#look there’s some really good rescue bots fics out there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silkling · 4 years ago

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This fic is another ask box prompt from @star-tartlet. They put two prompts in one ask and I like the, both so much that I wrote them both. For organization’s sake, I wrote them as separate posts. This was the prompt:

“What if Sigma 17 were woken up earlier, like halfway through the war when their pod is discovered by an Autobot ship.. mby Blades' brothers are still aware and he can feel them, but otherwise they're just dumped straight into war. Poor bbys.”

(I decided to make it so the Autobot army isn’t quite so scattered and most of them are concentrated on the Ark, but Cybertronians on Earth isn’t really a thing yet.)

———————————————————————————————————

A large starship floated through the vast expanse of space. On board the bridge, a tall blue and red mech stood, a smaller white and red bot at his side. Optimus Prime stood at the massive front viewport of the Ark, the bridge crew working around him, keeping the ship going ever forward. His chief medical officer and one of his oldest friends stood his his side.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded from a terminal to his right. He snapped his attention to the mech manning it.

“Inferno, report.”

“Proximity alarm. Starboard sensors picked up the form of a ship, Sir. A very small one. It’s systems are down but it was detected because Teletraan analyzed it and it pinged back as being Cybertronian. No life signs, but the ship is undamaged and intact.” the mech answered promptly.

“Pull up the visuals.”

Inferno tapped in a few commands, easily doing so, and a screen flickered over the viewport of the bridge, displaying the ship. Optimus frowned as his processor distantly recognized the model, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where. At his side, Ratchet made a choked noise. He shot his friend a concerned look.

“A Sigma….” the medic rasped, optics wide and focused on the image of the ship.

A Sigma? That sounded familiar, but he still couldn’t quite remember from where. It was obviously significant, to have his old friend reacting with such wild shock.

“A Sigma?” That was Inferno. “I’m not familiar with that.”

“Sigma, Tau, Upsilon, and Phi.” Ratchet answered, voice hoarse. “Do those designations jog any memories?”

There was a sharp inhale from the mech beside Inferno. “Wait, you mean-“ Trailbreaker was cut off by Ratchet, the medic’s words making the entire bridge go silent.

“That’s a Rescue Bot ship.”

——————————

Blades came to with a rough gasp as his optics onlined, his systems already whirling with a gentle hum. He stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what was wrong with the image he was seeing. Then he remembered. The distress call, the energon eater, going into stasis. He shot upright, the wheels of his altmode spinning rapidly with his distress as he flailed….and ended up tumbling right off a berth. That wasn’t right. If he was coming out of stasis, he should he upright, stepping out of the pod on his own power. If he wasn’t….that meant someone had found them, kept them in a medical stasis, and removed them from the pods.

Sure enough, a hand was held out in front of his face a moment later, and Blades looked up to see an older bot with the medics’s symbol on his shoulders. “Are you alright there, youngling?”

Blades blinked, taking his hand and letting himself be pulled up. “I’m fine.” he said. “Where am I? The last thing I remember is being attacked and going into stasis…” he trailed off, remembering how his brothers had felt his fear across their bond, but he’d been too far from them for them to communicate with words so they’d only sent worry and reassurance his way. His spark ached, as if the bond he shared with his brothers was strained for some reason.

Which…that worried him. The only reason a spark bond would become so strained was distance or time, and as far as Blades knew he hadn’t been so far for it to become this muted, which left…time. That wouldn’t make sense, though. The Rescue Force HQ would have sent out a Priority Prime message to bring the Sigma home once they missed their check in, which should have only been a couple orns after they entered stasis. That wouldn’t be enough time for the bond to become so strained. Not unless…not unless they’d been in stasis for longer than a few orns.

Cold fear seized his spark, and he flinched back from the hand that lifted to brush against his face. Oh, right. The medic.

“Youngling?” the medic asked, voice going softer. “Are you hurt?”

Blades blinked, staring up at the bot for a moment, and then he squeaked and nodded hurriedly. “Yes! I mean no! I’m not hurt. I’m just, I’m confused.” he said a little helplessly. His spark ached. He wanted his brothers. Where was he? Where were they?

The medic nodded, offering his hand out again. “I’m Ratchet. We found your ship floating in deep space. Your team is already up and your leader told us about what he did with the Priority Prime. It was a good idea, though I’m sorry it wasn’t activated before.” he said grimly.

Blades frowned, taking Ratchet’s hand and clapping it in the typical greeting. “I’m Blades. How long were we in stasis?”

Ratchet didn’t answer, just giving him a look Blades didn’t really want to interpret, and then shook his helm and gestured. “Follow me. We’ll explain it when your team is all there.”

Blades followed the older mech to a connected room, smiling nervously at his team and moving to sit next to Boulder. He noticed the large blue and red mech as as Rachet went to stand beside him, leaning up to whisper somehing to him that Blades couldn’t hear. The mech nodded, then turned to gaze at the Rescue Team. Blades rubbed at his chestplate, his spark aching to strengthen and reaffirm his bond with his brothers. He thought he could feel them, faintly. Could they feel him, now that he was out of stasis?

“Rescue Team Sigma-17.” The red and blue bot spoke. “I am Optimus Prime. I apologize that you were not found sooner, but I fear I have grave news.” he rumbled. “I am sure you were aware of the social revolution that was brewing before your mission took you off Cybertron. I regret to say that in the time since you went is to stasis, the revolution broke into War, and as a consequence of that War Cybertron is no more.”

Blade’s spark went cold, and he felt like the ground dropped out from under him.

No.

——————————

Blades followed Ratchet through the halls of what he had learned was a ship. One called the Ark, apparently. His processor was still reeling with everything they’d been told. The Rescue Force was gone. A couple orns after they’d gone into stasis, the revolution leader, Megatron, had launched an attack. He’d razed the headquarters to the ground, and then his army–because he’d grown himself an army of the angry and the beaten–had hunted and slaughtered every team who who escaped or who hadn’t been at the HQ during the attack. Sigma-17 was the last Rescue Team.

What’s more, the destruction of the Rescue Force had only been Megatron’s debut. The attack had earned him and his followers the name “Decepticons”, and he’d followed that act by launching all-out war. It had gone on for many mega-cycles, until eventually Cybertron had been depleted of all resources and utterly destroyed. That was when the two factions, the Autobots who were led by Optimus Prime, and Megatron’s Decepticons, had built massive starships and taken the War off planet. It had been a few vorns since they’d left Cybertron, as they’d been told, and the Autobots were on the hunt for planets where they could mine energon. That was when they’d found the Sigma.

Blades felt sick to his tanks. He remembered Megatron. He’d gone with Groove to one of the rallies. How could he not? Groove was a flyer. He was a helicopter, not a Seeker, so he didn’t have it as bad as he could, but…Blades knew his brother had still faced cruelty and hatred and had been ostracized because he was a flight-frame. Sure, not everyone had done it but it had been enough that Groove had been pretty badly affected by it. His brother had been excited by Megatron, Blades remembered. He hadn’t liked the talks of violence and the way it had all been said, because Groove had always been so peaceful and pacifistic, but the words and message had resonated with him in a way that had made Blades’s spark ache. He’d hated seeing him so beaten down by the way he was treated, and he knew the others had felt the same. They felt the echoes of how the treatment affected Groove through the bond, after all. They’d never faced the hatred themselves, but because of the fact that they all shared a gestalt bond, Blades and the others had very keenly felt Groove’s pain and grief and resignation right alongside him.

So he remembered Megatron. The large gunmetal mech had made him nervous, even from where he was at the back of the rally crowd, but he hadn’t wanted Groove to go alone and the others had been busy with their own training. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it was easy to see why so many had flocked to him. He spoke promises of equality, of justice, of being able to live freely without being forced into something you didn’t want and without being hated for something you couldn’t control. The thing was, it had sounded nice. But Blades hadn’t liked how Megatron seemed to insist that the only way to attain that was through violence, and Groove had agreed. They hadn’t gone to another rally, after that. But looking back on that one they had attended…well, Blades wasn’t entirely surprised the revolution had grown to War. There had just been too much resentment amongst the flight-frames and the lower castes, which greatly outnumbered the content upper castes, for the situation not to erupt to something more extreme.

Blades shook himself from his introspection, refocusing on the present. His spark still ached, and he pawed at his chestplates again, frowning in displeasure. If he focused, he could feel the tendrils of the bonds he shared with his brothers, but they were weak and muted. So much so that they probably wouldn’t feel that he’d come out of stasis. He glanced up to notice Ratchet cast him a concerned look, and he quickly dropped his hand.

“Are you alright, Blades?” he asked.

The small motorcycle nodded. “I’m fine!” he assured. “Just, uh…remembering.” he said lamely.

Ratchet looked unimpressed, but he nodded anyway and stopped in front of a door. “This is the Rec Room.” he explained.

Which, yeah. That would work nicely. After Optimus had finished explaining things and Sigma-17 had calmed down, the team had decided to split up. Heatwave, as the leader, would stay with the Prime to work out what the team would need to do to adjust and move forward and what their options for the future were. Chase had been sent off with the Prime’s second in command, a mech called Prowl, to go over the regulations and protocols for the Ark and for the Autobots at large. Boulder would work with the Autobot’s engineers and scientists to repair and upgrade the Sigma, since the ship was still intact and just needed to be better outfitted for potential combat. That left Blades, who Heatwave had tasked with getting in among the rest of the Autobots to begin establishing connections and testing the waters. The fire truck wanted his most sociable teammate to take care of figuring out what the Autobots were like and maybe figuring out how Sigma-17 could possibly begin integrating, in the social sense.

“Right.” Blades straightened, feeling nervous. “Then I guess we should do it?”

Ratchet snorted. “That’s the spirit.” he muttered, and then the door opened and he slipped inside. Blades followed close behind, his slimmer frame mostly hidden behind the medic’s bulkier one.

“Listen up, you collection of glitches!” Ratchet barked. Instantly, all conversation stopped and the room full of mechs and femmes snapped their attention to the medic. “I’m sure you all heard about the shuttle the Ark picked up by now. I know how fast gossip travels on the blasted ship!” he continued. “Well, there were mechs inside. They were in stasis, and we got them out and debriefed. Most of them are working with other officers to get their affairs sorted. One of them came to play nice with you sorry scrapheaps, so try not to scare the brat off.” he finished, the look in his optics promising pain for anyone who didn’t do as he’d asked. Then he stepped aside, and Blades was revealed to the rest of the room.

The motorcycle found his optics sliding around the room, his hands tucked and curled in close to his chest. Primus, the attention was making him nervous. But then, there was the sound of a chair scraping harshly across metal, and Blades’s optics snapped to the source. When he found it, his vents froze and his spark started pulsing rapidly.

His brothers sat together around one table, and First Aid was standing with his palms pressed flat to its surface. They were all staring at him, and all but the small medic had a hand pressed over their chestplates, where Blades was sure their sparks were pulsing as erratically as his was.

“B-Blades?” First Aid’s voice was weak and disbelieving, but also thick and with unbearable grief. “Is that r-really you?”

It took Blades a moment to realize why his brothers were reacting like that to him. Then it clicked. The last time they had sensed him over the bond, they had felt his fear and panic and nothing more, and then he’d gone into stasis. And he knew stasis dampened spark bonds to the point they felt dead. His brothers’ last memory of his presence was his own terror, and then the bond would have gone silent, and only a short handful of orns later the Rescue Force was destroyed and all remaining Rescue Teams hunted and massacred. Which meant…which meant that, for the past several mega-cycles since Blades had entered stasis, his brothers could only have believed that he’d been offlined with the with the rest of the Rescue Bots. For the entirety of the time he’d been in stasis, Blades’s brothers had thought he was dead.

Blades felt his spark roar in agony as the realization struck. Oh Primus, his brothers had spent countless stellar cycles thinking their bond was broken, their gestalt incomplete. The knowledge hurt, even more than learning about Cybertron and the Rescue Force’s demise had hurt. It hurt so much it was almost physically painful, and Blades let out a weak whimper with it.

But First Aid’s sharp, agonized keening drowned him out, snapping him back to reality, and in the face of his younger brother’s pain, Blades did the only thing he could. He uncurled his hands from his chest and took a small step forward, his arms extending just a little.

“Yeah, ‘Aid.” he whispered, but in the dead silence of the Rec Room it carried to every audial present. “It’s me. I’m here.”

That was all it took, because First Aid let out a sharp, piercing wail and then lunged across the room. He almost bowled over a small white and pale blue minibot in his mad dash towards the motorcycle, but Blades didn’t have time to find humor in it. In the next sparkbeat, First Aid crashed into him and Blades stumbled back, but managed to stay upright. Arms wrapped tightly around his frame and First Aid buried his face in his neck, clutching him tightly as if Blades was going to disappear the moment he let go. The Rescue Bot didn’t protest the hold, and instead wrapped one arm equally as tightly around his youngest brother. The other, he held out towards his three older ones.

“Hot Spot, Streetwise, Groove?” he asked, his voice holding a desperate plea he knew only they would understand. “I’m home.” And he was. The Ark wasn’t Cybertron, but as long as he had his brothers he’d always be home.

That seemed to be the key to breaking them from their stupor, however, because in the next moment the last three of his gestalt barreling across the room towards him. He didn’t even have time to brace for impact before three heavy metals forms slammed into him hard enough to send all five brothers crashing to the floor. The five forms were silent for only a beat before they erupted into sound: hoarse, desperate, near manic laughter and heavy, relieved, gasping sobs, broken only by unintelligible mumbles and whispers.

The other bots in the room had startled and started staring when First Aid had stood so suddenly, but now everyone was staring at the scene. There was confusion and concern filling the air from every side, but no mech or femme dared to interrupt the scene they were inadvertently intruding on. No one knew exactly what was going on or who they all were to each other, but they could tell that, whatever this was, it was important.

Blades and his brothers, for their parts, didn’t even notice that they had an audience. They’d forgotten that there even were any other bots around them, too wrapped up in the sheer joy and relief of their reunion. Their bond was already strengthening; the weakened, frayed bonds that had been so silent starting to weave themselves back together as the younglings held each other close. As their spark bond began to reestablish itself, their sparks all glowed just a little more brightly, enough that a very, very faint glow could be seen from under their chestplates.

Ratchet, for his part, was both infuriated and confused. He’d gotten concerned when First Aid had stood so suddenly, about to call out to his apprentice when Blades had cut him off before he’s even spoken. Then the younger medic had launched himself at the Rescue Bot, and Blades had called to the three younglings that usually hung out around his apprentice, and then they were all clutching each other and sobbing. Ratchet could see a very faint glow from their spark chambers under their chestplates, and concern curled in his tanks. He pulled a portable scanner from his subspace, turning it on the messy pile of younglings on the floor, and did a quick scan on them. The scanner beeped back results, and Ratchet found his vents hitching.

The five sparks in front of him resonated with each other. They resonated far, far too closely to be a coincidence. The pieces fell into place. Blades’s rubbing his chest since he’d come out of stasis, First Aid’s reaction to seeing the orange and white motorcycle, the other three’s reaction to Blades calling their names, even First Aid’s insistence on always hanging around three mechs Ratchet had thought he had no connection or relation to before today. All the pieces clicked into place to form a startlingly clear image. Pit, Ratchet was going to strangle his idiot apprentice for not telling him he shared a spark bond with Hot Spot, Streetwise, and Groove, even if they had thought that their fifth member was offline.

“Primus bless.” he whispered reverently, his processor not focused on any of his irritation in the immediate discovery. His quiet exclamation made the nearest bots helm’s snap to him. “They’re gestalt.”

There was dead silence, other than the reunion of brothers on the floor, as that news was passed along the comm. lines of everyone in the room. Then, pandemonium.

Blades, First Aid, Hot Spot, Streetwise, and Groove didn’t even notice, blind as they were to everything but each other. Blades was back, and the five brothers were finally whole. That was all that mattered.

——————————

The Protectobots, as Hot Spot had told Prime that their gestalt was called, had been given a large room to share. It was common procedure among the Autobots for spark bonded mechs to share a room, if they so chose to. Obviously, Blades and his brothers agreed eagerly. The other four moved out of their old rooms, and they were given a very large hangar-like room close to the medbay. It had taken them the rest of the orn after getting things settled with Optimus and his command team before they had finished setting it up. Blades had been touched, but also deeply saddened, to see that his brothers had kept a box of his possessions from their shared home back on Cybertron. It wasn’t much, really. His favorite data pads, some decorative crystals, his music instrument, and some of the handheld puzzles he’d always enjoyed messing with whenever his nerves got the best of him. Still, the fact that they kept it all spoke volumes of how his apparent loss had affected them.

After the mess in the Rec Room, and when Blades and his brothers had finally calmed down, they’d been taken straight to Prime to explain themselves, and then dragged to Ratchet for a thorough medical examination. And then, finally, blessedly, they’d been offered the room and sent off to get settled into it when they’d agreed. Blades had been mortified. The entire experience had been so very nerve-wracking, especially considering that the Autobots were very much military and he very much was not.

But now, the Ark had cycled into the recharge cycle, during which all the lights dimmed and the Autobots not on the night shift bedded down to recharge. Blades and his brothers had managed to shove the five berths together into one, piling it high with all the mesh blankets and pillows in the room. Now they were all sleeping together, tangled and piled atop each other. Blades was almost certain that it was Hot Spot’s pede digging into his hip, and that his own arm was pinned between Streetwise and First Aid. He was also quite sure that it was Groove who was face down on his stomach, but with the dark it was hard to say. He knew to most bots this would look highly uncomfortable, but to Blades it was absolutely perfect. Well, except for the knee digging into his spinal strut, but he couldn’t have everything, he supposed.

As he lay awake, his processor worked sleepily. He knew that his team might want to leave, to try and avoid the War. He understood why. They were Rescue Bots. They saved lives, and staying to fight meant they’d have to learn how to take lives. But Blades…he refused to leave his brothers. Even if he had to leave Sigma-17, he’d stay here. Besides, if his brothers could do this, so could he. They were supposed to have been an Advanced Rescue Team, after all.

Blades and his brothers had come out of the Well with frames already suited for rescue work. And they’d genuinely wanted to do rescue work, so they hadn’t minded. First Aid was a medical responder, Hot Spot was disaster relief, Streetwise was enforcement, Groove was search and rescue, and Blades’s frame had been unique in its adaptability, meaning that he had been able to do a little of all those jobs. His role had been to partner with and adapt to whatever job needed doing on any given rescue.

His brothers hadn’t entered the Rescue Force at first, choosing to do advanced training for their specialization outside of the Rescue Bot Academy. That was probably what had saved them from what they’d called the Purge. Blades himself had joined the Rescue Force from the get go, taking classes in all the specializations so he’d be best able to play his role on his gestalt.

The plan had been that Blades would gain field experience while his brothers finished their training, and then they’d all join the Rescue Force as a gestalt, as the Protectobots. Pit, it had been the Rescue Force itself that had given their gestalt its name. They’d have been an advanced team, taking on missions that were further from home, or in dangerous territory, or with higher risks. Missions that a standard Rescue Team might struggle with. The mission he’d been on before all this, the one with the energon eater, was supposed to have been his last one before he transferred to become a team with his brothers. But that hadn’t happened, and now he was here. His brothers, who had spent centuries fighting in a War. So Blades was certain that he could learn to fight, too. For his brothers.

——————————

It was the next orn when Blades got a harsh taste of what the War was like. They had woken to Ratchet slamming into the room, barking at First Aid that there had been an attack on a team who weren’t on the Ark, and who had returned in need of medical care. The Wreckers, apparently, and they were severely wounded. Blades’s processor kicked into gear as First Aid bolted after his mentor, and he followed his little brother. The other three stayed, knowing they’d be no use where to two youngest of their gestalt were going.

As they headed down to the medbay, Blades spoke over the bond.

:Who are the Wreckers?:

:A highly skilled and elite team of very destructive berserker and melee class warriors. Their missions are highly dangerous. Oftentimes they’re more of a suicide squad because of how deadly their battles can be.:

Blades hummed his acknowledgment, and they both spilled into the medbay. Ratchet whirled, his optics locking and narrowing on Blades. “Unless you’re injured, out! I’ve no time for you!”

Blades cast a quick glance around, and if his processor wasn’t running on rescue protocols then the sight that greeted him would have made him have a nervous breakdown. All the medical tables were filled, and not a single mech on them had a minor injury. There were body parts and energon everywhere. He turned a hard look to Ratchet, shoulders lifting.

“You need me.” he said, voice level. “I’m a First Tier Triage Medic, fully licensed. I can’t completely repair the most severe of the wounds, but I can fix the more minor ones and patch up the severe ones well enough to keep these mechs alive until you or ‘Aid can get to them.”

First Tier Triage medics were licensed to deal with field injuries of any severity, but as Blades said his skills weren’t to repair those wounds fully, just to keep the mechs under his care alive until proper care could be administered. He’d taken his training seriously. He’d even gotten the minor upgrade that let him transform his digits into triage-grade medical tools. He wouldn’t have the same innate skill with them as a sparked medic like First Aid or Ratchet, but he was good enough to save lives.

It seemed that was enough to convince Ratchet, because the mech only stared for a sparkbeat, narrowed his eyes, then nodded stiffly. “In that case, you’ll probably see this place a lot more in the future. Get to work. First Aid, you know what to do.” he said shortly, and then he whirled back to the mech he was working on.

The two brothers split up, and Blades found himself at the berthside of a large green mech. Half his side was torn off, a leg was missing, though thankfully it was laid on a table by the berth, and his helm looked like something had smashed into it. Hard. Blades frowned, expression grim, and his fingers transformed to begin sealing up leaking energon lines and binding the ends of sparking wires. He got to work.

——————————

Over a cycle passed before Blades and First Aid stumbled out of the medbay. They were exhausted, but there was a sense of accomplishment sweeping back and forth across both their sparks. It had been difficult, but not a single mech had died that orn. Every single one of the Wreckers would live and would fully recover. At the end of the whole ordeal, Blades had been about to collapse when Ratchet clapped him on the shoulder and gruffly told him to return to the medbay to further his training. He’d said that it was up to Blades himself if he wanted to become a fully licensed medic like First Aid was training to be, but even if not Ratchet intended to expand on his skills in some regard because medics were precious few in the War and Blades having those skills could prove invaluable. The motorcycle had agreed, though he wasn’t very sold on becoming a fully licensed medic. Still, he did intend to return and learn as much as he could.

Outside the medbay, Blades came to a stop when he saw his team gathered. He blinked, and it only took a klik for him to understand what was going on. He turned to his brother, nudging him with his shoulder. “Head back to our room, ‘Aid. You need rest. I’ll be right there.”

First Aid turned his too-bright visor on him, and Blades knew his optics were wide underneath it. “But-“

“I’m coming back. I promise. I won’t leave you again.” he cut in gently. “I’ll keep the bond open. You’ll be able to feel me, don’t worry.”

There was a pause, then First Aid hugged him tightly. “Alright. Just come back soon. You need rest too.”

Blades wrapped his arms around his little brother. “Love you too.” he mumbled, and then First Aid was pulling away and trudging down the hall.

Blades turned to his team, and they walked to the hangar bay where the Sigma was being kept. They arranged themselves on some crates, before Heatwave spoke up.

“Here’s the deal. I talked to Optimus Prime about our options. One: We stay here and join the Autobots. If we do this, we’d have to go through training and be prepared to fight in a battlefield in the future. I told him we have some combat training, since the Rescue Force knew some missions might be dangerous and require Teams to fight to pull off the rescue. He said we’d be evaluated to determine where we’re at and then have our abilities expanded on from there.”

Blades was silent for a moment, considering. That seemed fair. It was the option he’d already intended to choose, but hearing it all laid out still helped. Chase was speculative, he could tell. Boulder was the most reluctant.

“But we’re Rescue Bots. We save lives, not destroy them.” he pointed out softly.

Heatwave nodded. “I did say that to Optimus. He said we have another option. We can take the Sigma once it’s upgraded and he’ll point us in the direction of a more hidden Neutral settlement. We’ll be able to stay out of the War so long as we don’t catch Decepticon attention, and we could even operate as a Rescue Team on a limited scale on the settlement.” he explained. “The third option was we can take the Sigma and take our chances on our own, though Optimus said he’d give us basic supplies and information to help.”

Chase hummed. “I must admit, I find myself leaning towards the first option. Our duty is to serve and protect, that much is true, but we can still save lives if we remain here. Perhaps, depending on where and how we contribute, we might do even more good here than anywhere else.”

Heatwave nodded. “That’s what I said. I think I’d like to stay, though if you all prefer to go then I’m with you. As far as I’m concerned, we’re all in this together.”

Boulder frowned. “I don’t really want to fight anyone. I don’t know if I even could offline another bot.”

“You may be able to avoid that.” Chase offered. “I was told by Prowl that there are some members of the Autobots who rarely face combat. The medics for example, often remain behind at base, but even in the event they are on the battlefield it is always very far back and out of the fight. The scientists and engineers, too, do not often see the battlefield, and spend most of their time away from it. Even more so than the medics, from what I was told.” he hummed. “Of course, all those bots are required to be able to fight at the same level as a standard combatant, simply so they would be able to defend themselves if they are attacked, but they are not encouraged to join the fight themselves. They contribute more by not being active combatants.” he reported.

Boulder blinked, looking contemplative. “I guess that would be okay, and you do have a point. We have useful skills, we can probably help more by staying than by leaving.”

Heatwave and Chase both made noises of agreement, and Blades sighed in relief. “Good, because I’m staying, even if you do go.”

Three helms snapped to him. “Blades?” Chase asked.

“I’m not leaving my brothers. Not again. They already spent mega-cycles thinking I was dead, I can’t do it to them again.” he said softly.

Heatwave was silent for a klik. “So you really are gestalt? Prime told us about you and your brothers.” he said.

Blades nodded. “Yeah.” he said softly. “I love you all, too. You’re also like brothers to me, and I don’t want to lose you. But my spark needs my gestalt. So I’m staying.” he said quietly.

“Won’t you be scared?” Boulder asked.

The motorcycle shot him a sardonic grin. “Of course. And Boulder, a joor ago I had to use a temporary medical patch to seal up a hole in a mech’s spark chamber. I already have at least a small idea of how bad this could all get. But…it’s the right thing to do. That’s what I think.”

They all looked at each other for a long moment, before gazes hardened with determination. Heatwave stood, and the others followed suit. “So we stay?” he confirmed.

“Affirmative.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“We stay.” Blades echoed firmly. He stepped forward, meeting the gazes of his team. “And we fight.”

Looks were exchanged, and then the other three nodded sharply. “We fight.” they said at the same time.

Blades felt resolve settle in his spark, and he straightened his spinal strut. This wasn’t how he would ever have wanted his life to go, but he couldn’t change anything. All he could do was adapt, learn, and rise above the challenge. As long as he had his team and his brothers, he wouldn’t back down.

It was time to fight.

———————————————————————————————————

And there you have it! Sigma-17 has joined the War. Blades has reunited with his brothers, so there is some good, but he’s also been given a taste of horrors of war. The Rescue Bots may have survived the massacre, but in a way Megatron still killed all the Rescue Teams. Only this time, it was because his war forced the last living one to hang up their badges.

This was fun to write! I enjoyed it. Blades had a little more confidence here because his brothers are at his back, so he’s not as nervous because he knows he has their support.

Still, I wonder how this would change the events of Prime, if it would at all? Maybe it wouldn’t, unless one of the Bots ended up on Team Prime in the future. *shrugs*

See you in the next one, folks!

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gogglor · 3 years ago

Text

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Tropey Tuesday

Over the past year my pandemic brain decided it would produce happy chemicals exclusively by reading and writing Stony fanfiction. On the advice of counsel, I decided to take my happy chemicals where I could get’em. And the result is that I’ve had the tremendous pleasure of reading some absolutely incredible works of art by some immensely talented people. And since it’s @cap-ironman RecWeek, I figured this is as good of an excuse as any to make some posts recommending my favs (and try to keep self-recs to a minimum, but I’m only human).

I skipped Multiverse Monday since I’m still not well-versed enough in the multiverse to talk about it with any kind of recommendational authority, but today is Tropey Tuesday, and so I would like to share some fics from my all-time-favorite, major-reason-I-bother-with-the-MCU, gets-me-every-time trope:

Found Family

And so, without further ado, here are some Found Family Stony fics that I simply adore.

Avengers Family Ficlets

Author: elwenyere

Word Count: 8,548

Summary: “You built a neural network that analyzes squash,” Bruce said flatly, “and you attached it to a laser.” A collection of short stories set in the extended Domestic Avengers Universe.

Why You Should Read It:

Thing number one that you should understand about me is that I would be perfectly happy with a story about body-less entities making funny quips at each other in a featureless void, and anything else is just a bonus. Elwenyere’s stories consistently get the banter down so unbelievably, ridiculously well that when you find out they also have heart, creativity, well-developed characters, and so much damn feeling in them, it feels like an embarrassment of riches.

Go read all of their stuff, please, but this one’s a great place to start. It’s got everything you could possibly want in a fic: over-competitive pumpkin carving, emotional hospital confessions, Christmas decorations that come to life and attack people, crab dip, Steve Rogers accidentally ruining Thanksgiving through the sheer power of his own snark, and most importantly, a bunch of human disasters that somehow make a beautiful family together.

Executive Party

Author: copperbadge

Word Count: 3,228

Summary: Tony's terrible December is suddenly looking up.

Why You Should Read It:

Copperbadge is another author where you should read everything they’ve put out there. They’ve got this phenomenally creative mind that manages to consistently draw out deeply human stories that can kinda catch you off-guard in the places they find touching moments. You might’ve heard of their very popular Foodieverse, which is an incredibly creative AU with the Avengers in the food service industry, but this is the one I come to whenever I’m looking to indulge in my favorite trope.

Tony’s looking forward to spending the night before SI breaks for Christmas doing paperwork. Steve gets the Avengers to have an impromptu video game Christmas Party in his office instead. Cb’s also got a gift for banter (I have a type when it comes to writers, ok?), and the little details like Steve’s carnage record on GTA, Natasha’s Russian appreciation for country music, and Steve’s SHIELD break-up mixtape make it just a goddamn delight to read.

patchwork people

Author: itsAllAvengers

Word Count: 28,247

Summary: It was a pretty well-known fact that Tony Stark had control issues.It was far less well-known why, though.

CW: Past abuse and non-con (not by main pairing)

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re the kind of person who regularly thinks to themself “You know what Tony Stark needs? More trauma,” then this is the fic for you.

Tony’s got some serious trust issues and PTSD thanks to some shitty, shitty exes. This is the story about how Tony learns to trust again, Avenger by Avenger, in his new Found Family. Come for the Whump, stay for the found family insomnia infomercial parties and Steve Rogers getting arrested for enacting some sweet, sweet karmic justice.

And now we get into a sub-genre of Found Family that is also a huge weakness of mine: Tony thinks he’s only tolerated instead of wanted, and his found family convinces him otherwise.

Some Things Shouldn’t Be a Chore

Author: scifigrl47

Word Count: 22,187

Summary: Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound. The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick. And some things shouldn't be a chore.

Why You Should Read It:

Honestly it feels a bit like cheating to recommend the first work in scifigrl47′s tremendously popular Toasterverse, since I’m pretty sure a lot of people who don’t even like or regularly read fanfiction have liked this one, even indirectly. Sci is so ludicrously good at building an engaging, creative, character-driven universe that this series is responsible for most of the fanon you know and love about MCU fanfics. Tony’s bot Butterfingers? Sci made him up for this story. Thor’s love of Pop Tarts? Clint the vent goblin? All sci. They’re just that damn good at world-building.

In this fic, the Avengers try out a chore chart. Hilarity and feels ensue. I don’t want to say anymore and risk spoiling it because if you’ve managed to get far enough in Stony fanfiction to read this post and haven’t yet read the Toasterverse, I want to keep the experience pristine for you to enjoy. Please read this. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll reserve a hypothetical genie wish to make this series the actually canon MCU (God knows I have).

Hold the Things You Wanna Say

Author: SailorChibi

Word Count: 6,316

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay. He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really. What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always. This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

CW: Abuse, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting

Why You Should Read It:

SailorChibi’s one of those authors I’ve been meaning to get around to reading all their stuff for, but it’s tricky when you have a short attention span and an author that is just so damn prolific. They’re a multi-fandom maven consistently putting out some really great stuff, and they’re absolutely worth checking out.

This story’s a real yank on the heartstrings, and as someone who can really identify with Tony’s fear of failing the people he cares about, the point in the story where he reaches his low is just unbelievably poignant. But the warmth and the wholesomeness of the end made my heart grow three sizes the day I read it. And the love that all these idiots have for each other is just so damn palpable in this story, it damn near made me cry.

Irreplaceable

Author: Orphan Account :(

Word Count: 4,952

Summary: There are obvious downsides to being the only member of the Avengers who is not a super soldier, a god, or a super assassin, and does not Hulk out when aggravated. The most obvious one is that when villains want bait, they've got a go-to guy. Tony already knew Mondays sucked. He did not need his opinion reinforced this way.

Why You Should Read It:

It’s such a bummer I can’t plunder this author’s other works because I love this one so much!

Tony gets kidnapped and says a lot of self-deprecating things that, unbeknownst to him, are projected on a live feed to the Avengers. They rescue him and have some opinions about how easily he could be replaced. This story’s got Tony hiding from feelings like an idiot, Steve manually carrying Tony somewhere the Avengers can say nice things about him, and a lot of feels.

That’s it for today! Tune in tomorrow for some AU recs!

#capimrecweek #stony #fanfiction #MCU #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #the avengers

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multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago

Note

your roommate hcs are so cute, can i request for naib, demi, tracy, andrew, kurt, patricia, and victor?

:0 holy crap yes! I’m so glad you enjoyed the roommate hcs!! Me and the other mods hope you enjoy these! Thank you for requesting :))

(i added melly because why not? lmao hope you don’t mind.)

Part 1!

Naib Subedar

This man deadass didn’t know you were living with him

Even when people told him about it, he wasn’t rlly paying attention and didn’t rlly care

Your stuff in his room? He thought it was his or someone just broke into his room and left it there

When he saw you on the toilet however, he just freaked out.

“Why the hell are you shitting in my room!?” “Your room? I’ve been living here for 2 months!”

Once he found out you lived with him, he made sure you knew what was his and what was yours

also, since he’s very protective of his things-- you being one of them-- he would totally get jealous if he caught you tallking to someone that wasn’t him.

he would probably give you the silent treatment and act like a pissy baby

He hates it when you touch his stuff

especially his photos, the photos were special to him because they were of him and his army friends.

You’d sometimes catch him looking at the photos with a longing in his eyes, it was highkey sad.

having you live with him meant lots and lots of training

he made sure you were always prepared for matches and that you don’t get downed early

when you got downed early however, He would scold you but he would still rescue you anyways because he’s soft

“You’re such an idiot, you’d better do better next time! Or else I’ll kick your ass.”

one time he got cocky while kiting because you were watching him

he forgot to turn on his elbow pads and face palmed into the wall.

“...You saw nothing.” He turned around, a bit woozy from hitting his head on a wall. He flipped the hunter off before stumbling wooshing away

When you first get to know naib, he’d probably come off as intimidating and menacing

but once you get to know him--the real him--, you start to understand that even though he may be tough on you, its because he wants you to be the best

he has good intentions

During matches he’d let you handle yourself and made sure you didn’t rely on him too much

One time you needed to shower but you ran out of your shampoo so you used his.

When he questioned you, you simply responded “What? You don’t need it anyways, you’re bald!”

He didn’t rescue you the next round.

should’ve seen that coming

though he forgives you when you braid his luscious long existent hair for him

Kurt Frank

The amount of times you almost stepped on this man is astronomical.

he would constantly be in his tiny form because he would lose a lot of his things

his tiny form helped him find his things easily

Though when you first moved in with him, you had no idea what his ability was

so when you first saw a tiny version of your roommate you thought he was just a weird doll

until you heard him say a tiny, “Hey can you move your ginORMOUS foot? You’re stepping on my book.”

You fucking screeched and took off your shoe to try and kill him

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

After he explained to you about his ability you calmed down a bit and spared this tiny man but only this time!

Frank loves books, he probably filled your shared rooms with stacks on stacks of books

You’d often see him tiny, waving at you while you’re decoding

Once you overhead Kurt arguing with First Officer over who was the rightful owner of some sort of treasure map

They fought for days,

kurt would constantly complain about it to you

turns out it was just a game on the back of a Cereal box.

sorry this is short like kurt

Tracy Reznik

Would be a little awkward at first, but the awkwardness slowly fades away when you both make bad jokes

she gives me childhood best friend vibes

Has her doll sitting in the corner of your shared room room, it’s lifeless eyes scare the living shit out of you in the dark you try not to make eye contact, afraid it’ll curse you or smth

if she was mad at you she would move the bot in a way that looked like it was flipping you off you off in your direction before you went to bed.

Always making little robot things that are super fun to play with

Loves sharing her things. Has no problem with it

you wanna wear her clothes? sure

you want to wear her underwear? evEN BETTER-

Pulling all nighters, trying to get her machines to work like how she wanted it to work.

Would live off of kraft Mac n cheese and junk food in the modern day

Pretty hyper, chugs pink monster energy drinks while pulling all nighters, also, in the modern day

would probably be a bruh girl

Her room is a mess, covered with blueprints and scrap metal

her room is practically a safety hazard

Sometimes she dresses her doll up a bit, putting wigs or her old clothes on it (which scares you half to death)

Once she made her doll dress up like her

and you almost went up to it to ask what it wanted for dinner.

Has a photo of her and her dad

You never wanted to bring it up, worried it might make her upset :(

Sometimes she’d feel really guilty about being downed in the first 30 seconds

please comfort her, she feels super bad

She always relies on you to rescue her

She gets really happy and thankful when you body block for her but she still gets a bit concerned when you do it randomly

“i wasn’t even kiting-” “Protecc the mecc.”

Demi Bourbon

Always out at the bar

Smells like alcohol constantly

tipsy 24/7

she’s never 100% sober

You have to hold her hair out of her face when she comes back to your shared room to hurl

Likes bringing back hard vodka or weird flavoured alcohols back for you guys to get wasted try together

Room is bit cluttered, but she doesn’t have much in her room since she’s always out in bars or matches

Usually latches onto you like a parasite when she’s drunk.

it gets a bit awkward when her face is a bit close to yours,

“Are we about to kiss right now-? BLeurghgrhgherrgh.”“...*audible sigh*”

You’d go to her expecting her to heal you like a normal person but no

instead she shoves dovlin down your throat

She likes to do your makeup, and always adds a matching beauty mark

unless you don’t wear makeup, then she’d ask you to do hers

always loves how she looks afterwards

more than sometimes demi would get into bar fights,

so you know she’s about to throw hands when she starts takes off her earrings-

10/10 would fight for you <3

She’s gives me cool wine aunt vibes

Probably a lesbian too (check out our Demi smut fic ;))

Or bi, idk

Just straightn’t

She’s really good at hyping you up, especially when you’re taking shots

“CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG-”

Andrew Kreiss

Would be very shy at first, opens up a little when you get to know him

Totally a night owl, can’t sleep at night from all the guilt and “what if’”s

if you see this baby awake at night, hug him, he really needs it

You’ve never seen the other side of his face

How does he see with hair in his eyes?

He’s albino, which is super dope

Sometime you fear he’s thinking about burying you

You always see him thwacking Luca with his shovel

Barely talks

Room is moderate

He doesn’t want you to find out too much about him

He may seem bland, but he loves sweet food

You’d bake him cookies and other sweets

He’d act as if he’s not embarrassed and brush it off

“Are you blushing?”“No, I-I’m sunburnt.” “On your face?” “....I stare into the hot red sun sometimes because it eases me.”

to keep his lie going, every time he catches you staring at him he would fry his eye balls by staring into the sun until you left

partially the reason why he can’t see well

When he’s not looking, you stare at him while he’s eating the stuff you made because he looks so happy :’)

One time you found him down in the dumps so you made him a cup of coffee, and when you handed it to him you said-

“Depresso espresso?”

*sniff* ”..are you oka-” “IM NOT CRYING, YOU ARE”

he actually cried

it was such a nice gesture(?), that he started ugly crying

You’d ask him if he wanted hugs during matches when you see him get stressed

He’d be flushed and kinda confused

hug... him? why tho lmao

he’d definitely agree tho, to be fair, with some hesitation

if y’all ever cuddled in bed, i feel like he’d be a little spoon

poor boy needs the comfort, he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be little spoon tho

he just wants to be close to you

Victor Grantz

You love playing with his dog, Wick

Super nice and polite, but a little guarded

The type to be too afraid to call people out when they do something wrong but would totally trash them in his head

You write him little letters everyday and leave them on his bed to make him happy :))

He’d a be a little spoon

Wick would always join you guys while cuddling

Kisses would be soft and gentle

Usually sends you the first letter in matches

Loves to cuddle

He bb 🥰

You always get him a birthday present AND a Christmas present

You also get a gift for Wick

He loves giving you surprise hugs

Likes to read with you while cuddling

Literally a cinnamon roll

Once he was eating a cinnamon roll

And you whispered

“C a n n i b a l i s m .”

He was very confused

and kind of scared- were you going to eat him?

Patricia Dorval

Room always smells like herbs

She could literally smoke weed and you’d think it’s some magical healing herb

it magically makes you feel better

Always there to stun the hunter when you’re ballooned

The mature one

Her room is organized, with boxes labeling what herbs and magic stuff that are in them

You were cooking dinner for the day and you accidentally used one of her fancy herbs in your soup

She didn’t realize until she tried the soup

She wasn’t mad just disappointed

She lectured you on how you shouldn’t touch her stuff or use it for cooking

Gotta admit tho, the soup was pretty good

she acts like the mom everyone wishes they had

totally the type to be like, “dude we should think this through.” before doing something risky

and then five seconds later, “cowABUNGA MY DUDES”

one time she caught kreacher leaving the mens washroom without washing his hands

seeing as she was the mother of this manor, she had to protect her children from diseases

so she yeeted her monkey skull at kreachers head, cleanly knocking him out

and everybody cheered.

Melly Plinius

When you heard melly was going to be your roomie, you couldn’t have been more excited.

you finally had a victim for the many insect pick up lines!

So you decided to make some good first impressions by waiting for her in your room.

so when she arrived to your room and greeted you, you happily greeted her back, and slipped in the pick up line.

“Hello, my name is Melly. I believe I will be your ro-?”“Yeah nice to meet you too, say, what do bees make?”

She kinda thought you were a bit rude so much for first impressions

“...Erm, honey?” she replied hesitantly

“YES DEAR?”

... okay maybe you weren’t thaaaat bad.

after that she kind of developed a teensy crush on you

so it was hard living with you because of her crush, since she was constantly flustered

you loved her reactions, she constantly got red.

it was funny watching her try to keep her cool and fail.

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westiec · 4 years ago

Note

fic I want to see: five futures Tony/Rhodey/Pepper deserved but never got

Hey there friend! I'm going to take advantage of the @goodintentionswipfest to finally answer this ask by posting what exists of the fic I totally never finished writing you for this prompt before I burned out real hard on writing last year. Hope you get a little bit of fun out of what's here. <3

1 - MIT meet, 100% less drama

Tony meets James-call-me-Rhodey Rhodes at MIT. In other universes, they were on campus at the same time, but the whiz kid playboy tearing up the mech-e department and local bar scene seldom crossed paths with the steady grad student getting a masters in aircraft design courtesy of the Air Force.

In this one, they are inseparable.

Rhodey's got a way of following his train of thought that Tony's never encountered, and his intuitive understanding of flying machines outstrips Tony's own. (Tony is determined to catch up, but Rhodey never makes him feel bad for having to. Entirely unlike Howard, he thinks, and feels disloyal for the thought.) They bounce ideas off each other and make each other sharper, better, and it's a feeling of belonging Tony never expected to find. When they build an AI - a Turing-complete AI!! - Tony jokes about them becoming parents without ever going on a date, and the look of wistful fondness on Rhodey's face is all the encouragement he needs to finally ask him on one.

After graduation, Tony owes years to SI and Rhodey owes years to Uncle Sam, but they keep in close touch, with plans to go into business for themselves one day. Times being what they are, no one asks, and no one tells, but he and Rhodey both know that the much publicized dates with various eligible ladies are for maintaining appearances and nothing that will really come between them.

When Howard and Maria die, Rhodey must cash in every favor he has to get the leave, but he's there for the funeral. Tony is pretty sure his steadfast support is the only reason he could stand to be sober those first couple weeks. Stark men are supposed to be made of iron, but Rhodey's always been the one with a core of steel.

Rhodey never trusts Obie much, and - continued relationship with Tony notwithstanding - Rhodey is an impeccable judge of character. A few years later, an internal audit proves his instincts right when Stane is caught laundering company assets to sell weapons on the black market. Terrified at the thought of his weapons in the wrong hands, Tony quietly begins to diversify SI's business model - clean energy, healthcare, [THIRD THING] - things that can build the world up instead of tear it down.

Eventually Tony is able to hire Rhodey away from the military to be his chief airframe designer and personal test pilot. They move out to California to oversee the autonomous search-and-rescue drones they're developing, and set up in a preposterous mansion overlooking the ocean in Malibu, with their ever growing family of bots and JARVIS to make the huge place feel full.

Despite having no qualms shout their personal AI butler and robotic lab assistants, Rhodey calls him bougie when Tony brings on a driver, Harold-call-me-Happy Hogan, and a personal assistant, one Ms. Virginia Potts. Happy's a solid driver and a cheerful guy, but Ms. Potts is a downright revelation. She's the second person he's met now who has no trouble keeping up with his mile-a-minute mind, and though her competencies lie along a different line than his or Rhodey's, he quickly realizes they are no less remarkable. He also plain likes her in an easy way he so seldom clicks with people. Tony might be a little bit smitten.

After a while he realizes Ms. Potts-call-me-Pepper (and seriously, did Tony miss a memo on alliterative nicknames?) seems smitten too, though not with him. Rhodey's no longer active duty, but old habits of discretion die hard, so she has no way of knowing when she strikes up a flirtation with the airman that he and her boss are more than just business partners. Rhodey's flustered, and Pepper's embarrassed, but Tony's always had a big heart, and he loves nothing quite so much as making the people he cares about happy. He can see the way his honeybear smiles when she's around, and it's obvious how much she lights up with him, and he's a genius, right, but he doesn't need to be to see that they'd work. So he tells them to go for it, as long as Pepper doesn't mind sharing and Rhodey doesn't mind being shared, and they look at him like he's grown a second head because what they want is all of them together.

They totally work.

2 - IM1, BUT HAPPIER?

They meet when Lt. Rhodes is assigned the Air Force liason to Stark Industries. Warned in advance, Rhodey was expecting brash, crass, and totally out of control, but what he found in Stark, Jr. was someone with a passion for machines and an excitement for invention unlike anyone he's ever met. When they realize they'd been on campus at the same time, Tony (“please, Mr. Stark was my father”) declares them the Brass Rat Pack, which makes him roll his eyes, but doesn't make a Sammy Davis, Jr. joke, which bumps him up a couple more points in Rhodey's estimation.

3 - IM2 BUT WITH SOME DAMN COMMUNICATION

Rhodey was always going to get a suit. Tony's best friend, the best pilot he knows, AND one of the few people in military he actually still trusts? Of course. He offered Pepper one too, but he seemed to expect her to turn him down, because then he offered her the position of CEO. Insisted, really.

So Pepper becomes the head of Stark Industries while Tony and Rhodey become Iron Man and War Machine. The military brass doesn't love having one of those suits and all of their secrets in the hands and head, respectively, of such an unpredictable element, but knowing that Colonel Rhodes is liasing most of his activities goes a long way toward quieting the grumbles. The men's joint testimony on just how far off any imitators, foreign or domestic, are from duplicating the technology convinces Congress that Team Iron Man's op-sec, while unorthodox, is effective.

Rhodey takes some well deserved R&R and joins Tony and Pepper in Monaco. It's new still, this thing between them all, but it's good.

4 - POST-IM2

AVENGERS FAM DAMMIT

Aliens invade New York, and Rhodey is so glad he stole that damn suit.

5 - POST-IM3

IN WHICH WE AVOID CIVIL WAR

RESCUE HAPPENS

Rogers and Romanoff bring down SHIELD, and Pepper is horrified to realize how close she came to being murdered by the state. After Killian, after Extremis, she knows she could be considered a threat, but seeing her name, and Tony's, and Rhodey's, on the kill list in the data dump is chilling.

+1 - After Everyone Lives

"Meguna Petunia Stark-Potts-Rhodes, out of the lab and inside for dinner!"

Morgan laughed. "Not my name, Dad - and anyway, wouldn't it be Potts-Rhodes-Stark, alphabetically?"

"You know, you'd think that, but your pops actually called dibs on the anchor leg years ago…"

"A relay's got four legs, Dad."

"What did I ever do to deserve a jock for a daughter? Tell you what, find us a Q who doesn't run screaming, and we'll consider it."

"What are we considering, Tony?"

"Morgan thinks our polycule needs to be a quadrilateral, apparently, and I'm blaming the track team. I've told her we're only considering candidates with Q last names; we're so close to a straight."

"Tony, you've never been close to straight in your life."

Mom gestures at the two bickering and pleads, "Just not another guy, please, darling, I'm outnumbered already."

"I dunno, you usually like tha-"

"Tony!" Mom and Pops shoot him identical stern looks.

Family. She wouldn't want it any other way.

If anyone made it this far, thanks for reading! @allofthefeelings I'm sorry the full fic never made its way out of my brain, but thank you for the prompt anyway! And thanks again to the Good Intentions WIP Fest!

#good intentions wipfest #bring out your dead #tony/rhodey/pepper #tony stark #james rhodes #pepper potts #westie writes

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writeyouin · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! I was reading some of your transformers x reader and i enjoyed them way too much, i wondering if i could please request some poly combaticons x reader fluffiness??

Poly-Combaticons X Reader - Hostage

A/N – Yoga is harder than I thought. Man, I am like the least flexible person ever.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Swindle vented air loudly through his systems, sighing boredly. Just like the other Combaticons, he was tired of being left behind on missions. It was almost like Megatron didn’t trust them, which was crazy, because it was he who had ordered their rescue from imprisonment, right? At least, that’s what he had told them on Cybertron after he had reprogrammed them to only follow his orders; none of the Combaticons would ever know any different.

“Where’s Vortex?” He asked, hoping that the insane bot might be good for a laugh.

“Probably off causing trouble,” Blast Off replied, checking himself out in the shiniest part of the chrome wall.

Onslaught hummed, making some notes after examining a slide under the microscope, “As long as I have some peace to finish my experiments for Lord Megatron, does it really matter where Vortex is?”

“GUYS, GUYS,” Vortex called out excitedly, running in. “YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!”

Onslaught cursed his luck, knowing he would never finish his project with Vortex yelling like that.

“WHAT IS IT?!” Brawl roared huffily, eager to pick a fight with just about anyone that happened to be nearby, if it would distract him from his boredom.

“ORDERS FROM MEGATRON. GOOD ONES. REALLY, REALLY GOOD ONES. ALMOST AS GOOD AS BEING ATTACKED.”

None of them really understood why Vortex loved surprise attacks so much, but they at least understood his frame of reference for excitement.

“Megatron’s back?” Onslaught asked, thinking of his unfinished project.

“NO, BUT HE SENT LASERBEAK BACK WITH SOME ORDERS.”

“What’ve you got for us?” Swindle asked, already coming up with a scam that would make the others do his work for him if he didn’t like the job.

“There’s a human hostage in the holding cells. Megatron said we must not let the Autobots take it back at any cost.”

“A human?” Blast Off actually managed to look away from his reflection for a while. “That could be interesting, I suppose.”

“UGH!” Brawl exclaimed exasperatedly. “WHAT GOOD IS A HOSTAGE THAT YOU CAN’T FIGHT. I WANT A REALLY GOOD SCRAP.”

“Come on,” Onslaught said, leading the way to the holding cells; at the very least, he might get some interesting research done on human physiology and behaviour. At Onslaught’s word, they all headed down to see the prisoner, hoping to alleviate some boredom, if nothing else.

None of them knew what to expect since you were the first human they had seen outside of TV. As such, once they all got to the door, it was decided they shouldn’t alert you to their presence until they were sure of how best to guard you; that decision greatly annoyed Brawl who never hid from anything.

“Wow…” Blast Off whispered, “(S)he looks so…sad.”

The five bots fell silent, frowning as they each thought about their millions of years imprisoned with no hope of escape; it was torturous. No doubt, you were also suffering with nobody to talk to and no stimulus to keep you entertained. At least when the Combaticons were bored, they had each other to talk to; this just seemed cruel. Even Brawl was uncharacteristically quiet, thinking about the painful years of solitude in which nobody even spared him a thought.

Vortex stayed as quiet as he could for as long as he could, totalling a record time of two minutes and ten seconds of silence. After that, he bounced on into the room, “Hey human, how are you? Are you bored? I bet you’re bored; I would be bored in there.”

Onslaught and Blast Off face-palmed, while Swindle watched snickering, and Brawl rolled his optics at his team-mate’s stupidity.

You stood up upon seeing the Decepticon enter the room. He was one you had never seen before on any of your missions with the Autobots and you wondered what his personality was like compared to the other Decepticons.

“Hello,” You greeted openly.

“Hey,” Vortex beamed, surprised you weren’t like the other humans the Decepticons had discussed in front of the Combaticons; he had only ever heard Starscream saying how they were frightened of everything, including their own shadows.

“Are you new?” You asked, your curiosity outweighing your sense of danger as it always did. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Me, new? That’s crazy,” Vortex guffawed. “I’m super old. You’re the new one.”

You chuckled, “Yes, I guess I am.”

“GUYS, GET IN HERE, IT’S FRIENDLY, AND FUNNY TOO.”

You watched the door as three other bots sheepishly made their way in, the fourth stomped in grumpily, making sure to make a lot of noise.

“Oh, are these your friends?”

It was Onslaught who answered, “We’re his team.”

“Yeah,” Blast Off laughed, “I’m the handsome one.”

You smiled, noticing they weren’t like the other Decepticons; at least these five talked to you. “And do you have a name or am I stuck calling you handsome?”

“I’m Blast Off, our fearless leader here is called Onslaught. This glitch-head is Vortex,” Vortex pointed to himself proudly, despite the insult. “This is-”

“I’m Swindle,” The bot replied, winking at you. “You need something, you come to me first. I can talk my way outta anything and everything.”

“And last but not least is Brawl.”

“AND I’M OUTTA HERE,” Brawl huffed, still wanting something to fight.

“Ah,” You smiled knowingly.

“WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” Brawl demanded, hitting the bars of your cage.

“Hey, I meant nothing bad by it. I could just tell by your cool attitude that you’re the strong one of the group. Man, I bet you could take anyone in a fight.”

“Heh,” Brawl guffawed bashfully. “If you think I look strong now, you should see my alt-mode.” With that he transformed into a tank, showing off his bulk and strength by blasting a hole in the ceiling.

You couldn’t help but smiling at the display Brawl put on just for you. Soon enough, all the Combaticons were competing for your attention, turning into their various alt-modes and asking whose was best. Even the level-headed Onslaught couldn’t help admiring your tactful answers as you said what you liked best about each member of his unit, including himself.

There was no doubt that the five would have stayed and talked your ears off forever, had you not eventually fallen asleep. Watching you slumber so peacefully, sure they had put the smile on your face, each of the Combaticons felt joy warm their cores. In just one day you had become so precious to them and all because you listened to them more than any other Cybertronian ever had.

“Let us all admit that we are feeling the same thing for this organic,” Onslaught whispered, resting his helm against the bars of your cage.

The other bots murmured in agreement.

“Then let’s bust her out,” Brawl growled. “We have more than enough firepower to do it.”

“Yeah,” Blast Off agreed, “And nobody could look as good doing it as we could.”

Vortex started shaking excitedly, “Oooh, I sense a prison break coming on, just like the human movie, Impossible Mission.”

“It was Mission Impossible, you dolt.”

Onslaught sighed, “You’re forgetting that we’ve got direct orders from Megatron to make sure (s)he doesn’t escape.”

“Do we though?” Swindle asked mischievously. “As far as I’m aware, our orders were to ‘make sure the Autobots don’t take her at any cost.’ I don’t see any Autobots here, do you?”

Onslaught considered that momentarily; Swindle really could find a loophole in anything. “Well…as long as we are all in agreement.”

As if in response, the team started their combined transformation into Bruticus, leaving room for Onslaught to join in. He did so happily, feeling the freedom and power that came with combining.

“Bruticus rescue (Y/N),” The now giant bot said monosyllabically. “(Y/N) belongs to Bruticus now.”

You had long since gotten over the shock of being kidnapped for the second time that day; it helped that your new-found captor was actually the five Combaticons you had met earlier that night. All the same, you weren’t sure what was going to happen next and it seemed that Bruticus didn’t either.

“So,” You wondered how to broach your next question, “Where do we go from here?”

Bruticus shrugged his shoulders, then lowered his servo to let you down onto the beach shore. “Bruticus don’t know. What human want to do?”

“I- Hmm… I’d like to thank you for the heroic rescue.”

Bruticus’ fans started blasting in what you had come to know as a Cybertronian blush.

“And I would like to invite you to come and visit me in my home whenever you want… even though we’re really far away from it right now.”

“Not far for Bruticus. I can take you home right now.”

“Really?” You half laughed. “You would do that for me?”

“Yes, Bruticus like new friend.”

You weren’t sure how to react to that. To be perfectly honest, you were wondering exactly what you had said or done to make the Combaticons like you so quickly. If you could make the other Decepticons like you just as much then maybe you could make life a lot easier for the Autobots in the process. Either way, you were glad you weren’t a hostage anymore, though you still had no idea quite how enamoured the Combaticons had become with you in just one night. Humans had a word for how the Combaticons felt about you; they were smitten.

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thewildwaffle · 4 years ago

Text

Kidnapped Rival

So I’ve posted this Transformers au fic on Ao3 and have been writing it since Feb of last year ever since I saw an anonymous post on @zenxenophilia‘s blog. I finally finished it, over a year and a half later.

You can read it here on Ao3, and I’ll also post the story here

Original post - submitted to Zenxenophilia on tumblr by anonymous: ***** ***** ***** Imagine a human on Optimus’ team. Optimus practically treats them like a sparkling, Ratchet is their grandpa and Bee and Arcee are like siblings. This human wants to fight in the war. For earth, for humans, for their family. Of course, Cybertron’s atmosphere is dangerous to humans making it difficult for the human to get involved. After begging and pleading to Optimus the human is put under extensive training with self defense and handling a weapon (thanks to Bee and Arcee). The human is outfitted with a mech suit disguised as a cybertronian. Even inside the mech the human has an armored space suit along with a blaster that can filter oxygen out of Cybertron's atmosphere just in case the mech were to break. It doesn’t take long for the human to climb the ranks(being the ‘child’ of Optimus helps a lot). The human uses a Cybertronian persona. Later they go out to the Cybertronian battlefields. This is where they meet Deadlock, Megatron’s maddog, the one responsible for so many deaths to the human’s friends. The Human quickly becomes Deadlocks rival, able to counter all his attacks and save Autobots from his clutches. After a while Deadlock develops a strange liking to the 'mech’, he seems to almost enjoy seeing them on the battlefield. One fateful day the Human and Deadlock run into each other on the battlefield, it’s just the two of them. Deadlock has trained a lot more after the first few encounters with the 'mech’ and the 'mech’ sadly couldn’t keep up, however, it didn’t stop them from doing a number on Deadlock. Deadlock is smart, he makes sure to damage the mech’s legs to most so they can’t run anywhere. The one thing that he enjoys about fighting the 'mech’ is that they don’t seem to feel pain. The mech can no longer stand up or move, it’s stuck. Deadlock oddly enough doesn’t kill them.

“You would make a great Decepticon”. … W-What? Was that an offer? Oh hell no! The Human would never join this monster after all he’s done to their friends! The Human gets out of their mech, much to Deadlocks surprise. What a lovely twist! The Human uses their blaster to keep damaging Deadlock, ducking for cover. Even out of their mech they were a threat to any Cybertronian, however, they weren’t as fast as one. Deadlock didn’t use his weapons, that would make it too easy, instead, he scoops the Human up ignoring the humans screams. He takes away their weapons and destroys their commlink. “Well well well. Who would have known? This explains a lot…” Deadlock forces the human to look up at him. His little obsession, his rival, was an organic… and a pretty cute one too!(Though he’ll never admit it) The Human struggles in his grip. “Now now. I don’t think you should do that” His grip tightens around the Human. 'It would be a shame if your armor were t’ break…’ the human stiffens, without the armor they would suffocate. “Heh.. I think I’m gonna keep you for a long while friend…” Deadlock keeps his rival on him at all times at the Decepticon base. No one is allowed to touch them but him. Most Decepticons see the Human as a living trophy to Deadlock, a pet, not knowing of Deadlock’s obsessive desires. Megatron is quite surprised by Deadlock's new pet. Megatron knew the mech that the human-piloted was Optimus’ favorite bot, not only would the Human be a good bargaining chip, but they probably know all the Autobots' little secrets. Megatron will let Deadlock do whatever he wants to do with the Human for now, after all, he earned it. Deadlock was happy with this. Meanwhile back at the Autobot base, Optimus is filled with grief. His precious human, his child, gone without a trace. He didn’t know if they were dead or not, Optimus sends out search parties for them, he regrets letting them in this war, they were too young. Ratchet is constantly checking for signals in his free time, for any sign that they were alive. Bumblebee goes quiet for a long time. He knows his sibling HAS to be alive! They have to be! They don’t die easily. He tries scout on more missions so he can find them. Arcee is filled with rage. That was her precious little sibling. Her anger is taken out on the battlefield. She questions any con she can for a sign of the human. She’s always training always, looking, always holding back her grief and the ideas that her sibling could be dead or tortured. No one has ever seen her like this. The human's disappearance is hard on everyone. That kid would constantly befriend and check up with everyone they saw, they were kind, helpful, and eager to learn. It’s dull without them at the base. They’re not there to tell Prowl to stop overworking himself. They aren’t there to help Wheeljack or Percy with their experiments. They aren’t there to jam out with Jazz or Blaster or to talk to and check up with everyone in the base. No one to listen to Ironhide's or Kup's stories. No one to complement Sunstreaker and play with Sideswipe. Everyone is heartbroken. This base isn’t a base without the kid running around. They can only hope that the human is still alive. The Decepticon base is another story. The human is filled with information about the Autobots, with the human on their side the war is in the bag. They have coordinates and information on practically every bot in the base and maybe… with a bit of mnemosurgey they could be an excellent Decepticon. The human is fine. They’re patient. They’re smart, they know how to play their cards, (Perceptor and Wheeljack taught them) they just have to play along with Deadlock and the cons for now. Hopefully, the Human can escape or pray that Optimus will find them. And hopefully, Deadlock has mercy on them.

***** ****** *****

My adding to the story:

The room was filtered, much like the human’s armored spacesuit had been. The entire Decepticon base was, not that the human had spent much time outside their room. When they did leave the room, it was for “questioning.” And it was always accompanied by Deadlock. Usually being carried by Deadlock. Actually, always carried by Deadlock. He said it was because he didn't want his human to get lost or crushed under the peds of a careless con. Really, it was to feel their rival squirm in his tight grip. Megatron had been present for a few of the first interrogations, but other duties or battles made his presence less and less frequent, which was fine by the human. As far as they were concerned, there were more than enough Decepticons around as it was. Using techniques Wheeljack had taught them, they “gave up” the info the cons wanted, just not all of it. It was just enough to keep the Decepticons from getting suspicious, get them to believe that the information that they pulled from Deadlock’s new pet was indeed genuine, but not enough info, they hoped, to really cause too much damage to the Autobots. The human needed to find a way out of this nightmare before the Decepticons caught on to what they were doing. Or before they gave up info that could actually do damage to the Autobots. It was getting harder and harder to keep the vital info they held away from their more sadistic interrogators.

The human loses track of time since being captured. Deadlock had taken their armored space suit soon after bringing them here. “No need for it here, little friend.” His sinister smile always made the human uneasy, but he just laughed at their rival’s defiant expression, putting the suit away in his subspace and leaving for another mission, making sure to lock the door behind him. When the human had time alone in the room, they scoured every inch for some means of escape. The vents looked promising, but getting to them would be difficult, even if they scaled the height of the berth or the desk, they were too short to reach. They need a better plan.

Meanwhile, the searches Optimus organized finally turned up something. If it's a good something or not has yet to be decided. It was Bumblebee who found it- the mech suit the human had been piloting when they went missing. He brought it back to base and everyone nearly lost their minds! The human, their human, without their protective mech suit?! Their armor they wore underneath was not found though, did that mean they had it and were still alive? The mech was severely damaged, they must have tried to run on foot and been captured. But by whom? And were they still alive now? Hopefully Perceptor would be able to find out something from the damaged mech to get some clue to the human’s location.

For the human, however, thoughts of being rescued seemed to be little more than a hopeful wish. Deadlock did his best to make sure that any such wish seemed less and less likely. “They’ll never find you,” he tells them. “They've given up looking for you long ago.” Or “Even if they did find out you were still alive, what makes you think they'll want you after what you've done? It was your information that lead us to victory in the Cronus Plains. How many of them did we kill because of you?” Deadlock took great pleasure in seeing his rival’s reaction to this. He smiled, knowing he could break his once-mortal-enemy both mentally as well as physically. Lifting their chin with one sharp finger he cooed, “I told you before, you'd make a good Decepticon. It seems I was right.” He moves closer, a dangerous, hungry gleam flashed in his optics. As Deadlock took a step forward, the human took two steps back. Deadlock chuckled and used mass-displacement to shrink down to just taller than the human. The human dodges his reach and turns and runs towards the berth to hide. Such a tactic seemed childish, and was doomed to fail, but it was better than doing nothing, it was some show of resistance. Deadlock was a lot… “touchier”... when he was this size, simply because it was easier to be so when the risk of crushing the object of his obsession was so much lessened. He grabbed the human by the shoulders and pulled them closer to him. “You're tense,” he murmurs, running one servo down their back. “Let me put you more at ease, my pet.” While still holding them so they couldn't get away, Deadlock stroked and prodded, massaging knots in their back and expertly melted the struggling human in his grasp. The human felt both frustrated by how effectively they'd been incapacitated, and blissfully relaxed as the tension they'd been carrying fell away. With what mental capacities they had left, the human willed themselves to make sure they made no moans or hums that would betray their pleasure to the Decepticon. After few minutes, Deadlock’s servos paused. He turned the human around to face him, holding them close and tight to his chassis. “There now, better?” One servo traveled down the small of the human’s back. The human didn't respond. Oh they wished they could be anywhere but here! They thought of the Autobot base, of their friends, of the bots that had become their family. Could what Deadlock said earlier be true? Had they given up looking for them? Did they blame them for giving up information? They must. The human sure did. As much as they tried to stop it from happening, the human let out a sob. Just the one, but it was one too many.

“There, there, none of that now,” rumbled Deadlock, “What's there to cry about? I've kept you alive. I've taken care of you. I will make sure no one dares harm you. You're one of us now.” He paused, his red optics glowing brighter. “You're mine.” He leaned forward, crushing his lips into the human’s. So taken by surprise, the human tried yelling out, which only made Deadlock squeeze them tighter in his arms, his glossa filling their opened mouth. The human struggled against his grip, but it was quickly obvious that they weren't going anywhere. As Deadlock’s servos traveled across their body, an idea of a plan came into their mind. It was a dangerous idea. It was an incredibly stupid idea, but maybe it was stupid enough to work. Instead of fighting against him, the human pushed into the kiss. Slowly, carefully, they loosed one arm and reached around to Deadlock’s neck, stroking the sensitive cables. He shivered delightedly as his cooling fans kicked on. After another moment, the human slid their other hand slowly up his chassis to where they'd seen their space suit stored away before. Lights all across Deadlock's body flickered. He reached one arm out to the berth to try to lift them both up onto it.

It was quick, before Deadlock could process what happened, the human pulled themselves away from him, opened his subspace compartment, yanked their suit out, and with one steady movement they had learned from Arcee, wrenched his arm behind his back and pinned him face down into the ground. Hard into the ground. They hoped that would be enough to keep their captor stunned long enough to get a good head start. They jumped up and ran to the door. If they could make it to the hallway and find a hiding spot, they could get their suit on and sneak out of the Decepticon base. They'd be free! The door was not locked, but it was closed and very heavy. They had only managed to crack it open when Deadlock began picking himself up off of the floor. Well, there went their head start. The human gave the door one last shove with their shoulder and started squeezing through. They were just about out when the door completely opened, sending them tumbling to the floor. Deadlock, now returned to his full size, reached down, scooped them up, and tossed them back into the room, sending them rolling across the floor. The door shut again with a loud metallic thud, followed by a click indicating that it was now locked. “I must admit, you're very good.” Deadlock's voice was dangerously calm, he almost seemed amused. “I've always known you were, the first time I saw you on the battlefield, I found you to be exceptional. A challenge for me after so many boring victories. Where was that again- our first? It's been a while, hasn't it?” He picked up the human again, who groaned at the movement of their bruised body. “Was… it was just outside... Simfur,” the human gasped, still trying to catch their breath after having it knocked out of them by the throw. “I must say... your hand-to-hand combat... hasn't improved much since then. I don't even need my mech suit to take you.” Now was certainly not the best time to sass-mouth a psychopathic killer robot, but the human was beyond caring. Deadlock only chuckled and held them close, pinning them to him so they couldn't move. “That may be. I've found I've always done well enough with my weapons though.” He began stroking the human's back absent-mindedly as he sat down on the berth. “Perhaps with a bit of mnemosurgery, you'd be more willing to stick around and give me some pointers.” The human's voice was a bit muddled y Deadlock's hold, but they said something along the lines of “like hell I will.” Deadlock mused to himself about future days with his then-compliant human, smiling at all the implications that shadowplay could bring. “It will be interesting to see how well mnemosurgery works on an organic, but I'm sure it will do wonders.” With the adrenaline of their failed escape attempt fading, and warm living metal surrounding them, the human felt exhaustion creeping in. Before they completely slipped away, they thought of Optimus and for a moment, they were back at the base, surrounded by the Autobots. Would they ever train with Bumblebee and Arcee again? Would they ever help Sunstreaker feed Bob again? Ever listen to another story from Ironhide, only to be interrupted by Kupp who told them ’how it really happened?’ They hoped so. They hoped the Autobots still wanted them back. “I’m sorry” they muttered as sleep finally overtook them.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Deadlock had been watching intently from the moment the mnemosurgeon entered the room. He was tense and anxious about what was going to happen, but inwardly giddy at the prospects a successful outcome could bring. Thinking back, it had been rather easy to convince Lord Megatron about going through with the procedure. Granted, Deadlock had kept all reasoning points to how it could help scrape out any remaining info the human had been resiliently holding back, further the Decepticon cause, and provide a severe blow to Optimus and his Autobots when they found out what had happened to their small, spunky, cute, soft… Deadlock shook his head ever so slightly. His mind was wandering again. It did that fairly often when he thought of his little rival. He watched as the mnemosurgeon inserted his needles to the base of their head. It was only two needles, and they couldn't be fully extended. As had been explained to him, mnemosurgeon was possible on organic life, but the process was different, and the results, varied. Instead of direct manipulation of memories as without on a cybertronian, organic life had to be done indirectly, usually through the twists and turns of emotions. Brains and processors, while shockingly similar, had their own operating systems, so to speak. The translation of mnemosurgery to an organic brain was difficult. It had been difficult to find someone capable of doing such a feat. Harder still, one willing to do it for him. Just in case the difficult and dangerous operation went awry, few wanted to run the risk of telling Deadlock they'd turned his little pet into a braindead bag of flesh. But he'd found one. A small lanky bot who went by the name Trepan. He seemed confident in his abilities and didn't even bat an optic when Deadlock added a bit more to his task. He was to not only seek out info, as he had told Megatron the purpose of this was, but he also wanted a few alterations. Nothing big, just a nudge, really. His little human, his little rival was still fighting him. They just needed a little mental persuasion to be sure that in the end, Deadlock won their little game.

It felt… weird. Were you floating? Were you sitting? Did it even matter? If this was weird, then what was normal? You couldn't think of the answer. Should that trouble you? You weren't sure. There was a voice that seemed to say it was fine. Well, it wasn't a voice so much as an idea. Basically, it said everything was alright, or more, the "voice" felt like everything was alright. Everything was according to plan. What plan? Was there a plan? Had you forgotten to do something for it? No, the voice that wasn't a voice came again, everything was fine, perfectly fine, just be calm. Oh, calm. That sounded nice. You hadn't really been calm for a long time. Not since before the battle with Deadlock, back when you were with the Autobots and, and… wait, what was the beginning of that thought? Calm. Oh yes, calm. You'd been calm for so long, you were the master at calm. How long had you been calm? Always. Oh, ok. That sounds nice, being calm is nice. Something seemed to nag in the back of your mind, something you were worried about, or should be worried about. What was it again? Is it about Deadlock?- the voice seemed to question sweetly. Uhhh, yes. Yes, it probably was. Why worry about him? He was perfectly fine. He can handle himself. No, not worried like that, it was more like… like… Why worry about him at all? Because, you thought. Because of what he's done. The battle- he took- The training- the voice corrected almost as instantaneously as you thought each word. He saved- The training where we fought. He saved me and took me back to base. I've been trying to get away. I have to get back, everyone's probably so worried. Oh, how did this line of thought start? Go back. Deadlock. He saved me during training and I've been trying to do something ever since. Do what? What was I doing? Uhhh… escape?- Leave, the word was replaced almost seamlessly again. Why leave? Deadlock would be so worried about you. You wouldn't want that. Oh, no, I guess not, right? Was that why I was worried about Deadlock earlier? Yeah, probably. He will be so worried when I'm gone. Then why go? He wants to take care of you, you need to be taken care of. Oh, yes. That was a good point. Cybertron wasn't exactly kind on humans. You needed help for sure. And if that help came from Deadlock, well then- But something still nagged in the back of your mind. Something? A couple of things? What were they? Did it matter? Did the somethings matter? What did matter? Deadlock. That's what mattered. And you mattered to him. In fact, you mattered so much to him that he was taking care of you. Oh, that's nice of him. Yes, very nice. You have nothing to be worried about with him around. It's easy to be calm around him. Yeah, it is. Very easy. Especially when he holds me...

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Red Alert had checked the readouts. Had double checked them. Triple checked them. He had to be sure before he told anyone else. There'd been a pattern with the past few battles with the Decepticons. A mis-step on their part here, late arrivals and backups, tactical errors that seemed out of place of their usual methods. Yes, the Decepticons had won several important victories lately, but there was something off. It was like someone was feeding them misinformation and half-truths. The timing was too much to be a coincidence. Good thing that Red Alert didn’t believe in coincidences. The human, their human- was alive. And they were being held captive and questioned by the Decepticons. It took a bit of investigating. Red Alert felt confident enough to bring his discovery to Prime. He had to be sure. At the same time, he knew he had to make sure he had to hurry. Who knew how much longer the human would last with the Deceptions! By the time Optimus returned to base later that day, Red Alert and more than half the team were there waiting. "What's all this? What's going on?" Red Alert without a moment of hesitation handed Prime the datapad. “Sir, we have reason to believe that we know where (name) is being kept.” *** The human woke up wrapped in Deadlock’s arms. He was still in recharge from the even sounds of his air intake. They looked drearily up at his face. It was rare to see him look so calm. As they slowly became fully awake, they pulled as much of the soft blankets they could reach more tightly around them. They couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. They frowned. What a way to wake up! But what? Was it because of Deadlock’s latest mission assignments? He often had to leave to fight or to do tasks given to him by Megatron. They were usually very dangerous and the human would hold his arm tightly in worry when he would return and recount his day to them. Were they worried about Deadlock getting hurt, or worse yet, not coming back at all? Well, yes, of course. Especially with this latest mission. But was that really the reason behind this guttural feeling of dread. They were anxious, like they had to act and act now before it was too late! What were they supposed to do?! They tried getting up without disturbing Deadlock. Something was wrong, but what could it possibly be? The human's breathing started to become frantic. It felt stuffy in the room. They wished they could go outside. Or well, maybe not outside on Cybertron, that would be deadly without their suit. It felt like every cell of their body was craving the feel of unfiltered sunshine. Their lungs yearned for even a whiff of fresh air. Walking on soft grass? Yes please. Digging through rich, organic-filled soil? It was like part of their soul hungered desperately for it. They tried to remember the last time they’d felt any of that back on Earth. They had taken it for granted then, not realizing how much they’d miss it when they went to Cybertron to join the Autobots. They’d been too full of righteous anger then, wanting vengeance for their losses, hoping to help end the war sooner in any way they could. They didn’t realize how much they’d miss… Their heart froze in their chest. Autobots? When they’d left Earth, they’d gone to join the... Autobots? That couldn’t be right? That didn’t make sense! The more they thought about it, the more their memories started to make less and less sense. The Autobots were their enemy. Right? But then why were there memories of Optimus Prime giving them a tour of the Autobot base? Why had they gone on a joyride with Sideswipe? Hound had shown them some Cybertronian vegetation samples he had been preserving throughout the war. Arcee and Chromia had helped them translate their fighting moves to combat while in a battle suit. They nearly gasped in shock as feelings of guilt and grief flooded their brain. Why were they feeling this? Why did they miss them? Where were these memories coming from? Recoiling, they searched their mind. Deadlock had met them on Earth, had saved them from an Autobot attack? They frowned. That memory felt so colorless and hollow compared to the new ones they’d discovered, but they continued. They’d begged Deadlock to let them come with him to Cybertron. He’d trained them to fight. Shockwave built the battle suit which was destroyed. It was a close call, but they’d survived. Deadlock hadn’t let them leave the Decepticon Base since, too worried about their safety. That… that was there. In their mind. Images of memories were there, acting as evidence of their validity. But… the more they were examined, the more things started falling apart. Cracks started forming in the memories, like dried paint on a balloon when you inflate it, or puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit together. And like a mis-matched puzzle, the whole image was starting to make less and less sense the more they thought about it. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Despite the human’s efforts to remain still and calm, Deadlock started stirring. His optics came back online and their red light spilled down onto the smaller human. “You’re awake early today,” he commented in a deep, still somewhat sleepy voice. “How did you sleep?” "Fine," they muttered stiffly. Deadlock pulled them in tightly, his lips resting against the shell of their ear. "Mmmmmmhmmmmm. Something is troubling you," he paused as if waiting for a response. When none came, he turned the human around to face them. "What’s wrong? Tell me.” He paused again, but there was only silence. “How can I fix what’s troubling you if you don't tell me?” The human frowned, conflicted about what to say, or if they should say anything at all. They gave in as Deadlock’s grip began getting unbearably tight. “How long have I been here?” The grip became significantly more loose as Deadlock’s expression changed to a mix of surprise and confusion. “What was that?” “How… how long have I been here,” they ask again, their confidence waxing a bit stronger as they seemed to find their voice. “What have I done?” The human could feel Deadlock tense at the question for just an instant before he relaxed again and responded in a dangerously sweet tone, "What kind of question is that? Where is all this coming from?" The human had enough sense to know that telling the truth about these new and confusing memories would only make trouble. If they were false, then it would only upset Deadlock unnecessarily. If they were true... well, they weren’t sure what that would mean just yet, but it definitely wasn’t good. In the meantime, they had to think of something to say. Deadlock’s red eyes were burning into their own. Thinking on the spot, they came up with what they could and told a half-truth. “I had… a strange dream. I don’t know if it was a nightmare or not, it just… it was… strange.” “Strange? How so?” The human panicked a bit, but kept their cool. That’s what Wheeljack had taught them before right? Wait, right? Uh, well that was kind of the question and problem right now. They had to come up with something to say and quick, so they continued on with the half-truths. “I think I just miss Earth. I was dreaming about it, and then I was here with you on Cybertron, but I was also with the Autobots? But we weren’t fighting. And then Megatron was there and he was really happy about something and…” The human looked up at Deadlock with the most innocent puppy dog eyes they could muster, “I’m sorry, I know that all sounds silly. Dreams don’t always make sense though, especially when you try to explain them out lou-” Deadlock swore violently as he got up from the berth and returned to his full size. The human sat, dazed and confused as Deadlock stomped toward the door. Before he reached it, he turned back to the human. “You’re sure you were dreaming about the Autobots?” His voice was icy and sent shivers down the human’s spine. They silently nodded, still a bit in shock. With a low growl, Deadlock turned back to the door and stomped out, leaving the human locked and alone in the room. “Well,” they said aloud to themselves, “that was odd.” Odd, and terrifying. It didn’t seem to match their memories of Deadlock, or… no. No it did. Dual images of Deadlock existed. A soft, caring bot who loved them and let them stay with him while on Cybertron was mirrored by a vicious and cruel mech who had fought and captured them and now kept them here as a trophy and play-thing. But which one was real? Why were there conflicting memories in their head? The human pulled their legs in close to the rest of their body and took a deep breath in an attempt to clear their mind. They had to figure this out. They had to get to the bottom of this. What was the truth? ---- Deadlock stomped down the hall, sending lower-ranking cons scurrying out of his way as he passed. They knew better than to be in range of the mech when fury roiled in his EM field like that, it was not a safe place to be at all. He paid them no mind though. There was only one bot that needed to watch out for his wrath right now. They weren’t on base now, but as soon as Deadlock got his claws into Trepan, he was going to pay dearly. Then he was going to address and fix the spots he missed in his dear little rival’s memories, before this all got out of servo.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The human had been sitting in silence for, well, they weren’t sure how long. In the hours of his absence, they used Deadlock’s absence to review their memories in peace. They paced until their legs were tired. They sat to think before they grew too restless and began pacing again. How could they remember being with the Autobots and leaving Earth with Deadlock at the same time? That was impossible. Something was wrong. What was real? What was fake? Why were there fake memories in their head? Their feelings up to this point, about the Decepticons, about… about Deadlock… were those even real? Their chest felt tight as they began hyperventilating. What had happened -really happened? Why were they like this?!? They were trying to fight back tears as they searched through confusing memories when the door opened. The human glanced up apprehensively. Deadlock? They weren’t sure they were ready to face him right now. Not like this. For better or for worse, it wasn’t Deadlock. It was… it was Frenzy. The Casseticon’s silhouette was harshly lit from behind. The human stared silently, frozen in place as Frenzy stepped to the berth and pulled them up and along behind him roughly. “Looks like Deadlock’s gone off on one of his little jaunts. Humph. Just ‘cuz he’s Megatron’s favorite, he can do whatever he wants, go wherever he wants,” he looked back at the human, “take whatever he wants.” “What are you doing?” The human’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “More than what I signed up for today, that’s what,” was the gruff reply they got. Frenzy was a little more than a foot taller than they were and it was easy for him to drag the human along out the door. The relative safety of the room now gone, the human’s heart rate spiked even further. They’d left the room before. Plenty of times. But almost always with Deadlock. And definitely always not in the middle of some mental breakdown or memory mishap, or whatever the heck was going on with them! Primal fear stabbed through their stomach while at the same time, flaking memories surfaced in her mind of Deadlock telling them they’d always be safe with the Decepticons. Frenzy seemed oblivious to the mental war raging in the organic creature in his servo. He was much too focused grumbling about Deadlock’s sudden disappearance and having to cover his extra duties. “Now I get to haul you to Shockwave’s lab on top of everything else. If I were to just not show up for something, I’d never hear the end of it! Or rather, I would, right after I was put offline. But no, Deadlock can do whatever he wants whenever he wants because he’s Megatron’s little-” A loud alarm cut the disgruntled Decepticon off. He paused and looked around and tensed, then growled as he received orders over his comm. “Yeah I got the fleshie now… but I… but boss!.... Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m going.” “Wh-what’s going on?” “Nonaya business, we’re just gonna have ta make a detour is all,” Frenzy started quickly down a corridor, nearly pulling the human’s arm out of their socket, grumbling as they struggled to keep pace. It was all they could do to avoid being dragged along behind the casseticon. Their mind raced as they tried to figure out what the heck was going on! Frenzy swore as the pair came around the corner. Two Autobots nearly ran into them, but one of them was able to jump out of the way to avoid a collision. The second smaller bot wasn’t quite as quick on his peds. The human nearly had the air knocked out of them as they crashed into the bright yellow of his chassis. “(Name)?!” The human looked up. Bumblebee? And the other… Sunstreaker? Almost immediately, a swirl of double memories assaulted their mind, laughing with Bumblebee while pulling a prank at base, helping Sunstreaker buff out some scratches after a battle with the Decepticons, dodging a blast from Bumblebee on the battlefield, hiding under debris while they prepared for a counterattack… wait, no, that hadn’t been Bumblebee, it was… it was Deadlock? Wait, what? Their stomach turned. With a screech of metal, Frenzy grabbed the slightly larger Bumblebee by the arm and swung him into Sunstreaker. Before either could recover, the casseticon ran and reached out for the human again. Just before he could grab them, a small, multi-limbed something jumped and struck him sideways. “Good boy Bob!” Sunstreaker cheered as he scooped up the small insecticon. Before the human could register what was going on, they were swept off their feet by Bumblebee who led Sunstreaker and Bob back down the corridor they came from. “No! Let me go!” the human screamed. They weren’t sure what was going on anymore and all they wanted was just a few moments to try to process what was going on and what was wrong with them. “(Name)?” Bumblebee's voice sounded shocked and worried. “(Name), it’s me, it’s, it’s us. We’re your friends, we’re here to rescue you.” he glanced back to Sunstreaker who in turn looked back briefly at where they had left Frenzy behind. For a moment, it looked like he might go back and take a few extra shots at the small Decepticon. “What have those fraggin’ cons done to them?” With a kick and a struggle, the human squirmed out of Bumblebee’s grip and bolted. They didn’t know where. All they knew was they had to find somewhere, anywhere to think. “(Name)! Come back! Please!” The human stumbled a bit. Please? Since when did Autobots say please? Or, wait, no. No. Autobots… when did Decepticons say please? When had Deadlock ever said… From behind, the human saw Bumblebee, no Deadlock, no Bumblebee reaching out to them again. Past images flashed of Bumblebee reaching out to grab them, taking them away from the battlefield, no, away from their home on Earth? What was true anymore?! They grabbed their head as if that would help clear things. Not clearly watching where they were going, they tripped and rolled to a stop. “What did you do, drop them?” Sunstreaker ran up to help. With a loud clang, he was knocked back by a newcomer behind the human. “Autobot scum,” a familiar voice growled. The human’s spine tingled. Was that fear? But why? The human turned their head to see Deadlock look down and lock his glowing red eyes on them. “(Name), what are you doing out here?” he nearly snarled. He reached down toward them. As he reached, time seemed to slow down as the action sparked a surge of memories. On the battlefield, escaping a broken mech suit and running, doing their best to fight back while attempting to retreat, getting grabbed by Deadlock, the feeling of helplessness as they were carried off. The human’s eyes widened. These memories felt different than the others. This one felt whole and clear- like the others were glitching and foggy by comparison. They may not be sure what the heck was going on, but they knew one thing: Deadlock would not catch them again. They rolled and were on their feet with the speed that only comes from training. More clear memories surfaced: training with Arcee on evasive maneuvers, the Autobot base, the battlefield the day they’d been captured as they’d attempted to dodge Deadlock’s grasp. A wave of resolve filled the human. These memories were true. They clung to them desperately as they dove away from Deadlock’s reach. No sooner had they cleared the Decepticon’s outstretched hand that Bumblebee tackled him. The two tumbled back and Bumblebee kept his hits coming, trying to prevent Deadlock from being able to draw his weapons. The human nearly lept as Sunstreaker approached, crouching down to their level. The only thing that kept them from running was the fact that they were fighting against Deadlock. That was enough to hesitantly side with them for the moment. “(Name), it’s okay, we’re going to get you out of here.” Sunstreaker glanced up at his fellow yellow Autobot, now struggling to keep Deadlock occupied. He activated his comm. “Prime, we found them! We’ve got company though. Requesting backup.” Before he could end the transmission, Deadlock had managed to throw Bumblebee off of him. The minibot hit and rolled, leaving scrapes of paint and scratches in the floor behind him. As Deadlock reached to pull his guns, Sunstreaker blasted him in the shoulder. The con toppled back, crashing against the wall and dropping one of his blasters. Sunstreaker jumped up, pulling his arm for a punch. Before it could connect however, Deadlock’s hands shot out and stopped the oncoming attack. Sunstreaker cried out as Deadlock squeezed the Autobot’s fist in his larger hand and rose to his feet slowly. Sunstreaker threw a punch with his other hand, which connected with Deadlock’s face and caused him to stumble. With a terrifying growl, the larger con pulled Sunstreaker back with him, caught their fall with a sweep of his legs, and jolted forward to crash his helm into Sunstreaker’s face. Before the injured Autobot could hit the ground, the human had scampered to Deadlock’s fallen weapon. The gun was nearly as large as they were, but they were able to heft it up enough to get their arms around it. They put a hand on the trigger, and putting their whole weight into it, were able to lean it back enough to aim it at Deadlock. The smug smile melted off the Decepticon’s face as he noticed his rival’s actions. “(Name), put it down, you’re confused and afraid, it’s okay, I’m here for you now. You’re safe.” “Am I?” The human shouted back. Their voice sounded so raspy and not nearly as steady as they had hoped. “Then why do I have these memories? You attacked Earth! You attacked the Autobots! You attacked me! I remember fighting you in a mech suit.” Deadlock growled and his ruby optics flashed to the Autobots who were only just starting to stir on the ground. “They messed with your mind. Put that weapon down and I can get you help. We can fix this and you can be happy again.” The human readjusted their slipping grip on the weapon. “No! This started before they came. You did this, I don’t know how, but now I have double memories that tell two completely different stories. But you,” the human took a deep breath to steady themselves. They were shaking now. It was a struggle to keep the gun up and pointed at the menacing con in front of them. “You, I remember you. I have memories of fighting you that are clearer than the rest. I remember you destroying my mech suit and capturing me. You brought me here against my will. I don’t know what you did to me, but I’m leaving with the Autobots!” Deadlock’s optics narrowed. “What makes you think they want you back? How can you be sure they’re not just here to terminate you? Think of what you’ve done, what information you’ve spilled? How much Autobot energon do you think we’ve spilled because of you?” Deadlock smiled as the human’s eyes widened. Their hold on his weapon began to slip once more. He lowered his voice, “I told you, you are a Decepticon now. Like it or not, you belong here, with me.” The human’s eyes watered, and they blinked hard, trying to remove the extra fluids. Deadlock smirked. He had them. He would always have them. They could fight, and as amusing as their intrepid spirit was, he would always best his precious little rival. Thundering footsteps from down the corridor interrupted Deadlock’s triumphal thoughts. A large, red, and blue shape ran into view. “(Name!)” Optimus yelled, taking stock of the scene he was coming into. The human stared at him. Once again, memories flashed: meeting the Autobot leader on Earth, asking, begging him to allow them to join the fight, seeing the worried but proud look in those blue optics when they first powered up their new mech suit. Like before, these memories seemed sharp and clear. They brought a surge of emotions and comfort to the human’s entire body. Optimus was here and they’d be okay now. Deadlock snarled and reached for his other gun still holstered over his shoulder. Before he could draw and shoot, the human took advantage of his distraction and pulled the trigger. Their aim, as it were while trying to hold the too-large-for-them weapon, was not great, but it did hit. Deadlock stumbled and clutched his leg where he’d been shot. He turned back to the human, optics as angry as fire. With the remaining strength they had left, the human pulled the trigger again. The shot went awry this time, but Deadlock flinched at it nonetheless. As he pulled back his arm to swipe at the human, Optimus plowed into him, sending him tumbling into the wall. Having spent the last bit of their strength, the human fell to the ground, Deadlock’s gun pinning them awkwardly, but only for a moment. Optimus, as carefully as he could, removed the weapon and scooped the exhausted human in his arms. Behind him, Ironhide, Arcee, and Jazz ran up, weapons drawn and ready. Ironhide kept his cannons pointed at the unmoving Deadlock while Arcee and Jazz went to help Sunstreaker and Bumblebee who were struggling to rise now. “Up ya get my man,” Jazz helped Sunstreaker to his feet and pulled his arm over his shoulder to give support, “you’re brother’s never gonna let me hear the end of it if I don’t getcha back to base in one piece. You too Bob.” The insecticon who had been trapped under the fallen Sunstreaker, chirped and whirred weakly. Bumblebee, who was now being supported by Arcee, looked around and asked weakly, “(Name)? Are, are they alright?” Optimus looked down at the human cradled carefully in his arms. They gave a weak smile through their tears. It was about all they could manage right now as they were struggling to keep themselves from just shutting down mentally. The double memories had taken a toll on their mind. They still just wanted time to think, to figure all this out. There were wounds from this that would need to be healed. For now, though, they knew they could trust Optimus. They could feel that deep down, more than any memory, false or true, could say otherwise. Optimus nodded to his bots and opened his commlink, “Autobots, fall back. Ratchet, prepare to open a ground bridge at the rendezvous point.” The Autobots retreat, joy in their sparks. Arcee and Bumblebee look on with smiles as they retrace their steps down the corridors of the Decepticon base. They had their human “sibling” back! Ironhide led the way, canons at the ready as they went. Jazz soon joined him after Sunstreaker insisted that he could walk fine by himself and would cover the rear. No Decepticons snuck up on their back, and between Jazz and Ironhide, the cons they came across were quickly dispatched. They made it back to the rendezvous point with the other Autobots. The human at this point was barely hanging on to consciousness and didn’t hear Optimus comm Ratchet to open the ground bridge, but they did see the familiar blue and green swirling lights. As the Autobots retreated through the bridge, they looked up at Optimus. He noticed their attention and looked down concernedly at them. There were still tears in their eyes, though they were from relief now more than anything. “You came for me.” Something about the tone they said it in, tore at Optimus’ spark. Their shock and pitiful hopefulness spoke volumes about what psychological treatment they’d been dealt while captive. It was going to be a lot of time and effort to heal. Optimus looked around at his Autobots around him. They kept shooting worried looks to the human in his arms. He knew each and every one of them loved the human greatly, each in their own way, and would be supportive as they healed. The human, whom he viewed as his own child, was in good hands now. “Of course, (Name), we’re your family. We’ll always be here for you.” The human looked like they might break into tears but instead smiled softly before they finally slipped peacefully into a much-needed sleep.

#transformers #yandere #deadlock #Reader is human #tf au

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago

Note

Hey Steph, could you please rec any fics with Hurt John or Hurt Sherlock and the other looking after them? Thanks!

Hi Nonny!!

AHHHHHHH I love this trope alottles, and of course I have a LOT of fics relating to it! I’ve RECENTLY just updated some more Doctor John fics (Pt 4), so I’m going to link you to them here:

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 3

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 4

Sherlock is Sick/Hurt (Sherlock Whump)

Sherlock Whump Pt. 2

Otherwise, check out these new additions to my John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John Lists!!

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SHERLOCK TAKES CARE OF JOHN Pt. 3