Ratchet*Coming into his class*Alright, you fragging gremlins, so it's time for...Ugh-primus...Human Sex Ed
Autobots*Gasps and they all cheer*YEEEEEEEEEEEAH!?WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE
Random bot: Frag yeah bro!
Ratchet SHUT THE FRAG UP!!-Now if you all can't tell...I do not want to do this, so our resident human is gonna teach this one....hehe- Have fun~*Goes to pull a chair off in the corner of the classroom, allowing you to use his desk*
Liason!Y/n*Smilling at the bots in front of you*Hey guys!~Welcome to the most important class of your life~
Megatron*Feels dread for some reason, spots Ratchet seems a little too happy at you taking over* Oh my primus...
Whirl*Excited all of a sudden*Oh, this gonna be lit
Liason!Y/n*Walked back and forth but not breaking eye contact with the bots and smiles at class*Who can tell me the MOST important rule of intercourse?
Swerve*Raises his hand*Oh oh! Real MECHs get consent!
Liason!Y/n*Smiles proudly at him*Very good~Also foreplay is key
Red Alert*Looks at Ratchet*I uh-Sir, is this the best idea?
Ratchet*Drinking Energon wine all of a sudden with a smirk*Probably not...But it is the funniest~
Liason!Y/n: Now we need a volunteer!~
Rung*Slouching down with a whisper, for once begging to not be noticed*Please...no
Liason!Y/n*Points at the Minibot enthusiastically*RUUUNG!Please come up to the screen!
Crew Members:...who?-
Liason!Y/n: And point out the SEVEN erogenous zones!
The class is DEADLY quiet till they all whisper in shock, and some even say, "There's NO way these tiny cuties got seven!?-"
Rung*Clenches derma and points with dimmed optics*....1.....2....-
Ravage*Pointing at the board* Don't forget that one right there
Rung: HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS!?
Ravage: Don't worry about it
Ratchet*Watching from the sidelines*Oop-Hound passed out...HAHAHAAH~*Start to drink wine*
Let ratchet and the rest of medbots enjoy watching this go downhill, cuz if THEY had to learn what goes on a human's body...so do the rest of these gooners-
Soundwave making his kids take turns acting as your service animal pal
this is so delightful lmfaoo
⚝・┆genderless reader, gender not mentioned.
: ̗̀➛ Ravage takes it in stride, finding it easy to move with you. He has no issue with simply taking the command given by Soundwave to carry out, to check your vitals where and how he can, to keep track of your movements.
: ̗̀➛ Ravage finds it so easy that sometimes he simply slips into doing so without realizing that's what he's doing. It's natural and expected. It's also one of the least demanding tasks he has.
: ̗̀➛ Laserbeak finds it equal parts difficult and easy. Easy because he can take the order the same as Ravage, simply moving into it. Difficult because, well... he isn't exactly made to carry and it is not as easy to configure carrying you the way it is for Ravage.
: ̗̀➛ Sometimes he will outright refuse, but it is not because he hates you or doing it for you, though sometimes he has some resentment to it. You should take care of yourself. No, most of the time it is because logistically he is not the one made to help you.
: ̗̀➛ Buzzsaw just won't. He'd rather take the punishment than be responsible for some squishy little organic lifeform. He is actively hostile towards you sometimes. Soundwave has stopped asking and actively keeps him away from you.
: ̗̀➛ Rumble and Frenzy are there own beast. Chaotic and all over the place. They get it done, they are helpful, the know what they're doing. They are asking you about a thousand different questions. Frenzy has told you about at least 8 different Cybertronian ecosystems. He isn't correct. You don't know that. It is delightful.
: ̗̀➛ Sometimes it seems more like they're working together to actively make everything worse. And then the hardest part of your day is gone by and you didn't even notice. You have to ignore their shit eating grins.
: ̗̀➛ They find the difference of their day fun and move to make it as chaotic and wild as possible and it's not even for you, it just works out that way.
: ̗̀➛ All of them tend to take it in stride, though some, like Buzzsaw, would rather take the opportunity to kill you out right. Some even grow to enjoy it, like Ravage and, while for completely different reasons, Rumble and Frenzy.
: ̗̀➛ Most of them eventually begin to look at you more like part of the family than a task or annoyance, though that doesn't mean you aren't an annoyance to them. It's just different kind of annoyance with you now.
: ̗̀➛ This also means they become fiercely protective of you. They're small themselves, it's easy for them to see where you become a danger to yourself, such as under ped. After a few "coincidental accidents" that just happen to have Rumble and Frenzy hanging around, more people are aware of you and them around you.
You find an "automatic" tank busted in the middle of the night, and as the good millitar Mechanic that you are, you fix it.
Or, the Decepticons don't have a trained doctor(yet), and you just volunteered as a substitute by their leaders' logic and standards
"Optimus Prime!?" Megatron roars as he paces around the main hagar
"Energon operation: half a failure" Soundwave speaks, holding with his hands Ravage, the feline minicon struggling to keep awake, bleeding energon "Base location: still secured"
"But by an inch Soundwave! By an inch! Have not one of you thought of calling for backup?!"
"It's not our fault that speedy here thought he could take on the Prime alone!" Rumble says gesturing to the Reflector trio and points accusatory at Skywarp
"You should keep your mouth shut! I didn't thought nothing!" The purple seeker stomps to were the minicon is and treatens to squash him
The purple bot jumps out of the way "oh yeah?! I remember you saying it would be an easy win!"
"You also said that! Don't play dumber than you already are!"
"You are stupid!"
"Silence!" A blast came between the arguing bots, both promptly shut up and formed position "what was your designed mission?"
"... locate Energon signature close by... sir" both answered quietly
"And once found, what was to be done?"
"Report"
"And what did you do?"
"... not... that?"
"You engaged in direct combat with the leader of the autobots! Exactly! Very good! And on top of that he chased you both for miles on miles because someone didn't check if they had been followed! Look what a briliant plan you two made"
As the tyrant voice grew in anger, Rumble hid behind Skywarp and the seeker started to frantically look around and coil in himself
"If it weren't for Thundercrackers patrol you both would have been captured or dead" He vents, a thin line of smoke floating around his helm "Starscream..."
The purple robots finally relax, Skywarp kicks Rumble "get off"
The red seeker vents to himself, and joins the middle of the hagar, preparing himself to what is to come, typical of the tyrant "yes Lord Mega-"
Megatron grabs the seeker firmilly by the troat "get your seeker under protocol"
He releases the flyer, and turns to Soundwave "get Ravage to the medical wing, and after, have a talk with your caccette"
"Yes Lord Megatron" the spy comander walks out, Rumble running behind him
The tell tale sound of a roar made the silver tyrant look up, Thundercracker has arrived and with him, you
....................................
The base was intact, for good or worse, you sigh, in relief of still being in a relative close place to familiar locations, if only you knew which direction the city was... Thundercracker made circles and circles before setting in a true route, making the travel double the leght than it should be, and making your anxiety worse
Entering the base was not better, the tension in everyone was clear as day, Frenzy ditched you, running pass Megatron and the seekers to who knows were, you step with caution, not sure if you even know wich direction is the medical wing... At least you hope you are supposed to stay there anyway...
You see three minicons, almost identical to each other, entering different paths, one notices you and waves, you wave back. Besides the silver tank, there was a purple and black seeker, being scolded relentlessly by the red one, Starscream you think was his name, something about recklessness and knowing ones place... ah, just like your job, feels like home already
Your name is called, and you are not the only one who jumps in attention, for a moment, silence reins in the makeshift hagar of the Decepticon base as Megatrons voice booms "you are required in the medical wing, go quickly"
You salute as reflex "yes sir"
And runs to the nearest hall "The other one human"
And imediatly you back away from said hall and runs to it's nearest counterpart, this time no-one calls you back
Are you panicking? Sure, was it because the life of a killing robot was in the line? Probably, did you know what you are supposed to do if push comes to shove? Fuck no, you don't, but your life is on the line, because, you bet all your hard earned money in this hypothesis, if this new patient dies you will go with it, so fake it till we make it
You miss your bed already
Finding the only frame without a door was easy enough, and as you push the heavy cloth out of the way to see who you will be dealing with, you are met with the quiet blue mech from the meeting room, his red visor snapping to attention, but he looked fine, who didn't was the relatively small, to Cybertronian standarts, mechanical panther in the metal table, smudges of blue all through it's body, the big one probably cleaned it while waiting for you
You look up at the metal table, and burrow your pride as you speak, survival first "help me get up, I'll take a look"
You distract yourself from the never wavering gaze by looking through your tools, leaving your bags in the corner, it did take some seconds for you to hear the giant mech bend down and grab you firmly
He puts you beside the panther, its red eyes shine noticing you, the mech growls, not very diferent from a lion, just more scratchy and mechanical, your survival instincts beg you to hide, freeze, but you power trough them, you can cry later, you can panic later
You notice leaking blue lines coming from the minicons' left arm, that place also being the one most clean and dented, with cautious steps you approach the beast, duct tape in hand, hammer in the other
The second you get close enough, the black mech tries to bite in your direction but is too weak to make actual fast movements. You still jump back from the sudden close of its mouth "I-I need to get closer to stop the leaking! I can see that some joints are also being obstructed by some dents, I am not here to harm you..."
The black mech still growls at you, then it stops momentarily, you hear the compress and de-compress of pressure, it sounds almost like a whine "please..."
You see two hands hold the black mech head, the blue guy apparently never left, you nod to him and start your work
Finding the leaking pipes was the easiest part, the panther was smaller than the other, like Rumble, so you had to bend yourself in some weird angles to be able to properly tie things togheter again, the hammering however... you couldn't do it gently. The feline mech jumped every once and while in response to you, but with the blue one holding it still, you were not harmed... only scratched here and then when it tried to move its arm around
Finally, the worst had passed, but your patient was still too... out of it, slowly you approached its neck, and spots a light coming from wires brushing agains each other, clearly snaped, you hum
"Do you have rubber?" You ask your temporary assistant, he slowly picks a black heavy cloth from the closest table and drops near you, with scissors you cut a small new little cloth to yourself, wrap it around your finger and pray it works
You still felt the burn, but at least you were not electrocuted alive, so hey, a win. Once you tape the two wires together again, you can feel the tension leaving the black mechs' body, the hums of the engine becoming quieter, slower, tired
When everything was done, you step back from your work, wondering how late it was, wondering how would your life be from now on... and as the blue mech scratches the black ones chin, as it purrs in content, a part of you can't help but think that this isn't so bad...
Taking advantage of the high height, you look around, and decide to make an improvised climbing rope, so at least if someone else comes putting others in this table, you can escalate there yourself
You work quietly, twisting left over wires and testing some equipment you saw around, many of shapes you never seen before, some familiar but bigger, your exploration is halted by a deep voice, said as trough a filter "Patient designation: Ravage"
You jump and look back at the duo, the blue mech still by the medical table, looking only at the black feline whose optics are closed, he picks the feline up, and whispers "transform"
And like a switch, Ravage contorts and clicks and molds, into a black and grey, big, very big, caccette... oh.
His chest plate pops open, and he puts Ravage inside, together with a familiar black and red caccette... that... must be the guy that would kill you if he discovered Rumble had come for a check-in, that... is Soundwave... who was also by Megatrons side in that meeting, who apparently is in command of the caccettes like Starscream is of the seekers...
Oh wow you could have fucked this up so easily. He finally exits the medical wing, and as he passes trough the curtain, you hear one last thing "Quality of work: lacking, however, adequate for now. Attention: appreciated"
And he leaves just like that, you are finally alone
.............................
You still feel the dryness of tears in your cheeks when you wake up, you check your phone, battery so low you know it will discharge the second you use it to anything other than check time, midnight, great
The rumbling sound that first registered in your ears hasn't stopped, loud, too loud to be just the base, was someone close? You toss the thin blanket you finally aquired aside, taking a minute to adjust your sight to the light again, and immediately notice the... visitor...
Megatron stands by the entrance of the medical wing, arms crossed and staring directly at you, face unreadable
".... hi?" You murmur, a yawn scaping you "how may I be of service?"
Your voice snaps the tyrant out of his thinking "a check-up is in order"
He walks to the corner of the room that you have named "main alt-mode check in area", transforming again in the silver tank you first met... two days... almost three ago... you survived 2 whole days in this mess
"You may proceed to the leaking pipe first" his voice echoes from the tank "I expect discretion with whatever you find in me... doctor"
You nod, picking your backpack up "of course"
Getting inside your patient was familiar, now his engines are far louder than before, likely because he isn't almost passing out, his voice far more firm than that night, lights more potent
Crawling to his engine, you fiund the leaking pipe, the duct tape stretched, forming small gaps that are accumulating drops of energon, but also something strange is happening, in the sides of the tape, it's almost seamlessly transitioning to the metal of the tube
Inspecting closer you see the metal slowly taking over the tape, like vines or... veins. You tap the middle of the makeshift band-aind, it's as you expect, malleable, then you slowly make you way to the corners, tap over metal, but slowly, the tape texture changes to a more solid one, until you finally finish your inspection and it's only metal
"It's growing back" You murmur "like a human tissue... amazing"
"Something you would like to share?" You jump, forgetting briefly that this tank was, in fact, alive
"It's looking good!" You answer, and start to fix the leaking again "it did streech a bit too much, and could potentialy be riped apart again, my hipotesis is because whatever you are made off is far more streechier than human materials, but!"
You finish your work and tapping gently the tube "It looks like it can be used as healing aids, you are growing back the original... metal? Skin? Tissue? Whatever you call it, using the tape as a bridge and guide, that's amazing, haven't seen anything like it"
"Of course you haven't" you can hear the smug amusement in the warlords tone "Cybertronian biology seems to be too advanced for you fleshies to even think about"
You roll your eyes, making you way back out of the tank, still, his pride isn't without its merit, what more is diferent yet similar in your species you wonder...
"I recommend you stop transforming too often" you get out of him, hearing the now familiar sound of mass displacement "give time for your own body to permanently fix the inssue"
"So human material can be used as healing aids by Cybertronians..." Megatron sits against the wall, the scene is strange for you, he looks tired, yet he keeps talking "you are correct that mass displacement might interfere with the healing process, they are far too stiff to keep up with living metal"
The silver mech continues rambling, voice far softer than you have heard before, you don't dare to sit besides him, but you do lean in the nearest wall, waiting for his orders or comand, your eyes dropping every so offten
"But better temporary impaired, than dead" his eyes are fixed in nothing "the normal reabilitation time of a critical replaced part os usualy mere cycles, how long do you think it would take for my body to implement this new material into itself without risk?"
You jump into attention, shaking your head of its sleepiness "huh? ... I... am not sure.... usualy, for human standards, we heal in months after a cyrurgy? This is complete new territory, maybe a check-up every so often to make sure it's still going well is recommended?"
He nods, satisfied with your answer "then it's decided"
Megatron calls your name and continues "you work at a millitar facility near were you found me yes?"
You freeze, then remember you were the one to tecnicaly imply that by your "conversation" in your first metting "yes...?"
"A mechanic, part of the test prototype and regular concert of warmachines, I have a job for you"
You hold your breath, doing your best to no tremble under his red gaze "you, are to misdirect a small portion of your recieving shipment of parts, not always, but every so offten, so that we can still have a consistent suply of spare parts"
He smiles, sharp and crooked, you almost screams how the fuck are you supposed to do that imediatly, but bites your tongue in time, waiting for the warlord to finish
"And tend to whatever soldier I send your way for their check-up" you see him open his arm plate, tiping something and a hologram appears above it, he is taking notes in a language you have never seen "it would also be easier since they would be in alt-form and you would have all the equipment necessary for a better assessment, even an unassuming team... do you have a communication device?"
Too shocked with the reality that this massive robot has a functional hologram program in his arm you just take out your phone and hand it to his extended hand
With more gentleness than you would expect, he places the device inside his arm, a purple glow coming from there, then he lowers his arm to your level "take it, we may now reach you when necessary"
You reach inside, and your phone looks the same, battery still low, then a ping shows up
[Comunication test - 01:26:77 - °°/°°/°°/M.R - D.C: Megatron ]
"M.R?"
"Metal Rein"
"D.C... Direct Communicator?"
"Precisely, it's working, good, Shockwave will be please"
You hum, not daring to ask who that is, you would meet everyone eventually anyways... you still don't know if it's a good thing
This is a total crackfic lmao. I dreamt about coming home from work only to find Ravage cooking me pasta in a frilly apron and here we are-
I haven't written in a long while, so be nice please lol.
Notes: Reader is gender-neutral. They have a sparkling, whose process of creation is left ambiguous. For more information on sparklings in my fics, please check my pinned post.
Ravage had spoken very little of Soundwave, or any of his previous connections really, but what you’d gathered was that his old friend was a deeply compassionate albeit small-minded mech. One that wanted the best for beast-like Cybertronians, but cared very, very, very little for humans.
So it was understandable, in your opinion, to be surprised by the duo having a sharp, mass-displaced staredown in your kitchen. The air was thick with tension and the smell of dinner on the stovetop. Even with the stupid, cat-print apron you’d nagged him into wearing backwards while cooking, Ravage was posed with a sinister intent that made you shiver.
A rare reminder of just how different a mech he’d been when you’d first met - and before even that. How dangerous he was, even as he moved with mechanical grace and snided you for forgetting a jumper. It was so easy to forget about his fangs these days.
“Ravage: recalled exactly ten vorns ago,” it wasn’t phrased as a question, because it inherently wasn’t. It was pleasantly familiar to the beastmech; that typical Soundwave method of digging, prying, interrogating without limiting the answerer’s response. Moving his front pedes from the kitchen bench to drop onto all four, Ravage couldn’t help the automatic lowering of guard.
Afterall, if Soundwave had wanted to hurt him, or to hurt his family, he naturally wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have burst into the kitchen, interrupting Ravage while he mouth-stirred pasta sauce with a cybertronian-proof ladle and, most importantly, he wouldn’t have asked such an obvious question.
“I found myself with other responsibilities,” You had remained silent as your conjunx responded, yet Soundwave was aware of your keenness to pass through the kitchen and deeper into the house. Your thoughts were disgustingly organic. There was no reason or rhythm, it was just a sickening blur of worry, intrigue, pride and a revolting affection for his old friend.
“Negative: no responsibilities requiring you are visible.” Not to Soundwave, and not to the beastmech Ravage had once been. Someone that Soundwave had understood.
“And yet, I remain. Sometimes, that’s how things end up,” With dinner sitting at a safe temperature, Ravage began his outright confrontation.
“Why are you here, Soundwave?” The silence stretched. You remained in the doorway, eyes darting between the mechs and the dim hallway.
“Ravage: sent to observe, to analyse the humans. Ravage: never returned.” You tensed up at the nearly inaudible rustling of bed sheets.
“I sent you a comm, did I not? I said I was staying.” He’d said a lot of things, some he’d held onto for years and some he’d repeated time and time again. However, his goodbye had been clear.
“Why?” You began attempting to sneak past Soundwave, pressed against the wall as he ignored you. The noises down the hall had become more pronounced.
“I told you, I found other responsibilities.” Perhaps there was benefit to being honest to Soundwave, but the risk was paramount. Even if you’d managed to delay their meeting, Ravage knew that, at this point, it was inevitable.
“Why?” The word was dripping with betrayal and almost hatred. Soundwave still hadn’t moved, but his frustration was apparent and building.
As he’d suspected, Ravage didn’t have the chance or need to answer, as the pitter patter of tiny beastmech claws made their way to the kitchen. You, still stuck beside the fridge, attempted to motion the noise away.
Unfortunately, Tamper had inherited your pre-parenthood social awareness, one that could only be matched by a leather ottoman. On other days, you’d adore his bluntness, but right now, your child was about to walk into bitch fight that had been boiling for more than a decade.
“Dinn’r ready…?” The little mech spoke with a buzz to his vocaliser, an non-organic ‘sleepy voice’. One of the countless surprises he’d come with, all differentiating him from Ravage. Tamper’s spikes were rounder, his shapes were softer, and his colours were brighter. His little red optics had a hopeful innocence that both of you were desperate to keep glowing, as best it could in a post-Cybertonian war Earth.
“Not yet,” Ravage moved to approach and lightly nudged his mechling. Tamper’s jaw unhinged with a yawn, before he tiredly nudged back. You were still tense and frozen against the fridge, focused entirely on Soundwave and how he’d respond to Tamper’s entrance.
Soundwave said nothing. You said nothing. Ravage said nothing.
Tamper ‘stretched’, testing his mechanical body before yawning once more.
Warnings: Reader injury. Speaking of loss of loved ones. Swearing. Angst.
An: Dude. I absolutely adored this request! The pairing doesn't come until later in the story but I had a fun time building up a bit of backstory!
Word count: 3,039
Tags: @astridkolch
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"Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief."
- Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides
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Earth was coming to an end. Or, at the very least. That is what it felt like. The aliens, Cybertronian's they called themselves. We're slowly tearing this world apart.
Although some do not mean it. Large meccanoids regularly coming back to fix towns and cities. Places they had a hand in destroying. They were more advanced than your kind. Helping rebuild homes stronger and more sturdy. Hurdling Earth's technology far ahead of it's time. No weapons though. Nothing that could possibly help you defend against them.
Nothing that you could use and hurt your fellow human.
You've seen the Autobot leader. You stood in the back if a small crowd. The sooty and tearstained faces of your neighbors looking to him. For what you didn't know.
Hope? Empathy?
He spoke as if he did. Gave you his name. His words. The promise to be rid of the Decepticons. "To have peace upon your world." You scoffed.
People began to cry out. A viscous growl if named. Venom and hurt.
The face of the Prime falls. His very being seeming to sink into the concrete ground. A pink feminine figure lays a hand in his shoulder.
That look he gave her. You knew that look. The very same your father gave your mother. So soft and full. When he was tired she brought him up. Just as the pink one was doing now.
So. They were capable of love.
Slowly you made your way to the front. Helping your fallen neighbors to their feet. As you do so, something dark blurs in the corner of your vision. It sends your head turning to where it came from.
Tamara. Sweet and kind Tamara. The elderly woman who could barley harm a fly let alone show any kind of violence. Her hand was coated in mud. The dark coating or dirt pulled from a nearby pot. The same mud that now coated the side of Primes wide eyed face.
"Leave us." Her voice shrilled and cracked. "You bring nothing but death to us." One of them. A large mech coated in red steps forward. The Primes stops him. Hand in his chest as he still looks at Tamara.
You go to her. Try to calm her. Instead she grips your arms. She stains your shirt with the mud. Her brown eyes are blown wide. Bright and shiney. They moved swiftly side to side as she studied you. Shallow breaths left her lips quickly and her body trembled. Loose ringlets if curls shook from her normal slicked back style. A whimper left her lips.
Scared. She was scared.
"I lost my grandchild because of them. They need to leave.
As if the group had been waiting for her final words they surged forwards. Hurling a manner of things to the group of four Bots. Drinks. Rocks. Mud. You swore you even saw Delilah's stuffed bunny hit the red one.
"Leave!"
"Your kind are nothing but monsters!"
"My wife-My son-My Daughter!"
"You are no better than the ones you claim to protect us from!"
The words hurt. You knew this. Saw it. Their frames seem to break and fall. But at the same time you connected more with your townsfolk.
Still. It is not there fault the Decepticons will not leave. And, in the end. No one deserves such cruelty. You've seen the footage on social media feeds. You have seen Autobots taking hits to the point of death to save humans.
Your feet move before your thoughts catch up. You get caught in the crossfire the closer you get to them. Mud slinging against your back. Coating your hair.
The Prime leans down. You look up. Hands trembling as nervousness overtakes you.
"What do you need young one?" Your chest hurts when you speak next.
"You need to leave. For your own safety. These people." You gesture behind you aimlessly."They're hurting. And you being here is making it worse. Please. We will be fine if you go." The tears fall. "Just. Leave. Take Morgan street then Looking Glass road. You'll be able to leave in peace." It pains you to send them away. It hurts worse to see your friends in such a state.
The Primes face falls. "Truly? Is there no aid I can offer? There are camps." You stood him there's wave your hand.
"My family is dead. Now go." You leave at that. All the kindness in your heart leaving. And truly, the man is still willing to help in the face of those who speak his name as poison. He did not deserve your cruelty.
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With time came change. And with change you grew. You mourned every loss. Celebrated every victory. Grew into a new person with others. Stronger and more willed. And yet, some lost the only true gift In This world. Their kindness. Their love. The ability to help without expectations.
Lost the meaning of being human in a crisis.
Your town had kicked you out over that. Showing kindness to their so called enemy. Nearly a year has passed since then. Still, the hurt had not ceased.
The group you were in now had been a serendipitous moment. It was also a choice born of desperation.
They said all they did was helped. Pulling people from the ashes of fallen homes. Helped them stand firmly on their own two feet after it all.
You thought that was what you were doing. Up until the point you saw one of your "teammates" demanding a young woman to pay them.
"I helped you. Know you help me." When she pleaded. Told him she had nothing. That her home had been burned and with it everything she had. He rose a fist to hit her. Only to be stopped when you pulled his arm back.
"What the fuck David?" He laughed. Let the woman go.
"What?" He asked. "We hell them and they don't own us nothin'?" He steps to you. Eyes bright as his lips curl into a ghost of a smile. "I don't know what you or Boss is on, but I ain't doin' this for free. So back off. Or I'll make you pay for it instead."
You step back. Disgust turning your stomach. "You're sick. You know that. Right?" You motion with no clear direction. "But if we had to "pay back" after we got help no one would be in a good place right now. You forget we were no different that her when Boss's crew helped us."
He seemed to mull this over. Then laughed. By now the young woman had left. Taking with her the water and canned goods you had give her.
"Then both of you are stupider than I thought." David spoke. "Think. We could be living lavishly right now. Not worrying about food. Drink. " He paused. "Bodies." He tagged that last bit on. Eyeing you up and down. You spat into the dirt. Ridding yourself the taste of ash and the rising bile from his gross suggestion.
"Greed will get you nowhere. Others will think the same. Do the same to you." David took offense to that.
"Do you really think you know me? I've lost things. People. I should be allowed to be selfish." He's in front of you now. Nose almost brushing yours. You could feel the heat rolling off of him. Almost fever hit in it's intensity.
"You're not the only one David. Everyone has lost something because of them. We need peace amongst ourselves. Not. Not this."
Your head swivels before the pain hits. Hot warmth cradling your jaw as you begin to regain your senses. You stagger back. Stop. Stare at David who is seething.
Blood. You taste blood.
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The fight wants long. A few minutes and most. It left David running to lick his wounds and you staring into the rubble of. the city that once was Portland. You leave to tell your boss your no longer helping.
The faith you once held in humanity now gone. Desperation born of ruin.
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.
.
Six months left you numb. Stumbling across more hurt than hope. More greed than selflessness. It left you ill.
Your travels lead you somewhere North. Snow overtaking the ground. Feet stepping into one of the few towns left intact. It is there you find some semblance of peace.
You live with them. A family kind enough to take you in until you could be in your own to feet. Long enough to be able to rebuild and abandoned house.
You do your part as well. Helping the young couple with cleaning and repairs in their own house. Offering to help with their gardens or over watching the twins. Carwyn and Arwen. Cute names. Adorable children. Although they did keep on sneaking your sweets away. It was cute thier laughter when they thought they got away with something.
The couple, Laura and Kate, were the ones to help you into your new home. It was small. Only three rooms. A bedroom a bathroom and the kitchen connected with the living room.
And it was yours.
The two made sure you had plenty of food. Pointed you in the direction of work to help earn your keep. Almost no one used money anymore. Instead choosing to fall back on old ways of commerce. It was nice.
You got comfortable. Got into a steady routine. Get up before the sun. Coffee. Get dressed. And then go work for the old man down the road. Finish there and help anyone else who needed it. You would go home then. Wind down. Eat dinner. And write. The only constant that has stuck in this life. A habit your not willing to let go.
It happens again in the summer. Early in the morning while your drinking your coffee. Still clothed in the thin shirt and shorts you fell asleep in.
You could smell it. The acid blend of ozone and what you've come to recognize as blaster fire. Your heart stops. Your breathing becomes short.
No. No. No.
It can't be. Not here. Not now. Not when everything was getting better. Not when you just began healing.
You do the first thing you think of. Lacing up boots and pulling in jeans as you run out the front door. Your coffee spilled all over the table on your back porch. The table the twins made for you. A table you may never see again.
"Laura! Kate!" Your voice shrills in the morning air. Cool misty air wets your warming face. Does nothing to calm your beating heart. People stop and stare at you. Running down the road. Panicked and frightened.
You could see it now. The bright red arcs shooting just outside the town.
You stood in the middle of the road. In front of Laura and Kate's home. You pull in a shuddering breath.
"Fuck." The curse repeats on your lips. "Everyone! We have to go. Now!" They say nothing. Watch you slacked jawed. For the longest time they had only knew you and cold and collected. A person who thought before they spoke. Only warming to the young kids and lending a helping hand to those who needed it. Never expecting anything back.
"Y/n?" It was Kate. The mousy haired women jogging out her front door. Still dressed in her blue nightgown.
"Kate. We need to leave. The town need to go." She looked out you. Bewildered.
"Y/n. There's nothing happening you. Are you okay?" She lays a hand on your shoulder. Eyes Darting to the sky above. Following the arc of light over the town. "Y/n?" Your hands shook. You looked to her. Mouth dry as you spoke.
"The Decepticons. They are here. We. We need to go. Everyone!" You looked to them. "We need to leave. This town won't make it. Pack only what you need. Food. Clothes. Camping gear." Your voice echoed down the street. No one moved. Your heart skipped a beat. That acidic stench filling your lungs. Stronger now as it got closer.
"Go!" Your voice was even and steady. And it seemed to be the first falling domino. The town flooded into a flurry. Neighbors waking those who were yet to rouse. Talking amongst themselves what was needed.
Your were winded by the time you made it home. Immediately throwing bags already packed out of paranoia into the back of an old Chevy. The truck you've been fixing since you got here.
You tossed a car seat into the middle. Left the other bare. Just incase. Just incase.
The first blast hit moments later. Tearing up the road and homes in an explosive burst of power. Heat rolled through the town. Hotter that any summer heat you may have endured as a child.
You got out of the truck. Began directing others to the other end of town. Telling them where to go. A path you went over and over again as the months passed. Just incase. Just incase this moment happened.
God you wished you never needed it. That your paranoia was getting the best of you.
Carwyn and Arwen we're terrified. Tired eyes full of quiet tears as thier mothers loaded then into their car. Laura came up to you as Kate loaded the last of their belongings in.
"Y/n?" You looked down at her. A faint smile on your face.
"You know. I never really got to say thank you for." She cut you off.
"No. Tell us when we make it out of here." Your snort.
"If Laura. I'm not fool enough to think everyone will make it." You push her to her car. To her wife. "Now go. I'll follow. I just have to be sure everyone made it out." Her face falls.
"Please. Be safe." You say nothing. Watch as she gets in her car. Watch the scared faces of the twins through the windows. Their eyes never leaving yours.
It's only after they're gone do you let yourself grieve. A few falling tears. The bitting of your fist. The explosion of breath leaving your lungs as your body shakes. Trembling still as you enter the Chevy. Tears drying as you slowly press on the gas. A slow cruise down the road as you watch for stragglers.
The second blast hits. Sending your truck careening forward. The horn screams as the truck flips. Your breath leaving you as it skids across the road. The large metal leg filling the windows as it's rolls to a stop.
The door opens. The belt catches. Loosens.
A third blast. Your hair singes. Skin burns. Old wounds resurface.
A fourth. A fifth.
A prayer on your lips.
A sixth. Seventh.
Homes burn.
Eighth. Ninth.
A fallen body. Either Autobot or Decepticon. You don't stick around to find out.
They spoke in a foreign tongue. Their voices filling your ears as you ran. Heart a battering ram in your chest. Your lungs felt as if they would collapse. Your body grew cold. Your legs numbed.
Tenth.
Your body flew. Hit the ground a few feet away. A shriek left your lips. A sob tore your throat. Your leg. Oh fuck your leg.
Move move move!
You couldn't. Your head turned. Tears blurred your vision. Heat rolled over your trembling body.
A final breath. Your vision tunneled. Then left.
.
.
.
You woke to the sound of voices. No. Voice. Timbered and low.
"Human?" A nudge at your jaw. A low hum left your chest. You moved. A nearly screamed at the pain that followed. Your eyes shot open. A whimpered curse left your lips. "Human? Answer me." You looked to the source of the sound.
Oh you cursed every god in those start skies. One of them. One. Cybertronian. Was this one good or bad? Will. Will they hurt you? And. Were. Are that a cat?
"You're injured. Can you move?" And they talked? Did you hit your head. Your fingers brushed your brow. They nudged you.
"No." Came the raspy response. The cat hummed. Jeweled eyes roved over you.
"What is your name?" You scoffed. Spat.
"You first." They laughed. He? You think this one was a he. Talking cat or otherwise.
"Ravage." You let you head fall.
"Y/n. Although." You stopped. Coughed. "I don't see why you care so much." Ravage laid down next to you. Long body guarding you from cold winds that you just now noticed.
"I don't know why either, Y/n." His head turned. Looked down to you. "You humans. You fear us. I know why. But you. I watched you." His voice was a low rumble now. "Unlike others you tried to help. " He paused. Shifted. Looked to his left. Then back again.
"Your people are safe because of you. They left just as the battle reached here. You." He paused. Mulling over his words. Watched you as tears fell from your eyes. The starlight reflected in them. "You are loyal to those you care about. And we can always use another like that. You are not the first human. Not will you be the last of either sides I'm sure." You bared your teeth.
"And why would I help the people who have a hand in destroying my world." He grinned. Metal fanged glistened in the moonlight.
"You do not have a choice. Human. If you wish to have help. The Autobots will not come back for you. They think all the humans fled and instead are with them. You are alone here. Except my help." You coughed. Shivered despite his warmth.
"Fine. Just know. I'll be sure your world ends to. Despite whatever loyalty you think I have." Ravage laughed. Curled into you further.
"Oh believe me human. I know it will. But, I do know you will enjoy their company." His tailed arced over head. His head, large as it was, curled over yours. Warmth flooded I over you. Made your body grown heavy.
"Rest know. And trust me when I say no harm will come of you."
Despite not wanting to you did fall asleep. A mixture of fear and pain. Your body to tires to fight it. At the very least you will be rested for whatever was to come.
Could you do Drift and Ravage for the oxygen loss prompt?
I absolutely can do Ravage, our dear kitty deserves the love! Drift can be found in part six below!
Part One: Here!
Part Two: Here!
Part Three: Here!
Part Four: Here!
Part Five: Here!
Part Six: Here!
Part Seven: Here!
Part Eight: Here!
Part Nine: Here!
Part Ten: Here!
Part Eleven: Here!
Part Twelve: Here!
Part Thirteen: You're Here!
Ravage
·The tale of how you even became friends with the reclusive and understandably untrusting felicon is as long as it is convoluted, but a good synopsis is that the two of you simply get one another. It doesn't hurt that you always gave him ample personal space and respected his boundaries, and the fact you don't mind meeting up in the vents is a plus for him. Bots are absolutely baffled by your relationship, so avoiding public spaces has become his preferred activity to enjoy with you, if only to be free of the gossip. Equally eager to have peace and quiet, you'd long since found ways to make his favorite spots in the vents into ideal hangouts.
·Unfortunately, today is one of the rare days he has to be away from your side and amongst the crew. On the Bridge there's some kind of trouble, requiring all the commanding officers to be present while it's sorted out, and he refuses to leave Megatron there alone. Primus knows his old friend gets blamed for everything that goes wrong eventually... Yet he's far from focused as the diagnostic scans reveal a confounding bug in the ship's programming. As worrying as it should be, his thoughts drift repeatedly to you, and how much he'd rather be somewhere far less open and bright. Hopefully this will all end soon, and the two of you can curl up somewhere to relax, with his larger body naturally fitting around yours as if made to do so...
·A teasing look from Megatron makes him realize he had allowed his dreamy thoughts to color his face with a ridiculous expression of lovestruck bliss. Pinning back his ears and flushing hot as a star, he can only be grateful no one else seemed to notice. Just as he's debating whether or not to sneak away, there's a commotion amongst the more tech savvy bots. They claim to have found the source of the programming bug; which isn't a bug at all, but a virus. Claws fully unsheathing in preparation for combat, his sense of dread grows exponentially as he puts together what is being said, realizing that something very bad is moments away. Lights flicker in confirmation of his fear. In moments the ship is flashing out a hundred or so alarms, signaling that it is more or less helpless against whatever may happen next.
·You're the first thing he thinks about as countless terrible scenarios begin to play in his mind. Between his hypersensitive hearing and smell he's nearly choked on the panic and fear growing through the Lost Light, but all he wants to focus on is you. A human has precious little in the way of defense, and with every system keeping the ship stable, there's nothing to protect you. The solution is obvious; he has to find you before something else does. When the ground quakes and an incoming transmission threatens the crew he doesn't stick around to hear the enemy gloat. A brief explanation to Megatron is all he offers before taking off, and though he doesn't stick around to see it, his old friend gives him a nod of understanding.
·Distant sounds of metallic warping and the scent of soldering tell him the ship is being breached, but also make it incredibly difficult to pinpoint your location. He's memorized every identifiable feature of yours for moments like this, but the chaos turns the air into a smog of panic, so that it's only the uniqueness of your scent that allows him to find a trail. Faster than most vehicle modes and far more limber, he's an unstoppable blur through the hallways. A path to your shared quarters forms effortlessly in his mind as he passes down the levels.
·Far from your partner, you're still recovering from the bang that shook the entire room you'd been so comfortably set up in. Dazed on the ground, you get your feet beneath you before thoughts return, and the first one is for Ravage. Unfamiliar with space travel, you feel compelled to fear the worst; what if he was too close to whatever just went wrong? Capable as he is, the Felicon isn't immortal. Dead communication lines cement the need for worry in your dizzy head. Careless to the considerable tumble you just endured, you try to think of the best possible response for both your sakes. If he's able to so much as crawl, Ravage will be headed for you, so the best thing to do is make yourself as easy to find as possible. Shallow as that plan may be, it's at least a starting point, and you won't have to go far.
·A trail of claw marks through the hallways marks a tireless and acrobatic flight of barely disguised panic. Ravage takes every possible vent into his olfactory receptors for even the tiniest whiff of you. It's a scent he falls asleep with every night, the familiar yet so unusual mammalian musk soothing him as he curled about your tiny body... Now he's panicking over every tiny whiff, if only because he can't tell if you're really okay. Foreign smells tell of an encroaching enemy spilling into the Lost Light, and from the overpowering rush it appears their numbers are considerable. Some even appear to be moving through the lower levels just a floor or two below... Hulking footsteps that are not Cybertronian register in his sensitive ears, moving with such little grace he can feel them through the floor in his perceptive paws. Anger helps him swallow down some fear. If they want to get between him and his partner, then it's their death wish.
·Finding little to be working reliably, you open the door to your room just wide enough to let you through only after multiple attempts prove unsuccessful. A lifeless but somehow noisy hallway greets you. The sounds of combat are close, or at least, you presume what you're hearing to be combat. Perhaps you hit your head harder than you thought, because thinking through what's going on is far more difficult than it should be. Holding onto the wall for support, you try desperately to think of a plan. Ravage could be anywhere, and with no way to reach him, it's impossible to plan a meet up or even attempt to learn of his status. Yet... these dire thoughts don't invoke the panic they should. It's growing impossible to even stand on your own, and without meaning to you start to lean more of your body against the wall...
·Ravage inevitably is faced with a foe he cannot evade, and for your sake, he charges forward. There's a group of them, all gathered in the only hallway that will take him quickly to your location. He can feel the heat of energy weapons simmering in the air by the time he's upon them. With the element of surprise he's able to unleash incredible damage in his first attack, claws and fangs tearing through protective armor to kill one and severely wound another before they even realize they're being attacked. Bounding between their hulking forms, he faces the one disadvantage he's always endured through combat; his enemies far outscale him. Though his need to protect as well as survive turns him into a living blender, a well placed and simply lucky strike makes painful contact with his back, cracking the armor and bringing forth a spattering of energon.
·Recovering with the aid of his own anger to fuel the final attacks, he fights on with the wound agonizing him all the while, sinking his fangs in deep to take care of the final enemy. It isn't until the last body thunders to the floor that his legs temporarily give way. He's in need of medical attention, but he doesn't dare slow down, or even get a moment of rest. Shaking legs push defiantly to get him upright, and for once he's able to be grateful to have four. The ragged pace he resumes with is only as fast as it is because he knows he's close, as your scent is now clear despite the warring smells of blood and a million other unpleasant odors. Even if all he can do is collapse by your side and keep you company, it will be enough...
·Time seems to stand still when he sees you slumped over by the doorway to the room you two share. Though you're without injuries and the iron rich smell of human blood is undetectable, he knows something is very wrong, and though every motion hurts he bounds to your side. Crying out your name, he gently nudges you with a careful muzzle. Warmth and the rythym of your heart quell his greatest fears just before you open your eyes. Not quite awake, you can only be relieved to see him again, far too out of it to be afraid. At his insistence to move you express a desire to rest instead. No amount of encouragement can seem to make you realize the danger, and thus he's forced to make the decision to move you himself, even if he's in bad shape himself. Clearly, you need more help than he can give.
·You go along as best you can when he insists you ride on his back, and it's only your considerable experience doing so in the past that makes it possible now. He tries to think through the pain, but has little luck imagining what could possibly have done this to you, and his efforts to do so are hampered further as he begins to limp forward. Between energon loss and exhaustion and fear he knows things are looking grim. It tears at him more aggressively than any wound ever could, particularly as he feels you growing weaker against him, and all he can do is beg for you to hold on. You want to, but with his body so close and the rocking of his steps, how can you resist the urge to sleep? Surely everything will be fine when you wake... It's too much for him to endure when you slip into unconsciousness, and his legs give out beneath him. Failure burns in his spark as he tries in vain to keep going, his inability to save you haunting his exhausted body as footsteps draw near.
·It's by fortune he has rarely experienced that you're happened upon by a group of bots led by Megatron. He forces himself to stay awake for your sake, refusing to let anyone separate you so long as you need care. The blur of the medical bay brings comfort only briefly, as when he's informed of the reason behind your struggle he's nearly torn apart by guilt. Seeing you with your oxygen mask confirms his failure to protect the one he holds dearest to his spark. Withdrawing from the world, he allows himself to be patched up before curling himself around your tiny body, all but shielding you from the universe so intent on hurting you both.
·The warmth of his frame so frequently is your first sensation upon waking that you don't realize something is off at first. It isn't until you feel the mask on your face that you remember what happened, but by then Ravage is gently tapping his muzzle against you to confirm everything feels alright. Without promoting, he gives a quick rundown of what led up to this moment. You're wide eyed as he explains the ship's atmospheric shutdown, particularly when he gets to the part where he tried to carry you to safety... The apathy as he recounts it all, however, is far from fitting. Laying a gentle hand on a paw, you ask if something happened that bothered him, and receive confirmation from his silent expression of sadness.
·Initially, he can't bring himself to say what's wrong. On the surface he knows his actions were reasonable, but in his spark... he's so afraid of how his own inability to save you nearly resulted in tragedy. Just the thought of losing you is terrifying enough, but having nearly faced it has rocked him to his core, and he sits in silence under the weight of those emotions. Mercifully, you can read him well enough to not need words. Ravage has always withdrawn when upset, and few things agonize him more than failure.
·Gently as you can, you encourage him to come close, pulling his helm as near to your lap as possible. The sadness in his optics nearly breaks your heart, but you're confident as you speak, thanking him for what he did to save you and insisting you wouldn't be here without him. When he briefly tries to protest, you point out that he likely wouldn't be injured had it not been for you, and he quickly replies that you're worth any scars. When you retort that you feel the same way about him, a small amount of weight appears to leave his shoulders. He recalls that the best part of loving you has always been the freedom to exist as he is, free of pressure, and that he can't be a failure in your eyes so long as he tries. It's simply easy to forget that sometimes... Allowing himself a purr, he uses his tail to most effectively wrap you in his protective body, intent on keeping the both of you safe and warm for some much needed rest. So long as you have each other, there's nothing that can't be overcome.
Hey there, wanted to know if I could get some scenarios of how ratchet, ravage, swerve, and cygate would handle if their human s/o found an abandoned baby and was instantly overcome with motherly instincts. Mama bear mode activated
A/N – All baby girls in the fic today cos I’m biased.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
Ratchet
Ratchet stared at you and the small child swaddled in your arms. He had felt bad when he had to work again instead of joining you on the visit to the space port. Now, he regretted not going, because he would have handed the child over to the authorities instead of bringing it aboard like it was his own sparkling.
“(Y/N), please tell me that you aren’t planning to keep this child. What about the original owners?”
“The parents,” You emphasized the word as if it burned your tongue, “abandoned this baby in an alley, with a note, claiming anyone could take her. I mean, who does that? So now, I’m going to be her parent, aren’t I Evie?” You addressed the child. “Yes, I am and I won’t ever abandon you, will I?”
Ratchet glared at you, trying to keep his voice low when he spoke so as not to scare the child. “(Y/N), we cannot keep her. You have to take her back. This is no place for a baby.”
“And why not? She’s not going to cause any trouble here Ratchet, and she needs a family.”
“Of course she needs a family, but it’s not going to be us.”
“Don’t you want to start a family with me?”
“No,” Ratchet hissed. “(Y/N), you are my Conjunx and you had better understand me here. This is not our child. She will never be our child. This was somebody else’s and we will take her back.”
“Ratchet, if you think that I am ever leaving this baby-”
“THIS WON’T MAKE UP FOR THE ONE WE LOST!”
At that point the baby in your arms started crying and you turned all your attention to calming her, “Shh, shh, oh, it’s okay Evie. Your daddy is just working through some issues, he didn’t mean to shout. There, there.”
“I am not her father.”
“Ratchet,” Your stare bore into him, “We are married and this is my child now. You either get on board with this or we are going to have a serious discussion about our future. Now, I would storm out, but Evie needs a health check, so once you’ve given her the all clear, then I will leave.”
No more was said over the matter. Ratchet still didn’t want the child and clearly, he would have to convince you that keeping her was the worst idea for the two of you. The last baby, an accidental clone of you from one of the younger scientists, had been another surprise that Ratchet hadn’t wanted. He hadn’t said so at the time as he could see how you would feel responsible for that one; all the same, while he had never wanted to be a father, he also never wanted the child to die in that unspeakable accident. The Lost Light was no place for a child, and Ratchet hoped he could make you see that before you got hurt again.
After Ratchet had given the baby a thorough medical check, finding that she was perfectly healthy, he started up the argument with you again. It didn’t matter what he said, you simply weren’t listening.
Finally, after a full-on shouting match in which Ratchet regretted most of what he said, he roared at you to get out. It seemed that he would be in no mood to go back to your shared hab-suite for a while, at least until you came to your senses.
While Ratchet expected you to give in, and realise he was right, you waited for him to do the same. Days turned into weeks and Ratchet still hadn’t returned to the hab-suite, nor you to the medical bay.
Although Ratchet didn’t venture out from the med-bay, he heard stories from the bots that came in about how Evie had become something of a ship-mascot and treasure. Every-time she so much as waved her arms or gurgled a spit bubble, Rodimus added another cuddly Rodimus star to her collection.
Even knowing of the rift between the two of you, most bots tried to bring Ratchet around to their way of thinking by pretending they didn’t know about the fight and saying, “You must be one proud bot, having a sparkling so great,” upon finishing their medical evaluations.
Finally, Ratchet couldn’t take it anymore. His spark ached from yearning and sadness and yet he felt in his mind he was right, and no matter what, he would not be a parent. He stomped his way through the ship to the hab-suite he hadn’t seen since the fight. Ready to argue his point further, he stepped inside, instantly deflating at the sight that met him.
You were asleep on the berth, with Evie sleeping atop your chest; the two of you clearly exhausted from the day’s activities. Ratchet sat down in a nearby chair, watching the two of you. He had no idea how much a baby could grow in a month, and yet here it was in front of him.
Staying there for a while, seeing how peaceful the two of you were, Ratchet sighed.
‘Primus,’ He thought, ‘I’m not a praying mech, but… I hope I’m a better creator than my mine was. I’ll need to be here for this child… For Evie.’
Indeed, he hadn’t ever wanted to be a parent, but if Ratchet could be better than those who raised him, then maybe everything would be alright.
Ravage
Ravage sniffed the tiny fledgling in the basket in which you had found it and brought it aboard.
“What is it?” He asked, his tail lashing in frustration as the creature reached out its tiny fists to touch him.
“She is a human, like me,” You answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ravage didn’t like that tone, nor did he like your infatuation with the small human; you hadn’t taken your eyes off it since bringing it aboard.
“Is it deformed?”
That earned him a glare from you, “No.”
He glanced at you then back to her, realisation finally drawing on him, “Oh, so it’s a Minibot then. Smaller and weaker… What happened to its vocaliser? Why doesn’t it say something?”
You supressed a smile at Ravage’s unwitting ignorance, “Ravage, this isn’t a Minibot. This is a baby, you know, like a sparkling?”
“This is how you start off? No wonder you need me to protect you all the time.”
“Keep talking like that, see where it gets you in this relationship.”
Ravage hissed, making the baby cry with the sound.
“Ravage, you can’t make noises like that around the baby, you’re scaring her.”
Ravage glared at you as you picked the tiny human up, swaddling her in a blanket and soothing her. He hated not being the centre of attention where you were concerned.
“Fine,” He spat, keeping the growl out of his voice, “Tell me everything about your new toy so I won’t accidentally break it.”
It had taken some time for Ravage to understand everything to do with the human sparkling but he finally felt that he could take care of it, if he so wished.
While you were occupied, Ravage strutted into your room carrying a sandwich in his mouth. The baby was lying on its back in the playpen you had commissioned from one of the other bots obsessed with the fleshling. You had named her Danica after the first female NASCAR driver, but Ravage much preferred to call the creature ‘Spawn of Unicron.’
Perching on the playpen rail, Ravage dropped the sandwich onto the baby’s chest.
“Eat, you little retch,” Ravage growled. “I said eat. Then you will grow and (Y/N) will be all mine again.”
The baby giggled and waved her arms.
“You milky little let-down. My hunting skill was perfect. I stole that sandwich from (Y/N) herself. Now eat it.”
Danica gurgled, sticking her fist in her mouth.
“Well,” Ravage sneered, “At least you can clean yourself without help… Wait, what is that? Is that drool? Disgusting. Ugh fine, watch me.”
Ravage started cleaning himself gracefully, watching to see if the baby would do the same. When it did not, he simply rolled his eyes; clearly the child couldn’t do anything for itself.
“You’re not really a threat, are you. Fine (Y/N) can love you and I suppose I will do my part in protecting you. Do we have an agreement, spawn of Unicron?”
Danica started blowing spit-bubbles, entertaining herself in her own manner. Ravage merely scoffed and laid down outside the playpen; until the child learned to stop drooling, there was no way he would get any closer to her.
Swerve
“Let’s keep her,” You said, upon finding the abandoned child in the alley.
“What?” Swerve sputtered, gobsmacked by your suggestion.
“Why not?” You asked, picking the child up and checking her temperature. “We were talking about trying soon, so… Well, we can’t leave her here, and this planet doesn’t have a whole lot of humans and, Swerve, I just-” You looked at him for the first time since finding the baby, “I can’t leave her.”
“Will she- I mean- What should we call her? How long will it take her to walk? Do you think we should make Skids the Godfather? Primus, who will be Godmother? What items does she need? Don’t tell the others that, only me. I’m her dad now so I want to make the furniture? Scrap, where do we get baby formula? Argh, I just swore in front of our child.”
From that very rant, you knew Swerve was going to be a great father.
“Okay… Can you think of anything else we need to babyproof?” Swerve asked, looking at the new layout of the hab-suite.
“Nope, we crushed it,” You answered happily.
“You hear that, Nova? This is your new home.” Swerve picked up the baby from the sock drawer you were keeping her in until the cot was ready. Upon being disturbed Nova started crying. “Oh no, don’t cry. I’m sorry. (Y/N), what do I do?”
“It’s okay Swerve, just keep calm and rock her gently. She’s probably just over-tired.”
“(Y/N), please take her. I need to see how this works.”
Swerve handed you the baby, watching closely to learn how to handle her.
“Alright, so this is how you calm her,” You said, using the techniques you had picked up on Earth whenever a family member or friend asked you to babysit. Eventually, Nova stopped crying and you smiled, “See, it’s just a matter of practice.”
“Oh… Okay. Yeah, I can do this. Hey, will she be needing her crib now?”
“Yeah, as soon as we can get that and the other stuff, we’ll be all set.”
“Great, then I’ll be just a few minutes. I built them earlier, so it’s just a matter of collection.”
Swerve hurriedly left and you smiled to yourself, “See that, Nova? Your daddy is having a freak out. Come on, we’ll start walking to the labs. By the time we get there on our tiny legs, he should have calmed down.”
Swerve vented air through his system, trying to cool down. He wondered how he could be a good parent if he didn’t even know how to calm his new child down. Primus, he would be terrible at this. How long would it be before you realised that he was no good for you and Nova before you left him? He bet it wouldn’t be long at all. After all, humans were so different than Cybertronians; he couldn’t possibly be any good for a human baby.
Swerve slumped against the lab walls, looking at all he had built for the child. All the designs had come from the Earth’s internet, but he had painted them with things from both your planet and his. Looking at his work, Swerve thought of all the pros and cons of him being the child’s adoptive parent; that imaginary list held a lot of cons.
Eventually, the door swished open and Swerve busied himself, pretending to check over the items.
“Hey sweetie,” You greeted upon entering the room. “How are you doing?”
“Me?” Swerve laughed anxiously, “I’m doing great. Life couldn’t be better. I’m just late back because I was looking at this crib and I was wondering, does it look rickety to you, because to me it looks rickety, so what do you think?”
“I think you’re freaking out.”
Swerve stared at you, ashamed that you had seen right through him. “I’m sorry. I just- I love Nova and I want to be a good parent, but what if I’m not? What if I screw up and she grows up to hate me? I’ve never been a parent and I’m scared. There’s so much that could go wrong.”
“Swerve, it’ okay to be scared. I’m scared too. This is hardly a normal place to raise a child. Anything could happen, but as long as we have each other, I know we’ll do great. All we can do is love Nova and show her that every day. If we do that, we’ll do great. So, do you want to come back to the suite and help set up the nursery?”
Swerve pulled you into a hug, being careful not to disturb Nova. “Let’s take our baby home,” He whispered.
You kissed his cheek, “That’s my Conjunx.”
Cygate
“So, what do you think?” You asked Tailgate and Cyclonus, having explained to them how you had come by a human baby. There was only one acceptable answer from the pair, but you hoped they wouldn’t make you choose between them and your new daughter.
Tailgate’s frame started shaking with excitement, and Cyclonus had to hold him back before he tackled you and the child in a hug.
“Careful,” Cyclonus warned. “The baby is more delicate than even (Y/N).”
Tailgate tried to take the warning into consideration, remembering when you had agreed to a polyamorous relationship with him and Cyclonus; he had hugged you so hard that it broke your arm and three ribs. Although he always tried to be more careful now, he still found it hard to restrain himself sometimes.
“WHAT DO WE THINK?” Tailgate exclaimed. “THIS IS AMAZING. YOU HAVE A SPARKLING- NO, WE HAVE A SPARKLING. Oh, boy, oh boy, oh boy. I can’t wait to teach her to play catch. And we can watch shows together and read to her, and Cyclonus can teach her to sing. WE ARE GONNA BE THE BEST CREATORS IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE UNIVERSE.”
You had to laugh at Tailgate’s enthusiasm, but you didn’t let it escape your attention that Cyclonus had yet to say how he felt.
“We can keep her, right Cyclonus?” Tailgate asked what you had been too afraid to.
Cyclonus looked at you and Tailgate. You were the only two people he had ever loved in all of his long life, and it had taken a long time for him to open his spark to you and let himself be vulnerable. Did he really have room in his spark for a third person? It seemed that you and Tailgate were full of nothing but love, but Cyclonus knew he wasn’t like that, and knowing so scared him.
He looked at the sleeping child nestled in your arms. She was so tiny. Delicate features graced her face, and such a young being could only be innocent and pure. Cyclonus was neither innocent or pure. He had a dark past which he would always be haunted by. While it was true that you and Tailgate had helped to heal his inner scars, he knew they could so easily be reopened if he wasn’t careful.
Did such a precious child really deserve such a bad role model? Cyclonus wasn’t sure of the answer to that. Perhaps he would be a terrible creator and only serve to dampen the baby’s future, but maybe, just maybe, he could heal even further with her to care for.
Swallowing his fear, Cyclonus looked at you and Tailgate, and with some effort he said, “She needs a name.”
Tailgate punched the air, crushing Cyclonus in a hug afterwards, “YESSS. WHAT ABOUT AUTOCLAVE, OR CAMBER, OOH CHICANE- NO, RUMBLESTRIP.”
“How about a name from Earth?” Cyclonus suggested, looking to you for an answer.
You considered the question for a moment, knowing full well that Cyclonus didn’t want a Cybertronian name that might remind him of his past. “Okay, what about… Penelope?”
“Penelope…” Tailgate sounded out the word in his vocaliser.
“Yeah, she’s blonde like Penelope Pitstop and one day, she’ll be one hell of a driver.”
“I don’t know who this Pitstop person is, but I like the sound of Penelope. What do you think Cyclonus?”
Cyclonus gave a small smile, “I think she’s perfect.”
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An: Had a thought. Wrote for Ravage. This came out. Let me know what you think!
Tags: @rawmeknockout I hope it's ok that I tagged you in this!
There is not a whole lot of bots Ravage cared about. He could, as the saying goes, count on one hand the amount of bots he allowed into his life. Soundwave chief among them. So it was quite world turning when you came into his life. Or rather, the Lost Lights.
He didn't think much of you a first. Just another organic that he could lump in with the rest.
Absolutely average in everything you did.
At least. That's what he thought. His opinion began to sway and change the more he watched you interact with the other bots aboard the ship.
He expected you to be like the last liaison they had. Only talking with those you had to. Being rude and irritable to the others who tries to be their friend. To learn more about humans.
So when that grudge carried over he expected you so bend and break over the hostility the bots had to offer. And instead you surprised him by rising up. To showing the better side of humanity to them. To not standing for the way they had treated you in the beginning.
He began caring for you more deeply than he meant to. It began with your first meeting. Megatron introducing the two of you. You had looked so small in his large servo. Both of your legs together barely averaging the size of one digit.
He felt a spark of protectiveness shoot through him when you came to great him. He was taller than you. Your little furry head reaching just below his chin.
And you.
You treated him as an equal. As being with sentience and thought. Not like an animal. And with such soft kindness he had yet to see from your kind or his.
It grew further when you stood up to a stubborn bot who wouldn't take a hint. Asking him all sorts of questions that, if he were still with the Deceptions, he would have torn their neck cabling without a second thought. Yet here you were. Hands on hips. Face flushed with anger. Voice high and steady as you told the mech off.
"How dare you make insinuations of any kind about Ravage! He is more than just an animal you absolute ass of a mech! Would you care to be called brutish and animalistic without thought or reason! How about I take that high and mighty head of yours as shove it up you-" Ravage had quickly cut you off. Gathering you up by the fabric of your shirt and carrying you not to unlike the kittens on earth.
"You don't need to do that for me." He told you when he had reached your habsuit. "I could handle it myself." You shook your head. Face still flushed. Whether it was from anger yet to leave or you were embarrassed to be carried like that he didn't know.
"Ravage you shouldn't have to. There are people who care about you. Megatron." You had hesitated. "I care." Your fingers bunched up the hem of your shirt. "I care about you quite a bit."
He stared at you. Didn't speak as he mulled over your words. Perhaps a bit to long as he watched your face fall. Cheeks flush. You hands shake.
"Out of all the mechs and femmes. All the species I have met in my lifetime. You. You didn't treat me like I was an animal. Why?" Your face scrunched. He always that it sweet that. That little look on your face when you were confused or thinking.
"I. What? Ravage. Why would I treat you any differently?" You places your servo on the side of his muzzle. Your warmth seeped into him. "You speak like me. You think. You feel. I've seen you grieve and be homesick for Soundwave. Ravage you have kept me safe and made me happy. Why would I treat you like you were some. Some."
"Animal?" He finished. His nosed at the top of your head. Breathing I the scent of the soaps you used. Sweet and fruity. "Because I am. In body. In instinct." You laughed and he pulled back.
"Technically speaking. So am I." Slowly. Carefully you placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. Standing on tip toe to reach him.
"I came here. I saw all of them. And I fell for you, Ravage. Only you." His spark thundered at that confession.
He wrapped himself around you.
"Maybe I have to." He couldn't admit it. No yet. It would make it to real. To tangible. To easy to touch and break. Let him feel for a while.
He thought you look satisfied with that answer. Choosing to curl up with him on the carpet of your habsuit. Pulling a heavy blanket over the two of you.
Let him pretend. Let him pretend that in this moment there is no chance of loosing you. Of him being. Him.
