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Been hit with a sudden urge (itâs cause I got a lot of mirage art on the TL)
I wanna do a Noah and Kris turned into transformers fic!
- Noah and Kris are going through a lot trying to get used to their new bodies.
- Kris is happy that he doesnât feel sick anymore and has been high energy none stop. Bee and Mirage have to help Noah tire out the lil sparkling.
- Noah is devastated by the change and is scared about how they will tell their mom and if they even can tell her.
- Kris and Noah end up forming a creator/sparkling bond which messes with both of them in different ways (missing their mom and their old lives)
- Mirage is trying his best to help the pair adjust to their new lives and even helps in picking out new names for them. (Only a select few of humans know along with the main ROTB bot cast and thatâs it)
- Noah goes by Nova while Kris⊠âTails!â âNo.â âSonic!â âNo.â ââŠBlurr?â âAlready taken.â (Theyâre working on it)
- Mirage has also attempted to flirt with Noah but it never goes well in that it goes over his helm and also he just thinks Mirage is just messing around.
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Noah Diaz had learned how to do that all too well, but when an argument with his little brother cracks open the flood gates of suppressed memories of wars long past, his mask slips, and along with it, his sanity.
(Takes place after the events of ROTB so there will be spoilers!)
TW: Mentions of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Also a few swears
Also available to read on AO3 here!
In the darkest corners of Noahâs mind, where memories converged with fear, something whispered in his sleep; fragments of a past that he had always desperately wished to forget. His nightmares always came in the form of a battlefield, screams pierced the air and mingled with the metallic cacophony of gunfire. Amid the madness, a lone young soldier struggled to fix a circuit breaker, his eyes wild with terror. With every breath, he inhaled the acrid scent and exhaled a piece of his humanity, forever lost to the unforgiving abyss of war.
Noah flinched, and he put a hand to his chest to steady his breathing as loud popping went off in the kitchen, a familiar scent of butter and salt wafted through to his room.
âPopcorn... â he reassured himself. âItâs just mom making popcorn...get a goddamn grip, man...â Â
As if sensing something was wrong, Noahâs mother appeared by the door frame, hugging a bowl to her chest with one arm and a duvet draped around the other.
âNoah, please tell me you ainât still working on that thing?â she said, nodding to his work desk. Â
Taking a moment to flex his trembling hand, he dismissively waved her off. âCâmon, Iâve only been at it for an hour or two.â
âHoney, itâs three in the afternoon. You been hunched over that desk since two in the morning.â
Her expression softened when Noah didnât reply. âHave you been taking those sleeping pills?â
âYeah, I just...got the work bug, thatâs all,â he muttered. âYou know me, once I start, canât stop.â
âYou gotta stop sometime, sweetheart. Otherwise, your body will.â
Noah flinched slightly. â...Right. Donât you have a movie to watch?â
His mom frowned but said nothing. âBecause I know you havenât eaten anything, thereâs leftovers in the fridge, okay? Just...donât cook, Iâm too tired to deal with that right now. Iâll be in the living room if you need me.â
Once again, he waved her off, and when she finally got the hint, he returned to his work project.
âCâmon...just work, damn it...!â Noah sighed, his nostrils flaring as he tried to splice a couple of wires together. This was the last step to complete the repair for Krisâs gameboy, which had suffered a beating against the wall after several failed attempts at the final boss of whatever latest game he had received for his birthday. Â
The walls in the apartment were thin so Noah and his mother had immediately scrambled out of their beds when they heard a loud banging coming from Krisâs room, with Noah kicking down the door and raising a baseball bat to beat the shit out of whoever had been stupid enough to break into their home and target his little brother, only to be met with the snivelling boy sitting on the bed hugging his knees and pointing at the broken console on the floor.
Kris had suffered his first bout of gamer rage. Â
Noah had tried to be sympathetic; their mother much less so.
He couldnât blame her for being angry. She worked long hours and had spent a lot of hard-earned cash to buy that gameboy for Kris in the hopes that it would cheer him upâor at least provide a distractionâfrom his illness. They couldnât afford another one.
Which was why Noah needed to fix it.
It had been weeks since his last interview, and the small pot of money he had slowly built up from doing various repair jobs for folks around the neighbourhood was beginning to dry up. He had spent most of it on various parts to fix up Mirage.
And it had been worth every damn dime.
âCâmon...There we go!â He punched a victorious fist in the air as the screen lit up along with the familiar 8-bit jingle. âOh, thank God. Or Primus. Whatever.â Noah sat back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, sighing in relief and smiling at the thought of Krisâs face lighting up when he got his one true love back.
Noah snorted. That kid needed to get out more.
His expression dropped a little. He knew at one point, when the illness was at its earliest stages, that Kris had tried to hang out with his friends, go to school, play at sports, just all the normal stuff that a kid should be doing. But he started tiring more and more easily and grew so frustrated that he ended up locking himself in his room, isolating himself from the world and everybody that loved him
That was when he got the call from his mom, her voice had a nasal tone to it, as if sheâd just been crying, and Noah knew he needed to come home. Fortunately, his superiors granted him general discharge after a hell of a lot of arm twisting. However, they made sure to get back at him in the form of a bad reference that crapped all over his chances of getting a decent job.
Or any job, really. Even the damn janitors wouldnât take him on.
Giving himself a mental kick, Noah forced himself out of the chair before he could start feeling sorry for himself and grabbed the newly fixed console before heading to the door.
âHey, ma,â he softly called out, softly knocking on the living room door and entering when he heard a muffled âCome in ..â. He smiled a little at the shifting lump on the couch, a hand lifting from under the covers to reveal his momâs face, illuminated by the soft glow of the television screen. He couldnât help but notice the dark circles under her eyes; those night shifts were really starting to take their toll on her.
âYeah, Iâve finally fixed Krisâs console, just headinâ out to give it to him now.â
âOh gracias a Dios,â she muttered in relief. âYouâre a little miracle worker, you know?â
âSĂ, mama,â Noah gloated, holding up his hands. âI know Iâm the best.â
She smirked under the covers. âIf only your cooking skills were that good.â
âHey, câmon now, itâs just an acquired taste, thatâs all.â
âUh-huh, sure,â she said with a yawn, prompting Noah to take the handle and close the door part-way.
âYou work yourself too hard,â he said softly. âIâll let you get some shut-eye.â
âAnd you worry too much,â she weakly argued back. âTell Kris to be home by six,â his mom paused a moment before adding. âHeâs been spending almost as much time at that dingy old garage as you have recently.â
Noah swallowed down a dry lump. âYeah, heâs uh...been helping me out with this... project.â
He inwardly cringed. He had always been a bad liar, especially when it came to his family.
âRight,â she drawled out, obviously not convinced. âJust make sure he doesnât inhale too much of those car fumes. Itâs not good for his condition.â
âDonât worry, I will,â Noah said, inching his way out the door before making a beeline for it, shouting out a quick âlove you!â before slamming the door shut on his way out.
Beads of sweat ran down the sides of his face as he jogged down the stairs of the apartment building and into the bustling and vibrant streets of Brooklyn, shoving the gameboy into his pocket as he walked down the street. Â
He wasnât sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep this secret from his mother. Kris had found out within five minutes of him being home, but luckily had taken the whole thing in his stride, seemingly not phased by the idea of giant alien robots and the world nearly ending.
Kris was just built different, he supposed.
Their mother on the other hand...
He wasnât sure what would have freaked her out more; the fact that he was friends with talking vehicles or that he had travelled outside of New York without leaving so much as a note.
He may be have been in his late twenties but there was no doubt in his mind that she would have grounded his ass for a month if she found out.
Noah shook his head, he was going to keep this secret for as long as he had breath in his body. She had enough to worry about: with her job, classes, bills, the medication for Kris.
Except they didnât have to worry about that anymore.
Absent-mindedly pulling the business card he had received at his âsecurity jobâ interview, he twirled it in his fingers, brushing a thumb over the symbol of the eagle. The whole situation was still so bizarre to him; this super-secret government organization wanted him as an agent because...what, he just happened to choose the right car to break into? Because he was associatedâby accidentâwith giant machines that could help them with whatever war they were in the middle of?
Noah couldnât think of any other reason on why they would want to hire him.
It was Elena who had led the Autobots and Maximals to the transwarp key, it was Optimus Prime and Primal that charged into battle against Scourge and Unicron, and it was Mirage who had sacrificed himself and transformed his body into a suit to protect Noah. He...he hadnât really done much of anything. Just happened to tag along for the ride.
That Agent Burke guy was wrong. He didnât deserve this.
And he couldnât throw himself into the middle of another war. Not after his harrowing time with the army and certainly not after that whole world-ending ordeal heâd just been through. Besides, he had other responsibilities. He couldnât leave Kris again. Or his mother. They needed him. He was the man of the house. They needed him. He was more useful to them here than playing pretend at some secret agent shit.
...Right?
He shoved the card back into his jacket pocket, planning on throwing it away later. From his other pocket, he pulled out a walkie talkie.
âYo, Kris,â he greeted. âGot a little something for ya, you still at the garage where I told you to stay?â
There was a pause.
âWhat did I say about using our real names?â Â
Noah rolled his eyes. âApologies, Tails. I repeat: you at the garage?â
âUh. Yep. Still here.â Â
âThen why donât I see you, huh?â Noah asked dryly as he edged past the heavy wooden doors and into the dimly lit space. A nostalgic scent of motor oil and sawdust tinged the air, a reminder that this was Noahâs safe-space. The small workshop was a treasure trove of relics; shelves lined the walls, each filled with an array of tools and rusted projects that had been laid to rest.
The only thing the garage was missing was his little brother and newly repaired Porsche.
âKzzzzt, this is Knuckles here,â a new voice chimed in. âYouâre uh, kzzzzt, breaking up there, Sonic.â Â
Noah grimaced and clutched onto the radio device a little harder. âYou get him back here now or I swear Iâll put my knuckles through your damn windshield...!â
âGeez! Whatâs with the threats, huh? Calm down or youâll end up as much of a killjoy as Optimus-â Â
âNo names!â Â
âOh! Sorry.â Â
Rubbing his temples in frustration, Noah tried again. âCan you guys please just come back? Like I said, I got something for you, Tails. Itâs real important.â
As if on cue, a mis-matched Porsche came skidding along the road and sped right towards Noah, who didnât even flinch when it screeched to a halt within inches of him and went through the all-too familiar process of transforming.
âMirage is in the garage!â The robot cheerfully announced, catching Kris mid-transformation and gently lowering him to the ground in front of Noah before stretching out his limbs. âOh, man does it feel good to get out again. And! I gotta say Kris, youâre even more fun to joyride with than your brother.â
Noah rubbed his face, feeling like a vein was about to pop. âPlease tell me youâre joking.â
âHey, come on now, Noah,â Mirage waved a dismissive hand. âJealousy ainât a good look on you.â
âYou took Kris out joyriding?!â
âGuys...â
âI took him out for some fresh air! What, youâd rather the kid was cooped up in this dusty old workshop all day?â Mirage snapped back, dramatically gesturing around the small, cramped room.
âGuys!â Kris shouted out before Noah could argue back. âI can talk for myself, yâknow?â
âYeah, I know Kris, but-â Noah tried to argue as the robot looked down sheepishly, only to be instantly hushed by his little brotherâs stone-cold glare. Heâd definitely learned that from their mother. Or Optimus.
âHe only took me âround the block a few times, Noah. I wanted to go with him.â
âBut-â
âNo buts,â Kris held up a finger. âBesides, we didnât get into any trouble.â
âWell, except for that cop trynaâ stop us for speeding-â
âI said we didnât get into any trouble,â Kris reiterated, aiming his glare up at Mirage now, who instantly stiffened and looked away.
âNope. No trouble here.â
Noah sighed and knelt to Krisâs level. âLook, I get you want to have your own adventures and yeah, even I got into a little trouble when I was your age.â
âA little?â
âOkay, a lot,â he corrected himself. âLook, my point is... you gotta be careful. I...,â Noah paused for a moment, trying to find the best way to word this.
âI donât want you to end up being like me.â
A silence fell upon the room then as Kris narrowed his eyes, and he didnât even have to look up to know that Mirage was boring down on him too. Â
âBro, you ainât being serious, right?â
âI am being serious, Kris. You...youâre...I mean I...â Noah stuttered. God, why was talking so hard? âYouâre a real bright kid and-â
âLemme guess, I got a âbright future ahead of meâ?â Kris drawled out sarcastically.
âYeah! You do! But you gotta drop that attitude, keep your head down and keep up with your schoolwork. You canât be like me and fu-â He stopped himself and cleared his throat. âMuck it up like I did.â
âYou can say fuck, Noah. Iâm not five.â
Mirage, who had taken to hovering in the background so as to not get in the middle of the brotherâs argument, sputtered and tried to poorly disguise his laugh with a hacking cough, blaming it on the dust.
Noah groaned and rose, deciding it was now time to harness the kind of power stance that would usually win his mother an argument âMy point is that youâve got a chance to make something of yourself, get outta Brooklyn, get yourself a decent job with good money-â
âOkay, I may be old enough to swear but I ainât old enough to be thinking about all that,â Kris said defiantly, crossing his arms to mirror Noah. âYou canât just dump all that on me.â
âIâm not dumping anything on you, Iâm just saying you gotta-â
âWell, I think you gotta go see a therapist.â
Noah blinked as a smug grin formed on Krisâs face. âW-what?â
âDonât you even notice that youâre always putting yourself down?â The teen grasped at his hair dramatically and pitched his voice down an octave. âOh no...! Iâm not good enough to get a job...! I donât deserve to get credit for saving the freakinâ world...! I canât cook for shit...!â
Noah wasnât sure what to get more offended byâthe fact that his own brother was insulting him or that he had the balls to pull him up about his own insecurities.
âYou little-! I donât sound like that! And my cooking is just...an acquired taste...!â
âStop avoiding the subject.â
âI donât need a therapist; we canât even afford one! And last I checked, we were talking about your future, not mine. So, letâs leave it, yeah?â
Kris didnât take the hint. Â
âBro, you are part of my future. And you always tell me that it ainât good to bottle up our emotions and to always talk. Like when Tails helps Sonic, or Luigi helps Mario, or-â
âBut we ainât Sonic and Tails! Or...or Mario and Luigi or whatever, and this ainât a videogame, Kris! You canât just point and click your way through life and expect to get a happy ending. You got your head in the clouds way too much, and itâs about time you got back down to reality like the rest of us!â
âNoah...â Mirage finally chimed in, but was interrupted by Kris.
âNo, I get it,â the boy said, somberly nodding. âYou got all these hopes and dreams that you couldnât achieve by yourself and so now youâre pinning âem all on me, right? âCuz you think you ainât got a chance at living the life that you wanted. âCuz youâre worthless, right?â
âWorthless... worthless ... youâre worthless...!â His commander had shouted at him. His father had shouted at him. He had shouted at himself.
Noahâs head was pounding . His thoughts clashed like opposing tides in a wild storm; a battle between fear and reason, threatening to tear him apart. All he wanted was for his little brother to have a good life and not to be trapped within the four walls of a rotting apartment in the middle of gang and police territory, fearing for his life every time he opened the door, that he would get shot for being in the wrong place at the right time. To try and escape, only to end up in a different kind of war that valued him only as cannon fodder, to be sent home in a box with a medal slapped on his cold, lifeless body for his âserviceâ. To be remembered by only a few and missed by no-one.
And to be regarded as a low-life coward for running away.
âNoah...? Noah...! Noah ...â Â
He didnât even realise that Kris had a grip on his arms and was shaking him, or that Mirage was kneeling with his hands hovering over him. Their mouths were moving but what they were saying was all muffled and distorted, like he was underwater.
His lungs hitched, and he started gasping for air.
Noah hated that he couldnât keep his emotions in check, that something so trivial triggered such a raw, primal fear within him, and that he showed such a vulnerability to his little brother and best friend. The two people who were supposed to rely on him for support and strength.
With some semblance of control, he managed to wave them both off with an air of nonchalance and coolness that he had learned to adopt from Mirage's personality.
âIâm fine, Iâm good,â he just about choked out. âI think I just gotta...go for a walk or somethinâ.â Â
His legs found the strength to stumble forward of their own accord, stopping only briefly to lean by the doors so he could glance back. âMirage, could you uh...could you take Kris home? Mom wants him home by...by six, aight? And make sure he does his homework because...yeah.â
âBut Noah... yew don luk so gud...â Â
âJust do it, okay?!â He snapped. âPlease...â
Within Noahâs weary soul, a fervent desire to escape surged through his body, and without a second thought, he slipped out into the embrace of the early night. Each step propelled him into the unknown, his heart beating wildly as his legs pounded against the pavement, fuelling his need to leave everyone else behind.
The wind whistled through his ears, and the city bathed in the soft glow of streetlights overcame every ounce of his senses, drowning out the chorus of desperation that echoed from all around him.
XXX
I am hungry for the hurt/comfort Noah and Mirage fics so I decided to write one myself. Let me know what y'all think!