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seehowsupplethespineis · 1 year

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Like Father, Like Son

(This is a headcanon I’ve wanted to explore for a long time. We all know that Knock Out is a relentless flirt and total romantic, but what if Wildbreak didn’t take after his father? What if Knock Out’s son was aro/ace? This fic is both shameless projecting and a concept I really wanted to write out. Knock Out supports aro/aces! You can’t change my mind!)

(Note: This takes place in our Wildbreak AU. The Wreck-Gar in this AU is TFA Wreck-Gar. Yes, we mixed and matched quite a bit.)

(Warnings: external aro/aphobia (both intentional and unintentional), internal aro/aphobia, crying, brief panic attack, Drag Strip is a Bad Boy(tm) who smokes)

Wildbreak had just slipped into a doze when a soft noise grazed his ears. The teen had been tossing and turning for an hour at least, so whatever the noise was, he was determined to ignore it. That soon became impossible. It wasn’t that the noise grew louder, but that he finally identified what the sound was: crying.

In a rush, he slipped out of bed. The air was chill and he stifled a shiver, grabbing a blanket and pulling it tight over his shoulders. As quietly as he could, Wildbreak opened his bedroom door and padded down the hall. The light was still on in his father’s room, which was highly unusual, given how seriously his dad took his “beauty sleep.” Hesitating briefly, the teen knocked on the door and entered.

Knock Out straightened as his son entered. After a few moments spent dabbing at his eyes, he turned to face him, a wan smile plastered on his face.

“Oh, Wildbreak, I…didn’t know you were still up,” A sniff punctuated his words, “It’s a school night, you know. You should get back to bed.”

In spite of his words, Knock Out didn’t protest when Wildbreak sat beside him. Leaning his head on his dad’s shoulder, the boy eyed the photograph in his dad’s hands. If he closed his eyes, the image would be just as vivid. He’d stared at it many times before, often while Knock Out regaled him with stories. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen his father cry over it; he always got like this the nearer it was to his and Breakdown’s anniversary.

A familiar sadness washed over Wildbreak. As much as Knock Out tried to impress upon him just who his other father had been, Breakdown was still just the shadow of someone else’s memory, forever out of Wildbreak’s grasp.

A tear dotted the frame just beside Breakdown’s grinning face. Wildbreak couldn’t bear to look up into his father’s watery gaze.

Resting his cheek on his son’s head, Knock Out exhaled shakily, a thumb smudging the tear stain over the glass.

“I hope you find someone like him someday,” he breathed.

Like all the other times his dad had expressed that sentiment, Wildbreak wasn’t sure how to respond.

A partner who loved him and who he loved in turn. The concept sounded pleasant, he had to admit, though in a remote way, like a happy dream he couldn’t quite recall the details of. He liked the idea of a deep bond with someone, but when it came to the nitty gritty of what that would entail, he found himself recoiling.

Heart pounding, Wildbreak drew breath enough to speak.

“Do…Do you think I will?”

There was a pause, then Knock Out lifted his head from Wildbreak’s and looked at him with watery eyes.

“Of course,” he said firmly, “There’s someone special out there for you. I just know it.”

He smiled and Wildbreak smiled back, only letting it drop when his father turned back to the photo. Somehow, he wasn’t convinced by his dad’s words. Furthermore, some inexplicable sense of dread started to take hold of him. Shutting his eyes, he tried to shove it aside.

Of course he wanted what his parents had had. Of course he wanted a special someone in his life. Who wouldn’t? Certainly not his father, and he was his father’s son, right? With a heavy sigh, Wildbreak rested his head back on his dad’s shoulder.

There’s someone special out there for you. He hoped to Primus there was; what would his father think if there wasn’t?

As usual, the school cafeteria was a warzone. After a moment’s reflection, Wildbreak revised this thought: the cafeteria was very chaotic, but not at all similar to an actual warzone. Growing up in a post-war society, he’d learned not to take the concept of war too lightly, at least unless he wanted his dad (or really any adult in the vicinity) to give him a lecture.

He did his best not to get jostled by his rambunctious peers, but by the time he reached the table where his friend Wreck-Gar waited, his sandwich had completely come undone, with a good chunk of its ingredients missing. Sighing, he let the tray clatter to the table and sank into a seat.

“How faired your journey?”

Wildbreak barely spared Wreck-Gar a glance as he slowly reassembled his sandwich, “Poorly.”

“Poorly,” Wreck-Gar echoed on seeing his lunch, “Why the cafeteria food anyway? Doesn’t your dad usually make your lunches?”

Wildbreak shrugged, “Yeah, but he forgot this morning and I didn’t want to bother him, so…”

Wreck-Gar sensed there was a story there, if his raised eyebrows were any indication. It didn’t feel right to disclose family business to an outsider, but this was Wreck-Gar, his best friend. On top of that, Wildbreak was surprised to find he really needed to talk to someone.

“I caught him, um, crying last night,” he explained, “Over my other dad- his husband, Breakdown.”

“Crying. Breakdown. I see,” Wreck-Gar nodded, “Is he okay?”

Wildbreak nodded, “Yeah, he just gets like this sometimes. I think it’s getting close to their anniversary, so that might be triggering it a bit.”

“Anniversary…No wonder,” Wreck-Gar regarded him thoughtfully, “How do you feel about it?”

Wildbreak shrugged stiffly, “I don’t know. It’s just always been like this. My dad and Uncle Starscream talk about him a lot. Last night was just…more intense, I guess.”

As he spoke, the conversation of last night replayed in his head, as did the anxiety it brought. His father had sounded so certain that Wildbreak would find romance. The sentiment should have comforted him, yet it did anything but. Perhaps it was just his innate anxiety getting in the way of things, as it usually did. This felt like a deeper trouble, though, something he couldn’t assuage with deep breaths and distractions. Maybe confiding in someone would help shed some light.

Turning back to Wreck-Gar, he was shocked to see his friend grinning and waving, though not at him. Following his gaze, Wildbreak deflated when he saw who had captured his friend’s attention.

He didn’t know much about her, only that her name was Rum-Maj and Wreck-Gar had been crushing on her since freshman year. At his wave, Rum-Maj dipped her head in acknowledgement and continued on her way, eliciting a squeal from her admirer. The two had been lab partners for one semester, which was enough for Wreck-Gar to fall head-over-heels in love, somehow. Wildbreak didn’t understand it, and on any other day, he would have just rolled his eyes and continued eating. Today, though, he found that he couldn’t stomach a single bite.

“Sorry,” Wreck-Gar energetically broke in on Wildbreak’s spiral, his eyes flicking from him to Rum-Maj and back, “What was that? Last night? Intense?”

Swallowing thickly, the other teen shook his head, unwilling to drag down Wreck-Gar’s lovestruck euphoria with his baggage, “It’s nothing…So, Rum-Maj. You, uh, talk to her recently?”

At the mere mention of her name, Wreck-Gar’s cheeks turned alarmingly red. It was an adorable sight, and as Wreck-Gar began to ramble about his most recent interaction with his crush, Wildbreak did his best to smile and nod and pretend everything was okay- that whatever was missing inside him could be found if he just listened hard enough.

It wasn’t just Wreck-Gar; everyone their age had romance on the brain. Just a cursory glance at the assembled students revealed several couples, some even openly making out, a sight which filled Wildbreak with inexplicable revulsion. The discrepancy between himself and his peers - at least in regards to dating - had never weighed too heavily on his mind. Last night was a wake-up call, though. He didn’t know why, but suddenly, he was desperate for a significant other, or even just a crush who he could talk about with his dad like Wreck-Gar did with him. He imagined the light that would shine in his father’s eyes, the advice he’d offer, the teasing, the repeated assurety that he’d find that perfect someone, even if his crush didn’t turn out to be the one.

Heart racing, Wildbreak chased that fantasy, letting Wreck-Gar’s voice blur into the background.

Yeah, he could do this. He would do this. First, though, he’d need some help…

“I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re talking about.”

Wildbreak resisted another eyeroll, “I’m not trying to make fun of you, Uncle Starscream. I just wanted…some advice.”

An arched eyebrow was the only response he received for several moments. Eventually, the hard line of Starscream’s mouth softened. Lacing his fingers, he tried to regain some measure of decorum.

“What sort of advice?”

It was Wildbreak’s turn to be embarrassed, “Uh…r-romantic advice?”

He didn't mean for it to be a question, but his voice couldn’t help but rise at the end, betraying his uncertainty. His mind was made up, though, so he stubbornly held firm, which was more than could be said of his uncle.

“Wh-Why would you come to me for that?” Starscream frowned. There was no indignance in his voice, just profound confusion, “Why not ask your father? He’s the one always prattling on about such nonsense.”

Wildbreak did his best not to fidget in his seat, hiding his shaking hands under the kitchen table, “I-I would, but…it’s almost their anniversary and...he’d just be weird about it, you know…”

What he didn’t reveal was the dread he felt about discussing such things with his father. What if his dad caught onto Wildbreak’s problem? What if he realized just how strange his son was before Wildbreak had the chance to change, to prove himself? He needed time to resolve all this, which meant he had to keep his dad in the dark, at least until he got to the bottom of this whole romance thing.

Glancing back at his uncle, he tried for a shrug, “I just thought, seeing as you have some…experience, you might be able to help.”

Starscream’s pale cheeks bloomed a bright red, “What do you mean? I don’t…it’s not…This is ridiculous!”

He made as if to leave the table, prompting Wildbreak to blurt out, “How did you know you had a crush on Skyfire?”

That earned another bout of silence, broken only by a high-pitched “Eep!” Fortunately, Starscream collapsed back into his chair, though remained coiled like a snake, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

“I-I don’t…” he spluttered, “I’m not some…some schoolyard boy with a juvenile crush!”

“So you…love him?” Wildbreak asked, genuinely curious.

“No!” Starscream screeched, casting a hasty glance about them, as if afraid they were being watched. Leaning forward, he continued in a low, harsh voice, “It’s nothing! There’s nothing going on between us!”

“But you want there to be.”

It was obvious even to someone as inept in romance as Wildbreak. At least, it was evident to him and Knock Out, who knew Starscream better than anyone. Ever since Skyfire had been appointed as an advisor in Starscream’s presidential counsel, Starscream had been smitten by him. The two had even enjoyed a few evenings out together, though nothing concrete had come of the outings. Despite all this, Starscream refused to admit there was any chemistry between them. Wildbreak wasn’t sure why, but his uncle had always been closed-off and jaded regarding his personal feelings. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t pry, but the situation was dire.

Starscream lurched away from Wildbreak and crossed his arms, as if shielding his own emotions from view, “What is this? An interrogation? Why the sudden interest in such matters, anyway?”

Sheepishly, Wildbreak picked at his nails beneath the table, not making eye contact, “I’m, uh, thinking…about…dating…someone…”

The words sounded hollow and forced. Starscream’s frown deepened.

“Who?”

“I don’t know yet,” Wildbreak admitted, “I just…want…someone...”

Judging from his expression, Starscream was entirely lost. So was Wildbreak, but he tried to pretend like he knew what he was talking about.

“Everyone seems to have someone, you know?” His words sounded more frustrated than he’d intended, “Even if they don’t have someone, they want someone, and I…want someone, too.”

I want to want someone. That was a more accurate statement, though he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.

Inhaling shakily, he finally met his uncle’s confused gaze, “So…how do you tell if you want someone?”

The silence that followed was more unbearable than any silence thus far. For a moment, the teen worried he’d broken his uncle, who was deadly still, not even blinking. When Wildbreak moved to wave a hand in front of his eyes, he finally snapped out of it.

“How do you-? Er, well, I…I’m not entirely sure…I suppose…” he huffed through his nose, looking as if he was experiencing physical pain, “Y-You…you…Wh-What do you mean by want?”

Wildbreak could tell he was stalling but answered anyway, “Like, wanting to date someone, or kiss, or…” or the other thing that Wildbreak didn’t even want to think about, let alone mention.

Starscream nodded, his head moving independently of his evidently reeling thoughts, “Hmm, I see…”

Wildbreak couldn’t stand this much longer, “Please, Uncle Starscream. I-I promise I won’t tell anyone about all this. We can pretend this conversation never happened. Just answer the question…please.”

At his nephew’s reassurances, Starscream managed to gather just a bit of courage, “Well, since you’re clearly in desperate need of my help, I suppose I can…give some counsel.”

Straightening, Starscream cleared his throat once more and stared at a space that almost met Wildbreak’s eyes, but not quite.

“It’s just a…a feeling, I-I guess. Like…those cliche butterflies in your stomach. Like you’re falling but…it feels…nice…and when you l-look at them you just…want to admire and…be close…something like that. I don’t know.”

The chair grounded across the floor as Starscream shot to his feet, “This is absurd! Why do you need advice? It’s…It’s biology! Brain chemicals! Whatever! You don’t need me!”

Not even Starscream knew what he was saying anymore. His heels made a swift clopclopclop across the floor as he retreated from the room, likely to shutter himself in the guest bedroom he tended to inhabit more than his own room in his own house.

Wildbreak was left motionless at the table, able to do nothing but stare after his uncle.

It’s biology. He hadn’t even considered that. A fresh wave of dread overtook his heart. A panic attack threatened to seize his lungs and Wildbreak took several breaths, forcefully driving it away. Of course it was biology. He knew that. That didn’t mean his biology was wrong. It was just…a little late in this department, that was all. He needed more time. More than that, he needed someone to tell him it was okay to need more time.

His dad would tell him as much, but Wildbreak still couldn’t bring himself to confide in him. As supportive as he’d try to be, his father was still a hopeless romantic. How would he feel knowing his son couldn’t share those types of emptions? That his own son might never have those feelings at all? Even just a flicker of disappointment or disapproval would devastate Wildbreak.

The notion sent new energy surging through the teen, though this resolve felt much more desperate than before.

He just needed one person to tell him it was okay- one person who could tell him he wasn’t a freak. One person to tell him he wasn’t broken.

It was past his curfew. The sun, low in the sky, cast hues of orange on the yellow and purple car beneath them. Wildbreak sat just on the edge of the hood, near the bumper. Drag Strip had scooted all the way up to lean his back against the windshield. Wildbreak wanted to sit beside him, though he knew it was already a privilege to just lean on the car; Drag Strip wouldn’t risk Wildbreak smuding the paint. Wildbreak didn’t question this, even though Drag Strip was currently tapping cigarette ash on the space beside him. Oblivious, Drag Strip wiped them away and took abother drag.

They hadn’t spoken in a while. Wildbreak had called earlier asking if he wanted to hang out. The two usually hung out after school, since Drag Strip didn’t like to hang out with him during school hours. Wildbreak pretended not to mind; they had their own friends, after all, and sometimes friend groups didn’t mix. At least, that’s what Drag Strip said, and Wildbreak decided to agree. Besides, Drag Strip was a total wild card. He brought some mischief into Wildbreak’s timid way of life, even a little courage, which was something he needed now.

Inhaling deeply, he asked, “Hey, Drag Strip?”

Receiving a noncommittal grunt in response, Wildbreak plunged ahead, “Have you ever…liked someone? Like, crush-liked someone?”

He held his breath as Drag Strip took his time to respond.

“Sure,” he said at last, “Lots of people.”

Something sank in Wildbreak’s stomach, but he still asked, “When did you first start liking people like that? Was it…recently?”

That earned a laugh, which made Wildbreak shrink in on himself even more.

“No. When I was, like, nine. Had a girlfriend and everything,” His piercing gaze settled on Wildbreak. With his back turned, Wildbreak couldn’t see it, but he could feel it tear a hole through him, “Why do you ask?”

“N-Nothing, I was just…wondering…” It was too late. Drag Strip had caught on.

“You saying you’ve never had a crush?”

The disbelief in his tone made Wildbreak swallow thickly. After several tries, he managed to ask in a hushed voice, “Is that…weird?”

“Uh, yeah, dude,” Drag Strip exclaimed, “You mean you’ve never wanted to kiss anyone or-”

“No, no I haven’t,” Wildbreak cut him off quickly, terrified of where this conversation was headed.

“Wow,” Drag Strip snorted loudly, “I knew you were weird, but that’s just weird. Isn’t your dad, like, an expert on this stuff?”

Wildbreak couldn’t find it in him to respond. Drag Strip continued heedlessly.

“What’s it like? Must be weird. I can’t imagine it.”

Feeling sick, Wildbreak at last said, “I…think I want to go home now.”

“Are you actually upset right now?” Drag Strip slid down to peer at Wildbreak, who turned his face away, “Oh Primus, you are! Chill out, man. It’s not my fault you’re a freak.”

Tossing his cigarette into the dirt, he turned his back.

“Whatever. Get in the car.”

Mechanically, Wildbreak clambered into the car. Drag Strip cranked up the music and sped towards Wildbreak’s house. All the while, Wildbreak desperately tried to keep the tears in his eyes from escaping down his cheeks.

The drive home felt impossibly long, yet when Drag Strip at last pulled up on the curb outside, Wildbreak was reluctant to head inside. He did, though, not exchanging a word with Drag Strip, who couldn’t have cared less. The race car screeched behind him as shaking hands pulled out his keys. Before he’d even neared the door, it flew open to reveal a thoroughly disgruntled Knock Out.

Ducking his head, Wildbreak hurried inside while Knock Out locked the door behind them. Still not looking up, he turned to his father.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled.

That earned a huff of mirthless laughter, “I should hope so! Where were you?”

“Just hanging out with Drag Strip.”

Wildbreak didn’t need to glance up to know his dad was frowning. Knock Out had never taken to Drag Strip. While he didn’t want to police who Wildbreak could and could not make friends with, he still couldn’t hide his displeasure whenever that particular friend was mentioned.

“You’re supposed to text me where you are,” Knock Out reminded him sternly, “I haven’t heard from you since school ended! And then you missed your curfew! Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Wildbreak couldn’t help but shrink back, guilt roiling in his gut. He hated hearing his father so distraught. Knock Out was usually so collected and self-assured; knowing that he had the power to utterly shatter that image both frightened and shamed Wildbreak.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “I…forgot.”

Lying only made him feel worse. The truth was he’d been quietly avoiding his father for the past few days. It wasn’t enough to be noticeable until now; just enough so Knock Out could still assume he was talking to a son who hadn’t let him down entirely- a son who wasn’t questioning his very humanity and coming up short.

There was nowhere to hide now. Knock Out murmured something inaudible and shook his head, “You forgot…Really, that’s the best you can do? Tell me the truth, Wildbreak.”

Wildbreak could feel his father’s scrutinizing gaze pierce him to the core. Steeling himself, the teen glanced upward.

Knock Out looked tired. It was that same crushing exhaustion Wildbreak had seen a few nights ago, when he’d caught his father crying over that picture. An icy grip seized Wildbreak’s chest as Knock Out’s brows knitted with worry.

“Wildbreak-”

“I’m sorry,” his son blurted, “I forgot…what today is.”

There was a pause. Knock Out’s face grew pale; it made the bags under his eyes far more pronounced. Wildbreak felt the tears he hadn’t let fall begin to spill over. In a heartbeat, his father had him in a tight embrace. The teen squeezed his eyes shut as his dad’s soothing voice washed over him.

“It’s okay,” Knock Out breathed, then reconsidered, “Well, it’s not okay that you didn’t text me, but…all is forgiven.”

He tried to inject some levity into his tone, though Wildbreak only felt the grip on his chest grow tighter. In seconds, he found it hard to breathe. Knock Out, well-accustomed to Wildbreak’s panic attacks, instantly brought him to the couch, where he held him close and instructed him to breathe deeply. Wildbreak knew the drill, but everything that had been weighing on him the past few days was just too much to bear. Knock Out was so loving and forgiving now; what would he do if his son shared the truth? What would happen if Wildbreak confessed to how broken he was inside?

Weirdo. Freak.

“Wildbreak?” Knock Out’s voice came from far away. Wildbreak couldn’t bear it any longer.

“I’m a freak.”

There it was. Out in the open. No taking it back. When Knock Out stilled, Wildbreak held his breath, heart hammering painfully against his ribs. His father still hugged him tight and the teen relished it, knowing they might never be this close ever again.

He couldn’t keep lying, though. His father deserved the truth, after all he’d been through.

“You’re not,” the conviction in Knock Out’s tone made Wildbreak’s broken heart splinter a little more, “Why would you say that?”

Inhaling shakily, Wildbreak gathered his courage and spoke, “I’m not…I’m not like you, Dad. I’m…there’s something wrong inside me.”

Before Knock Out could interrupt, Wildbreak plunged ahead, “I don’t…feel things like you or other people. I don’t even understand those feelings! I’ve never…I’ve never had a crush. I’ve never wanted to…to do anything with anyone that’s…like that. I-I want to, Dad! Or I…I want to want to, but I’m just…I’m just…broken…”

The final word caught in his throat, nearly choking him. He felt light-headed from lack of air, though try as he might, he couldn’t manage more than a shallow gulp. Part of him actually hoped he might pass out now, just to prolong the inevitable- when he looked up and saw his father watching him with disgusted, disappointed eyes.

“Wildbreak, please look at me.”

Trembling all over, the teen slowly lifted his gaze.

Knock Out stared back. Wildbreak blinked to clear the tears from his eyes, only to see that Knock Out had tear tracks of his own. He’d made his father cry, on today of all days. He was a terrible son.

“Listen- Listen to me,” The intensity in his father’s voice made Wildbreak snap to attention. Knock Out regarded him with a look Wildbreak hadn’t expected- hadn’t hoped to expect.

Knock Out’s voice shook, but there was still a firmness that grounded them both.

“You’re not broken, okay? You’re perfectly whole just the way you are.”

Wildbreak was adrift, “B-But…”

Knock Out shook his head vehemently, “It’s okay to not have those sorts of feelings, Wildbreak. Lots of people don’t. You’re not alone. There are infinite other ways to love and you…you are the most loving person I know! You care for me, for your uncle, your friends…Honestly, I marvel at you everyday.”

A heavy sigh escaped him, “I’m…I’m so sorry that I made you feel like…like you had to have those feelings. I just get so wrapped up in myself sometimes and…and that’s not an excuse. I should never, ever have made you ashamed to be who you are, or made you think you couldn’t tell me. I’m…I’m so sorry…”

His hold on Wildbreak had slackened, like his exhaustion had finally caught up with him. Yet, as Wildbreak sat in dumbfounded silence, he realized this was far more than just weariness. The weight in his father’s shoulders was the exact same weight Wildbreak had been carrying these past few days: shame. His father was ashamed, but not of his son- of himself.

Wildbreak launched himself into his dad’s chest, wrapping his arms tight about his father’s neck. After the briefest of hesitations, Knock Out reciprocated the hug with equal fierceness.

All the weight bearing down on Wildbreak started to lift. It wasn’t gone, not entirely, but at least he could breathe again. His father, on the other hand, was breathing shallowly.

“How long have you been worried about this?” Knock Out asked, voice barely above a whisper

Wildbreak took in a lungful of air and did his best to keep his voice neutral, “Not long…I actually didn’t worry about it too much until…until a few nights ago...”

Knock Out caught the unspoken message. His shoulders tensed, and as they pulled apart, he dragged a hand down his face, “Ugh, I really messed up.”

Wildbreak went to protest; his father hadn’t meant any harm, after all. This was all a misunderstanding.

“No, I did,” he said again, “I messed up.”

Wildbreak’s words died in his throat. Knock Out continued before he could try again.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you. I honestly wasn’t thinking at all when…well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I should have been thinking; not about me, but about you.”

He sighed, “I just want you to be happy, Wildbreak, in whatever way that looks for you. I honestly don’t have any expectations either way- romance or not. I just…assumed your version of happiness would…look like mine. It was stupid of me and I’m sorry.”

Gently, he wrapped an arm about Wildbreak, who stared up into his father’s teary eyes.

“You…You mean it, Dad? You’re not…disappointed?”

His breath hitched on the last word, but Knock Out heard and shook his head.

“No, Wildbreak. You could never disappoint me, not by being who you are,” his brown eyes flashed, “Don’t ever forget that, okay? I’m proud of you. I will never stop being proud of you.”

Wilbreak felt a fresh wave of tears gather in his eyes. He let them fall as Knock Out leaned in to kiss his forehead. Despite the tears - or maybe because of them - a warm glow filled his chest. He smiled. Seeing him smile, Knock Out did, too. Everything was alright.

After countless minutes spent basking in this warmth, Wildbreak asked, “So, there are other people…like me?”

“Of course,” Knock Out enthused, “You know your Uncle Soundwave?”

Wildbreak’s eyes widened, “He’s like me?”

“Mm-hm. He’s never cared for romance or anything amorous and he’s perfectly content as he is,” There was a pause, then Knock Out added, “It may take time, but you will be, too.”

His father stated this with confidence, and this time, Wildbreak could agree fullheartedly.

“Yeah,” he said, “I will.”

Sitting up slowly, he wiped his eyes, “I’m okay, Dad.”

You can go be with Breakdown, now.

Knock Out glanced upstairs for a moment, something bittersweet passing over his face. At last, he turned back, pulling Wildbreak into him once more.

“So am I.”

Everything was alright.

#Transformers #Wildbreak AU #Transformers Prime #TFP #RID 2015 #A hint of TFA #Wildbreak #Knock Out #Starscream #Wreck-Gar #Drag Strip #TW Aphobia #TW Arophobia #Writing Entity #As always I hate the title but can't come up with anything better.#I mainly picked it because of Goof Troop not gonna lie.#Aromantic #Asexual #Aro/Ace

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cleverthylacine · 1 year

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Thylacine Robot Husband Slate

Astrotrain vs. Blaster Astrotrain. I will never marry someone who wants to kill Soundwave, and I like to travel in style.

Bluestreak vs. Skids Skids, because he would learn everything you need him to know about you.

Blurr vs. Misfire Misfire, because he's an incredibly sweet person, and he also won't come 3 times before you do and then pass out.

Brainstorm vs. Nightbeat Nightbeat, because I feel that he would try “telling you he’s interested in you” before resorting to building a time machine and trying to kill Megatron.

Breakdown vs. Ten Breakdown; they're both himbos but Breakdown is less insistent on getting his way and communicates better.

Bumblebee vs. Chromedome For my sanity I am going with Bumblebee, provided he is not the asshole Bumblebee from either Earthspark or TFA. I do not want to die horribly and then become Episode 5 of “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” and also I don’t approve of mnemosurgery and Chromedome is also the guy who tried to lobotomise Soundwave at the Institute so fuck that guy.

Cosmos vs. Crankcase Crankcase. While he is not nearly as “nice” as Cosmos, he also knows what he likes and wants and does not retract his trust at the first sign of trouble.

Cyclonus vs. Dominus Ambus Cyclonus, because he can fall in love with people who are not his slaves. I also don’t trust anyone who can blend in with the DJD enough to work with them for years and years before getting caught. He wasn’t a medic like Nickel. He had to do that job.

Censere vs. Megatron Censere, because he is kind, and also because Megatron is still obsessed with Orion Pax and would only be fun to marry if you could get both of them.

Depth Charge vs. Ultra Magnus Depth Charge knows what fun is and can even say the word without flinching.

Dinobot vs. Ratchet Ratchet, because he has an unerring moral compass and takes care of what he loves.

First Aid vs. Perceptor This is a difficult choice because I love science guys. In the end I chose Perceptor. I think First Aid would find me rather vanilla. If you’re more like Tex than me, though, Aid is your mech.

Fulcrum vs. Blitzwing The real question here is “how many husbands do you actually want?” I think polyandry could be fun, but not with the Three Faces of Blitzwing.

Hoist vs. Drag Strip Drag Strip. At least he's pretty.

Impactor vs. Mixmaster Mixmaster, because I’d rather have a husband who makes things, than a husband whose goal in life is to break things as impressively and thoroughly as possible, which is what Impactor does; also, he grew up in a mine with Megatron and he still joined the Autobots, wtf.

Knock Out vs. Powerglide Knock Out, because he moved to another planet to make his conjunx happy.

Meteorfire vs. Alpha Trion Meteorfire, because he knows how to have fun and can just say what he means.

Optimus Prime vs. Soundwave If you think there’s anyone I would choose over Soundwave you haven’t been reading this blog very long. If you think OP has a chance over Soundwave, you have clearly just now arrived here through tags or “recommended for you”.

Optimus Primal vs. Drift Drift, because he's so fucking beautiful, and even when he’s a wreck, he’s interesting.

Prowl vs. Swerve Swerve is sweet and will binge TV with me. Prowl thinks All Cops Are Bastards is an ideal to aspire to.

Rattrap vs. Starscream Starscream, because Starscream would be a difficult husband, but he’s an even more difficult boss, and you probably don’t want to deal with being married to someone who actually works for him.

Rewind vs. Hot Shot Hot Shot is entertaining. Also, if I disappear, I want my husband to hire the best detective in the universe, not watch snuff films obsessively to see if I am in them.

Rung vs. Predaking Predaking, because dragons are that fucking cool.

Rodimus Prime vs. Cheetor Rodimus, because Cheetor’s executive function is even worse than his, and I do not need any help making rash decisions, losing track of time and getting sidetracked.

Sky-Byte vs. Swindle I’m going with king shark here. Sky-Byte would write you poetry and pay for your dates. I feel like Swindle would be hot in a sleazy way and a great candidate for the fuck thing rather than the marry thing, but Sky-Byte would feed your ego and I would like that a lot.

Snarl vs. Shockwave Snarl. Unless you really want to be one of Shockwave’s experiments.

Spinister vs. Bulkhead A difficult choice. Bulkhead is stable and caring but Spinister is endlessly entertaining.

Star Saber vs. Smokescreen Smokescreen, because he doesn't have a vibranium rod up his aft.

Tailgate vs. Jazz Jazz, because he is smooth, chill, and sexy. Tailgate is cute but not sexy. He also makes dramatic painful decisions about relationships based on his terrible self-esteem without considering his partners’ likely wishes.

Tarantulas vs. Rhinox Tarantulas, and this is 100% the fault of @breakdownsbuttlights.

Thundercracker vs. Fortress Maximus Thundercracker writes fanfiction and screenplays and he dotes on his dog. What more do you want? Meanwhile, Fort Max was the warden at Garrus-9 before Overlord took over, and even after seeing everything that had happened to Grimlock, he still wanted to throw him back in jail when he found him with the Scavengers. And he only wanted to capture the Scavengers just because he thought they were Decepticons and therefore had to have done something wrong, and he can’t keep from petting the beastformers no matter how many times they say not to.

Wheeljack vs. Thunderclash Wheeljack is full of fun and mad science. Thunderclash is full of himself and supported Getaway’s mutiny.

Whirl vs. Tracks Tracks, because Whirl is exciting, but not in a good way, and you’re not as tough as either Cyclonus or Tailgate. Tracks is also a pretty good dancer.

Ambulon vs. Dreadwing Beachcomber vs. Rampage Fireflight vs. Quickstrike Heatwave vs. Hardshell Metroplex vs. Sideswipe Seaspray vs. Runamuck Springer vs. Skyfire Wasp vs. Chase No opinion. Campaign to me for your choice.

#people told me they liked my takes on round one #so here are my takes on round two #remember advice is often worth no more than you paid for it #but if it helps you decide I'm cool with that #robot husband poll

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