literature

Sick as a Hound [RQ]

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Literature Text

         Viruses were not something easily spread through Cybertronians. Plagues upon Cybertron had had hyperactive bugs and were genetically engineered to spread through every mean. Spewed forth into the air, spat in the Energon, injected, hacked up. It had been easy then to get someone critically ill to something mass produced by diabolical Decepticons. The diseased would have no mercy; they would take from any faction and caused great devastation.
         But normal diseases, that was another story.
         It was worse being sickly when you’re a high-energy individual, as Novastrike found out. The Techno Organic femme had experienced being ill quite easily in her former, completely organic body. She had dealt with it then; moping but moving on to her day to day routines as required of her.
         However, being sick human was also a lot easier. It lasted a shorter amount of time. It was something that happened often enough to be disgruntled, but move on with your day.
         Nova had been living this new life in this new world long enough to only be discharged from active duty due to injuries. Being told by a medic that you were too frail and sickly to do anything but rest was a challenge. Even more so when she was so used to getting up and immediately going to the training hall to leap into her assignments.
         Now, all the white lioness femme got to do was lay upon her mate’s berth and feel lonely and unsettling. Her frame ached all over, her audios rang, and she could hardly pick up a scent. The world span wildly out of control if she moved too fast and her motor controls were lacking.
         To top off all of her other pathetic sufferings, she could hardly catch a wink of recharge and her tanks refused to keep Energon down very long. She was exhausted and felt like someone had been dragging her across a landscape of pure Energon shards without her armor on.
         Rolling over from her front to her back restlessly; her thoughts entangled with violence and anger, ‘Striker gave a vent of frustration. Bored out of processor, her tail whipping wildly around in a display of annoyance. She almost hoped to get someone else sick; at least then she wouldn’t be the only one on the Nemesis lying around feeling useless.
         Her audios twitched slightly as her brooding thoughts of ripping out someone’s jugular was interrupted by a familiar sound. Heavy pedes were heading in the direction of the room. Pedes she recognized like no other.
         Normally she would have leapt at the opportunity to meet her mate at the door. She didn’t have the injury or will however and simply let out an irked growl while placing her servos over her faceplate. Blackout was probably only returning to gather some supplies he needed, or to offer her some Energon which she doubted would stay in her tanks for more than a few jours; if that. He didn’t need to be around her anyway; as the last person she would want to see catching her virus would be her mate.
         The Decepticon Hound entered like the rolling thunder of a great storm. His measured steps were professional and timed. If he were human, most would not only be intimidated by his size in aspect to those around him but the imposing air about the mech. He was built bigger and heavier than even his own master and had a stare that was cold and brittle.
          Yet the large Cybertronian was not all darkness and forbidding eeriness. As soon as his crimson optics lay upon the white fluffy figure that was shifting with restless discomfort upon his berth, his expression grew soft. It was like a complete change overtook his demeanor and suddenly his shoulders dropped and his the light from his optics shimmered with a new sort of light.
          Shuttering her optics tiredly, Novastrike glances up to her mate as he shuffles over instead of his usual stride. For someone so delicate and small, she held no source of fear towards this mech. He could crush her in his servo or snap her in half in the blink of an eye but she only met his gaze in equal measure as he looked upon her.
         “What do you want?” She snapped sourly.
         “So much for ladylike manners,” Blackout instantly muttered in response with a roll of his optics.
         Narrowing her optics, the white femme huffs loudly as she flops to turn away from the deep onyx hued one. She wasn’t going to bother with him or argue; she didn’t have the energy to even try.
         Bending down to better look upon the fidgety form of his mate, Blackout raises an optic ridge as he speaks up, “You look awful.”
         “Thanks for your concern,” Nova immediately growls back.
         Shrugging his massive shoulders uncertainly, the Decepticon Hound carefully reaches out to hover his servo just a few feet over the tiny femme. A surprising amount of warmth was transpiring from her like a fever.
         Frowning deeply with worry, the huge black armored mech slips his blunt digits around her fragile form and moves to scoop her up. Even when she begins to flail, startled and grumbling, he shifts his servo to better cup around her as he raises his servo up to press against the front of his chassis.
         Mewling pathetically now, Nova attempts to weakly kick at her mate’s digits as her tanks roll and twist like she was going to hurl. What little shine came forth from her navy blue optics was dull and flashing uncertainly while she struggled for freedom. Her usually snowy white, clean fur was so filthy and unkept that it left smudges of dirt upon Blackout’s dark armor as she wrestled around his digits.
         “Put me back on the berth you big idiot!” she hisses furiously while twisting and grappling against his servo and stubbornly pushing at his chassis.
         Being the uncooperative aft that Blackout was, his sole reply was a resonant deep and strong baritone humming from deep within his Spark Chamber. His digits; massive in comparison to her own, found the curvature of her backstrut and pressed against it as he rubbed and caressed the length of her spine. He didn’t mind the streaks of dirt upon his servo or his chassis as his armor shook beneath the depths of his Spark’s low noted tune.
         It was impossible to resist him, Nova realized helplessly. She was tired and weak, and even if she wasn’t so groggy from sickness she always gave in to him so easily. Especially his touch. The glorious feel of his digits digging into her sore backstrut made her go limp and give a rumbling purr even as she swatted at his chassis. Sagging into newfound bliss like it was her very first time feeling the texture of her mate’s armor against her; she collapsed into his hold and gave a throaty little moan of relief.
         “Better?” the Hound asked with a grin.
         Groaning even louder in ecstasy, ‘Striker curls her tail up as the coils of tension in her body released. “Ooohh,” she breathed; unable to form words. It felt like she was melting into a pile of smelted metal.
         Chuckling in a rich, cascading but powerful rumble, the Decepticon Hound looks down with amusement in his gaze through the gapes in his digits as he watches his mate. The heat that was swimming off of her form was concerning but Knock Out had previously said that all she could do was to recharge and try pushing through. Her bug wasn’t considered dangerous or life threatening, just bad enough to make her miserable and leave him concerned with a tightening worry in his Spark when he had to leave her alone in here.
         Deeply pleased to see her at least responding though, Blackout continues to stroke her form with reassurance to soothe her body aches as he turns for his private wash rack. He was there within moments; taking lengthy steps inside of the room with his mate hidden against his form. The Decepticon Hound took a few moments to fiddle with the controls for the shower to turn on and let the water turn hot and steamy.
         Nova refocused her optics in the foggy atmosphere of the wash rack. She could hardly see anyway; her optics attempting to hopelessly recalibrate only to whirr back previous settings. Frustrated by her broken down and weary body, Novastrike paws at her mate’s chassis with a confused grunt just as the water struck upon her form.
         She shivered hard as the pounding waterfall descended upon her. It didn’t take more than a few nanoclicks before she was utterly drenched and her fur sopping. ‘Striker’s form was now dripping a brown dusty gush of water as her derma chattered and her servos once again worked to try shoving Blackout’s digits away so she could leap out from the bath.
         “Sit still,” the Hound demanded in what most would consider a sinister grunt. He reached out to grab some of the cleansing supplies that Duskwalker had made for Nova; fumbling and nearly dropping the accursed tiny things. Having no way to open it and not seeing Novastrike as being considerate enough to do so when she already was trying to jump for the floor, Blackout grasps the tiny bottle and crushes it just above Novastrike.
         Globs of thick soap suddenly plop down upon the femme’s helm and down her back as she squeaks and tries rubbing it from her optics. Fussing to herself in quiet grumbles and growls, Novastrike’s audios swivel to the sound of the sound of the now empty bottle hitting the floor in a clatter as she works on ridding toe lather from her faceplate.
         Blackout slowly unfurls his digits that were surrounding Novastrike to check on her before both of his servos come down, brushing and kneading into her form. The soap became a frothy, bubbly lather into her fur and over her armor as she arched with a partly pleasured and partly upset whimper up and into his digits.
         “Mmm… B-Blackout s-stop,” Nova hiccups miserably as she’s pushed around and flopped down onto her back. The motion made her tanks pitch unexpectedly.
         Whining still as her mate tickles her tummy by massaging the suds all over, the white lioness femme wiggles while pushing at his digits once again. She could feel hot bile in her throat and the world was starting to blur and unexpectedly flip in her vision. Her weak little hiccups continuing as the blunt digits moved against her until Nova couldn’t take it anymore and she gagged; retching until hot vomit spilled out and onto Blackout’s chassis.
         There was no mistaking the Hound’s immediate look of disgust for anything else. He didn’t overreact though; seeing the droopy, mortified expression on his mate’s faceplate as her optics lowered and her ears flattened against her helm.
         “… At least you got out of your system before we got out of the shower.”
         Pressing her audios further against her helm in response, the femme stiffens all over as her mate removes her from his chassis and places her upon his shoulder. She wanted to crawl over to his neck cables and curl up there, but found herself too humiliated and instead curled up into a tight ball as Blackout got his own wash and took the time to quickly scrub himself off and make sure there was no silver, sticky purged Energon left upon his form before seeing to her once again and washing off the remainder of the soap as best he could from the rigid femme.
         Venting out steam into the warm room as he concluded, the Decepticon Hound shut off the shower and treaded carefully over to a unit that blasted warm air over himself and Novastrike’s; whose gleaming fur coat soon became a fluffed up cotton ball. An angry one at that, as she gave a very dark and ominous look to her mate who couldn’t help but snicker at how such a fierce little being came to look so fluffy and ridiculous with her fur all poofed out. He tried to flatten it some as the warm air buffeted their bodies but it made little difference he soon realized as the droplets of water and condensation was either evaporated or blown free of his form.
         Still appearing quite livid, ‘Striker yielded to Blackout’s digits as he rubbed the fur as flat as he could manage down her body. She would have preferred to be brushed and have that fur-softening leave-in conditioner-like spray her sister gave her put on but being as infected as she was, she couldn’t complain. She’d probably be a mess within a cycle anyway; covered in more layers of dirt and her fur matted with purged Energon.
         He gave up on trying to make her coat look like it could lay flatter. Ceasing his full-body rubs for the moment, the opaque mech carries his downy soft femme out from the wash racks and back to the berth to take a seat.
         Blackout holds Novastrike close to his chassis once more while emitting another profound and hauntingly beautiful humming sound from his Spark. His digits move carefully around her form to try putting her in a more comfortable laying position as he pets the top of her helm with great care. There was a little smile on the mech’s faceplate as he watched her jerk slightly and roll to his touch, whichever way he pushed her. She was little a Sparkling kitten compared to her usual self, who would be kick to correct being pushed around by anyone.
         A surprising, hushed whisper came from Nova after a moment of quietly listening to Blackout’s Spark in which she murmured, “You can put me down now.”
         The large mech simply shook his head. “I’ve got you.”
         “Don’t you have work to do?” Novastrike reasonably inquired.
         “Taking care of you, yes,” Blackout replied in an even tone.
         Snorting in a way that said she wasn’t buying it, ‘Striker rolls her dim navy blue optics. Her processor was trying to work on a comeback to that or some sort of remark against him when she felt the nudge of her mate against the bond; prodding her for access.
         Stupidly, Nova wasn’t considering her current situation. A wall simply crumbled between them. All he had to do was ask, and she melted to his whim. It was something she longed for even when she wasn’t thinking about it. It was the connection she craved; the attention she desired more than anything else.
         Nothing ever made her feel more whole and complete than this.
         Blackout was momentarily overwhelmed with the lethargic display of Novastrike’s mind. No two things seemed to connect in a complete run of thought. It was like looking into a horrible puzzle or a riddle that didn’t have a possible or logical answer within its walls.
         On top of the confusion was the pain. To the Hound it wasn’t much, but the fact it was a constant throb was quite bothersome. He could feel it rattling into healthy systems; making him feel run down and making his entire frame recalibrate with confusion. Along with the all over body ache and diminished processor capability, there was a sloppy, uncharacteristically bitter feeling flowing through Nova.
         Blackout’s thoughts and concerns flowing through Novastrike jolted her right out of her tranquility. She moved to shut him out of the bond; to seal him away so he wouldn’t see how dim she was and didn’t have to feel the misery that was plaguing her own body.
         Nova didn’t even get the chance before a sweeping sensation of healthy poured into her. The Decepticon Hound draining some of his vitality and stamina into her weakened form and awakening a sense of reality back into Novastrike’s form. She felt, falsely, a little more aware of the world around her and was left feeling better for the moment.
         Accepting that his femme did not however want him lingering, Blackout retreated and closed off his end of the bond. He felt tired now, but pleased with himself as he looked down to Novastrike. Her helm perked up between his servos and jerked around as her senses returned to almost normal. The energy would slowly fade out of her again, but it would help her feel better and keep her alert; especially with her lack of being able to hold down Energon to restore her health.
         Glancing up to Blackout’s faceplate as he stared down upon her, Nova reaches out with a servo to touch one of his digits gratefully. “You didn’t have to do that.”
         “I know I didn’t,” Blackout stated, “I wanted to.”
         Touched, the femme purrs rustily as she presses her cheek against the bend in one of his digits. Seeing her smile warmed every inch of Blackout’s cold, hateful, foul Spark and he found himself intoxicated and smiling back despite how woozy he now felt. There was something about her happiness that captured him and held him in a trance. He wanted to see her happy; to share that happiness with her and be the one to bring those smiles to lips that shone all the way up into her optics.
         The baritone thunder of Blackout’s humming Spark grew louder as his digits moved, pressing once more into his mate’s back and rubbing. She was far more accepting this time; curling up into his servo and nuzzling against the rough texture of his digits. She was beautiful in every way; from the little ways she showed her appreciation to her form to the way she experienced joy and shared it. Even sickly, she was still absolutely the most beautiful creature Blackout had ever seen in his life, and he wondered how he had gotten so lucky to have someone as unique and special as her in his existence. After all he’d done, he didn’t deserve what he shared with this femme.
         In moments, Novastrike’s own Spark began to hum. The harmony of her lively soprano ringing out was like a symphony of the most gorgeous song wrapping around the two Sparkmates. Nova found herself fading into relief. She felt conscious of the world around her for the first time in quite some time, and had this handsome, frightening figure to thank for it. Even when she refused and snipped at him her disapproval, he didn’t listen to her and followed through for her.
         And she knew, not just from their actions or from their time together but through the bond and the way Blackout was careful but unsure of himself that, even now that they had been together for a long time he still was very much mindful to what he did to her. He was careful with her to not bring out a negative reaction if he could help it, or to not hurt her feelings even though he was still just learning how to use and experience his own. At times he was still the stubborn but attractive aft she had originally fallen for who wouldn’t listen to her worth a damn but he did it out of love now instead of annoyance.
         They loved in equal measures of infinity; beings from two different backgrounds of two distinct differences and similarities. It was like an endless flow that somehow managed to grow even in the darkness like a flowers bloom under false moonlight. Every day a little more was there to appreciate and see that wasn’t there before.
         Sighing softly, Novastrike peeked up to her mate’s smiling expression. Their optics of red and blue clashing just as much as the song their Sparks made together. Holding each other’s gaze for a while before Blackout’s smile turned to a frown and he reached up to the side of his helm.
         Frowning herself now, Nova opened and closed her mouth slowly as she watched her mate’s expression change. He seemed annoyed with something, and after letting out a faint snarl of exasperation he drops his servo back down beside the one containing his mate.
         Unexpectedly, Blackout swings his legs quickly onto the berth; causing ‘Striker to give a little yelp of shock. She looks around wildly, not understanding what was going on until her mate moves to lay back and drags his servo containing Nova up with him to lay her upon his chassis, just above his Spark Chamber, and cover her gently with his servo.
         “What was that about?” the furry white femme asks with surprise still written on her faceplate.
         “Nothing important.”
         “What do you mean ‘nothing important’?”
         The mech vented sharply, but gave no response.
         “Blackout?” Nova chided questioningly.
          “Hmm?”
         “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”
         The Decepticon Hound vented once again and offlined his optics in a flash of crimson light. “Let’s take a nap.”
         Already putting two and two together, Novastrike rolls her optics and slips all the way onto her tummy. The heat and rolling notes of Blackout’s Spark resounding in her form and making her shiver.
         “You’re not going to get in trouble for this, are you?” she whispered softly.
         “No,” Blackout replies in an exhausted slur. “If they ask, I was already in recharge. It was just the drones anyway; they can handle it on their own.”
         “And if Lord Megatron asks?” Nova’s barely audible voice urges worryingly; feeling a gnawing guilt in her Spark as well as concern.
         The Hound is quiet for a few moments, and in those moments the femme wonders if Blackout already fell asleep on her. When he finally replies, his voice is rough and the sound of his Spark’s humming growing quiet as he says, “Recharging.”
         There was no arguing with the mech. Rolling her optics yet again; Novastrike curls up a little more on her mate’s chassis. As she does so she can’t help but smile, feeling her mate naturally readjust his servo to conform over every inch of her frame protectively. She had enough confidence and ability in herself now to know how to take care of herself, but he was always considerate of her. He may not worry like he once may have for her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care or didn’t bother to show it wherever he could.
         “I’m not gonna feel sorry for you when you get into trouble,” Nova fibbed as she offlined her own optics and snuggles up closer; the sound of her own Spark growing silent as well.
         Blackout laughed deeply but quietly for a moment in reply; too tired to talk. He wasn’t concerned in the least, and doubted that he would find himself in any trouble. Lord Megatron would come calling before he came looking, and to that call he would hail if it came.
         But for now he found himself more than happy to just rest with his sickly mate. Blackout and Novastrike soon fell into a deep slumber of parallel worlds as dreams filtered through them while they slept.

Request for :icontwisted-obsession:



Silly play on words for a title is cute.
Also, you hand me something OTP related and expect me not to do it? Yeahno.

Considering I'm ill, the words ran pretty fluidly (no pun intended). I got a little emotional at one part but when I'm sick I tend to be emotionally drained and capable of crying at anything sometimes so that's not surprising.
I love my two precious bby's ;u; <3

© Transformers - Hasbro
© Novastrike - RoyalBlackheart
© RoyalBlackheart
Comments3
Twisted-Obsession's avatar
Heeee, so much adorbs >w<
I thought you'd enjoy doing some OTP fluff ;P And I certainly enjoyed reading it. These two are so fricken' cute together it should be illegal >w<
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