.

“Sunstreaker–” he finally managed to get his voice to cooperate with him, the tone strained and shaky, his brother didn’t respond. Instead he shifted, confidence returning.

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t dare to shoot,” Sunstreaker was smiling again, satisfaction shining in his eyes, “Not with Jeopardy in earshot.”

Dropmix didn’t move, he stopped breathing entirely.

Sunstreaker’s smile became cynical, mad. Comet couldn’t help but be reminded of Sunrazor when she cornered him. When she forgot that he could bite back, when she felt like she was dominating and in her element. He let go of Sunstreaker and flinched back.

The golden mech—just like Sunrazor, Comet had never realized how close their colors were before—tilted his head at the reaction, taking another step forward, leaning down and invading the other’s space, his voice smooth and cruel, “You’ve always had a soft spot for medics haven’t you? What happened to the last one? Did he find out your—”

He never got to finish his statement.

Sunstreaker’s face was slammed into the desk, hard enough that Comet could hear his nose crack from where he stood. His brother cried out, a mix of anger and rage. The larger mech’s hand still firmly pressed his head into the desk. His body tense, teeth bared like there were still fangs to display. His eyes weren’t distant anymore. That anger had shifted into something more, becoming something that Comet wasn’t able to describe.

Cometeater didn’t know what to do. Sunstreaker was never going to win the fight with Dropmix. But Sideswipe still needed him, every second they wasted he could be getting closer and closer to becoming something else. How was Comet meant to help both of them? How could he choose one over the other and live with the consequences? His body seemed to choose for him, keeping him firmly in place. Like a coward. Some brother he turned out to be.

Useless.

Sunstreaker’s clawed hands went to rake at Dropmix’s armor, clawing at the thick armor. Dropmis didn’t flinch, he pulled the hand with Sunstreaker’s head still firmly grasped in it up. Comet flinched as he bashed it down on the desk again, another crack echoing around the still room. Which was another thing that was wrong.

The music had been cut off.

Dropmix had turned it off mid song.

The dark gladiator lifted his brother’s helm again, slamming it down again. Another snap rattling the room. Cometeater could feel hot tears running down his face as Sunstreaker went slack against the table. Why couldn’t he move? He had defended his brother so many times before, why was this any different? Why was his body so focused on keeping himself alive instead of defending Sunstreaker?

Dropmix didn’t stop there, lifting the limp mech’s head and throwing him into the ground, energon seeped from Sunstreaker’s helm. He didn’t move when he met the floor, he just lay there unresponsive as Dropmix towered over him. The titan breathed heavily—like Sunrazor would—mouth open and teeth still exposed. Dropmix lifted the blaster in his hand.

No.

Cometeater let out a strangled cry.

The music cut through the silence again and Dropmix flinched so hard he dropped the gun. The gladiator stumbled backwards, hands grasping at his head as he hissed in pain, curling in on himself. His breaths became more like desperate pants as he struggled with…

With a behavioral compliance program—Comet realized.

That was the only reason Sunstreaker was alive.

Dumb luck.

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