#poor medic

[prajjna]

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[gamemerz69]

Redditors and fake tf2 fans after comparing a traumatized feminine indigenous bavarian guy ethnic cleansing survivor with ptsd, memory loss, and an incredibly sad backstory to a literal psycho nazi who worships the austrian painter:

stop it!!!

he, has, ptsd!!!

[cxdyx]

Working on a new chapter but I took a break to draw my beloved Medic

[lets-try-some-writing]

I don’t remember where I heard it but I remember there being a theory that Knockout used to be a seeker and something happened to him and then he became a car as result because they couldn’t save his wings. Part of his narcissistic tendencies are more a part of him in the earlier days convince himself that it’s fine he doesn’t have wings anymore. And that starscream alluded to them now having the means to get back his wings on the nemese when he asked why knockout was a car.

Idk.

I like the theory though.

I would like to hear your take on it when you have the chance.

I've heard this same theory. I personally don't subscribe to it, but I like it all the same. I will gladly expand upon this little idea, at least a bit.

Clipped Wings

Knockout was originally a helicopter unit, search and rescue to be exact. He enjoyed his function, had no issues with it, and loved flaunting his wings whenever possible. He took great pride in the fact that he was capable of flight, of course it also helped the fliers were held in high esteem, but even so.

Most of his youth was spent gallivanting about, only learning medicine because it was better than being drafted into the army. He had no desire to have a machine gun strapped to his frame, it would ruin his whole aesthetic. And so he took to learning cosmetology and frame reconstruction as his primary fields of interest. And while he didn't know it at the time, it would come in handy later.

Once the war began, Knockout needed to choose sides. And so not having a ton of hope or trust in the Autobots, he joined with the Decepticons. He was immediately drafted as a field medic, a task he didn't enjoy but knew to be necessary if he wanted to climb the ranks and land in a more cushy position. And so he worked hard, flying out into the battlefield and tending to the injured Decepticons he stumbled across as best as he could. However war was brutal and a stay Autobot missile shot Knockout down during a mission. Medics were able to save him, but his wings were completely decimated and his alt-mode made effectively useless. In one fell swoop the thing be prided himself in most was stripped away from him before he could even come to terms with it.

He was shunned after the loss of his wings, his personality being too intolerable and his previous snark coming back to bite him as the Decepticon troops never left him alone. Unable to fly he became an easy target, one that guards looking to pick a fight relentlessly abused. Knockout tolerated it, spending every waking moment not at work on the ground with the other medics studying to try and find a way to return himself to what he considered his 'perfect form'. It was a very dark time for him. He hated himself, his frame, and everyone around him with a passion. In the end he pioneered an alt mode change and altered his T-cog alignment to allow him to take on a ground alt just so that he wouldn't be shunned for being useless anymore.

Even after he adjusted his frame to make it so that he could be an effective Decepticon again, he never forgot the feeling of the wind and the skies. Many a dark cycle he would sit out watching the stars on some cliff or watchtower and shutter his optics just so that he could pretend the air was once again his domain. His scars ached more often than not, and transformation never felt comfortable, almost like he was walking in someone else's frame. He was born for the skies, not the earth. He hated that a foolish war had stripped him of his greatest gift and glory.

He felt like every optic was boring into him at every given moment, staring at the scars he had long seen fit to cover with armor and flamboyant paint. He always felt judged, berated, and useless. And so to compensate he threw himself into his least favorable personality trait to cover everything else up. It was all to protect himself, at least that is what he always muttered to himself in the dead of night. His pleasant traits were locked away where they couldn't be used against him and he played into his narcissism, using it to craft an indominable persona that none dared to tamper with.

It was his defense, his perfect wall to keep others from seeing just how deeply he had been hurt by the loss of his wings.

He hated to admit it, but part of the reason he even associated with Starscream was because the Seeker had what he did not. Starscream had his wings and he understood. Both of them hid their pains behind walls of terrible personality traits. In a way they were the same, and while never voiced, both acknowledged this.

[healthcareguytf2]

Okay, okay.... in the end, who do you think heavy will pick the stunning you or the wilting flora?

... I'm not sure. I don't ZHINK he vill choose delta... But feelings can alvays change. He seems interested in me, but it could be him just being zhe kind, lovely person zhat he is. I HOPE he chooses me... But it isn't looking like zhe case. Delta. I zhink he vill pick delta. *he bows his head a little bit and looks at the ground. His face is blank.*

[arknights-incorrect]

Medic,*knocking on the door*: Zima, open up!

Zima: It all started when I was a kid.

Medic: That’s not what I-

Nearl,*runs into the Medic full force knocking them across the room*: Let her finish!

[coolfireguy73]

What happens if I burn all the bandages on the body, medic face? Hehe...

You die.

Aaaannd you made his face worse than it already was... congrats :/

[purple-heart-x]

Wow, what a one-eighty. I thought you wanted to see Supervillian pay. Wanted to make him pay yourself, in fact? So... didn't you get what you wished for?

Medic chews on that for a bit. He's so tired, the words don't make sense. He rises and pours some coffee, black. He sits and rereads each sentence carefully, trying to form his response.

"Yes, I- I guess I did want to see him pay. He hurt Villain. Kicked him when he was down, 'til Villain almost died. I..." he pauses here. "I didn't want to hurt him myself. I've never wanted to hurt anyone in my life. Even now, I don't plan to kill him. But I did want to see him taken down a peg, maybe humiliated and beaten like Villain was. He always seemed so cold and distant. I just wanted to shake him til he showed some kind of real emotion."

"...He was more than shaken by the fire, though."

He has to reread that last part several times, thinking he read it wrong. His hand clenches the cup so hard that the styrofoam crumples, pouring boiling hot coffee on his hand. He doesn't notice. "No! No, I didn't wish this, I swear. Supervillain... Supervillain is... bad. But I don't- I..." Images of the past float in front of him, and tears start to form in the back of his eyes. "I never wanted this! Not for anyone. Never again."