Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sentinel, Optimus, and Elita had all been just younglings back then. New to the world, new to life. Kup had adorned them each with names he deemed fit them best. It was like it was only last cycle that they came online, it seemed. The general still remembered the three protoforms stepping out of their pods, testing out their extremely disproportionate legs.

The first to steady himself was.. a male. He looked around, before his optics landed on his agemates. Apparently, his first instinct was to help out, as he reached out to offer an arm to each. How kind, Kup thought. One took it, and the other slapped the offered limb away. As the bot who allowed themselves to be helped succeeded, the male smiled. What an impression to make. Kup decided he would be known as Optimus.. for his optimistic demeanor or optimal character, who knew?

The one who refused the help was also a male. He had a pouty look on his face, like he wasn't quite too keen on being alive yet. After a few kliks of struggling not to tip forward due to the unfortunately ginormous chin on his face, he stood proudly, servos on his hips. Kup thought the rather arrogant behavior being shown so early was kind of cute.. for now. Besides the obvious, he had broad shoulders, and that attitude could surely change for the better. This bot would be named Sentinel, for his proud demeanor.

Now came the last. They were lean, compared to the other two. While it wasn't even his choice to make in the first place, Kup decided this one would be a femme. A nice addition to the trio. He found himself impressed by her bearing already. She had shown subtle appreciation for Optimus' help, of course, but immediately afterwards, she stood at attention. She had the neutrality and composure every soldier desired. A cold intelligence. Her pedes were clicked together, and her servo raised in a salute. Strong coding! Kup dubbed her as Elita-1, for her remarkable prowess, and for being the first lady of the batch.

The general was so sure he did a perfect job, and that his work wouldn't be defamed. Ever. Right?

_________

The Academy was never a fun place to attend, not even before the age of the new generation. It had always had, and retained, it's stuffy atmosphere. Those cold, unwelcoming colors. It was almost like it was built to tear down all ambitions, rather than build comradery and train an effective army for the sake of Cybertron.

"Reporting for duty, sir, Ultra Major!"

The cry of the anxious privates came in exact harmony, itching to either outshine eachother or blend in enough to not be noticed and picked apart. What they didn't know was that they were barely anybody yet, unworthy of any special consideration. As all soldiers were, they were merely drones. Cannon fodder given lingering hope that they could be more. Each stood shoulder-to-shoulder with their chests puffed out and arms behind their backs, awaiting orders. Elita, Optimus, Sentinel, Jazz, Cliffjumper, and Red Alert. You know these guys!

Ultra Major scoffed, slowly pacing back in forth in front of the diverse bunch. His optics scanned over them, his own sapphire blue searching their capri. The Major's visage had yet to be scuffed in the scuffles of war, so he had a relatively youthful appearance. His voice was usually what gave it away.

"So, you all think you've got what it takes to be anything more than useless?"

"Yes, Ultra Major, sir!"

"Cocky. 50 laps, go."

If they didn't know any better, there would've been a collective groan at that. They started running. Red Alert was dead last, though it didn't hurt her pride in the slightest. She knew she was fast enough, and endurance wasn't an aspiring medic's thing, anyways. Optimus and Jazz were tying for first, all in good fun. It didn't matter when everyone was doing the same scrap. Cliffjumper and Sentinel were wedged in the middle, much to their dismay. Cliffjumper considered himself and Sentinel to be equals, so he didn't mind tolerating those obnoxious huffs and puffs. Sentinel thought this was beneath him, but Cliffjumper was as close to a best friend that wasn't Optimus or Elita as he could get.

Speaking of her, yes, our dear Elita-1! Out of choice, she was the caboose, chatting it up with Red Alert and actively encouraging her to push harder. She felt herself wanting to leave everyone in the dust, to do more, but her friend mattered more. The two found great companionship in eachother, believing themselves to be the most levelheaded of the gang. Which, wasn't untrue.

Sentinel, who couldn't pass an opportunity to boost his own ego, decided to taunt them.

"Well," he panted, "Well! Look who's lagging behind! Guess you know your place, huh, girls?"

Cliffjumper snorted, sloppily highfiving him. "Good one!"

Red Alert rolled her optics, murmuring to Elita-1 that they were just trying to bother them. But Elita-1 heard none of her reassurances, only a faint ringing in her audials. There was an internal conflict inside of her, one unrelated to Sentinel's douchiness. Why was she being grouped with Red Alert? She knew she was a femme, of course, she always had been! Femme, girl, lady, whatever you want to call it. But hearing it... having confirmation that it was what she was seen as.. it felt weird. It was factual, wasn't it? So why did it feel like she was being eaten up from the inside?

Come to think of it, she had never liked being referred to with feminine pronouns. Elita-1 always felt rather patronized when it did happen.. which was pretty often, obviously. At times she wouldn't respond to them. Like they were meant for someone else. In different instances, they made her feel cornered. Like she was cornered, with no way out but forward.

"Ladies!"

"Hey, pretty girl."

"You look beautiful today."

Elita hadn't even noticed she stopped running. She had been standing there, her processor pounding in her head as she breathed hoarsely. What was wrong with her..? The voices calling out to her were barely audible, the servos on her shoulder trying to shake her out of her daze.

"ULTRA MAJOR! SIR! SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH ELITA!"

Chapter Text

A few decacycles had passed before anybody even realized it. The rookies were no longer naive and well.. rookies. Everyone was headed where they wanted, no.. needed to be! Optimus was promoted to a prime, of course, and somehow, so was Sentinel. But Elita.. wasn't. Which was frankly quite confusing, given her flawless track record. Why the exclusion, she wondered.. when deep down, she knew very well why.

Yet again, it bothered her not. It wasn't as big as an issue as her.. problem. It wasn't really a problem, per se, but she wasn't aware of that. Elita-1 found herself needing to vent, to confide in someone. No matter how much she had attempted to convince herself that it was no big deal, that it was nothing of importance.. it was.

At first, she figured she'd go to Red Alert.. but maybe the most elegantly feminine bot ever, in her humble opinion, wouldn't get not being a femme. So, she thought of the two she trusted most. Sentinel was closest, if she recalled correctly, so she headed to his quarters nervously. How would he even react? He wasn't always the most sensible..

She knocked, chewing on her lip. The doors slid open, and there stood the man of the hour himself!

"Hey, 'Lita!" He smiled, wrapping an arm around her and pulled her in. "Come in, come in. What's up?"

Elita chuckled nervously, leaning into the hold to chase the brief sensation of warmth and what she thought would be comfort.

"It's.. kinda serious."

"Oh?"

Sentinel led them over to his berth and sat, Elita beside him. The room seemed to shrink in on them.

"What if.. what if I wasn't a femme, Sentinel?"

The prime stared at her blankly for a few kliks, before bursting into a fit of laughter. He wiped imaginary tears from his optics, clearly finding this to be hilarious.

"Looks like someone's on that high grade again!"

Elita felt her spark break at that.

"What..?"

Sentinel paused in his mockery, tilting his head at her. Only then did she realize just how unlit the room was, how quiet..

"Are you.. alright? You know that stuff is for like.. weirdos. You are what you're forged as, end of story. Duh!"

She nodded slowly, forcing out an awkward chuckle. "Yeah, yeah.. Just crazy talk. I was messing with you."

___________

She stumbled out of his room, playing the part of the drunk he thought she was. She felt ashamed at the familiar feeling in her throat. The sobs were building up.. She was being such a sparkling..

Elita-1 decided that now would be a good time to go to Optimus. Surely, he wouldn't turn her away like that. She continued walking, sniffling quietly to herself.. until she bumped into him!

"Elita! Would love to chat, really would, but I've got to deliver these! Come find me later!"

"Optimus, wait-"

But with that, he sped past her, clutching various datapads in his arms. He hadn't even noticed her expression, in the slightest. She supposed it wasn't his fault.. he seemed busy.

So what? This could wait. She'd find him later, yeah..

But she never did.

Chapter Text

Archa Seven.

It was all Elita-1 could remember.. and what she had assumed was going to be her final resting place. She laid there, optics glued to the stalactites above, a strange energon-like liquid dripping down from their sides and making soft thuds in the lonely cave. How'd she get here, again..?

Oh. Like that.

Sentinel and herself had convinced Optimus to join them on the trip to the damned planet. Despite his hesitation, despite the dangers they knew were ahead, they went. The energon would be worth it, wouldn't it? And as always, if they were together, they could handle anything.

Sure, there were some creepy aft webs, but they hit the motherload of energon! Well, not before Optimus had gotten himself stuck in some
of those same webs. Being the good friend she was, Elita-1 came to the rescue! Until..

They found.. no, rather, were ambuscaded.. By these.. araneiforms. Elita recalled being microquads away from one, it's chelicerae clicking together. It seemed malicious at the moment, but her scientific mind couldn't help but wonder if it was really such a bad creature. Was it's cognitive function even high enough to have malicious intent in the first place? Perhaps it was scared, or just defensive.

Elita's thoughts were interrupted by Sentinel putting up his shield, momentarily holding the aliens off. Not ones to stand around and be foolish, her and Optimus ran. But run as much as they did, they were cornered yet again. Quickly, though, they figured out that the energon was highly combustible, and so the Prime used the cubes as incendiary projectiles. It thankfully worked, deterring the creatures!

They took this opportunity to flee, Optimus grappling upwards and Elita using her ability to copy the action. Her forearm flickered for a moment, and then.. the aegis faltered. She suddenly felt herself falling, back into the sea of eyes and legs waiting for her. The moment felt much slower than it was, her lips parting to let out a sickening scream. Her servo reached out, as if to grab onto something, but Optimus wasn't quick enough.

She felt herself hit the ground, explosions billowing around her. Elita somewhat hoped that they would get to her first, that she'd feel nothing but a hot blast before her limbs were blown off and spread out across the deep underbelly of the planet. But that would be all too easy, wouldn't it?

As she stood, she felt fangs piercing various parts of her body, a sharp ache of pain immediately consuming her being. Her metallic externals softened so horribly, so quickly, becoming a exoskeleton. And just as instantaneously, expanded. It was an agony Elita did not believe to be possible yet, until it was inflicted on her. The moment was very raw, very real. Death would have been more merciful, she was sure of it now.

Her body was contorting in ways that were certainly not natural, growing, and growing, and GROWING! Her new form was becoming beastly, one that was rapidly changing to fill in all the new appendages and elongated limbs. The corners of her mouth trembled as they burst open, chelicerae matching the very pair she had admired earlier sprouting in place of the gaps. Her view of the world around her changed greatly, in the most literal sense of the phrase. Elita's head throbbed as new pairs of optics split open, and she saw much. Too much. She felt dizzy, the nausea adding onto her torture.

The technorganic gagged, her chest heaving as she fell back onto the ground. An extra pair of legs would've caught her, if it weren't for her new abdomen cushioning the fall. Well, atleast she knew why her fueltank felt so empty now.. And she made a much louder clunk than she thought she would. Why did she feel so.. sluggish? Like she just wanted to sleep forever, since that nasty pain had drained her of all the lifeforce she believed she had left..

Yes, a nap..

Which led her to now. Elita-1 pushed herself onto her knees, looking around. She spotted a small puddle of energon, and crawled to it. When she looked down at her reflection, she saw someone she didn't recognize. She saw a shadowy orchid complexion reflecting against the surface. She saw almost too many red optics that gave a glow off reminiscent to that of a Decepticon's. She winced at that, lifting a servo to poke at a chelicera. Elita gasped. Her servo was.. huge!

She sat back, looking down at herself. Just how big was she, now? She was delicately built no more, that was obvious. The technorganic was now bulky, with a barely perceptible fuzz covering her new.. skin? She wasn't sure..

Elita leaned forward once more to look at herself again, to take a real good look. And she didn't see a her anymore, but who was hiding inside. Waiting to be freed. She saw.. a they. A them?That felt.. right. Disgusting as they were, they were real. The way to be happy, to be free. The authentic them..

Blackarachnia.

Chapter Text

Blackarachnia had been tiding themself over by feeding on their counterparts, remains scattered across the planet. It was like a sick role reversal. Archa Seven was primitive, and bare of anything useful. They were stuck there for eternity, they thought. An eternity with themselves wouldn't have seemed so bad if they weren't aware of how easy it is to go mad.

They found themselves exploring the surface in their new alt mode, adjusting to it surprisingly quick. Trying to find something, anything.. that wasn't another hill leading to an opening was tedious. But alas, they had no such luck. Blackarachnia felt hopeless, until they heard a deafeningly loud hum. Their gaze was drawn up, only to be met with a ship. A huge, intimidating one. It was black with purple accents, alike themselves. That couldn't have been the Autobots.. no, it was the Nemesis.

For the first time in a while, they were struck with fear. Decepticons?! What could they want? Unless, of course, they heard about the energon. That seemed plausible. The Nemesis landed, opening slowly. A strip of it extended out, acting as a ramp. Blackarachnia observed as the 'cons began to step out, some recognizable, some not.

"Here, Lord Megatron! Just ahead. The energon signal is off the charts! Aren't I brilliant?"

Okay, that one was easy. That squeaky voice couldn't be anyone but Starscream. Boy, would she be shocked to figure out what happened to come WITH the energon!

Following right behind her was.. Shockwave, if they recalled correctly. Not much was known about the scientist..

The third out was Megatron, of course. Blackarachnia had only ever heard of him in their time as an Autobot, and by golly.. he sure was more intimidating in person. He had an unimpressed scowl on his face, like he was upset with the fact that Starscream had done good.

By Megatron's side was this shockingly big.. brute, Blackarachnia deduced. He stared at Megatron with an adoring look in his optic.. or optics? They'd go with the latter, figuring the smaller ones on the side of his head counted.

And lastly, was another.. seeker, it seemed? They looked a little odd.. but purple and beige were the new chic, Blackarachnia supposed. They stayed to the back, quiet and unconcerned.

The technorganic kept to the shadows, chittering quietly in analysis of the intruders. They were deciding whether to stay hidden or to flee, when Megatron's head snapped to the side. The warlord's gaze landed directly on them, and he laughed derisively. He aimed his cannon, before demanding,

"Step forward, creature. It's impolite to spy."

Blackarachnia swallowed nervously, crawling out into the light. The Decepticons all gave various reactions at the sight of them.

Starscream grabbed onto Shockwave's arm, wings shooting up in alarm. Shockwave only craned their neck forward to get a better look.

The bulky bot shuffled in front of Megatron defensively, while the other seeker stepped forward, their mouth parted in an 'o'.

Blackarachnia decided now would be a better time than ever to show that they weren't a mindless beast. They transformed, their impressive form easily towering over the group.

Megatron's optics widened.. before his expression relaxed, and he smirked.

"I had no idea you were one of us. My sincerest apologies, Miss..?"

They hesitated for a moment, before replying as confidently as they could. "Not a miss.. or a sir. It's Blackarachnia."

The warlord nodded. "Again, my apologies."

"My liege, why are you treating this bea-"

"Quiet, Lugnut. Go bother Blitzwing, or start retrieving that energon.. just do something. You get what I mean, go be useful!"

Well, now they could fill in the gaps and put names to faces. Blackarachnia didn't quite like this.. Lugnut, no. He walked off like a wounded dog.

Megatron turned back to them. "So, Arachnia.. if I may call you that, what brings you to this quaint little planet?"

"Oh, you know, I just happened to get stranded. Real fun stuff."

He chuckled. This newcomer not only had some brawn, by the looks of it, but some spunk to match. While the other Decepticons headed off to go acquire some cubes and be met with a little surprise, Megatron turned back to the ship and gestured with a servo.

"Come. Let's walk and talk. I have some.. opportunities in store for you."