Rating: Mature
Warnings: violence and death, innuendo, destruction
Megatron/Reader(You) as a neutral during the war
B is for Begging
You pushed with every ounce of strength left in you at the massive slab of debris that pinned you in place, cringing when it shifted minimally, revealing how severe the damage to your leg was. Plating was cracked and curled, pulled away from the mesh and cables beneath, all of which looked severed and mangled. It was hard to tell if it was salvageable with energon pooling so quickly in the wound, making it impossible to properly assess. Your helm was spinning, vision flickering as you came dangerously close to passing out. You shook yourself and continued to push, knowing that going into stasis now would result in you draining out.
Primus it hurt, so fragging much!
Nowhere was safe anymore, war creeping across the planet faster than a rust plague. All around you came the sounds of others as they stumbled through the wreckage, along with the ever present siren that blared in the distance. Your called out for help as you continued to attempt freeing the trapped appendage.
Suddenly there was a sharp cry, followed by the panicked scrambling and screams of many other bots. From your place on the ground, you pushed yourself up minimally, peering over the mound of rubble to see what was happening. Your spark nearly stopped as you saw the soldiers, noted the insignia that decorated their frames.
Decepticons.
Snapping your mouth shut, you threw yourself back down, trying to control your shaking as you were forced to listen to them mercilessly gun down civilians. Soon enough there were no more voices, only the shuffle of pedesteps and the shifting of debris as they searched for other survivors. Several kilks passed in aching slowness, and for a brief, glimmering moment you hoped they would miss you, until a soft, whispering hum drew nearer. You gaped in horror as a small airborne figure flew overhead, stopping as it noticed you. The creature let out a low whir, and soon after a dark, angular mech appeared from the same direction, pausing to look down at you. You shivered, noting the way he moved nearly soundlessly, and the visor that concealed his face. The little deployer hovered closer before returning to its larger host, fixing itself neatly against his chest plating.
He turned away from you, making no move to attack. You hadn’t the time to feel relieved as the sound of another approaching made you instantly queasy, your tank churning at their heavy steps rocked the very ground beneath you. When his hellish red optics met yours... you knew in an instant who you were looking at. You’d seen his likeness portrayed everywhere since before the war had even started, but there was nothing that could’ve prepared you for this. Seeing him in person, here, in front of you, sent fear like you’d never known into every inch of your frame.
He assessed you for a moment, scanning you for what you could only assume was an insignia of your own. When he found none he scowled. It was no secret he despised neutrals, some might argue even more than he despised Autobots. He found their unwillingness to participate in the war cowardly. When he reached down you thought for certain you were done for, but then he grabbed hold of the debris holding you in place and lifted it with ease. While the fact you were no longer being crushed was a positive development, the instant the pressure on your leg disappeared the circulation of energon began anew, spurting from your wound and bringing with it a whole new wave of pain.
You hissed, reaching up to clutch at your leg and fumbling to stifle the flow. His massive servo slipped around your neck a moment later, hoisting you off the ground. You released the injury to pry futilely at his digits as they began to tighten, optics going wide as you realized his intent. Your frame dangled from his grasp, one functioning leg kicking in a pitiful fashion as he began to crush you.
“P-Please!!” you whimpered.
He laughed deeply. “There is no room for indecision in a war.”
Your struggles did not seem to hinder him in the slightest, the enormous mech watching your plight with twisted satisfaction. Again you pleaded, “No! I don’t w-want to offline. Please! Please stop!”
His grip tightened ever so slightly, and you cried out as you felt the sharp edges of his claws slice the cabling of your neck.
“Are you prepared to become of use to me?”
The only thing you could think of in that moment was survival, and you gave a weak nod. His grin was sinister, as he turned and deposited you in the servos of two soldiers. Megatron nodded to the slightly smaller mech at his side, whose visor flashed a series of coordinates before a groundbridge opened up just a ways ahead.
“Ensure this one is taken to our medic immediately. They are in need of repair.”
As you’re hauled away, he speaks to you once more, his words ominously low. “Let’s see how sweetly you can beg when you’re functioning at full capacity.”
A part of you wishes you’d just let him off you.
Yes
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