Will you look into the mirror?
Title: Shattered Glass: Twisted Beauty. (1/1)
Rating: R
Warnings: Implications of violence, physical and mental abuse, and a bit of gore. Implied non-con/dubious con. Weirdness all around.
Pairings: Hound x Mirage.
Characters: Hound, Mirage, mention of Optimus Prime.
Summary: They are both outcasts and oddballs among their peers, both find solace in each other, even if in strange ways.
Notes: This is my take on Shattered Glass Mirage and Hound, written as a gift for naggingfishwife. And no, the non-con is not about these two.
Not Beta'ed so, feel free to correct me.
"You can have me if that's what you want," Mirage muttered dispassionately, only mildly shaking perhaps in revulsion, weakness, or a combination of both. The traces of other mechs having their way with the lithe mech evident for all to see. What was one more this cycle after all he had already put up with?
Hound arched an optic ridge at the unexpected offer. What was he to say? Was the other only looking for his protection perhaps? Preferring to give himself to him than to be ravaged over and over by their peers again?
They were both oddballs among their kind, neither fully fitting but both in different ways. Mirage was just not brash and harsh enough to be an Autobot, and Hound knew it was only fear what drove him to pick this side. He could be a formidable foe, if it were in his nature to be a warrior.
Among the Autobots, Mirage was nothing but an outcast, a weak, pitiful mech that did not have the bearings to crush the enemy, someone not convinced of their cause, and as such he was the unwilling outlet of their teammates temperaments and twisted desires. They always went after him in packs, none ever granting him the smallest of fighting chances. Ravaged, beaten, insulted, he was their punching bag, and Mirage had no choice but to take it. To defect to the Decepticons would mean his deactivation in painful and tortuous ways, and although among the Autobots his life was not much better, Mirage did not want to die just yet. Optimus Prime oversaw personally that Mirage would not forget the fate that awaited the defectors and those who challenged his ways and views. Shortly after Mirage dared to question the cause, citing his worries the goals were not being reached, the once beautiful mech began to sport a mask covering the upper half of his face plate.
Hound wasn't much different, he was a vicious warrior while in the heat of the battle, sociopath, taciturn, with an optic for beauty in the oddest of things, things his peers did not understand nor share. He knew himself to be disliked, feared, and misunderstood, but he did not care, he was only with the Autobots because he did not fit among the Decepticons and their softer nature. He couldn't care less for the cause, his loyalty was for no one but himself, and for all he cared, Prime could keel over dead that same cycle. He cared for nothing and no one but himself and the things that interested him.
A wounded turbo fox had been one of his priced possessions, he found a twisted beauty in that mutilated creature and tended to it with such care and tenderness that belittled his aggression and raw brutality in the battle ground. He found peace for his spark in the soothing power of the creature's dependency on him. His pet however, was heavily disliked and hardly tolerated among the other Autobots, bringing about a fool who claimed to be putting the little thing out of its misery by killing it. The mech was found in pieces scattered across the headquarters the next cycle, ever since nobody dared to disturb him, address him unless absolutely necessary and kept far away from anything he showed interest in.
"If you're not going to do anything, would you let me pass?"
Hound's bright red optics narrowed a little, shaking his head as he extended a hand to Mirage. The smaller mech repressed another shudder, this one not of disgust, but of weakness and pain, he hurt so much he couldn't even begin to describe it. Still, he accepted the offered hand, preferring to get this over with so he could move to his quarters and tend to his injuries.
He gasped as he found himself pulled close to the bulkier frame, not daring to look up at the mech who held him, just waiting patiently for all to be over.
"I'm not fragging you if that's what you're worried about." Hound brought his fingers under Mirage's chin, tilting it up so he could meet the pale optics. "You may come to my quarters, you'll be undisturbed there."
Mirage's optics flickered on and off in confusion, he couldn't remember ever hearing this mech speak, his voice was gruff, raspy, and yet there was something about it that seemed almost soothing. "Why?"
"You interest me." Hound admitted both to Mirage and himself. He had never felt attraction for mech's normally considered beautiful, good looking, attractive mechs failed to interest him, he found little attraction towards any of them, interfacing was the least of his concerns, and he rarely engaged in the act even before he joined Optimus Prime's faction. Yet Mirage attracted his interest, and although even for his unusual standards Mirage was a beautiful mech, Hound still felt interested in him, brought about that need to care and be tender to a disabled, dependant creature.
Mirage wasn't sure what to think of the other mech's words, but he did not feel like challenging him or questioning him, if he was offering him his quarters for security or just a lie to get him on his berth, the smaller mech just did note care for the time being, he just wanted to tend to his injuries as soon as possible and recharge away the pains of his existence.
He allowed himself to be led to Hound's quarters, not bothering to observe the interior and furniture, merely following.
"I am curious." Hound's voice garnered Mirage's attention, and the lithe one looked up. "Why do you wear the mask, what do you hide behind it?"
"My shame," Mirage replied right away, brushing black fingers along the edge of the mask. "They call me disgusting, despicable, ugly."
"Show me this disgrace of yours, I want to see it." Hound knelt before Mirage, red optics locking with pale golden.
Mirage wanted to say no, but he no longer had the strength or the will to refuse anything, not for the cycle at least, besides he had been taken while forced to look at his reflection without the mask, nothing this mech could say about it would be much worse. Carefully he removed the mask, setting it down to reveal scarred, partially melted plating exposing circuitry, cabling and skeletal structure.
"Beautiful." Hound murmured, bringing a hand up to trace the scars with a tenderness Mirage never expected from a warrior feared even among the Autobots.
"I'm not." Mirage shook his head a little, but still allowed the other mech to look at him.
"You are," Hound replied brushing gentle fingertips along the damaged plating with tenderness, soothing away pain the dermal plating stopped registering long ago. "You're gorgeous."
The deformed mech would have quirked an optic ridge if he had any left. "You're odd." Somehow Mirage's voice held a slight tone of... amusement perhaps? Fondness?
"So I've been told." Hound rose and sat besides Mirage on the berth, cupping his face and thinking about how beautiful the other was with and without the mask, how vulnerable, how frail. "I like you." He pressed scarred lips in soft, feathery kisses along the plating, both the smooth and almost flawless along with the scarred and melted plating.
"You're not going to ravage me like the others?" Mirage asked, feeling the strange texture of Hound's lip components brushing so gently along his face. He could feel the deep indentation of the scar marring the mech's lips, it felt so strange, so good. He found the touches were not repulsive or unwanted, and Mirage wondered if it was just his weariness or if there was something different about this mech.
"I don't crave for that." Hound's lips nipped tenderly at Mirage's chin, having avoided his lip components all this time. "I find no pleasure in that."
"What brings pleasure to you, Hound?" Mirage dared to bring a hand up to still the wandering lips, brushing a finger along the other mech's scar, observing the scar fit the mech's face.
"I can show you, if you'll let me."
Mirage nodded, intrigued now by this mech that was both strange and fascinating and was making him feel well, not so weary anymore. "Show me."
Hound's dispassionate optics glowed to life, as a little smile graced his lips. "With pleasure," he murmured before he claimed Mirage's lips a most tender and chaste kiss. Mirage moaned softly into the kiss, never before experiencing such tenderness in a kiss. The smaller and lithe mech allowed himself to be lowered onto the berth, feeling oddly secure and at peace under Hound's mercies.
Rating: R
Warnings: Implications of violence, physical and mental abuse, and a bit of gore. Implied non-con/dubious con. Weirdness all around.
Pairings: Hound x Mirage.
Characters: Hound, Mirage, mention of Optimus Prime.
Summary: They are both outcasts and oddballs among their peers, both find solace in each other, even if in strange ways.
Notes: This is my take on Shattered Glass Mirage and Hound, written as a gift for naggingfishwife. And no, the non-con is not about these two.
Not Beta'ed so, feel free to correct me.
"You can have me if that's what you want," Mirage muttered dispassionately, only mildly shaking perhaps in revulsion, weakness, or a combination of both. The traces of other mechs having their way with the lithe mech evident for all to see. What was one more this cycle after all he had already put up with?
Hound arched an optic ridge at the unexpected offer. What was he to say? Was the other only looking for his protection perhaps? Preferring to give himself to him than to be ravaged over and over by their peers again?
They were both oddballs among their kind, neither fully fitting but both in different ways. Mirage was just not brash and harsh enough to be an Autobot, and Hound knew it was only fear what drove him to pick this side. He could be a formidable foe, if it were in his nature to be a warrior.
Among the Autobots, Mirage was nothing but an outcast, a weak, pitiful mech that did not have the bearings to crush the enemy, someone not convinced of their cause, and as such he was the unwilling outlet of their teammates temperaments and twisted desires. They always went after him in packs, none ever granting him the smallest of fighting chances. Ravaged, beaten, insulted, he was their punching bag, and Mirage had no choice but to take it. To defect to the Decepticons would mean his deactivation in painful and tortuous ways, and although among the Autobots his life was not much better, Mirage did not want to die just yet. Optimus Prime oversaw personally that Mirage would not forget the fate that awaited the defectors and those who challenged his ways and views. Shortly after Mirage dared to question the cause, citing his worries the goals were not being reached, the once beautiful mech began to sport a mask covering the upper half of his face plate.
Hound wasn't much different, he was a vicious warrior while in the heat of the battle, sociopath, taciturn, with an optic for beauty in the oddest of things, things his peers did not understand nor share. He knew himself to be disliked, feared, and misunderstood, but he did not care, he was only with the Autobots because he did not fit among the Decepticons and their softer nature. He couldn't care less for the cause, his loyalty was for no one but himself, and for all he cared, Prime could keel over dead that same cycle. He cared for nothing and no one but himself and the things that interested him.
A wounded turbo fox had been one of his priced possessions, he found a twisted beauty in that mutilated creature and tended to it with such care and tenderness that belittled his aggression and raw brutality in the battle ground. He found peace for his spark in the soothing power of the creature's dependency on him. His pet however, was heavily disliked and hardly tolerated among the other Autobots, bringing about a fool who claimed to be putting the little thing out of its misery by killing it. The mech was found in pieces scattered across the headquarters the next cycle, ever since nobody dared to disturb him, address him unless absolutely necessary and kept far away from anything he showed interest in.
"If you're not going to do anything, would you let me pass?"
Hound's bright red optics narrowed a little, shaking his head as he extended a hand to Mirage. The smaller mech repressed another shudder, this one not of disgust, but of weakness and pain, he hurt so much he couldn't even begin to describe it. Still, he accepted the offered hand, preferring to get this over with so he could move to his quarters and tend to his injuries.
He gasped as he found himself pulled close to the bulkier frame, not daring to look up at the mech who held him, just waiting patiently for all to be over.
"I'm not fragging you if that's what you're worried about." Hound brought his fingers under Mirage's chin, tilting it up so he could meet the pale optics. "You may come to my quarters, you'll be undisturbed there."
Mirage's optics flickered on and off in confusion, he couldn't remember ever hearing this mech speak, his voice was gruff, raspy, and yet there was something about it that seemed almost soothing. "Why?"
"You interest me." Hound admitted both to Mirage and himself. He had never felt attraction for mech's normally considered beautiful, good looking, attractive mechs failed to interest him, he found little attraction towards any of them, interfacing was the least of his concerns, and he rarely engaged in the act even before he joined Optimus Prime's faction. Yet Mirage attracted his interest, and although even for his unusual standards Mirage was a beautiful mech, Hound still felt interested in him, brought about that need to care and be tender to a disabled, dependant creature.
Mirage wasn't sure what to think of the other mech's words, but he did not feel like challenging him or questioning him, if he was offering him his quarters for security or just a lie to get him on his berth, the smaller mech just did note care for the time being, he just wanted to tend to his injuries as soon as possible and recharge away the pains of his existence.
He allowed himself to be led to Hound's quarters, not bothering to observe the interior and furniture, merely following.
"I am curious." Hound's voice garnered Mirage's attention, and the lithe one looked up. "Why do you wear the mask, what do you hide behind it?"
"My shame," Mirage replied right away, brushing black fingers along the edge of the mask. "They call me disgusting, despicable, ugly."
"Show me this disgrace of yours, I want to see it." Hound knelt before Mirage, red optics locking with pale golden.
Mirage wanted to say no, but he no longer had the strength or the will to refuse anything, not for the cycle at least, besides he had been taken while forced to look at his reflection without the mask, nothing this mech could say about it would be much worse. Carefully he removed the mask, setting it down to reveal scarred, partially melted plating exposing circuitry, cabling and skeletal structure.
"Beautiful." Hound murmured, bringing a hand up to trace the scars with a tenderness Mirage never expected from a warrior feared even among the Autobots.
"I'm not." Mirage shook his head a little, but still allowed the other mech to look at him.
"You are," Hound replied brushing gentle fingertips along the damaged plating with tenderness, soothing away pain the dermal plating stopped registering long ago. "You're gorgeous."
The deformed mech would have quirked an optic ridge if he had any left. "You're odd." Somehow Mirage's voice held a slight tone of... amusement perhaps? Fondness?
"So I've been told." Hound rose and sat besides Mirage on the berth, cupping his face and thinking about how beautiful the other was with and without the mask, how vulnerable, how frail. "I like you." He pressed scarred lips in soft, feathery kisses along the plating, both the smooth and almost flawless along with the scarred and melted plating.
"You're not going to ravage me like the others?" Mirage asked, feeling the strange texture of Hound's lip components brushing so gently along his face. He could feel the deep indentation of the scar marring the mech's lips, it felt so strange, so good. He found the touches were not repulsive or unwanted, and Mirage wondered if it was just his weariness or if there was something different about this mech.
"I don't crave for that." Hound's lips nipped tenderly at Mirage's chin, having avoided his lip components all this time. "I find no pleasure in that."
"What brings pleasure to you, Hound?" Mirage dared to bring a hand up to still the wandering lips, brushing a finger along the other mech's scar, observing the scar fit the mech's face.
"I can show you, if you'll let me."
Mirage nodded, intrigued now by this mech that was both strange and fascinating and was making him feel well, not so weary anymore. "Show me."
Hound's dispassionate optics glowed to life, as a little smile graced his lips. "With pleasure," he murmured before he claimed Mirage's lips a most tender and chaste kiss. Mirage moaned softly into the kiss, never before experiencing such tenderness in a kiss. The smaller and lithe mech allowed himself to be lowered onto the berth, feeling oddly secure and at peace under Hound's mercies.