How would Megatron, Knockout, Soundwave and Airachnid react to Predaking taking Starscream to Shockwave and Shockwave turning Starscream into a predacon? I bet Knockout would be the only one that actually feels bad for Starscream! (Also, what if Starscream has ice breathe as an opposite to the other predacons' fire breathe?🔥)
Airachnid would fuck right off. Nope out of there so fast because she knows she’s next if you’re looking at rank status. Definitely not because Starscream was dangerous enough to rip her in half, yeah, that’s TOTALLY not it ¬¬||
Soundwave is the first to find out after no one can find the seeker. He discovers some ghastly creature that was once Starscream being guarded by the massive Predacon. Shockwave reacts tersely and Soundwave immediately is aware this experiment was not sanctioned by Megatron. Soundwave tries to separate his feelings about this from his duty, but it is admittedly difficult to refrain from assaulting Shockwave rather than turning heel to report up to Megatron. He does, however, have the presence of mind to override and lockdown every single latch, hatch, and door to prevent Shockwave and his creations from escaping due process.
Knock Out and Megatron find out something is amiss when they both receive simultaneous pings - the medic’s regarding potentially needing to start reviewing file upon file upon file of medical records and scientific documents that clearly were written by Shockwave, yet sent by Soundwave?
Megatron received a very high level alert regarding grievous harm done to the second in command. He hadn’t authorized any punishment, and the other had not been sent out on any missions that could have resulted in him being vulnerable to attack. Both he and Knock Out looked to one another when they also received the follow up location - not coordinates but instead a Nemesis ship location: Shockwave’s lab.
The two mechs made their way swiftly down and found Soundwave waiting with his cables unspooled and ready for action. Wordlessly Knock Out and Megatron prepared their respective blades, the medic silently comming for his assistant to join them.
When Soundwave opened the door they were immediately faced with a furious predacon hissing and snarling, trying to falsely charge them to keep them at bay. Shockwave was walking through a ground bridge, dragging a smaller silver, red and blue accented predacon they had not seen before. It was clearly muzzled and had some sort of devices clamped to its wings and limbs to keep it from fleeing or putting up a fight.
Megatron switched to his canon, firing at the beast before him and only managing to push it back. It with two beats of its wings materials from the lab were sent scattering and flying at the mechs trying to enter the lab. Soundwave attempted to go for the mad scientist but it was too late, the dragon in the lab managing to block and distract them long enough for him to get away.
In a flurry of scaled plating and fire he blasted his way past the Decepticon leader and his medic, not bothering to fight them. He barreled through the halls and blasted his way out of the hangar, taking to the skies and fleeing the Nemesis.
“But he isn’t here?!” Megatron roared, still scanning the destroyed lab and where the portal had closed. Soundwave pulled up the replay of the events that just occurred, zooming in on the visual feed of Shockwave dragging the unwilling small dragon out. Realization dawned on him and the medic, both horrified and then furious.
“Knock Out, gather the troops. Soundwave, contact Prime.”
Both mechs looked surprised at the second order. Breakdown jogged up to the doors, looking embarrassed being so slow to get to the scene but at least his hammer was at the ready, bless his spark. Megatron didn’t acknowledge him as he turned and walked past him.
“We’ll need to combine forces to take that atrocity and its maker down. I will not have Shockwave tainting what is MINE.” He left no room for argument, and his words left no doubt in anyone’s mind that he would see this through.
Jason Grace and Jun Adachi stood in Ozpin’s office, looks of shock mimicked on each other’s faces.
“What?” Jun asked weakly, as if he couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“I am transferring Mr. Grace to Team Jetsam. He will take over as leader while you will be going to Team Justice.” Ozpin made the declaration as if he did things like this any day. Who knew- maybe he did.
Jason didn’t like the way Jun steeled himself almost immediately, shoving down all of his emotions and nodding. He had seen too many do that exact same thing in Atlas. Heck, he did that from time to time himself. But to see one of his friends do it broke his heart.
“I understand, sir.” Jun said in a way that made Jason think of a soldier in Atlas’ army. Tough. No nonsense. Absolutely dead on the inside. He knew how much Jun loved his teammates, his brother. They were like family to him and for Ozpin to take that away from him was cruel beyond words.
“Sir, I must protest-” Jason started before getting cut off by a look from Jun. Now was not the time for this apparently. Jason was dumb anyway and kept going. “To take Jun away from his team and place him with others in the middle of the school year-”
“Is something that must be done. Justice recently lost their leader and Jun will take her place. He will be in excellent hands, Mr. Grace. Anything else?” Ozpin sipped from his mug, quirking an eyebrow at Jason. There wasn’t anything that came to mind though. Nothing that he could put into words. “Then you two are dismissed.”
- - - - -
When Jason got his things moved into the JTSM dorm, he found three surly characters. Two boys, one girl. He was a little startled when he saw Jun glaring at him before remembering him mentioning that he had a twin. This must be the team. JTSM.
“Hello,” Jason started conversationally. “My name is-”
“Fuck off,” the boy in the red coat said. “We don’t care who you are. You’re not our leader, no matter what Ozpin says.”
“I want my brother back,” not-Jun muttered darkly. The girl nodded, looking like she was ready to stand from her seat and punch Jason right in the face.
“I’m sorry, I really can’t help it. I’m sure Jun will be fine though so please, let’s just-”
Jason couldn’t finish that sentence as each member of his team stood and walked past him, through the door and into the hallway beyond. He sighed and shook his head. This was going to be a long four years if they continued with this kind of aggression.
He unpacked his things in silence, storing them neatly. A place for everything and everything in its place. Atlas standard layout. He expected it to be ruined every day for as long as he was leader of this team. What he hadn’t expected was a new email sitting in his inbox. An email from Jun of all people.
Hello Jason! It’s Jun. I mean, you probably figured that out, but I just wanted to give you a brief overview of Jetsam so you could integrate yourself better with them. They’ll... probably dislike you at first, especially Tohru. He’s always been a little overprotective of me, and they’ll see this as a betrayal of the system. They’re really sweet when you get to know them though! So, let me give you an overview of each of the team members!
An overview this wasn’t. This was a full psyche eval, combat prowess, how they worked in pairs and as a group. Their likes and dislikes. Hopes and dreams and wishes. Strengths and weaknesses both on and off the battlefield. As much of their past histories as Jun had been able to find out, and their likely reactions to certain stimulus. The email turned out to be 30 pages long but by the end of it Jason had a thorough understanding of his new team.
From this email alone, he got the sense of Jun being a caring leader, one who took his job seriously and performed admirably. One who encouraged from behind, lead from the front and always knew what to say to comfort or cheer. One who would be good with small groups like this, but no more than that. He was the type who wouldn’t sit idly by, allowing others to do the work for him. He needed to be in the thick of things, see what was going on first hand. Someone who was observant, intelligent, dedicated to his work and making his team the best they could be.
It didn’t make sense then, why JTSM was near the bottom half of the rankings. Out of the nearly 100 teams in Beacon Academy, JTSM was 63rd. A quick check of the list told Jason that Team JTCE was in the top 5. 3rd overall, with each of its members in the top 20 for individual ranks. All of JTSM’s members were in that same sphere so why so low...?
Jason was going to get to the bottom of it.
- - - - -
JTSM was near the bottom because JTSM didn’t care about rankings. That was the conclusion that Jason had come to as he watched his team wander out of the simulation room a week after he had come to lead them. He sighed and shook his head. They could all be brilliant- he had seen it first hand. They could easily be within the Top 5 teams in this school so why not? Why stay safe? Why not take some risks?
Movement caught his eye and he turned to it. It couldn’t have been Tohru- the one who had been the most angry that Jun had been transferred. His stance was too hunched, he looked too shy and he was wearing a blue tie. That could only leave-
“Jun!” Jason called out. Jun’s eyes snapped to Jason’s face as his body recoiled. That wasn’t a good sign. Not a good sign at all.
“Ah... H-h-hello G-G-G-G-G-” Jun’s face screwed up as he tried to stutter his way through Jason’s name, shuffling backward a little bit when Jason came to stand before him. What was wrong? Even when they first met, Jun hadn’t stuttered this badly.
“It’s nice to see you Jun. How are you doing?” Keep the tone light. Conversational. Jun was in pain and Jason had no idea why. What was going on? He was going to find out though. Even if Jun didn’t like it.
“Ah. F-f-f-f-f-fine,” Jun mumbled to his feet, shuffling awkwardly from side to side. His head was down. His eyes were dull and unhappy. His hair looked slightly greasy. And from this close up, he could see how rumpled his clothing really was. It didn’t look like Jun in the least little bit.
“Really? You don’t look fine to me. Trouble sleeping?”
He didn’t miss the slight way Jun’s mouth tried to frown. “S-s-s-s-something l-l-l-like th-th-th-that.”
“Hey, you know you can talk to me, right?” Jason took one step forward but stopped when Jun shuffled away.
“I h-have t-t-t-t-to go...” Jason’s heart broke as Jun shuffled off, past him and to destinations unknown. Though he wanted to go after his friend... now was not the time. Another day, then. First- wrangle his team back.
- - - - -
One of Jason’s routines was to watch the leaderboards. It was a habit Atlas had instilled in him- him and all of those who attended Atlas Academy. Watch the leaderboards. See that you don’t wind up on bottom. Stay on top.
Team JTCE had dropped two places, now 5th overall. Jun himself had dropped 30 places in the span of two weeks. A quick look at the stats didn’t lie- He had been skipping a lot of class, his range scores were down, and his semblance was doing him no good in combat. His grades were suffering. Jun was rapidly slipping away and Jason was not happy about it. But why? What was causing Jun to suffer so?
He got his answer when he found Jun in the library.
A mountain of books separated Jun from the rest of the room, where he dutifully worked on his homework. Odd, considering he had been showing up to so few classes. And why so many varying subjects? Jason liked it less and less the more he stared at it.
And still, it didn’t click until a slinky woman came up to him and cuffed him on the head. Jason shook in silent rage as Jun handed off a series of papers and she stalked off again, leafing through them like this was a regular occurrence. He was supposed to be their leader, not their slave!
The blonde hair boy moved to Jun’s side, trying to keep his anger from showing. He wasn’t mad at Jun. Oh no. The Atlas born boy was mad at the rest of team JTCE. “How long has this been going on?”
Jun shrugged, not looking up, not paying anyone any mind. This close, Jason could smell the stink of unwashed body, could see the dark bags under the boy’s eyes, could nearly taste the meltdown waiting to happen. Jason put a hand over the latest bit of homework- something about advance level Grimm- and tried to get Jun to look him in the eye. The boy just sat there. Now that he wasn’t doing anything, Jason could see the slight tremors in his hands and his body.
“When was the last time you slept? Ate something? Had something to drink?”
Another indifferent shrug.
“Went outside? Talked? Hung out with your team?”
A flinch. Yet a third shrug.
“Jun. This isn’t right. This isn’t healthy. Please. Let me help you. Please.”
Jun just stood, gathered the papers from underneath Jason’s hand and walked away. Out of the library. Hopefully to the cafeteria or the dormitories.
Jason had a sinking feeling that Jun would have to be broken down even further for him to get some help.
- - - - -
“Tohru. I need your help.”
Three weeks in and Jason was finally telling the differences between the twins. Tohru kept himself more disheveled, shirt unbuttoned, hair a wild tangle of black waves, eyes dark and yet mischievous at the same time. Like Jun said- Tohru didn’t wear a tie.
“Eh? Me? Why?” Distrustful as all get out too. Tohru quirked an eyebrow at Jason, folding his arms over his chest.
“Because it’s about your twin.”
That got Tohru’s attention real quick. His body language shifted from distrust to worry. “What about him.” Short. To the point. Anger in his voice, just as his twin predicted.
“I think Justice is abusing him. Look-” Jason pulled out his holo-pad, going to the team rankings first. JTCE had slipped 7 more places, leaving them 12th overall, even as JTSM blew past them to 10th place. It was amazing what a little motivation did to send a mediocre team to the top ten.
“Now take a look at his personal scores.” A few taps and swipes and Jun’s personal records showed he was quickly finding himself failing all of the classes he had been assigned.
Tohru hissed his disapproval, taking the pad from Jason’s hands. “You’re right. Something’s fishy. This isn’t like him. Two weeks of missed classes?” More tapping, more swiping. “And it started only after the transfer.”
Jason nodded, blonde hair bobbing in his eyes. “That’s what I figured. But you know your twin better than anyone else. If he would go to anyone, it would be you right?”
Tohru looked off into the distance. His hands came down to tap a rhythm onto the table in front of him, a hammering staccato. “I don’t know. We’ve always been taught by our parents to grin and bear it, no matter what ‘it’ was. From injuries of the body to injuries of the heart. Grin and bear it.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“We’ll just have to get him transferred to a different team then.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
Tohru looked up, that ever so familiar smile creeping up on his face. “Why, we document the abuse, of course.”
- - - - -
“Why are you so useless in combat?” That was one of Jun’s teammates. The readhead. Candy.
The only other boy in JTCE snickered. Timmothy. “He’s just really dumb, that’s why. So useless with that stupid gun of his. It’s just a gun. Who does that these days?”
Jun stood in silence while they waited for their true leader to speak up. Eda. She simply tilted her head at their target of ridicule and sniffed once. “Don’t you think he smells a bit?”
Just like that, it became the new topic. Jun tensed as they went on about how he smelled like he had crawled out of a sewer, how Grimm smelled better than he was, on and on and on. It took all of Jason’s willpower not to go over there and punch them all in the face. Mariko was the only thing keeping him still, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping a camera. She was just as angry about this as he was, but she was holding it in better. No. He could hold it in. Save the justified rage for Ozpin’s office.
“Where’s our homework?” Eda asked.
Jun shrugged, staring down at his feet. As if this wasn’t happening. As if his feet were the most interesting thing in the world. Tough. No nonsense. Absolutely dead on the inside. Crying out for help.
Candy swatted him on the back of his head. “Come on, dumbass, work!”
“We wanted Grace on our team and instead we got you. You could at least make yourself useful and do our homework for us.” Timmothy rolled his eyes.
Jun did nothing. Jun said nothing.
“Come on. Let’s leave our ‘leader’ to his work.” Eda moved away, dragging Candy and Timmothy behind her. The three laughed at something they thought was funny. Jun just shook his head, took a deep breath in and walked in a different direction, squaring his shoulders.
Jason felt helpless as he watched his friend walk away, as if nothing was wrong. Atlas would surely approve of Jun and his handling of the situation.
It burned. It burned to watch his friend being abused for one week. Denied meals, training time, sleep time, time in an actual bed. Locked out of the shared dorm, he had to do his best washing himself in the fountains at night. Scrounge meals out of the trash before it got taken away. Deal with the never ending pile of homework that had to be right and different should they share classes. And there was a lot of class sharing. Jun suffered in silence. Not one time did he utter a single word, even when the Terrible Three began to beat him for it. No pleas to ask them to stop, no cries for help, just soft grunts and moans of pain.
Jason took all of this to Ozpin’s office a month in having JTSM as a team. “Sir- we need to talk.”
- - - - -
“Team Justice, please report to Principal Ozpin’s office. I repeat, Team Justice, please report to Principal Ozpin’s office.” The voice on the intercom was brusque and professional, but there had been a hint of disapproval in it. The three members of Team JTCE looked at each other before standing and shuffling off to their destined fate. What, did the little bitch quit on them or something?
But when they got inside, five people were already there, not including Ozpin himself. Jason Grace- the Jason Grace!- three other losers and their fearless ‘leader.’
“You wished to see us, Principal Ozpin?” Eda asked, smoothing everything over.
“You’re damn right he wanted to see you!” one of the losers- a girl in blue and white and looking so gauche- yelled out.
“Now now.” Ozpin gestured for all of them to take a seat. “Settle down, all of you.” Everyone shuffled and grumbled as Ozpin stared down at a holo-screen in front of him.
“Sir, what is this all about?” Eda took charge, worry and concern moving on her face.
“This is about you fucking with Jun-” Tohru started but was silenced by Ozpin’s glare.
“I have reason to believe that the three of you are unfit to be hunters here at Beacon Academy.” That certainly opened up the flood gates.
“No!”
“What makes you think that sir?”
“We’ve never done anything illegal in our lives!”
“But I love Beacon!”
Ozpin held up a hand, garnering silence out of the group assembled before him. With little preamble, he tapped the holo-screen in front of him, sending pictures and little videos flying into the air. Each of them depicted another facet of Jun’s abuse. The night Shinjiro had caught Jun sleeping just outside JTCE’s dorm. A video of one of the beatings. Eda taking Jun’s gun from him. Jun scrounging around in a trashcan- Jason felt sick, seeing all of it again. But it needed to be done. This needed to happen. To save his friend, this needed to happen.
“What do you have to say for yourselves?” Ozpin asked.
“It’s my responsibility.”
All eyes turned to Jun. There sat the quiet, competent leader that Jason knew from a month ago. A boy who could bear all of the burden of his team and still keep going. But he was shouldering the wrong thing at the wrong time.
“It’s my responsibility,” Jun repeated, staring straight at the headmaster. “I was supposed to keep my team in line and by helping them I created a situation that at first glance looks abusive. Please forgive me for wasting your time.” He stood and bowed deeply to Ozpin amidst the shock.
“Jun-”
“See Headmaster? This was an honest mistake.” Eda looked so fucking smug when she turned from her leader’s bow to Ozpin. She spread her arms wide, smiling sweetly at them all. Jun still didn’t come out from his bow.
The headmaster looked at them all from his chair, eyes glancing from one child to the next. Jason knew that in a few moments, he would dismiss them all and Jun would do something drastic to himself. He had to stop this now.
Jason cleared his throat. He felt all eyes on him, even Jun’s. He had to hurt his friend to save his friend. He could only hope that he would be forgiven for this transgression. “Jun... Where’s your stutter?”
Jun said nothing.
“You can’t have trained it away in the space of a month. You’ve been trying for nearly a decade.” Tohru was sharp as ever.
Still, Jun said nothing.
“Have they really hurt you that much? That you’d delve so deep into a lie?” Shinjiro asked, a hand moving from his red coat to gesture with.
Not a word. But... Jason could see the little tremors in Jun’s hands. A little more, come on Mariko-!
“You don’t have to keep this up. We’re here. We’re right here. You don’t have to do this alone.” Mariko held up one hand in a gesture of peace while Eda stands abruptly.
“Headmaster, we really should get going. We have a lot of tests to study for-” But Ozpin merely held up one hand, watching the drama unfold in front of him.
“Jun-”
“Jun?”
“Jun!”
A cacophony of voices. A mountain of responsibility. It was too much to bear. Jason felt pride, even as his friend sank to his knees and began crying. Jason felt relief when his friends- his real friends- went over to hold and comfort him. It was over. It was done.
“H-headm-master...” Jun said quietly, once all of his tears had been spilt. “I h-have a c-confession...”
- - - - -
“So the Headmaster is transferring me.” Jason smiled at his team as they played in the quad- his but for a brief moment. Still... He felt like Jun should still be leader of JTSM. It looked right. It felt right. It was right, in the end. This was the right thing to do, to sit and talk to Jun one last time before the new team could be formed.
“T-that's great! Or should I say ‘Grace?’” Jun laughed and Jason's heart soared with the sound. “And the H-headm-master sorted out m-my homework situation with th-the teachers. I'm g-glad that he did. I don't th-think I could make up my work and keep up w-with the work I will get in the future.”
“Hey! That's great that he did that! I was worrying-”
“Oh n-no. Everything's fine now. Mostly. Tohru is still m-mad and wants to kick their asses, but it's all worked out. Thank you so much f-for taking care of them.”
Jason smiled, reaching a hand out to Jun. “Thank you for leaving me such good notes. They were a life saver.”
“Ah! Anyone would d-do that. But- another team? Who are you leading?” Jun took the hand, if only to be polite.
“That’s the thing. I'm not. It'll be another boy by the name of Frank Zhang. Him, a girl named Piper McLean and a boy named Leo Valdez.”
He watched as Jun turned the gears in his head, trying to figure out the acronym. “Flapjack?” The boy asked cautiously.
“Yeah! And I hope you like flapjacks, because I'm going to make a bunch of them for both my team and yours! You know- as a sign of good will before we beat your butts in the coming tournament.”
“Wha- you wish, Grace-san!”
And as the two laughed, Jason was glad he finally left Atlas to be here.
@bastardroomba is going through a rough spot right now financially.
My writers block has lifted.
If you would like to donate money with a note saying 'For Roombles' and tell me which story you want me to update, whichever story gets the most donations with mentions will be update first. Any story mentioned that does not win will STILL be updated but not first.
@cyberratting because idek. I think you’d enjoy this.
It had been a stressful week. Hana had been injured on a mission, Lucio had to juggle taking care of everyone's sexual needs on his own, he hadn't met his self imposed deadline for the new album, and he had done three missions of his own.
It was no wonder when he found himself knocking on Zenyatta's door.
Mirrored on AO3
It had been a stressful week. Hana had been injured on a mission. She was put on strict bed rest by Angela. No one was going to contradict the good doctor, no matter how much they needed something from their Mistress. Lucio had to juggle taking care of everyone's sexual needs on his own- no mean feat considering he was having to gentle seven rather aggressive people into doing his bidding. He hadn't met his self imposed deadline for the new album. No matter how much his manager said that it was okay, he knew he had failed on some level. He had promised, and he had let everyone down because of it. He had done three missions of his own, each brutal and grueling in their own right.
It was no wonder when he found himself knocking on Zenyatta's door at three in the morning. Fortunately for him, the omnic was up even at this time at night. When he could go to no one else, he knew that he could go to Zenyatta. The monk would understand. He always understood why people would come to him when they could go to no one else- for comfort, for healing, for sex. Lucio had once asked if he minded. All he got was a rather roundabout way of saying 'I don't mind at all.'
"Lucio." The mechanical voice drew the Brazilian out of his head. He shook himself as he heard Zenyatta continue. "Do you need to speak to me?"
"Uhhh... yeah, actually. I was wanting to know if we could... cuddle, you know?" Lucio held his breath. He had never been turned down before, but maybe this was the time where he would be. Zenyatta would turn him away, leaving him to seek comfort from another source and already Lucio was thinking about others who could help him blow off some steam. Jamie, maybe? He'd understand why Jamie would say no- they were friends and friends didn't dick friends. Zarya might. He didn't want to go to Pharah and Mercy would but he only wanted to use her as a super last resort-
"Certainly. Please, come in." Lucio was always taken aback by Zenyatta accepted it. He should be used to it by now. He walked in to the room and listened to the door close with a soft 'click' behind him.
The space was sparse. Omnics didn't need much, apparently. Omnic monks needed even less. A small area which was wood lead out to a space that was all... what was the word he was looking for? Tatami, maybe. Genji had told him once, and he couldn't remember exactly what he had said. There were a few scrolls that Lucio couldn't make heads or tails of dotted here and there. A bed, neatly made was tucked into a corner. A low table surrounded by cushions dominated the room, and just under a window was a small altar. The smell of sandalwood dominated the space but that was alright. It was quite pleasant, all things considered.
In deference to Zenyatta's preference, Lucio toed off his shoes- lime green, a gift from a fan from Denmark- and turned around. Zenyatta was already floating silently to the bed and Lucio followed. The human waited until he was settled before slotting himself against that metallic frame. It was cool to the touch, but that didn't matter much. It was still nice to lay his ear against the chest plates, hear the hum of the core and listen to the soft 'shhing' of various coolants and oils move within the omnic.
Zenyatta understood. He ran the cool fingers down Lucio's back, allowing the other to listen to his 'heart beat' and relax. One hand moved to undo the clip that held the dreadlocks in a neat pony tail. Lucio sighed as the tension eased in his head. The shudder started from that point and rapidly moved down his spine to stop at his hips.
"Thanks man," Lucio mumbled, eyes half open. He barely heard the response as every tension seemed to melt away. Sure fingers massaged his sore muscles. The hum of Zenyatta's life nearly lulled him to sleep. He heard Zenyatta say something and he had to pull away.
"Could you repeat that?"
Zenyatta patiently did just that. "Do you want to kneel for me, Lucio?"
A heat pooled in Lucio's stomach at that thought. It was rare for Zenyatta to offer since Lucio never asked. "Please-" he hated how needy he sounded, even to his own ears, how he seemed to choke on that simple word.
"Then pretty pet, would you please get yourself a cushion from the table? Choose any one you wish."
That simple request couldn't have been worded better if Lucio had written it out himself. "Yes, Master."
- - - - -
In the end, Lucio had chosen a blue pillow, fat and new. Zenyatta was running his fingers through Lucio's dreads. Lucio's head was against his Master's knee, eyes half opened and glazed looking. Vaguely, he wondered if this was how Gabriel felt when he was kneeling before Lucio- pliant and willing to do anything to make the pleasure continue. That brought his gaze up to the faceplate of the omnic he was kneeling for. Zenyatta was staring down at him and though the metal could not move, he thought he sensed... a great amount of caring from his master.
"Would you like a kiss, dearest pet?" Zenyatta asked.
Lucio sat up, ramrod straight and hungry to feel that faceplace against his lips. A whimper escaped his lips, shamelessly needy. "Master- please-" The pet surged forward and up, long body trying to reach that impossible goal without getting off spot he had been generously gifted. Fortunately, Zenyatta was very understanding of his pet's current predicament. The plates around his abdomen flexed with ease, allowing his body to dip down to meet Lucio half way. And though the omnic had no lips to kiss, no way to open his mouth to allow a tongue to slip in, he did have other ways to make his kisses known.
Lucio groaned as the small electrical current ran through his lips, making his teeth hurt in a really nice way. His tongue burned sensually and he was greedy for more kisses if they felt like the one that he was given. Honestly- it was too bad that the golden jaw didn't hide a tongue underneath. How nice would it be for that tongue to shock him-
The pet howled in pleasure as more shocks stung through his clothing- this time on his sides and chest. Those fingers felt so nice, especially when they ghosted over his nipples. Lucio's fingers scrabbled and found purchase against some of Master's backplates, right where the 'wings' of the shoulders would be on a human. His dick was tenting within his pants and his whimpering was desperate.
"Master- Master-" Over and over again he whimpered. Like a mantra of need.
"Tell me what you need pet," Zenyatta urged gently. "I know my clever, pretty boy can come up with the words he so desperately needs."
"I need- I want-" The words were coming out in a rush, threatening to gag him in a way he couldn't control. His master waited patiently, dragging fingers through his hair once more.
"I need you cock, Master."
"Then you shall have it."
- - - - -
They had stopped long enough to take off clothing. Lucio had teased a bit with his stripping, taking off his shirt, his bulging pants and underwear with a slowness that let Zenyatta huffing in impatience. Zenyatta had to undo the knots holding his pants up, but it was worth it. The omnic had chuckled when Lucio looked at his crotch and saw nothing but smooth plates.
"Dear Pet, I do have a few secrets," was all he said before motioning Lucio to kneel once more. Surely, the pet would like to see how modesty paneling worked up close, yes? The plates moved away slowly to reveal Zenyatta's most intimate of spaces. The slender silver cock was illuminated by teal nodes. All Lucio could see was the gold underside since it was curling towards his abdominal plating in a most fetching matter. Underneath, there was a second place that Lucio had no name for. All he knew was that he wanted to explore the place that too was silver and gold and gleamed so pretty in the light. The teal lights ringed it. Other bits and bobs dipped down inside of it. What was it? Lucio wanted to know. Lucio wanted to explore.
Above him, Zenyatta chuckled- not unkindly. It was full of warmth as a matter of fact. As if he had known this would happen. "Would you care to find out what an intake valve is for, dear one? I give you permission to learn with your tongue and your fingers. Nothing more."
A whine nearly tore at Lucio's throat, but he didn't allow it to come out. Instead he leaned forward, taking a deep breath of the smell that surely should permeate this space. It smelled faintly of oil and lubricant. Pleasant. Better than sweat and musk, in his opinion. Lucio poked his tongue inside the cleft and listened to his master above him huff in pleasure. The rubbery texture felt good- but weird- against the muscle. A few experimental licks allows him to hear a new hum above him. It seems Master was getting excited from this, given that those were his cooling fans kicking on.
Lucio explored the space between Master's legs with a curious tongue and even more curious fingers. The metal of his cock was delicious in his mouth. The rubber of his- vagina, for lack of a better word besides 'intake valve'- was warm and oh so pleasant. The pet noticed the huffing breaths, the whispered praises, the cooling fans kicking up higher and higher as he explored.
"Enough. Lucio, stand for me, please." Ever eager- and quite aware that his own erection needed some care as well- Lucio pulled out his fingers, kissed the underside of that metallic dick and stood. He knew what was coming next. He clambered into Zenyatta's lap, hoping against hope that his Master didn't take him here and now. Despite what most popular porn would have people believe, assholes actually weren't all that lubricated.
Luckily Zenyatta did know. He reached behind Lucio and moaned as he pressed fingers into himself. Lucio for his part whimpered and panted like a dog in heat. It didn't take for slick, metallic fingers found their way past Lucio's ass cheeks and into his rectum. The pet sighed and bucked himself as much as he could into that intrusion. The omnic chuckled. "So impatient..." Lucio whimpered when the fingers were pulled out, only to return with more lube. The fingers came and went in a maddening pattern but Lucio couldn't help but love it. He felt himself stretch so pleasantly but it wasn't enough. The pet- the Brazilian- Lucio wanted more. He needed more.
Finally- finally, the fingers removed themselves and Zenyatta pressed another electric kiss against against the line of Lucio's neck. "Ready, Pet?"
Lucio couldn't say anything. All he could do was throw his arms against the thick cables that held up his Master's neck and nod against the blissfully hot metal.
The gasp that the pet gave when he was finally speared was almost enough to make Zenyatta come then and there. They have to sit still for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of one another. Then one of them begins to move- it didn't matter who. The thrusts were uneven but enthusiastic. Moans came from the pair of them. A mantra was started by Lucio- "Master- Master- Master-" It sounded so sweet to Zenyatta's audials that he couldn't help but be a bit wicked. One hand moved to Lucio's hips while the other meandered in between their stomachs.
@saltygrumpdad Welcome back! This would happen as an addendum to part 2
The Brazilian wasn’t hard to keep up with. Just exhausting.
He was always out the door by five for an hour long session in Training Room 3- mostly to work on his leg and core strength. At six he took a shower. Seven was breakfast with everyone- 76 did not participate in this ritual- and by eight he was making his way through the halls. Lucio always made it a point to check up on each and every single member of Overwatch- bringing food and coffee to Zeigler, making sure that Winston was alright, gently shaking McCree awake when he overslept.
He usually ate at around noon- earliest was ten, latest was three- then another hour training with various members of the team in Training Room 1. 76 was always invited to join. 76 always declined. Lucio never pushed and stopped the others from doing the same.
After dinner- another meal where everyone sat around a table and ate- Lucio went to his room. What he did there was always different. Sometimes he would work on any number of songs, sometimes he would work on his gear. He always spoke aloud to 76 though he never received an answer. At nine, he’d join D.Va to play a video game- it always changed- and by eleven he was safely tucked into bed.
76 always fell asleep soundly after shadowing the audio medic.
The Diva was never up any earlier than two in the afternoon. It irked 76, but he would never say anything. It wasn’t his job to keep her from sleeping in. His job was to gather intel on Overwatch. When- not if, when- Talon came for him, he wanted to paint as accurate a description as possible about the team who had ‘saved’ him.
Once up though, Hana ‘D.Va’ Song was just as energetic as Lucio was. She hung out with the mechanics, speaking in a language he couldn’t understand though he knew she was speaking English. Torbjörn and Bridget understood her perfectly though. They would all chat with each other, watching one or two of the others work on something. One memorable time, they tried making a new turret mounting system for D.Va’s mecha and wound up with silly string all over the workshop.
76 was still confused about exactly how that happened.
After dinner, she went to her room to stream. He listened to her talk to her ‘chat’ about her day, saw her cheer and jeer the ‘other team,’ picked up on her slang. ‘Salty.’ ‘KD ratio.’ ‘Nerf.’ ‘Get Good.’ ‘Ji Ji.’ Watching her, he saw how things were done, what strategies she used to ensure that the people she was fighting against lost.
What he had never expected to be doing was playing the game himself. Someone has asked about ‘that creepy old guy who was always in the background’ and she had a brilliant idea of putting him in front of the camera. She put him on the tutorial mission and chattered away in his ear, telling him what to do.
Within five minutes he was playing against live opponents, beating them handily. His training coupled with a knowledge of how the strategies usually fell amongst his opponents left them in the dirt. Hana had been impressed, so much so she offered to buy him a copy so they could play together.
76 declined, and afterward never appeared while she was streaming.
The Dragon always noticed right away when 76 appeared behind him, a respectful five feet. One blue-brown eye flicked itself in his general direction before he launched himself out of the window, scaling the cliff face like a goat, away from people.
76 would not be allowed to shadow Hanzo Shimada.
The Monk and the Ninja were always together. If they were not, it was usually due to one or the other being away on a mission. They liked to talk to one another, conversing casually as only long acquaintances could. Meditation was always another high priority on their mutual lists. It was boring to watch as they sat for hours doing absolutely nothing. 76 never complained though. It wasn’t his job to complain either.
Training happened thrice a week, usually in Training Room 2. Genji would work through katas while Zenyatta watched. Digital opponents would be trounced. He joined Lucio on the joint training sessions, and organized a separate training session with some of the others. Occasionally, they would watch a movie in the rec room, joined by Zeigler and the Amaris.
Neither of them ever had to eat. 76 always went to bed hungry.
76 had to admit, shadowing the Bastion was never a chore. Far from it- it stayed in one spot all day. Exactly one spot. Unless it was called to help with something.
76 found that he could sleep without the nightmares if he laid in the sun with the omnic nearby, its pet bird chirruping sweetly into his ear.
The Doctor always insisted he get a check up when he shadowed her. Even if she was busy, she would always find time to check up on him.
“You’ve lost weight again. You have been following the diet I’ve given you, ja?”
He always nodded. He did follow it... when his watching permitted him near the kitchens.
“You can speak, Jack. It’s okay for you to say whatever it is you need to say whenever you need to say it.”
He couldn’t understand why she would say something like that. Though the muzzle and the wiring were gone, it was ingrained into him that he couldn’t talk. It was just easier for him to make motions with his body than try and parse out how to speak again. He never understood why she called him ‘Jack.’ He never understood the sad look in her eye.
Watching her was tedious as well. When she did not have patients- a rarity, given how often Overwatch members got themselves hurt- she was on her computer. What she was doing there was a mystery to him, but he never pried. He knew he should, but he never did.
He never understood why he should feel like doing so would be taboo.
The Cowboy liked to style himself as unpredictable. 76 begged to differ.
When there was no mission to gear up for, McCree was lazy. He lounged about all day, ate far too much, and only went to Training Room 1 when he had volunteered himself to do so. He showered inconsistently and slept whenever he felt like it. It was maddening to 76′s mind. Routine consisted of training, training and more training. Punishment when standards weren’t met. Training and more training, until your body was past its limits and then train some more.
McCree’s lifestyle was unacceptable. That was, until a mission came about.
He transformed when given a deadline. He trained regularly, the gun by his side an extension of his arm. The small bit of fat around his middle never truly went away but it did lessen. He stocked up on flash bangs and other needed supplies. He ran his body through simulation after simulation and showered daily.
Once back from the mission, he was even more sluggish than usual. It nearly made 76 want to run him through another mission right afterward. But he had no control over it. All he could do was watch McCree sleep and fume over the still body.
The Scientist didn’t allow him into the laboratories. 76 barely saw Winston at all, unless it was going to or from the weekly meetings which 76 was not allowed at either. He understood why the simian didn’t allow him into those spaces.
Were their positions reversed, 76 would have done the same.
The Sniper had a routine, easy going and predictable. She left her room at seven to have breakfast. She stayed in an psudeo office until noon, knitting or filing paper work or talking with someone else. At noon, she went to cook lunch for herself and her daughter. She always left a plate out for her shadow as well, when he followed her.
The next hour and a half were spent talking with Pharah, catching up on each other’s day. At least- that’s what he had to assume they were speaking of. He didn’t understand Egyptian, which they spoke whenever they were alone with each other or when they needed to communicate ‘in private.’
Until dinner, Ana trained. She trained alone and with the team. And after dinner, her office was open once more, until she went into her room at nine.
At ten, the light finally went out. 76 always whispered a good night, though he had no idea why.
The Falcon- like her mother- had a predictable schedule. Up at four, train four two hours. Shower. Breakfast. More training. Lunch- the only time she took a break for longer than an hour. Training and training. Dinner. One last round of training and another shower.
76 approved of Fareeha Amari. It was interesting to note though that there was one similarity between mother and daughter- they both liked to knit.
The Knight was always too loud. Boisterous, and too noisy. He woke up at six to make way too much in the way of food. Reinhardt touched too much, talked too much. He never did anything by half measures. He always took the shortest path. His laughter was infectious.
76 couldn’t help but smile- just a bit- when Reinhardt laughed. Like the goddamned sun. He found that he could sleep better when he spent time in the Knight’s presence.
The Mechanic had the same problem Winston and Zigler. He didn’t move enough. Sure, he had a garden that he puttered around in, but when he wasn’t doing that, he was sitting down and working on his turret.
76 didn’t understand it. He honestly didn’t understand why this group thought that all of this laziness was okay. Sure, most were actually doing work, but it was wasteful. They could be out there, fighting more, doing more, being more-
Torbjörn grunted, bringing 76 out of his reverie. He was having trouble with a rather heavy part of the turret. Even with the help of the crane above his head, it was difficult for him to move it.
Why not. 76 was there. He helped. It was soothing to watch Lindholt work, after all. It was best if he could do as much as possible so the other could begin tinkering.
The Pilot was a ray of sunshine. Faster than light and just as bright. He couldn’t physically keep up with her. She moved too fast. He couldn’t figure out what she did because she was constantly moving. He could only try to figure out what she did by what the others were saying she did. Not ideal. Not ideal at all.
He hated this. He needed to know what she did. Winston and Hanzo already shut him out. He couldn’t allow her to do so as well.
So he tried and failed. Tried and failed for a week. It was only when someone pointed it out to her that 76 was falling behind was he able to keep up with her. Because she was everywhere. She went everywhere, did everything, as if living enough for three people
76 slept like the dead after following Tracer.
There was one last person 76 had to shadow.
The Solider.
Who was he? What did he do when no one was looking?
He sat. He sat in his room, his cell, his cage.
No one disturbed him. He disturbed no one. He did as he was told. He ate when given food. He followed others, stole paper and pencil, wrote things down, waited.
Talon would come. Talon never forgave. Talon never forgot. They would get their monster and their information and the deaths of all of Overwatch. The Monster would fall in line. There was just no choice.
After being in the ‘care’ of Talon for nearly a year, there were certain things 76 had to get used to again.
A name. He had a name. Even to himself, he had ceased to be ‘Jack Morrison.’ 76 had been all he had known for quite some time. But now the Overwatch scum- no, not scum not scum not scum- insisted he had a name. A life before Talon. Friends and family before he lost himself. His past had been one big blank. Somedays, he could only remember fleeting things- a word here or there in a foreign language, the smell of something both sweet and acidic, a booming laugh and a good natured thump on the back. Other days, he could remember entire conversations, tiny little details that seemed insignificant but weren’t.
An explosion. A best friend dying in his arms as the rubble around them stifled any call for help. At least it was better than the clippings and videos that littered his cell wall when he was just a monster.
76 had freedom. To go- to do what he wanted. They would allow him on the range- with supervision of course, a taciturn Japanese man who preferred a bow over a gun- but he had no interest in guns.
Some days he wandered the halls, shadowing a single person. Peeking in on their life. The Brazillian was a lively boy. The Korean was excitable and dedicated. The doctor and the scientist both stayed in place most of the time, unexciting to watch. The brothers... it was hard to follow them and he never knew when he was allowed to and when he was not. The monk was content to allow him to follow whenever. The Bastion unit stayed outside most of the time. Some days... 76 would lay beside it, stripped to nothing but his briefs, using the jumpsuit that he wore that day as a blanket underneath him and reveled in the freedom of simply being. To feel the sun and the air, to know what the sky looked like, to smell what was on the wind- both good and bad. On those days, he would talk to it, pouring out his grief and begging it to kill him if it looked like he was going to return to old habits. It never said anything back to him. A pity, but it was only a Bastion unit. What did he expect?
Another thing 76 had to get used to... waking up without pain. Moving without pain. When he was with Talon, there was always pain. Pain inflicted by fights, pain inflicted by themselves... there was not a day that went by that he did not ache in some way. Sure, they cleaned out his wounds after a mission, but they never allowed him to have any more healing than that. Everything else was done on his own. But here... there was nothing of that sort. No one touched him unless he touched them first. No one sent him on missions- unless someone needed a hand here or there around the base. And on the rare occasions that he did get hurt, he was fussed over by the doctor- Mercy- Angela- until he was well again.
Three meals a day. He marveled at it. He could have whatever he wanted. The knight- Reinhardt- usually cooked dinner but breakfast was rotated among those who volunteered to do it. Lunch tended to be leftovers and cold things from the refrigerator. Sometimes 76 would pull things out and just... stare at them. In awe. In wonder. Kimchi and pickles, rice and whatever that mess was, mac and cheese and bratwurst and paella and eggs and-
It was enough to make his head spin and eat himself sick. He never trusted that he would be allowed to eat dinner. And yet, without fail, there was always a place at the table for him. Not that 76 ever took it. He took the plate that was always left on the counter for him and ate away from the rest of them. He was not Overwatch. He was not Talon. He wasn’t anything.
