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wyntir_knight) wrote2021-02-24 02:00 pm
wyntir_knight) wrote2021-02-24 02:00 pm
Entry tags:
Work In Progress Wednesday
Today I'm sharing a bit from "Bleeding Daylight". This is set in the Wings Universe; Smokescreen and Swindle are bonded, the Combaticons are unwilling members of the Decepticons, the entire war is about to change.
Title: Bleeding Daylight
Fandom: Transformers: G1 (Wings Universe)
Characters: Onslaught, Blast Off
Pairings: Onslaught/Blast Off
Rating: Mature
Content Tags/Warnings: This section makes mention of torture and implied rape.
Summary: This is set late-ish in the fic. Onslaught has been placing himself between Megatron and his team as Megatron tests the limit of the obedience chip.
A/N: In this fic I've made Blast Off asexual and in a semi-physical relationship with Onslaught. Hopefully I'm doing asexuality justice in the portrayal.
---
Onslaught walked down the halls of the Nemesis, moving stiffly, each step careful and measured. He was the leader of the Combaticons, one of the greatest strategic minds Cybertron had ever known. He was certainly not limping back to his quarters to lick his wounds. As soon as he was in his room and the door was closed behind him, all of his pride left him. Only Blast Off’s strong arms stopped him from collapsing onto the floor.
“We need to do something,” Blast Off said as he guided his commander to the berth. “We can’t let him continue to abuse you like this!”
The shuttle grabbed a cloth and began to clean Onslaught’s armour, removing various fluids and grime. “Let me in behind your panels,” he murmured.
Onslaught lay back on the berth, his hands clenched into fists, and did what he was asked.
“There isn’t much that we can do. I can only disobey him for so long before the chip makes it impossible.” He flinched slightly as Blast Off hit a particularly raw bundle of sensors. “And it’s better that he’s focused on me than on you- or one of the others.”
Blast Off stopped his ministrations to look Onslaught in the optics.
“Self sacrifice doesn’t look good on you, Commander,” he said firmly. “You are not a martyr so stop deluding yourself into believing that we need you in front of us taking it all!”
Onslaught sat up, moving stiffly and glared at Blast Off.
“This has nothing to do with martyrdom and self sacrifice! I am the commander of this unit and this is a matter of -”
“I know you, remember?” Blast Off snapped, cutting off his commander. “I have known you for a long time and this isn’t you. You calculate the odds, you acknowledge that sometimes sacrifices need to be made, but you will never sacrifice a command element when it is unnecessary!”
Onslaught’s optic band brightened with a sudden flare of white hot rage, and Blast Off could hear the creak of the tendons in clenching hands.
“This also isn’t you,” the shuttle continued motioning to Onslaught as a whole. “I am more than happy to help you when you need it. After all, we’ve been together for a long time. But if that help is going to lead to me being on the receiving end of your outbursts then let me know and I’ll head back up into orbit until I’m needed for Bruticus.”
Onslaught ex-vented heavily and offlined his optics.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a low, barely audible voice. “I’m barely holding all of this together and I’m finding it harder and harder to think clearly. It’s like I’m processing through a total system’s collapse.”
Blast Off sat down onto the berth and took one of Onslaught’s hands in his own.
“I understand what you mean. It’s a struggle to stay down here. It’s not claustrophobia, it’s more like I’m struggling being around all of you. There’s just too much. Too much noise, too many bodies. Just too much of everything.”
Onslaught had been pulling Blast Off close, but at that confession he froze and pulled away.
“Don’t you dare!” Blast Off said, pulling Onslaught back against him. “Them out there. They’re the problem. Not you. Now, if you keep taking your irritation out on me that’ll change. But for right now? For right now I’m not going to allow whatever this is that’s glitching us to destroy what we’ve had for all these eons.”
Onslaught leaned against his second and allowed himself to be comforted. Yes, the Decepticons would view this as weak and perverted. Even some Autobots didn’t understand their relationship. After all, how could there be such an intimate connection between two mech when one of them claimed to be incapable of and even repulsed by the very idea of interfacing. Blast Off had given up on explaining that things were different with Onslaught. The others didn’t understand and he decided long ago that none of them were worth the time it was taking to explain and educate.
He sighed and pulled away slightly, “We need to get you fixed and he did a lot more damage than I can handle myself. We need to get you ready for a housecall.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Onslaught snapped, pulling away completely and glaring at Blast Off. “I do not need help from that butcher! I forbid you from-”
“Too late,” Blast Off interrupted. “Already done."
And as if on cue the door opened revealing an annoyed looking Hook.
Title: Bleeding Daylight
Fandom: Transformers: G1 (Wings Universe)
Characters: Onslaught, Blast Off
Pairings: Onslaught/Blast Off
Rating: Mature
Content Tags/Warnings: This section makes mention of torture and implied rape.
Summary: This is set late-ish in the fic. Onslaught has been placing himself between Megatron and his team as Megatron tests the limit of the obedience chip.
A/N: In this fic I've made Blast Off asexual and in a semi-physical relationship with Onslaught. Hopefully I'm doing asexuality justice in the portrayal.
---
Onslaught walked down the halls of the Nemesis, moving stiffly, each step careful and measured. He was the leader of the Combaticons, one of the greatest strategic minds Cybertron had ever known. He was certainly not limping back to his quarters to lick his wounds. As soon as he was in his room and the door was closed behind him, all of his pride left him. Only Blast Off’s strong arms stopped him from collapsing onto the floor.
“We need to do something,” Blast Off said as he guided his commander to the berth. “We can’t let him continue to abuse you like this!”
The shuttle grabbed a cloth and began to clean Onslaught’s armour, removing various fluids and grime. “Let me in behind your panels,” he murmured.
Onslaught lay back on the berth, his hands clenched into fists, and did what he was asked.
“There isn’t much that we can do. I can only disobey him for so long before the chip makes it impossible.” He flinched slightly as Blast Off hit a particularly raw bundle of sensors. “And it’s better that he’s focused on me than on you- or one of the others.”
Blast Off stopped his ministrations to look Onslaught in the optics.
“Self sacrifice doesn’t look good on you, Commander,” he said firmly. “You are not a martyr so stop deluding yourself into believing that we need you in front of us taking it all!”
Onslaught sat up, moving stiffly and glared at Blast Off.
“This has nothing to do with martyrdom and self sacrifice! I am the commander of this unit and this is a matter of -”
“I know you, remember?” Blast Off snapped, cutting off his commander. “I have known you for a long time and this isn’t you. You calculate the odds, you acknowledge that sometimes sacrifices need to be made, but you will never sacrifice a command element when it is unnecessary!”
Onslaught’s optic band brightened with a sudden flare of white hot rage, and Blast Off could hear the creak of the tendons in clenching hands.
“This also isn’t you,” the shuttle continued motioning to Onslaught as a whole. “I am more than happy to help you when you need it. After all, we’ve been together for a long time. But if that help is going to lead to me being on the receiving end of your outbursts then let me know and I’ll head back up into orbit until I’m needed for Bruticus.”
Onslaught ex-vented heavily and offlined his optics.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a low, barely audible voice. “I’m barely holding all of this together and I’m finding it harder and harder to think clearly. It’s like I’m processing through a total system’s collapse.”
Blast Off sat down onto the berth and took one of Onslaught’s hands in his own.
“I understand what you mean. It’s a struggle to stay down here. It’s not claustrophobia, it’s more like I’m struggling being around all of you. There’s just too much. Too much noise, too many bodies. Just too much of everything.”
Onslaught had been pulling Blast Off close, but at that confession he froze and pulled away.
“Don’t you dare!” Blast Off said, pulling Onslaught back against him. “Them out there. They’re the problem. Not you. Now, if you keep taking your irritation out on me that’ll change. But for right now? For right now I’m not going to allow whatever this is that’s glitching us to destroy what we’ve had for all these eons.”
Onslaught leaned against his second and allowed himself to be comforted. Yes, the Decepticons would view this as weak and perverted. Even some Autobots didn’t understand their relationship. After all, how could there be such an intimate connection between two mech when one of them claimed to be incapable of and even repulsed by the very idea of interfacing. Blast Off had given up on explaining that things were different with Onslaught. The others didn’t understand and he decided long ago that none of them were worth the time it was taking to explain and educate.
He sighed and pulled away slightly, “We need to get you fixed and he did a lot more damage than I can handle myself. We need to get you ready for a housecall.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Onslaught snapped, pulling away completely and glaring at Blast Off. “I do not need help from that butcher! I forbid you from-”
“Too late,” Blast Off interrupted. “Already done."
And as if on cue the door opened revealing an annoyed looking Hook.