#mercenary!reader

[mxnixcxx]

"Has anybody ever told you that you look gorgeous with that scowl on your face, Nivans?"

Your voice murmured right beside him, a tiny hint of teasing joy finding itself laced into your words as you studied his profile.

Your head had tilted to get a better look at him while the soldier simply focused at his targets through the scope of his sniper rifle. He didn't bother to answer, at least not at first but you didn't mind.

You've spend enough time around the BSAA's golden boy to have figured out he was as much of a hardass as any other high ranking, well-disciplined soldier you've ever met. But you somehow didn't find it annoying like you did with the others. It's like this impenetrable wall of sheer will and unrelenting focus was pulling you in like the idea of a warm bath after a hard week in the freezing wasteland of Edonia.

Piers on the other hand waited for the order from Redfield through his earpiece, his chest barely moving as he evened out his breathing for the best possible stability.

And yet he couldn't quite figure out why you still stuck with him, especially in this spot. You were a distraction to him. A loud, annoying distraction. Normally he would've snapped at you to leave him alone unless you wanted him to fail the mission, but the way your eyes were focused on him with...whatever kind of feelings were burried in them, he couldn't exactly say 'no'. He had this odd warmth spreading through his chest even for just a flicker of a moment before the reality of the situation kicked back in.

He couldn't do this now. He was on a mission. A very high stakes mission. Not to mention you were a wanted insurgent yourself, you've got countless of his colleagues and friends on your conscious.

"I mean, you've probably heard it from a lot of people but I think you're genuinely beautiful. Like pretty boy beautiful. Kinda like Ken but with brown hair—"

"Would you shut your mouth for five minutes?"

Piers intercepted with a clipped tone, his sudden spike in annoyance was thickening up the air like smoke between the two of you. His gaze remained focused on the targets all the while, he couldn't even be bothered to merely glance at you.

But you understood. Albeit reluctantly. So you snapped your mouth shut and bit down on your next words. Instead you opted to just watch him do his thing, observing how his index finger squeezed the trigger ever so slowly before his chest expanded in a deep breath and fell back about halfway before the shot rung out.

It was like he moved on autopilot. His hand left it's former position on the hand guard to grasp the bolt handle instead and flick it upwards before pulling it back. The empty shell practically launched from the chamber with an audible "clack!" before he shoved it back forward and snapped the handle down. It was a quick, satsifying "click-clack!" sound you would've loved to fall asleep to if this wasn't a dangerous situation to be in.

And the fact he kept his eyes on his objective and angled the rifle to aim at the next J'avo trying to advance? God be genuinely praised for creating a man like Piers Nivans and throwing him into your path.

"Our children would be beautiful forces of nature."

Maybe that comment was stupid and far-fetched but it was the truth. And the fact Piers froze up beside you for a split second before he spared you an incredulous glance from the very corners of his eyes was enough to have you chuckling.

You loved poking this man's every possible nerve.

(I just really love this picture)

[skelswritingcorner]

A Vessel, A Stranger, An Experiment

A/N: This took half a week to write, and is significantly longer. Also, the reader character's canon name is Ailith, but I use Y/N since this is the reader character. She behaves like a stray cat. I mostly consulted tvtropes because the wikis aren't exactly helpful with getting a nail on the bots' personalities. Also, the translator is an idea I took from @tripleglitchwriting's Ignition fics,

This is a partial rewrite of An Unfamiliar Place.

Part 2 can be read here!

Word Count: 3K

Reader character is written with gender-neutral pronouns. POV changes and timeskips are designated with three stars.

Warnings: SFW, mentions of blood and injuries, communication problems, G/T (giant/tiny), mentions of unethical experiments

You knew about your injuries before going on the little ship you called home. It’ll be fine, you remember assuring your most recent client after you got your payment, I know how to mend myself.

Clearly, based on the spike that impaled your torso, you were indeed not. Your client didn’t need to know, you had the money to pay someone to fix you up if you can’t do it yourself. Perks of being a bodyguard for hire; the money makes up for any injuries sustained. At least the cloak hid that from the client; you knew they’d prevent you from leaving the planet if they saw.

You removed your mask and cloak, peeling your gloves off your hands as well as removing your grappling hook, and limped toward the mirror. Shit, you thought to yourself, the injuries are more severe than what you assumed. The spike in your torso was the one you knew about, but there were also bullet holes in your left calf. You checked your sleeves, mostly just small scratches and scrapes. Nothing you couldn’t fix.

Grabbing the medical kit, you went to work. Cleaning the wounds of blood and possible grime, then applying the bandages and wraps. The spike would have to be removed by someone more professional, you need to navigate to the nearest space clinic. Plopping onto the chair, you set the ship to go to the nearest clinic. However, as a precaution, you turned on the emergency signal in case a larger ship with someone more skilled in medicine could help. Hopefully the trip will be quick, and smooth-sailing.

Oh, how much of a fool you were. Oh-so foolish of you. You thought this was going to be anything but a disaster? You fool, you absolute buffoon.

There was a massive ship, you knew it was for something gigantic. How and why did you end up in this situation?! You weren’t sure what to do, so you kept the ship where it was. The ship you were facing was ten miles wide at least, and you might be its target.

Something grabbed the ship. It pulled you closer and closer to the gigantic vessel, until you knew you were inside it. Launching yourself off the chair as fast as you could, you hurriedly fastened your magnetic grappling hook on your right arm and grabbed the smallest weapons you had. No time to grab anything else, you needed to run as soon as you could. You held the handle of one of your smaller blades between your teeth.

Clearly, what was holding you was massive, footsteps jostling both you and your vessel, but eventually the ship you were in was put down somewhere. Once everything went silent, you cautiously opened the front hatch.

The vessel you were in was truly massive. Whatever crew is inside this thing must be members of species ten times larger than you at least. No time to dawdle, though. You needed a place to hide, and with haste.

Using your grappling hook, you descended down to the floor. It gave out midway, however, and you unceremoniously fell. Waves of intense pain overwhelmed you, fortunately the knife in your mouth prevented you from shouting out in pain. You’d check what happened later, though. You needed to find a hiding spot some distance away from your ship.

Holding onto your bloodied side, you scurried to a wall and started searching. Fortunately for you, there were some boxes that were open on its side after a few minutes of sprinting. You used your grappling hook to get to them, and entered one of the boxes. Now all you needed to do was wait. See if the crew is friendly, or if they’re going to kill you. Or if you end up dying from blood loss, which is the most likely option.

✩✩✩

It was Ultra Magnus out of anyone who noticed the object at first, and the blood trails coming outside of it. It’s an organic, and an injured one at that, he thought. Using his comm link, he informed all upon the Lost Light of the injured “intruder.” As they were minibots, Tailgate and Rewind were delegated the responsibility of investigating the interior of said object; see what it was for and if anything about what was inside could be discovered. Fortress Maximus chose himself not to look for the organic, for his size made it difficult for him to detect the source of the blood trails. That, and he didn’t want to squash them, so he checked all the cameras in the ship. Ratchet and First Aid were to prepare a berth, as the blood implied potentially life-threatening injuries. Brainstorm and Perceptor were to prepare some restraints and trapping items, in case said organic was being difficult. Now, to figure out who to find the organic…

Much to his dismay, however, Rodimus declared to find the organic himself. “I’m the captain of this ship,” he argued, “I’m going to search for them!”

Magnus pinched his enstril, a deep sigh coming from his intake. Rodimus has always been stubborn, refusing to heed anyone’s advice and acting without plans. Which, given the potential gravity of this current situation, could be disastrous. “I’d suggest not running off by yourself, Captain. At least bring one other Autobot, two pairs of optics are better than one.”

He could feel Rodimus roll his optics.

“I’ll go with the Captain.” Drift sighed. “I know you don’t trust me, but I’ll do the best that I can.”

Magnus grumbled, “Fine. You go with the Captain. I’ll remain by the object the organic came out of. Based on the size, they shouldn’t be too far off. Follow the red trail, and once you get them, bring them to the medbay.”

✩✩✩

POV: Tailgate and Rewind

When Tailgate and Rewind entered the ship, it was relatively empty, yet had signs of life. The blood on the floor made Tailgate panic a bit, but he carried on with reassurance from Rewind.

There were a few items of note, mostly the mask and cloak on the floor. The mask was birdlike in appearance; midnight blue in color with signs of wear. Mostly scratches. The cloak was a similar shade of blue, and rather bulky. There was a cut on the back of it, with blood around where the cut was.

Tailgate turned on his communicator. “Oh, this is bad.”

“What is it, Tailgate?” Magnus questioned.

“There’s an item on the floor, there’s a deep cut on it and… and I think the organic’s injuries might be way more severe than we think!”

“Ten four. I’ll inform Ratchet and First Aid of this.”

Rewind noticed a container, opening it up to see several weapons. Most of said weapons were blades. “We’re not dealing with just any organic,” he muttered, “this is one that knows how to fight. They could be armed as well.”

Rewind opened his comm link to Rodimus.

Tailgate investigated thoroughly, there could be a bomb on the ship. Every container he opened lacked bombs, however. Replacement parts, some stuff written in an unfamiliar language, and… diagrams?

Tailgate looked at the diagrams more closely. Based on the shape, the form was of a human. There were peculiar additions on the chassis, left bitarlueus, and right side of the midsection. Likely something Perceptor and Brainstorm could figure out.

“I found what looks like a recording device! It seems rather old, but I think it might work.” Rewind’s words broke Tailgate out of his trance, “We should activate our translator modules so we can figure out what it’s saying. Once everyone’s translators are online, I’ll play the recording.”

Once everyone confirmed that their translators were online, Rewind pressed the play button on the device. The words that came out were steel cold.

“If you’re listening to this, you’re on my ship. You’re a sneaky one, ain’t cha? I’ve been given many names; The Masked Merc, The Bodyguard Who Shot That One Guy’s Eye Out, and many other names. You’ll be getting my real identity from my cold, dead corpse. If you’re expectin’ me to cooperate with you if I’m alive, you better be polite about that. I’m willing to throw hands if you try to force anything out of me. I might be a mercenary, but I’m not one to throw hands just for the sake of it.”

The recorded message on the old device ended. The two bots looked at each other, and back at the device.

“Wait, there’s another button next to it.” Rewind pressed the button, and another recording played. The voice this time was much softer, and younger. Likely their first recording.

“Hello. I am Y/N. I’m not sure what I really am in this world, this is my first time experiencing many things. Heh, the consequences of living your first decade of life in a lab, I guess. I doubt I can find my ‘real family’ at this rate, if they even miss me at all. I’m a bodyguard for hire. Rarely need to use my weapons, guess some people find me too scary. Goodbye for now. If you see me, you see me. If you don’t, you don’t.”

Silence.

“So the organic’s a bodyguard. Y/N, huh? Must be a pacifist, from the sounds of it.” Tailgate pondered.

“Or is powerful enough that most don’t even try to challenge them since it means swift deactivation.” Perceptor rebutted through the comm link.

“WE FOUND ‘EM!”

✩✩✩

POV: Rodimus, Drift, and Reader

Once the two reached Ultra Magnus, Tailgate, and Rewind, Drift began checking the blood. “There’s a splatter on the floor here,” he mentioned, “must’ve had a nasty fall before they started finding somewhere to hide.”

Rodimus winced trying to imagine the pain. Why couldn’t the organic stay put until they got help? Weren’t they the one sending out the emergency signal?

“Let’s go find that organic!” Rodimus started walking while looking down at the blood trails, Drift swiftly following.

The two walked slowly, optics scanning for where the blood led towards and listening to their comm links. They heard Tailgate and Rewind’s notes about the organic’s possible injuries, the weapons, and the recordings.

Rodimus noticed a slightly open crate, where the blood trail ended. A squeak from inside was all he needed to justify putting a servos on the crate’s side, and opening it up.

“WE FOUND ‘EM!”

Well, you got caught. Took what you believe is half an hour, but better than dying. You weren’t going to hop onto them instantly though, they might try to kill you. More likely than not, they might not be super cautious. Especially the orange one, they seem like they’ll accidentally manhandle you and make your injuries significantly worse.

Wait, how can you understand them? Are they using a common tongue? You have some handle on certain languages from your years as a mercenary, but you weren’t sure how they knew any of the languages you knew. Nobody mentioned giant sentient robots when talking to you. Actually, they probably did it in whispers since most people are scared of you. Dammit.

The white one tilted their head, “You’re clutching your midsection with your servo. Are you hurt there?”

Well, shit.

You slowly removed your hand from where you were covering your injury. The spike got pushed when you fell, and is currently jutting out from your stomach. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it didn’t end up on the side of the subspace pocket the scientists installed on you, so you can hide that for a little while longer. Your hand, however, was covered in blood.

The orange one held out their hand, or what they called a servo. You did not trust him to handle you gently, and walked further into the crate. They grumbled, something about you being difficult.

“Let me, Rodimus.” The white one held his servo out, “I think they don’t trust you with holding them.”

You approached the servo with caution, touching a digit with your not-super-bloody hand. When they didn’t try to grab you, you slowly crawled onto their open palm. Another squeak of pain came from your lips when your injured leg touched the hand, though.

The servo slowly brought you close to their body, and the one you assume is Rodimus put a servo on the side of their helmet. “Drift’s holding the organic, I’ll go with him to the medbay and have Ratchet look at ‘em.”

“Percy and I will be there too,” another, more younger-sounding voice said, “I think I found something of note.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. What did they find? The medical kit that’s pretty low on supply right now, your sewing kit, or…

They found the files you took with you when you escaped, didn’t they? All those diagrams and logs about your conditions and states, and how your body responded to the implementations. You should’ve kept that in the subspaces, in hindsight.

“Don’t worry,” the one holding you, Drift, comforted, “Ratchet’s a bit grumpy, but he’s one of the best doctors here.”

He’s gonna struggle with the spike since it’s so tiny compared to them. Unless he has some sort of assistant closer to your size, you’re probably gonna be the one to remove it for the doctor.

They started walking, Drift making sure that you were safe, and that you wouldn’t be jostled too much.

You heard a door open, and heard another approach.

“This is the injured organic? The berth is ready, First Aid and I will take care of them.” you assume that was Ratchet.

Drift walked closer to a large metal slab, gently lowering you onto it. A pair of smaller servos held you, lowering you so that you laid supine.

“What’s the thing they’re holding in between their dentas?” the voice from who you infer as being First Aid asked. You removed the switchblade from your mouth without saying a word. With a flick of the wrist, the blade went out, but you then put it back in its original position.

A red servo took the knife away. You wouldn’t need it right now anyway, but they better give it back once they’re done fixing you.

“We should take care of what’s poking out of them first. It’s incredibly tiny though, I doubt my servos can even grab onto it without slipping.” Ratchet prodded around the injury, making you wince.

You sighed, grabbing onto the spike. A growly voice came from your mouth, “I can remove it for you.”

First Aid grabbed onto your bloody hand, “You’re injured! We should be the ones removing it!”

“And you’re literally twice my size,” you rebutted, “I’ve had worse done to me. This is nothing.” You weren’t bluffing either. Those researchers have done worse things to you with their twisted experiments.

Ratched sighed, “They’re probably right. I know it hurts your spark to have a patient removing something that you can, but it seems that they have… experience with removing things from themselves. Clean the wound and stitch it up once they remove the object.”

First Aid looked into your eyes. Despite the plate on their face and visor preventing you from reading his expression, you knew from his tone of voice and body language that he was worried. He reminded you of yourself, in a way. That hyper-empathy that frequently decides to say hello when you least expect it.

“Ready?”

You nodded, slowly pulling the spike out. First Aid held your hand during this, not caring about the blood staining his servos. Comes with the job, you suppose. Once it was removed, a cloth was put over the gaping, bloody hole.

It took a decent amount of time before all injuries were cleaned and stitched up. They also made you digest some kind of liquid that Ratchet claimed to help speed up the healing process. Throughout, you were as obedient as a dog.

During the time the procedure was happening, Drift left. In his place, two other robots were there. First Aid was lifting your upper body so you could sit.

“The patient was rather pleasant, didn’t try fighting me or anything.” Ratchet reported to the red and blue one.

“Eh,” you shrugged, “You spend half your life as a lab rat, you get used to followin’ orders and getting weird things injected into your body.”

Everyone went silent and stared. Some looked confused, others horrified. First Aid stopped.

“Y’all’re lookin at me funny.”

The white and blue bot, who was likely the one who went into your ship, said those six words you remember hearing years ago, “What did they do to you?!”

Not this again.

“Based on those documents,” the red and blue one spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, “many things. I translated all of them. It appears that the patient,” he gestured to you, “was used in experiments to see if subspace entrances could be added to organic bodies for purposes of smuggling items. Clearly, they were successful.”

Welp, cat’s out the bag.

“Do these documents have any information other than that?” First Aid asked, “Where they’re from? Their name? If they have a family?”

You scoffed, “I was taken when I was a baby, as far as I’m concerned I’m an orphan. And I’m confident it’s too late to try and find my biological relatives, if they’re even alive.”

The white and blue bot covered where their mouth would be, “But do you know what planet you’re from? We can start there.”

“The documents say they’re from Earth, and therefore a human. From that recording Tailgate and Rewind found, their name is Y/N.” The taller bot said.

“Thank you, Perceptor. I’ll look over the documents once we clean and sanitize the berth.” Ratchet nodded.

You were exhausted from the chaos of today. Closing your eyes, you quickly fell asleep.

✩✩✩

Ratchet carried the sleeping human to the scanner, looking at the screen as it was scanning.

“There appears to be multiple points of trauma, both new and old. Along with those, signs of experimentation are shown especially on the upper chassis, left bitarlueus, and midsection. The peculiar crescent scar below their tank shall be noted for later questioning.” He noted on his datapad. “For now, it’s best that they rest.”

After the scans finished, he brought the human to a berth meant for the minibots, and sat on a chair nearby to monitor them.

[sassatoru]

MERCENARY | pt. one

pairing. batfam x batsis!reader

warnings. languages death/murder, gun violence

summary. reader is bruce wayne’s unofficial daughter and a mercenary. she doesn’t frequent gotham until she gets paid to kill the joker. next

You ignored the loud noise of the police sirens behind in the distance, you were more focused on the Gotham Knights following you in the distance on the rooftops.

Sure they were on the roof and you were on your bike, but you did have Red Hood on his motorbike following you. You took a sharp left, hoping to lose your tail, but Jason was the one to teach you to drive so of course he'd make the turn. But he lost sight of you.

"Why are we even chasing the Knight?" ah yes your code name, always doing things for justice, a habit you picked up from your father. You only took the jobs that paid well and punished people who deserved it. But the right way, even the jobs that didn't pay properly, you could always convince them to give more. You've done jobs in a lot of places, never in one place for too long, not even Gotham and you've kept off Batman's radar.

They didn't know that it was you in the suit, people called you many names. Angel of death, White Knight, some viewed you a king, even a god, but the one name everyone agreed on was "The Knight". you didn't like it at first but it grew on you.

Back to the chase, you turned into car park, because you weren't stupid you couldn't outrun the Gotham knights, maybe some of them. Besides, the batarang stuck in your thigh was hurting you.

You stopped your bike and got off, sitting on the ground trying to pull the batarang with minimal damage. You heard the sound of several boots hitting the ground and you knew this was definitely the moment they found out it was you.

"Knight" Bruce's gruff Batman voice made you flinch, you knew they wouldn't notice because the mask you wore covered the bottom half of your face and your eyes, any important feature.

"Batman" you tried to mimic his voice, but your voice modulator made it sound deeper and less funny.

All the other bats had surrounded you in case you tried to flee, but other than their footsteps they were quiet.

"Y'know the mask is kinda intimidating" your comment got no reaction from him, until you pulled the batarang out of you leg like it was nothing "Mine's kind off hard to breath in right now" his eyes were fixed on you, you were sure he wasn't blinking. Funny how differently you get treated when they don't know it's you.

You tapped the side of the mask, and the nanites released and formed a nice stylish choker around your neck, (you stole it from Lex Luthor and got a friend to alter it for you).

Soft gasps and curses spread around the room. You looked up at Bruce and smiled, right before passing out.

Oh god what will Alfred think

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[knightakutagawas]

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚ ﾟ. VIGILANTE & MAN-EATER PRESENT: ROAD TRIP TO MURDERVILLE.

* ੈ🩸‧₊˚ chapter one: skin

( i. skin | ii. pocketful of sunshine | iii. two of hearts | iv. disco tits )

— pairing: adrian chase x mercenary!reader

— synopsis: vigilante and man-eater hardly knew each other. hell, they didn't even know each other's real names. they have met a couple times. man-eater collecting bounties on wanted men, only to find adrian chase standing over the dead bodies of the men she was attempting to kill. that’s how all their run ins went. man-eater too late to cash in on her bounties and vigilante always there, waiting for you. it was a game for you two. who could get to the bad guy first?

after man-water missed a half of a million dollars bounty due to vigilante and pure boredom, you came up with a proposition. vigilante and man-eater drive across country, collecting only the highest bounties and split the profit. with peacemaker in prison, adrian had nothing to keep him in evergreen. so began two sociopaths killing (and fucking) their way around america.

— content warnings: smut (unprotected sex, pain kink, degration kink, rough sex, knife play, blood kink, knife kink, masked sex), gore, violence, small mentions of drug usage, swearing. 18+ minors dni.

— authors note: this is part one of a series i’m writing! this is my first time writing smut so if y’all have any tips, send them my way. this is also cross posted on ao3 & wattpad! enjoy <3

* currently revamping the series a little! just some minor editing & layout changes. this chapter has been edited <3

masterlist 🩸 requests

You knew you were too late before you even arrived.

The wooden doors were falling off the hinges and there was a blood trail leading to the bedroom. Crack pipes and various needles were scattered about the house. Your victim was suppose to be a big time crackhead who owed some very powerful people money. You slammed her fist into the broken door. That one was worth 500k. You were going to kill Vigilante.

Vigilante and Man-Eater had this thing. You would try to collect a bounty, and he would always be there right before you arrived, killing them. The first couple times, you let it slide, chalking it up to coincidence, but now— now it is fucking personal.

Your footsteps were muffled by the blood soaked carpet as you stepped into the bedroom, pistol drawn. There was your bounty, dead on the floor surrounded in blood, and Vigilante, covered in blood, sat comfortably on the bed.

"I was waiting for you, wondered if you were ever going to show up. You are pretty late this time, this guy has been dead for at least twenty minutes,” Vigilante said, twirling a knife in his hands.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" You screamed, pulling a knife out of your thigh holster and charging at him. Vigilante was now laid flat on his back on the shitty, cigarette burned bed with a knife to his throat. Man-Eater straddling his thighs, hovering over the masked man. His breaths became heavier and you felt like you could hear his heart beating from here. Man-Eater didn't know if it was due to your overly frustrating day or the fact you hadn't slept in two days, but the man you had spread out beneath you had never looked hotter. It suit him, being beneath you.

"If you wanted to be on top, you could have just asked,” Vigilante spoke and you could just hear the fucking smirk on his lips. His hips bucked against your thigh as you just pressed the knife harder against his throat — turning him on more (and maybe yourself).

"You are one sick fuck. I'm holding a knife to your throat and all you can think about is wanting to fuck me,” You said, licking your lips at the sight of this man writhing underneath you.

"Well, you are really hot and your thigh is pressed directly into my crotch. The knife thing is just a plus," Vigilante moaned out as your thigh pressed harder into his crotch. You knew what you were doing. Maybe out of anger for him taking your kill once again or maybe — maybe you wanted him too.

"Take the fucking mask off,” You calmly stated. Your maroon latex suit had a main zipper down the front that allowed you to slip the costume on with ease. Maybe to tease Vigilante — or turn him on even more, you slowly began to pull the zipper, exposing your black bra underneath.

"You can't see my face. I wear one for a reason,” Vigilante pleaded, eyes directed at the cleavage in front of him. You rolled her eyes and with the tip of the knife, rolled up the bottom of his mask so that his lips were exposed. They were bright pink and wet — they looked so kissable.

Then, you kissed him. You kissed him hard and rough, like you were making a statement with your lips. Like you didn't want to be kissing him, but here you were, making out with a guy you had just threatened to kill. Even with your mouth, Man-Eater was putting up a fight.

After processing the fact he had a beautiful lady on top of him, kissing him, Vigilante finally kissed back. He met you with the same ferocity that you kissed him with. Sloppy, hard, and fast. Tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into one another. It was primal. There was no love in that kiss. Only frustration and lust were to be found in that room.

Vigilante slowly made his way towards the zipper of your suit, and almost like he was teasing you, slowly started to unzip the latex suit even further. He was taking excruciatingly long and, maybe fueled by lust and frustration, you unzipped your entire suit, kicking it on the floor. You were almost naked now, only a bra and underwear covering you now — and Vigilante was dying to rip them off. He pushed your onto the bed and tore the black underwear of your body, and slowly began kissing his way up your legs. Your hands were already on his mask, begging to be gripping hair instead.

"If you don't put that fucking mouth on something useful, I'll fucking cut it off,” You begged as you were writhing in pleasure underneath Vigilante. He moaned when you said that. He fucking moaned at the threat of physical violence against him. He was one perverted motherfucker. He finally placed his mouth between your legs and you swore you found god.

Vigilante began lapping at your cunt, trying to draw you wetter and wetter. Your screams of pleasure filled the empty house — minus the dead body on the floor beside them, and your screams only made him grow harder. His tongue quickened it's pace with each scream you let out. He wanted you begging for you life beneath him. You couldn't take it any longer. You needed to feel him inside of you.

"V. I- I need you inside of me,” You moaned through your words. Vigilante wasted little time unbuckling his pants and slipping himself inside of you. Their moans became one as he entered your tight cunt.

After the first wave of pleasure finished rolling over his body, Vigilante began picking up the pace. Each thrust leaving the mercenary a mess underneath him. Squirming and gripping bedsheets as he bottomed out with each thrust. His mouth found your large breasts and began sucking on your nipples. Your moans became louder, holding onto the back of Vigilantes amour to steady yourself.

He pulled himself off of your breasts, "You are such a fucking whore. Fucking an unnamed guy you don't even know in some crack house." Each word annunciated with a thrust.

"S-says you. You find the first pussy you see and start fucking it. I-I was trying to kill you and it fucking turned you on, you fucking manwhore," You said between each trust, choking back your moans while you spit venom. You weren’t nice about it. What they were doing, wasn't nice.

His hands found themselves around your neck and squeezed, "You haven't even seen my face, but you, I have seen plenty of you. You think that little paint on your face hides your identity, but it doesn't. Yet here you are, taking the cock of a guy you haven't even looked in the eyes."

You moaned as he squeezed tighter around your neck and your hands slowly made way for the knife laying on the bed next to them, "Then take it off."

Vigilante laughed, "And why should I do that? Kind of defeats the point of a secret identity." He was still pounding away at her cunt. His balls slapping against your fragile skin, stinging your raw skin.

Quickly, Man-Eater pulled the knife back to Vigilante's throat, pressing deep enough to cause discomfort, but not enough to actually drawn blood, "Come on, baby. You don't want to look me in the eyes while you fuck me?"

Maybe it was the feeling of the cold metal against his throat, or the way you begged him to take off his mask. But he reached up and pulled the mask off of his head and for the first time, the two made eye contact.

"Now that's a good boy,” You drawled out, the knife pressing deeper into his neck, just begging to break skin. You just began actually notice Vigilantes unmasked face. He was oddly beautiful. He wasn't traditionally gorgeous, but god was he gorgeous to her. His green eyes and the damp curly brown hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead. He looked nerdy and not like a cold blooded killer. Maybe that turned you on more.

In one swift move, you were now flat on your stomach and Vigilante's deep strokes began once again. The knife that was pressed against his throat, thrown across the room and your arms were now pinned behind back. The room echoed with the sounds of the meshing of skin. You arched your back up to deepen the connection.

"Vig, I-I'm going to come!” You screamed out through the sounds of slapping skin.

"M-me too," Vigilante could barely make the words out. He was out of breath and he felt himself slowly beginning to let himself go.

"Vig! Oh-oh! Yes!" The pair release at the same time and you had never felt more pleasure in your life. You had never wanted something more than you did then.

Laid out on your back, you were still trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked like that before — ever. The crack house bedroom no longer smelt like fresh blood and gunpowder. Instead, a humid air lingered along with the smell of sex and swear. Vigilante kept checking his throat to make sure you didn't actually cut him. There was a small knick, nothing major, he'll live. You chuckled at the guy. He seemed majorly neurotic and it was a breath of fresh air. All the men you had even been with or met were arrogant, hot headed and selfish. A selfish man doesn't immediately eat a girl out. Maybe you could grow to stand Vigilante. Enough for let him eat your pussy more often.

"So, what's your name then?" You asked, standing up to grab your clothes scattered across the floor. You found your underwear in the pile of blood. Fuck, you won't be wearing those.

This apparently startled the killer, too preoccupied checking his throat to remember he had another person in the room, "Uh, that is top secret information."

You rolled your eyes and stepped into the latex suit, "I already saw your face, dumbass. Not really top secret information anymore. I was going to offer you a business proposition, but since you don't trust me enough to tell me your name, I guess I won't ask you."

Now intrigued by the offer, Vigilante peaked his head up and turned towards you, "Well, if I were to tell you my name, what would the offer be?"

You sauntered over to the boy, your suit still unzipped to your stomach, "Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to come on a little road trip with me. I have a couple of big bounties lined up across the country, and — not that I need the help — you just seem like you are good at being a bounty hunter. We would split the cash."

Vigilante pondered the question. Well, he already knew his answer, he just wanted to watch Man-Eater nervously play with her cuticles and twitch. A beautiful murder just asked him to travel across the United States for money? Of course he was in. Ever since Peacemaker went to prison, he had been getting increasingly bored of Evergreen. Same petty criminals, same boring job. Until he crossed paths with you. You were sexy, dangerous, mysterious, and hilarious. Watching Man-Eater get angry with him because he killed one of your targets was incredibly funny. Most fun he's had since Peacemaker left.

"Adrian Chase."

You looked up from her hands and locked eyes with the man in front of you. A smile spread across your face and Adrian thought he was staring into the sun. He could get used to that.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Adrian,” The way you said his name. It was breathy and drawn out, almost like a moan. Seduction was definitely one of your strong suits. You reached your hand out and was met with a firm handshake from Adrian.

"So, who are we killing first?" Adrian asked, clipping pieces of his suit back together.

You zipped up the rest of her maroon suit, "Jimmy Rogers. A small time arms dealer in Twin Falls, Idaho. Worth about a 100k."

Adrian nodded, not daring to look away from your eyes, "Well, who's car are we taking?"

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Hi hun,

For your 2k follower challenge can I request a soft dark Billy Russo? I’m thinking they are agents from opposite companies hired to take out the other but he decides to keep her. Little does he know she is just as sinister and has the same idea. 😏 Some smut 💜

Oh my darling. I love you so much. You are one of the strongest and most resilient people I have ever met, real life and online. You also remain so kind and so positive. I don't know how you do it and I hope only happy days for you. I took a few liberties with your request, but I hope you enjoy this. 💗

My drabble requests for my 2K Follower Celebration is closed. Thank you for everyone who sent me some love.

Summary: Billy receives a job to take out a woman, but finds himself biting off more than he can chew.

Pairings: Billy Russo x Mercenary!Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Smut content ahead.

Word Count: 1.4K (Drabble)

One Shots Masterlist | Full Masterlist

As far as meet cutes went, it was fairly standard. Boy sees girl from across a crowded room and they're eyes meet. Sparks fly. The attraction is undeniable. They are naturally drawn to each other. There was a pull to become closer.

So they did.

Closer to each other they went until they were face to face, their elbows touching as they leaned against the busy bar and the noise of the party faded into the background. They couldn’t take their eyes off each other, smiling and making excuses to touch the other as they flirted. Standard romcom material. Ordinary.

Except neither of them were ordinary.

Assessing each other went beyond just sexual interest. Billy Russo was brazen with how he looked you over, raking his dark eyes over your form from head to foot and noting the small details. You wore a simple black dress with matching heels, formal as what the occasion called for but it clung to your body and emphasized the beauty of your stature. He noticed that you wore no jewelry, not even a watch. Nothing flashy. Nothing to draw attention to you and yet your presence was so commanding. There was a quiet confidence to you that was alluring and an effortless elegance that meant you were more than comfortable at this party hosted by one of his business associates. You blended in so well.

Billy was impressed.

You were just as forward with your scrutiny of him. Handsome obviously, ruggedly so but with a clear importance placed on his image. The black suit was tailor fit to him. Arrogant and entitled, but the rough edges in his personality that he couldn't hide gave away the fact that he had to work hard for what he has. The fluid motion of his hands and fingers as he gestured while he talked and picked up his glass told you he was skilled.

You wonder what else his hands were skilled at.

As the conversation flowed, you both unconsciously leaned closer until your faces were inches away. Close enough that you noticed the imperfection on his nose and the enviable thickness of his lashes. Close enough that you could smell the whisky on his breath and the mint he had chewed. Close enough that both your gazes were no longer locked but instead focused on each other's lips, your nerves tingling with anticipation.

"Will you kiss me, Russo?"

"Is that what you want, beautiful?"

"Yes."

"Is that all you want?"

Now your eyes travel back up away from his lips to meet his, your face breaking out into a slow grin at the sight of his mischievous smirk that held many unspoken filthy promises. You bit your bottom lip and shook your head slowly.

"It's a start."

You fell in a tangle of limbs into one of the hotel lounge’s ornate bathrooms, far enough from the party that you didn’t have to worry about anyone interrupting but near enough to satisfy the urgent need to have him inside you. The door was kicked shut and hopefully locked, the noise from the party muffled and overpowered by the sound of sloppy kisses and impatient sighs. You didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing you.

And you were surely going to be making some noise.

Billy was just as vocal, groaning as he lifted you onto the counter and positioned himself between your thighs while he continued to ravage your mouth. He could feel the wet heat of your cunt through his dress pants and his cock throbbed with need. He would have wanted to taste every inch of your delectable body, take his time licking your cunt until your thighs shook around his head and you were drenching his chin with your release. You would have liked to suck him dry, have him begging you as he unraveled in your mouth.

Another time.

Right now the inferno of lust that was burning through you both needed to be sated. He hurriedly unbuckled his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his beautiful long cock. You rushed to hike up your skirt, haphazardly pulling your panties to the side and hooking your knees up on his slim waist. It was a chorus of loud relieved moaning and curses as he slid into you, filling you and stretching you but still leaving you to want more.

And more is what he gave you.

The pace he set was aggressive from the start, pounding into your cunt with the sole focus of getting you both off. It felt so good inside you, so hot and tight as if you were made just for him. The lewd squelching from each hard thrust bounced against the bathroom tiles and the smell of sex was thick in the air. Billy grabbed your neck, pressed his forehead to yours, and bore his dark eyes into you. He squeezed your throat and the small smile of pleasure you gave in response almost made him lose it right then.

"Fucking cum for me. Cum all over my cock like a good girl."

With your head thrown back and your back arched, your lips parted to scream your release as you shuddered. You came hard on his cock, gushing and clenching down as he fucked you through it.

"Yes. Fuck, yeah, that's it."

Goddamn, you were gorgeous and you felt so good. It didn't take long after for him to be cumming inside you, burying his face in your neck as he spilled inside you with a strangled growl. He pushed himself deeper inside you, holding you close and making sure you took every drop from his cock. No words were exchanged for a while, only the sound of labored breathing broke the silence.

He stared at the image of the two of you entwined in the mirror as he trailed lazy kisses along the column of your throat. It was a shame that you fit so perfectly in his arms. It was a shame that you were the best cunt he's fucked in a long while.

It was a shame he had to kill you.

The order was clear. Kill by whatever means necessary. It just so happened that his means were a bit more fun. You were a commission from a high profile client and he was paying Billy a hell of a lot of money to have you dead. It was a shame, but maybe he didn't have to kill you right now. Maybe he could have a bit more fun before he cashed in on the bounty. the devilish smirk grew on his lips as a plan began to formulate in his mind. Carefully, he began to reach for the gun hidden under the suit jacket he had discarded on the counter behind you.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

It was a whisper in his ear that made him freeze and a cold fear traveled down his spine. There was something in the taunting lilt of your voice that set all of his alarms off. As if to punctuate your threat, he felt the sharp pointed edge of a blade press onto his side. He didn't even notice you taking out the knife. Where the hell did you even keep it?

You kept your legs around his waist, pushing his cock to slide against your walls and despite himself he felt his dick twitch back to life. He cautiously reared his head back, careful to keep his expression neutral but the dangerous and cocky look on yours kept him on edge. Nothing in the dossier he was given clued him in on any of this. Who the hell were you?

"Sorry, pretty boy," you said, kissing his lips with an eerie softness. "But I'm getting paid a lot more to stay alive."

There was no warning. Your hands moved with such swift brutality. Billy felt the pain only as he stumbled back, clutching the hilt of the knife now impaled in his midsection. His clothes were quickly stained in crimson. He fell to the floor, his legs unusually weak and wobbly. He stared up at you, watching as you nonchalantly fixed your appearance. He noted the syringe you placed down on the counter. You had drugged him. That explains it.

"Now I gotta kill that employer of yours. I wasn't gonna, but he was stupid enough to pull a stunt like this. I gotta return the favor. Purely based on principle."

You shrugged, smirking a little as you saw him struggle with consciousness. His eyes were already going out of focus. You grabbed your small purse and began to make your way to the door, checking your makeup one last time in the mirror.

"Don't worry. I'll come back for you," you grinned down at him, your hand on the doorknob. "I still wanna ride that pretty face of yours."

[teaspacebar]

guarded soul part i: chipped

summary: you didn’t think the man with the pretty brown eyes and white hair was anything more than a bodyguard the night you met him. he thought the same of you. you never expected to meet him again - with his clone squadron in tow. turns out your lives were more different than you thought. takes place in the ‘war of hearts’ universe.

pairing: salem (clone oc) x jinx (mercenary!reader)

warnings: smut (18+), salem and reader being sassy bitches

words: 2.3k+

beta: @ambereyesandwine​

taglist (open): @abovethyfold​ @obiorbenkenobi​ 

masterlist

a/n: a big thanks to @karasong​ for helping me figure out the logistics of this and for letting me fangirl about my own clone oc’s endlessly. and a big thanks to my beta - and love of my life - for letting me hover over her shoulder as she read the first smut i’ve written in a while.

***

Salem wouldn’t consider himself a hopeless romantic. He wouldn’t consider him a romantic at all. Salem didn’t have time for romance – he was too busy keeping his brothers from getting into bar fights. Although, let’s be honest, if his boys got into a fight, he’d probably jump right in.

But right now, his mind was occupied with a multitude of thoughts surrounding an individual.

“Salem, we’re leaving before Flare starts to believe that he can drink Fives under the table!” Ziggy had an arm around the red-headed clone, who was barely keeping himself on his feet.

“Alright, gimme a minute.” Salem ran a hand through his hair, internally reminding himself that he needed to get some more bleach – his roots had started to show more than he liked. The sniper used his eagle-eyes to spot Maverick heading in his direction.

“Leaving?” Salem gave a single nod in response.

“You stayin’?” Another nod. Maverick and Salem were excellent at communicating with little to no words. It made it easier for them in the battlefield. And in bars that were filled with a bunch of rowdy clones.

Salem made his way out of 79’s, Phys joining his side. Outside, Salem quickly spotted his brothers talking to a few women off to the side.

“Salem! I was just talking about you to these wonderful ladies here!” Yep. Flare was definitely drunk. “This guy can take down anything with his sniper – he modded it himself!”

Salem held back a groan as the medic chuckled next to him, “He’s trying to get you laid.”

“Not interested,” Salem muttered.

“Salem! Come ‘ere!” Flare was waving the sniper over as Ziggy apologized profusely to the women – who were in various states of amusement. Salem relented, walking behind Phys who had already started in that direction. As he joined the group, one of the women squinted her eyes at him.

“Wait a second – I know you.”

A look of recognition crossed Salem’s face – it was you.

-

“Don’t like stuck up politicians either, huh?”

Salem glanced in your direction as you came up beside him. You were just a bit too close for comfort, and it put him on edge. You weren’t in a fancy dress which meant you weren’t one of the ‘stuck up politicians’ you had mentioned.

“You’re a bodyguard?”

Silence.

“So, you’re the quiet, grumpy type, I get it.” That finally garnered a glare from the clone. You grinned in response, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Gotcha.” Salem rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back to the middle of the ballroom. “You look familiar, have we met?”

Salem tensed. You couldn’t have recognized him; his face was covered - from the nose down - with his mask. His hair was bordering the lines of breaking regulation, and he had enough body mods to differentiate him from his brothers. “Not my usual hunting ground,” he responded casually, keeping his voice low.

You hummed a response, “A shame, with pretty eyes like that.”

-

“I knew you looked familiar!” Salem would have thought you were proud of yourself if you didn’t look so…angry. “Of course, a pretty boy like you would be with the Republic.”

“Always are, Jinx.” A smaller girl from the group chimed in, her green hair reflecting the light.

“That’s your name?” Salem quirked a brow.

You crossed your arms, “Better than Salem.”

The green-haired girl spoke up again, “She’s the boss. Her real name isn’t Jinx.”

“Thank you, Vega,” you shot a look at the girl, before turning back to the boys.

“You know each other already?” Phys spoke up from beside him.

You smirked, “We met at one of those fancy events where the food portions are tiny. Looked into his eyes and I just knew he was the one for me.” Ziggy snorted, using the hand that wasn’t holding Flare up to cover his mouth. Salem bristled, and he could tell you were enjoying it. Two taxis pulled up to the side of the street at the same time.

“Ride’s here!” The group of women that were with you piled into one, the girl you had called Vega poking her head out, “You coming, boss?”

Your eyes never left Salem’s, “I have some business to take care of, I’ll catch a ride later.” The other girls seemed to take the hint, pulling Vega into the taxi before it flew off. Salem was ready to make his escape. His walls came up around him, attempting to find safety in the isolation. He darted toward the other taxi, only for you to call out to him. “In case you weren’t aware, you’re the business I was talking about.”

Cue snorts from all three of the boys this time.

Realizing that the only way out of this was to either embarrass himself by jumping into the taxi or to go along with what you said, he grumbled, “Fine.”

-

You were annoying.

And you hadn’t left his side all night.

“So, who’s side are you here for? Separatist? Republic?”

“Does it matter?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Most people say it does.”

Touché. He had his own opinion on the matter, but it would give him away too easily. And if anyone found out that there was a clone undercover in the middle of a politically neutral event it would cause too many problems. The idea of being anything else but a soldier – or the idea of a world without the war – was something that Salem buried down to eventually deal with at a later date.

“…what about you?”

“Oh, I’m not on either side, I’m just a hired bodyguard for the evening.” Salem pushed away his curiosity. It made sense. You didn’t seem to care what people thought of you, and you seemed indifferent to what was going on around you.

-

“Are ya’ going to talk or are we just gonna stand here?”

He had followed you to another bar – it was quieter, less crowded. He got a few looks from the patrons, but they left him alone.

“You don’t look like your average clone.”

“You don’t look like a bounty hunter.”

You scoffed, “I’m not a bounty hunter. I’m a mercenary – there’s a difference.”

“Right.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, chin in your hand, “I don’t kill people for credits, Salem. Me and my girls, we help the ‘little people’. The people that the Republic and Separatists ignore.” Salem frowned at your explanation. The urge to defend himself rose, his walls shaking in irritation. “I know that helping people is your goal, but I don’t think that the Republic has done anything more than balance the scales. It’s nothing against you and the rest of the boys in the GAR, I just can’t believe in a party that thinks the war is the only solution.” Your voice had softened, and Salem could feel the passion in your tone.

“You were a bodyguard for a politician,” he pointed out. He wasn’t looking to argue with you; he just wanted to understand your reasoning of your work.

He didn’t know why he wanted to understand, but he did.

Your laugh was genuine, “I still have to make money somehow, pretty boy. Good deeds don’t pay, unfortunately.”

-

“Shit, shit, SHIT!” You continued to curse as you pulled two blasters from holsters on either side of your thighs. “Pretty boy!” You tossed a blaster in his direction, Salem catching it with ease. He had his own blaster strapped to his hip, hidden underneath his jacket. You had been faster, quick to take cover behind a table you had tipped onto its side.

The first shot had rung out just a couple minutes earlier, a Separatist senator dead on the ground. It seemed like other people had the same idea, weapons being pulled by most of those attending. Salem scoured the room in search for Pip. He had no luck, but instead saw Senator Amidala behind a pillar. He spared another look at you.

“If you have somewhere to be, then go!” You seemed able enough to take care of yourself, and so he ran off in the direction of the Senator.

-

Salem hated to admit it, but you were growing on him.

Maybe it was the ease in which you said what was on your mind. Or the mischief that was always ever present in your eyes.

Or maybe it was the way you kissed him like he was the best drink you’ve had in your life.

Your laugh separated your lips from his, “Am I not keeping your attention, pretty boy?”

“Distractin’ me is more like it.”

You grinned, pushing him onto his back, “I can stop, if you’d like.”

Salem groaned when you straddled him, “Not a chance.” You kissed up his chest, paying attention to the scars littered across his body. When you reached his lips, you hovered above them, smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. “Tease.”

“Name’s Jinx…but thank you.” You pressed a bruising kiss to his lips, heat bubbling up between you. You rocked your hips, brushing up against the hardness that was beneath his pants. A soft moan escaped your lips as you attempted to create more friction.

You were gorgeous above him.

Salem had his experiences with women – and a few men – but none were like this.

You pulled away to tug at the waistband of his pants, “These need to go.” Salem moved with an urgency that sent you into laughter again, but you were soon distracted by the hard length that presented itself to you. You hummed in appreciation, fingers running across his length.

Salem gasped, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as your touches turned into you pumping his cock. Your pupils were blown wide, lips parted as you stared down at him. “Kriff,” he slipped his hands beneath your shirt, pulling at your waist as he tried to keep himself from bucking his hips.

You pulled your hand away from him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before leaving the bed so you could shed the clothes you were wearing. You sent him a wink as he gazed at you. You bounded back over to him, letting him pull you back on top of him. “Fancy seeing you here.” He could tell that you were about the chuckle at your own words, so he grabbed your hips and bucked his own against yours.

You glared at him playfully, but continued to grind your core against him, “Rude.”

“Definitely,” he breathed.

You nipped at his neck, arousal building as his cock brushed against your soaked core. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as he slid into you. Salem let out a groan, rutting his hips up into yours as you rode him. He felt his orgasm creep up on him faster than he expected. He cursed out loud, rolling over so you were the one on your back. The new angle had you keening, hands reaching up to tug on his hair. The slight pulse of pain only spurred him on, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Salem, fuck–” He ran a hand down your side, brushing it across your stomach and down to your core, caressing that little bundle of nerves. You tightened around him, nails digging into his shoulders as you arched your back. You lifted your head up slightly, and Salem obeyed your silent plea, kissing you harshly. He bit your lip, tugging on it before diving back in for more.

There was nothing soft about it, but it wouldn’t have made sense if it were.

You coming undone beneath him sent Salem soaring seconds after you. His face was buried in your neck, arms at an angle as he tried not to place all his weight on top of you. A couple of minutes passed before he made to move, pulling out of you slowly and rolling over so he was on the left side of your bed.

Salem was debating whether he should leave when you got up from the bed. You lowered the lights and entered the refresher. He heard water running for a moment, then the pad of your feet heading in his direction. Salem squinted, barely able to make out your form in the dimly lit room. You sat on the edge of the bed, holding out a cup to him, “Water?”

He stared at the cup like you had grown an extra limb, “What?”

“It’s good to hydrate, pretty boy, drink up.” He took the cup from you and sat up a little in the bed. You were staring at him with an amused expression.

“What?”

You hummed, “Oh, nothing, just admiring the view.” You took the empty cup from him when he was done drinking, “Feel free to wash up and sleep, I have some work to do. It’s probably one of the only times you’ll sleep in a bed as soft as this one.” Your words weren’t directed at him, if anything, they were the gentlest words you had spoken to him since he had met you. You reached over to ruffle his hair before leaving him alone in the bedroom.

-

Salem entering the barracks before breakfast that next morning was the highlight of the Juno Squadron’s week.

“You got laid,” Phys commented, looking up at him from the book he was reading. It was an old one, not even on a Datapad.

A crow of cheers came from Bailey, Flare, and Ziggy.

“About time somebody pulled that stick outta’ your ass,” Flare grinned wolfishly.

Salem rolled his eyes, “Can we not talk about this?”

“Oh no,” Volts replied, “we’re talking about it.”

“Leave him alone, boys,” Maverick said as he walked in. “Or else the stick might crawl back in.”

There was a ‘ping’ on his Datapad, but the guffaws from the rest of the team was enough cover for him to check it without being pestered.

Hope you slept well. See you next time, pretty boy.

And a crack in the wall was formed.

[skelswritingcorner]

A Body So Stubborn (Mercenary! Reader fic Pt. 3)

Barely winning against making the TFP bots learn about the horrors of endometriosis, it's the 3rd part to my First Contact AU fic (though it barely feels like one anymore). I ended up splitting this into two parts because this is like 5 pages in the Google Doc.

Warnings/Tags: Injuries, blood, hospitals, mentions of unethical experiments, Megatron experiencing remorse for something he had no actual involvement in, mentions of dead parental figures, Prowl shows up I guess

Word Count: 2050

The third part is finally here! I was going to draw something for it, but I'm currently working on my 2.0 model (Vtubing stuff) so I pushed that off to the side.

“So,” the Cybertronian on the screen tilted his head, “you found a human in a solar system that, as far as our knowledge, has no humans on it?”

“Until now,” Ultra Magnus replied, “according to the files, she was brought to this place at eighteen months old, therefore her connection to her species is nonexistent. She appears to be the only human who’s lived here for any large period of time.”

“There are, however, a group of humans currently on the local planet right now. According to Skids, they’re here to help establish an interspecies alliance. Along with that,” Ultra Magnus showed his datapad; two similar human women on the screen were shown in separate images, “one of the humans of the group appears to have a strong physical resemblance to the one we found. Not only that, she claims that her sister was abducted at eighteen months old twenty years ago.”

“Interesting,” his blue optics flickered, “it’s too similar a connection to be a coincidence. Is Ailith on the Lost Light? I’d like to see her condition for myself.”

“First Aid brought her to the clinic her ship’s coordinates were originally at, Prowl. Once she’s back, I’ll contact you again.”

“Very well. Goodbye for now.” The video feed of the officer ended, and Ultra Magnus sighed. Did he expect to have a human on board the Lost Light? Not at all. However, this is an injured human, and as he was the one who realized that there was an injured organic on board, he felt the slightest feeling of responsibility over her despite never actually seeing her in person.

Ultra Magnus walked out of the communication room, seeing the Co-Captains talking amongst themselves. Once they noticed the officer, they turned to him.

“What did Prowl say?” Megatron asked.

“He’s not sure about how and why a human would be here prior to any intergalactic relations being established. He also wanted to see her for himself, but she’s at the clinic right now. That, and I don’t know how she’d feel around him of all ‘Bots.”

Rodimus laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, as long as we tell her first. It’s not like Ailith can fight in her current state.”

“I doubt that, Captain.” Magnus rebutted, “She’s adapted quickly to her current situation. Too quickly, if you ask me. Along with that, the planet she lives on has weapons designed to defeat Cybertronians. I’m confident that she has at least one weapon in her arsenal that she can use to defeat us if she truly wants to.”

“I know about those weapons.” Megatron said, Rodimus slowly turning with a horrified look. “I remember sending a team to this planet some thirty years prior because of potential energon deposits. The people used the remains of one of the ‘Cons I sent to reverse engineer weapons and other equipment that gave them an advantage. In fact, this might be the cause of Ailith’s subspaces as well. They could’ve tried creating subspaces, and tried to implement them on organic creatures. Including those from Earth.”

“Are you implying that it might be your fault for what happened to Ailith?” Rodimus asked.

“Who else could be to blame?”

“Let’s not dwell on that for too long, Captains.” Ultra Magnus looked at the datapad, “You didn’t know about the experiments until now, correct? Then it’s likely she doesn’t know either. First Aid said that Ailith’s been cleared to return to the Lost Light for recovery, so when she comes back you can ask her.”

“Do we have instructions on what to do?” Megatron asked.

“According to First Aid, it’s best to keep her from doing anything too strenuous. This includes training and combat. Along with that, she can only walk short distances. Her stitches are to remain for fourteen cycles total. Two cycles have passed, so that makes it twelve. As long as she doesn’t strain herself too much, she’ll be alright.” Magnus informed them.

“But who should she be with while she’s recovering? She’s smaller than Tailgate, literally half his height!” Rodimus asked.

“First Aid’s been taking care of her all this time, correct? Why not make a temporary space in his habsuite for her so he can make sure she’s recovering without complications?” Megatron suggested.

“That makes sense. As he’s one of the medics, he can treat her quickly if she gets injured.” Ultra Magnus agreed. “According to Drift and Ratchet, he’s been non-stop worrying over Ailith. It should be reassuring to him if she’s nearby.”

“Hmm…” Rodimus frowned, “Fine. Tell First Aid, and ask Skids and Velocity to get some stuff for her before we get back, I doubt we have anything right now to make sure she can have a smooth recovery.”

“I already asked them, Rodimus. They should be gathering some items right now with the help of someone that might be Ailith’s twin sister.”

“Great! I’m going to talk to Ratchet now. We’ll talk again later.” Rodimus turned on his heel and left the other two mechs standing there.

✩✩✩

The cycle in the hospital came and went. And now, you need to return to the Lost Light for the rest of your recovery. You would’ve protested if it wasn’t Aunt Daule who said that. Instead, you just sighed.

“So, I'm going to spend twenty or more days with them as I recover?” you asked.

Aunt Daule nodded. You understood that the clinic was pretty busy, so if they could they would have anyone who can recover outside the clinic so they can have space for those whose conditions are more severe, they would.

“Welp,” you slapped your knees, “I guess I’ll be stuck with that lot for a while. I’m fine with that though, I need to learn more about them in case I need to defeat a Cybertronian.”

Daule chuckled. “You talk just like your guardian. I remember hearing her many exploits back when they tried to take over our planet and failed, mostly when she charged in without hesitation. She’d use her magnetic grappling hook and a blade, get close to an exposed cable and slice it open. I’m glad to see you’ve inherited her fighting spirit.”

Both faces went solemn. Such goes the usual conversations whenever anyone brings up your first guardian. “It’s been almost five years, hasn’t it? Thirty-five more days until the anniversary.”

“Do you plan on going to her memorial?” you asked.

“Of course. I am, after all, Salva’s sister. It wouldn’t make sense for me to not visit the grave of a family member once in a while.” Aunt Daule answered.

“But that’s in more than a month. For now,” Aunt Daule patted your head, “make sure to focus on recovering. No straining yourself, alright?”

You nodded, and with your aunt’s arms as support you walked to the waiting room. You made sure to hold onto the box Makayla gifted you.

First Aid was already there, along with Tailgate. You walked to them, albeit with a slight limp.

“What are you holding?” Tailgate asked.

“It’s something from her sister.” First Aid answered for you.

“Did you meet her?” he asked again.

“She only came to drop off an injured friend the cycle before First Aid brought Ailith here.” Aunt Daule replied, “We did genetic testing, and they’re almost completely identical. After the testing she gave me the box Ailith is holding right now.”

Tailgate seemed fascinated. Do cybertronians have siblings, or is that an unfamiliar concept to them?

“Regardless of that, here,” Daule gave First Aid a document, “these are the instructions that should help with assisting Ailith in her recovery. She has a copy too, stored in her subspace.”

You nodded at what Aunt Daule said.

“We’ll return in twelve cycles, Dr. Daule!” First Aid said, picking you up. At this point, you’re used to being held by him. Aunt Daule waved, and the three of you departed.

Entering the pod, First Aid set you in a place that was relatively stable for you to sit down. While he piloted the pod back, Tailgate looked over at you.

“What’s in that box? You’ve been holding onto it this whole time.” he asked.

“Stuff from my twin that she asked Aunt Daule to give me. There’s a few pictures, including one of my niece who I just found out exists.” you replied, “Other than that, there’s some clothes.”

Tailgate tilted his head. “A niece?”

“The daughter of a sibling. In my case, my niece is the daughter of my older sister, Chloe MacArthur. I’m not sure if Cybertronians know about the concept of siblings, though.”

“Ooooooh,” Tailgate nodded, “sometimes sparks split in two. That’s the closest we have to siblings. Those are almost identical though.”

So, they sometimes have twins. Identical twins, just like you and Makayla.

“When we get back, I’ll show you the pictures.” you promised.

The pod slowed to a stop, and the door opened. Ratchet and… a cyan Cybertronian? He had red eyes and accents. His helmet was black, with two horn-adjacent finials extending out from the sides.

“Fortress Maximus,” First Aid exclaimed, “I’m surprised that you’re here!” He picked you up as well, placing you on the Cybertronian equivalent of his right shoulder blade before walking up to the two larger mechs.

“You must be Ailith,” the cyan mech put a hand over his chest, “I’m Fortress Maximus. The others informed me of your condition. I’m surprised you even survived the injuries Ratchet informed me that you have.”

You shrugged, “Eh. I’ve been operated on without painkillers and fully conscious. A few slashes and bullets aren’t that bad.”

Oops, you overshared. Fortress Maximus AND Ratchet are looking at you in horror. First Aid tensed up.

“Out of all things you could’ve said… Wait, you were fully conscious? Wouldn’t that hurt?”

Fuck it. You did this to yourself, nothing to hide now. “No shit it hurt! I still have the memory of seeing my intestines on hooks while they put that thing inside me, and when they put the subspaces on my body. As they did for all the other experiments.”

“That’s horrible!” If Cybertronians could cry, Tailgate would be doing that right now. “I can’t believe that anyone would do that, especially to a child!”

“Anyway,” Ratchet spoke before anyone could say anything, “First Aid, the captains assigned her to your habsuite so her recovery can be monitored closely. Skids and Velocity acquired some items to make sure Ailith’s comfortable.”

First Aid nodded, “I’ll bring her to my habsuite, then.” And so, he walked past the two taller mechs.

He’s been holding you for a while now, should you say something? It’s probably better to say something.

“You know you don’t have to carry me everywhere, right?” you asked him.

First Aid’s vocalizer choked, “I- You’re just small, that’s all! Most of the ‘Bots might not realize you’re there since you’re so tiny! Also, you’re still recovering from your wounds. Dr. Daule said that you shouldn’t walk too much as the leg wound recovers, right?”

“Touche.” You felt his grip on your thigh tighten slightly, as if he’s doubling down on keeping you right where you were. It’s understandable though, organic species compared to hulking machines are so delicate, especially those with injuries or preexisting medical conditions.

The rest of the walk was done in silence, which was fine with you. Talking isn’t exactly your best skill, after all. After First Aid went to his habsuite, he placed you on the desk that didn’t have much on it, but that’s something that you didn’t really care about. There were a few soft blankets and a few pillows, likely things the two others Ratchet mentioned. What were their names again? Velocity and… Skids?

Why is that name familiar? You swear that you knew someone who was called Skids. Your caretaker mentioned a large mechanical being with that name who helped save you from that facility, transporting you both to Aunt Daule so you could get treated. You’re pretty sure you bled on him, is he mad about it?

Oh well, it can’t be helped. You’ll find out after you sleep. Cautiously crawling into the blanket pile, you wrapped one of them around you before laying down. “I’m going to bed, see you later.”

First Aid nodded, “Please rest well.”

[skelswritingcorner]

A Question, A Scar-Covered Body, A Sister?

Part 2 of A Stranger, A Vessel, An Experiment! Read the first part here.

Synopsis: After the incident on the Lost Light, First Aid brings Ailith (canon name of reader characters) to her original destination of the clinic.. However, there was a gift waiting for her when they arrived. Angst galore.

She/Her pronouns are now used when referring to the reader character.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: SFW, Mentions of blood, mentioned kidnapping, mentions of unethical experimentation, probably some other stuff

(Edit: I forgot to turn some layers back on when I originally saved the image oop- It's fixed now)

Before the story…

It was a broadcast from Earth, of an interview with a black-haired woman. “Miss Makayla MacArthur,” the interviewer asked, “what motivated you to join the Intergalactic Negotiations Program?”

Makayla sighed, “Twenty something years ago, my twin got abducted. They were alien creatures, and they took her. I strongly believe that she’s still alive out there. This is the best opportunity I have to find her.”

The interviewer’s face softened, “I’m sorry that happened to you, Makayla. What will you do when you find her?”

“It depends. Will we realize that we’re sisters when we meet? I’ll try to bring her back to Earth, even if it’s for a brief moment. She doesn’t know about our niece! A family reunion would be in order. We’ll have so much to catch up on.” She put her hands in a steeple.

“Do you have something you plan on giving her?”

“Well…” Makayla sighed, “I plan on giving her a box and a letter. I won’t refer to her by name though.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, it’s been twenty years! I don’t think my sister remembers it, so I don’t want to call her something she won’t recognize.”

The interviewer leaned forward, “What else will be in the box?”

Makayla started counting on her fingers, “A few photos, and clothes. We’re identical twins, so what fits me is probably gonna fit her.”

The interview went on for another twenty minutes, and eventually concluded. The blue-visored Cybertronian finished recording the interview. He had a feeling that this could be relevant.

✩✩✩

“So,” Ultra Magnus looked at Rodimus, “the small object was in fact, a ship. Is that correct?”

Rodimus nodded, “And it had a human inside it, who is currently in the medbay recovering from her injuries.”

“Along with that,” he scrolled through the datapad, “there were documents about experiments, most likely performed on her. Ratchet did a scan that confirmed this as well, along with other various injuries.”

Rodimus gave the datapad to Magnus, who looked at the report. He tilted his helm. “What’s with this thing slightly above the pelvis?” He pointed a digit at a white shape around the pelvic area, overlapped by a crescent-shaped trauma area.

“Beats me. I’m pretty confident that it’s deep inside her.” Rodimus shrugged.

“Maybe there’s another document we haven’t gotten yet explaining it. Hidden in a more obscure place.”

“That’s probably the case. Anyway,” Rodimus stood up, “I’m gonna go ask Ratchet about Y/N’s condition. If Megatron is confused, explain the situation if he hasn’t gotten one yet. Also, inform the others on Cybertron.” He didn’t wait for an answer, simply leaving the office and walking to the medbay.

The doors to the medbay opened, and Rodimus saw a familiar gray figure.

“Megatron?!”

✩✩✩

When you woke up, the helms of several people were looking down at you. One you recognized as Perceptor, another being Drift, but there were a few unfamiliar faces. One had an orange face with yellow eyes with a mask covering his mouth, another that was white and purple and had horns coming from their forehead, a blue one with a single yellow optic, and a gray one with red optics.

“So this is the human you all have been speaking of?” The gray one asked.

“How in Primus are they so small?!” The blue one asked. Loudly. Making you get up and give them a stink eye, even if it caused you a bit of pain.

A chuckle to your left distracts you, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to crowd around someone that’s injured.”

The blue one rolled his eye, “Whatever you say, eyebrows.”

The doors opened, and someone entered the medbay.

“Megatron?!” Rodimus yelled.

Oh. You know that name. Other mercenaries have warned you about a giant robot with that name. If you caught his eye, you were doomed. After all, the group he led destroyed the homelands of several mercenaries you knew.

“Perceptor explained everything to me,” Megatron said, “I just had to see for myself. Humans usually aren’t present in this solar system.”

“Well,” you cracked your knuckles, “I haven’t seen any humans other than myself during my travels. Also, most of the people who hire me don’t know either. I like to keep my identity… well-hidden from the masses. I barely know who I am anyway, so it’s easy to do that.”

“You don’t even know yourself?” Ah, the purple one is speaking now.

“It’s hyperbole, but technically true,” you rolled up the sleeve of your left arm, “I don’t know my family, my ancestry, or any way to return to my birth planet. All I know is that I was experimented on to be sold as a smuggler. That, and the skills I acquired after years of being a mercenary.”

The purple one put a clawed servo on his chin. “Tailgate told me as such.”

Rodimus walked up to you. “How did you even end up like that, anyway? The injuries, not the… subspace thingies.”

You sighed. Might as well explain it now. “It was when I was doing a job,” you explained, “I got myself hurt pretty badly, but my client didn’t get a scratch. They tried to have me go to a clinic nearby after the job was done, but I told them that I’d be alright.”

“Why did you do that, though?” Drift’s optical ridge furrowed, “Your client knew you got hurt, why didn’t you heed their advice?”

“The moment I receive my payments in full, the contract ends. They are no longer my client, and therefore no longer obligated to show concern about my wellbeing.” you growled out the last part.

“You should’ve listened to them, though.” You sighed at that comment.

“As I said earlier, I was experimented on,” you justified yourself, “if I went to another clinic, they’d essentially keep me captive and do a bunch of tests on me. That, and I don’t know if any of them are connected to the experiments and will try to bring me back to that wretched place. And I’d rather not have to deal with them again.”

“Why do you go to one specific clinic, then?” The purple one asked.

“Cyclonus, I think that might be too-” you cut off Drift from saying anything more.

“It’s because the sister of the mercenary who took me in works there. The people there were the first to treat me with empathy, despite me being so difficult to them the first time. All the other clinics I’ve been to, they’ve been too scared of me and think I’ll mangle them.”

They’re all looking at you.

The blue one laughed, “You, scary? You’re not scary at all!”

“I think that’s when she’s wearing her mask and cloak, Whirl.” Drift said. You nodded, confirming his guess.

“Anyway,” Rodimus ordered, “let’s give the human some privacy. Perceptor, Brainstorm, you both plan on asking her about the documents that have been translated, right?”

“Correct.”

“I’ll leave you two to it then.” Rodimus left the medbay, followed by most of the others. Perceptor and the one with the yellow eyes stayed. That must be Brainstorm.

Perceptor took out a datapad, looking over at some data. “I’ve looked through all of the documents, along with Ratchet’s scans of you. I’d like you to confirm some things.”

“Go ahead.” You gestured.

“According to these documents, you’re from Earth. Do you have any memories of that planet?”

You shook your head. No shit you didn’t remember anything, you were a year old! “Some species don’t have memories until they’re a few years old. I was taken at roughly eighteen months old, way too young to form memories.”

“That’s strange. We Cybertronians remember everything from when we were first created, excluding amnesia.”

Perceptor wrote something on the datapad before asking another question, “Were your eyes originally golden?”

“Nope. I’ve read those documents multiple times, my eyes were originally brown.”

“Isn’t gold also the color of the subspace openings on your body?”

Well, damn. “Yes? It was also the case for the other experiments.”

“Now, a third question. Do you know what this thing is?” Perceptor pointed to the intrusion shown on the datapad.

Right. That. The documents explaining it are in the subspace on your left arm as far as you recall. As it was inside your uterus, however, it’s something very few know about. And you’d rather not explain to a bunch of mechanical beings something you only know the basics of.

“I think that’s none of your business, Perceptor.” you crossed your arms. They likely don’t have ultrasounds on the Lost Light anyway, so it’ll be hard for them to find out.

The mech grumbled. “You’re making this difficult for yourself, Y/N.”

“Explain why you want to know what it is so bad then.” You stared directly into his optics, “Because it’s pretty fuckin personal. And don’t just say ‘I need to know for scientific reasons’ either. You better have a good justification.”

“Because it might be a dangerous object that could kill you, and may need to be removed.” Perceptor justified.

You scoffed. Based on the documents you stole, it just prevents fertility and menstruation until removed. Prevents uterine lining from building up. All the uterus-having subjects (or an organ with similar functions), including yourself, had it implanted once puberty was entered. So far, there’s been no complications.

“I’ve had it for twelve years and it hasn’t killed me yet.”

“How has it not-”

Laughter. You and Perceptor looked at the source: Brainstorm laughing his ass off.

He composed himself, “Sorry, sorry. It’s just the way you two are bickering. I’m confident that the object is medical in nature. It’s meant to prevent pregnancies, correct?”

Right on the money. “Surprised to hear you figured it out without cutting me open to check, but you are indeed correct.” you put your hands on your hips.

“So I am right!” Brainstorm smiled with his eyes. “Also, can you show us how the subspace works? Are you able to pull something out?”

Say no more. You put a hand in the subspace on your left arm, pulling out a mechanical object. Something you won after a bet.

“That’s… an optic. An actual optic. How did you get this?” Perceptor asked.

“I got it after winning a bet.” you replied.

“What kind of bet would lead you to owning a Cybertronian optic?”

“Drinking contest. I don’t know why they even placed the bet in the first place, it’s common knowledge that no matter how much I drink I physically can’t get drunk. I’ve tried several times.”

Brainstorm chuckled, “If you could even consume highgrade, Swerve would love you as a customer. It would be a good experiment if you could.”

“That would be one of the few experiments I’d consent to,” you chuckled, “once my injuries have finished recovering, that is.”

Oh. You just remembered. “I just realized that I should probably go to that clinic. I lost a good amount of blood, I might need a blood transfusion.” you grimaced.

“That makes sense. I believe Ratchet and First Aid were communicating with someone at the clinic you mentioned. You had the coordinates set on your ship’s navigator, correct?” You nodded at Perceptor’s question.

“It’s possible that holoforms may need to be used to get you there,” he commented, “I don’t know how large the facility is.”

“It’s pretty big, actually.” you replied, “I’m probably their smallest regular patient, which makes some things a bit difficult to do. Most rooms are about four times my height. I’m sure at least one of y’all can fit without feeling cramped.”

Well, at least the smaller ones. Probably First Aid.

“I’ll inform Ratchet, then.” Perceptor nodded, then left the medbay. Brainstorm quickly followed.

You’re gonna need a plan. Your main grappling hook was taken from you while you were asleep, and those two likely have it. You have spares, yes, but you’d rather have all of them in case one breaks. You also need to find where your ship is, as most of your supplies are still inside along with your spare clothes. What you’re wearing right now is bloody, and you’d like to wear something that is not covered in your own blood. The magnet boots should help when dealing with the Cybertronians and navigating the vessel.

Along with that, you need to figure out how to deal with them if any try to kill you. The blasters in the subspaces should work at least a little, but do you have any weapons that can give you an advantage? You have cable cutters, but that will only work if their cables are exposed. Can any of your blades cut through their armor? If you’re able to, you might need to see if any weapon dealers around these parts have anything that can give you the ability to fight them. Trying to sneak away for long enough to get them is another story entirely, though.

The door opened. Ratchet and First Aid walked in, with First Aid beelining to you. “We established a connection to the clinic!” he exclaimed, “When we told them about you and your injuries, they told us to bring you there as soon as we can. Also, apparently there’s something for you there? They said it’s best if they tell you about it when you arrive.”

“As long as you can get me to my ship so I can change out of these blood-covered clothes.” you said. It’s likely the best way for you to figure out where your ship went if they can bring you to it.

“The ship’s probably with Nautica, she wanted to check it out. I’ll escort you there.” First Aid picked you up with a delicate grip, likely to prevent accidentally hurting you. Given the strange condition of your body, however, you’re probably gonna end up dislocating a joint before he harms you.

Entering the room, you saw a purple and yellow Cybertronian. Most likely Nautica.

“Hey there! That must be the owner of this ship, right?” She reached a servo to you, “I’m Nautica. Nice to finally meet you!”

You couldn’t do a proper handshake with Nautica, so you just held her pointer finger and shook it.

“I’d like to enter my ship to get something. Is that alright with you?” you asked.

“Of course! I made sure to clean the blood where I could. Had to use my holoform to do that, though. Here, I’ll carry you to it.” she picked you up gently, transferring you to the entrance of your ship.

“Thank yo- ack!” you stumbled, quickly being caught by Nautica.

“Be careful!” she exclaimed.

First Aid grabbed you. You didn’t know how he got up to where you were so quickly, but before you knew it he was holding you up. “I’ll help Y/N. It’s probably a bad idea to let her be alone for a long period of time with her blood loss anyway.”

Oh, this might get uncomfortable fast. You were fine with First Aid seeing you all battered up and bloody, but the concept of him watching as you got changed made your stomach flip. And you’d rather not show your tits and bits to someone you’ve only known for a single solar cycle.

Before you could protest, though, he carried you to your ship. While he did put you down on your feet, he waited a bit before letting go. He even followed you to your quarters, where you hastily grabbed a crop top and a pair of pants. You’d grab a jacket after changing. When he tried to follow you into the bathroom, you put a hand over his chassis. “You’re not going in here. I don’t know how y’all view nudity, but for us we usually don’t do that around people we’ve only met for a day.”

“Oh!” First Aid backed up, “Sorry about that. Nurse instincts, I guess.”

You walked in, closing the door behind you. There’s no windows in the bathroom, so he couldn’t peek even if he tried. You knew he had innocent intentions, nothing perverted or anything, but you needed some time to yourself.

Quickly removing your blood-stained clothes, you ran some water and used a cloth to clean some dried blood off your body. After cleaning what you could, you put on the clean clothes. You’d usually not wear a crop top, but at this point you didn’t care. You had a jacket anyway.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, holding a hand over the stitches. Despite Ratchet being significantly bigger, the stitches were done expertly. You looked at all your old scars, and at the subspace entrances on your body. Never were a fan of looking at ‘em, it always reminded you of the fact that you’ve been mutilated. Not enough to be unrecognizable as a living being, but enough that people would stare if they knew. It’s why you covered yourself entirely. Strangers have no right to know what’s going on with your body after all, why should they look at it? Of course, you couldn’t do that with the ones on this vessel; they all know. Might as well not hide it.

Walking out the bathroom, First Aid was just standing there. At least he didn’t try anything, that was reassuring. You went back to where your jacket was, back turned to him.

“What’s that purple and blue thing on your back?” he asked. An innocent question.

Shit.

You always knew that you bruised easily, most likely a consequence of a condition you have but don’t know the actual name of, but you didn’t expect that the fall from yesterday would bruise you.

“It’s a bruise. I don’t know why, but it’s pretty easy for me to get bruised. It’s an organic thing, it takes a few days to heal. Don’t worry though, as long as I’m careful it won’t hurt.” you explained, putting on your jacket. “I’m ready now, let’s go to the clinic.”

First Aid picked you up, being mindful of your back. Nautica helped the both of you down, but not without making a comment about the fact that he was holding you.

“That worried? You’re holding her like she’s made of glass.” Nautica commented.

“Y/N’s still my patient, and is still recovering!” he countered, “Also, humans are way more fragile than Cybertronians! It makes sense to be careful!”

Oh, if he knew about how roughly you’ve been tossed around in fights. Or how roughly you’re often treated in general. In fact, being treated so softly was unfamiliar to you, but a welcome unfamiliarity. How they’re gonna freak out if they pop a limb out its socket if that happens will be priceless when it happens.

The both of you walked, well, technically just First Aid since he was carrying you, to a smaller ship docked in the vessel.

Why is Rodimus there?

“Hey, Captain!” First Aid greeted the orange mech, who was waiting by the smaller vessel.

“Yo! I wanted to get here before you two left. How’s Y/N’s condition?”

“The usual. I did experience some blood loss, so I might be at the clinic for a solar cycle or two. That, and I’d like this injury to be documented with them.” you replied.

“Also, there’s a nasty blue and purple spot on her back that she says is fine but I’m not sure if it is.” First Aid added. If you could, you would’ve covered his mouth. You couldn’t though, so you gave him a stink eye. Fucking snitch.

Rodimus took a bit to reply, “Oh. I’m neither a medic nor an expert on humans, so I’m not going to try reassuring you.”

“Aaaaanyway,” Rodimus started walking away, “Mags needs me for a meeting since Y/N is probably going to have not much choice in staying on the Lost Light with those injuries. Something something ‘We need to inform the officials on Cybertron about the organic on the ship.’ See you two later!”

You looked up at First Aid, “Who’s Mags?”

“Ultra Magnus. He was the one who noticed your ship and the blood coming out of it, surprisingly. Best not to call him Mags though, something about shortening a senior officer’s name being an offense.”

You understood that. A lot of people in important positions don’t like having nicknames, likely because it makes them appear less threatening if they accept a nickname. It’s something you’ve weaponized when doing non-bodyguard work, but the people here don’t need to know that.

When you and First Aid entered the ship, the coordinates were already set. First Aid placed you near the navigator, making sure that you wouldn’t fall.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Luckily, the ride was rather smooth and quiet. Neither of you said anything until the vessel docked.

“We’re here, I’ll carry you to the entrance.” First Aid picked you up, and carried you there.

✩✩✩

“Welcome! What’s the purpose of your- Y/N?!” the receptionist jumped up from her seat, walking up to the both of you.

“What happened? Why are you being held by a Cybertronian?!”

“Y/N was injured badly, a spike impaled her, a cut on her back, and what I think is a bullet hole in her right cadulen.” First Aid explained. “We didn’t know that her ship was the one sending an emergency signal at first. We patched her up as best we could, but she mentioned needing a blood transfusion since she lost a good amount of blood.”

The explanation eased the receptionist. “That’s good. I’m glad that she’s alright. I’ll inform the doctors right away.”

Using her communicator, she informed the doctors on call. After a minute, an all familiar face walked up.

She was a being with four yellow eyes and light red skin, with tendrils coming from her skull neatly tied behind her. Relatively human, but still noticeably not. This is the one person who you consider family right now; Doctor Daule. You call her Aunt Daule, however.

One set of arms held a datapad, with the other set crossed in front of her. She had to look up to see you.

“Eirii told me. Are you able to walk?” she asked.

“Oh! Sorry,” First Aid set you down, making sure that you could stand before letting you go, “She stumbled some time ago, so I thought it was best if I carried her. I’m also a little uneasy about transferring my patient.”

“Don’t worry,” Daule smiled, “I’ve known Y/N for years. You can trust her with me. Besides, a group of humans just came by last solar cycle. I took a DNA sample from one that looks a lot like her, and she gave me something to give to Y/N.”

Wait, someone that looks a lot like you? You’ll have to ask later. Aunt Daule supported you with her right arms. “You’re also a medical professional, correct? You can come with me, I have some questions for you.”

First Aid followed the both of you. Aunt Daule walked you into a room where the IV was just finished being prepared, setting you down on the bed. As a nurse prepared your arm for the IV, you asked a few questions.

“You said someone that looked like me was here, right? Do you know their name?” you asked.

“She said her name’s Makayla.” Daule answered.

“Is she still here?”

Daule shook her head, “No, she left the same day she came. Makes sense though, she had to bring her injured colleague to us. She wanted to stay in case you came by, but her Captain needed her somewhere else.”

Oh. Guess reuniting with family needs to wait.

“You mentioned getting her DNA, is there a match? Do you need another saliva sample? I haven’t eaten anything in the past solar cycle, so I should be fine on that.”

“It matched pretty quickly, said there was almost no genetic deviations between either of you too. Anyway,” she walked over to pat you on the head, “I’m going to talk with him for a bit,” she gestured to First Aid, “the nurses will check you out. I’ll be back soon.”

They both left, leaving you with the whir of machines and the feeling of lightheadedness slowly leaving your body as the blood dripped into you.

✩✩✩

The two walked into an office. Daule sat down in the chair. “We should introduce ourselves. I’m Dr. Daule, I mostly take care of the smaller species at this facility. I was also Y/N’s caretaker for some time.”

First Aid nodded, “I’m First Aid. Currently stationed on the Lost Light as the Chief Medical Officer-in-training.”

“You’re a medic, that’s good. That means some of these concepts should be somewhat familiar to you. But first,” she put her top hands in a steeple, “how did you end up finding her? From my knowledge, Cybertronians are not only rare around these parts, but also one of the largest species in the universe.”

“We noticed an emergency signal coming from a vessel, and one of the people captured what turned out to be her ship and put it somewhere. Eventually, the second in command noticed that the entrance was open and that there was a blood trail leading out. I was with the CMO preparing the medbay. We were able to take care of her, but as I’m not that familiar with organic biology, I had a feeling that it would be best to bring her to people who can actually treat her.” First Aid answered.

“I’m glad that you found her and did all you could. In fact, I think it might be best if she stays with you until she’s fully healed.”

The mech stalled, “Why do you say that? It’s likely best if she stays here, right?”

“Well,” Dr. Daule grimaced, “there’s been a recent incident that’s making our clinic a little bit packed. Y/N doesn’t need to be here for too long, probably just a cycle or two then have her return to get the stitches out in fourteen cycles. Besides, she needs to socialize more.”

“Oh! That makes sense. Just give me the care instructions, I’ll inform everyone once I get back on the ship. It’s best if we all know so we can prevent Y/N from being reckless.” First Aid nodded.

“Once the nurses come back and tell me what’s going on, I’ll write a care plan. Make sure she doesn’t do anything strenuous, the stitches might break." She said, “Also, there was no dressing on the stitches, so we’re going to add some. I’d rather not have the stitches redone if possible, they’ve been done rather well.”

“Anyway,” Dr. Daule got up and walked to the door after grabbing a box, “I’m going to check on her. This is what her sister asked me to give her. Follow me.”

✩✩✩

The nurses did plenty of checks on you, along with putting dressing on the stitches. After some time, Aunt Daule and First Aid returned. There was a blue box held in her lower arms.

“What’s with the box?” you asked.

Aunt Daule brought the box to you. “Your sister brought this to us. Said this was for you, in case you were alive. I know it feels weird to get something from someone you haven’t known since infancy, but try not to think about it too much, Y/N.”

You opened the box, opening the letter. It was in the language the planet you were raised on spoke.

My dear sister,

How long has it been since you were taken from home? Twenty years? We couldn’t even hold our heads up back then, and now it’s possible for us to meet again at a bar and drink together. I miss you so much and I’ve known you for so little. It’s ironic in a way; identical twins who won’t even recognize each other. You’ve shaped my life in so many ways. Even as you were declared dead, I never stopped searching for you. I’d look up at the night sky and wave, imagining you waving back at me. I went into astronomy, learned all I could about the world beyond Earth, with the thought of meeting you again.

I joined a space exploration program for the possibility of seeing you again. I knew you were somewhere out there. If you’re reading this, then I was right all along.

I know the possibility of you being alive is slim, but if you are, I’d like you to have these. The clothes you have might look weird on Earth, right? I bought some and washed them for you. I don’t know what style you like, so I mostly went with simple solid-colored stuff. Mostly black. I feel like you’d like black.

On the back of this letter are some coordinates and addresses. These are the places mom, dad, and I live. And our big sister too! I can’t wait for you to meet our niece. When we meet again, tell me your name, okay? I want to address you properly.

Your long-lost twin,

Makayla MacArthur

P.S. We have a weird gene that makes it so we can’t get drunk no matter how much alcohol we drink. You might’ve figured that out already, though.

Opening the box, the first thing you saw was a picture of a little girl next to two swaddled-up infants. The girl had black hair and brown eyes. Two pieces of paper had names, and the one on the right simply said ‘When you tell us your name again.’

It was you. You and your sisters. Another photo, far more recent, was of an older woman holding a child. The note on that said, ‘It’s our niece! Hope you don’t mind Chloe using your old name for her middle name.’

There was a third picture, with who you believe is Makayla, in a night blue uniform. She looks almost exactly like you, without all the experiments and scars. Brown eyes instead of your golden colored irises.

You thought you were a lost cause. That nobody would be looking for you on Earth. Oh, Makayla, how she proved you so, so wrong.

MacArthur. MacArthur. Y/N MacArthur. It’s going to take getting used to having a family name. An identity beyond being an experiment.

“Also, apparently the elasticity of your skin and flexibility isn’t normal for humans. According to your sister, it’s because of a condition called Ehler-Danlos Syndrome. I’ll explain some of the other things she explained once your scars are healed.” Daule added. “I’ll write up a care plan for you. You’ll be staying on the vessel that found you until you’re fully recovered.”

Honestly? You’re fine with that. The people on the Lost Light have all been kind to you so far, especially First Aid. Kinder than most people from the planet you’ve lived on for your whole life, despite knowing nothing about you.

“That’s fine with me.”

“Well then. Rest up, you’re gonna need it Y/N.”