#it's just skywarp is in wonderful mood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

keaalu · 2 years ago

Text

Secondary Trines

Everyone thought the fallout from TC and Pulsar’s affair was dealt with, but it turns out Skywarp is not so easily satisfied. (And Pulsar has a big mouth – but everyone knew that.)

Set a few dozen orns after [How Long] . Nothing explicit, fade-to-black etc., but some element of mature discussion (plus lots of manufactured melodrama and authorial fiat, WOO).

Reminder: Pulsar is a bike. As a natural consequence of this, she has a big mouth, which often runs away from her and gets her into trouble.

As a natural consequence of Skywarp being Skywarp, this is a good thing; winding her up until she blurts out something embarrassing and/or incriminating is the usual end game.

Today, the trouble is associated with an interesting revelation.

Second little reminder: Pulsar is a little femme (like, just a smidge over half Skywarp’s height). ((What can I say; I like a bit of size difference.)) (((She is also unrepentant. The fact it makes her a useful projectile at times is just something she’s had to learn to deal with.)))

---------

Night had already secured a foothold in Deixar, dressing the house in deepening shades of indigo. Everyone else had already retired to their private suites, leaving just two residents to monopolise the furniture in the atrium.

Pulsar had been dozing comfortably on the couch, sprawled out with her head on Skywarp’s shoulder. Initially reading, while he watched something she’d seen a dozen times before, until her attention began to wane and the wafer slid from her fingers, disappearing out of reach… and she decided fetching it back was too much effort and she was just too comfortable, right now. She’d let her optics go dim, all her senses softening into idle mode, and a handful of dormancy protocols had begun to come online when-

A sharp sensation in the tip of one aerial startled her bolt awake.

“Stop that!”

Skywarp huffed but obediently took his lips off her antennae. “What did I do wrong this time?”

She noticed the entertainment system had all gone offline already, and wondered how long he’d been watching her snooze and waiting for her to wake up on her own. “There’s other ways to wake me up that don’t involve biting me-”

“Yeah, but they’re not so much fun.”

“-and I was comfortable!”

“You were offline.”

“That was the point!” She brushed a hand up over her antennae, checking for new kinks; finding none, she settled, trying but failing to find that cosy position again. “I was actually enjoying just snuggling up with you, for once.”

“Enjoying it so much, you couldn’t stay awake.” He raised his voice over her protests. “It’s fine, I get it. I’m boring, now.” He was quiet for several loaded seconds before asking, in a deceptively offhand tone; “was he better than me?”

It was Pulsar’s turn to be quiet for a second. “What?” She glanced up at him.

“Thundercracker. You’ve been in a funny mood since you two finally fessed up about fragging each other.” He was staring up at the stars, sprinkling the sky above the huge glass roof. “Got me wondering if you were just trying to save my feelings, by saying it was a fling and you didn’t think about it any more.”

“…the slag did that come from, Skywarp?” She propped herself on an elbow. “I was enjoying your company! How did you get from that to, oh, I bet she’s thinking about my best friend, now.”

Lips pursed, Skywarp let his gaze drift down to meet hers. He didn’t look particularly serious about it, though – no doubt his usual flavour of insincere windup – which succeeded in rankling her temper.

She squirmed out from under his arm. “It’s not a funny mood if I just want to be able to enjoy your company without slag like you biting my aerials. It wouldn’t kill you to be tender, every now and then.”

“Like Thundercracker would be, you mean.”

“Oh, shove off, Skywarp.” She stood to face him, bad-tempered. “He’s got nothing to do with it.”

He sat up as well. “Musta been a good frag if it was twenty vorns ago and you’re still thinking about him.”

“Primus, what is your malfunction, this evening?” Pulsar threw up her hands. “I’m not thinking about him! And I’m not comparing you against him, either! Let alone based on how good a frag you think you are.” She glared, and added; “or think you aren’t, apparently.”

“Not denying that you do think he’s better than me, then.” Skywarp vented a melodramatic sigh. “Anyone else would wanna take the chance to prove me wrong.”

“Mercy!” She covered her face with one hand and growled something incoherently obscene. “You're both gorgeous and I'd have the pair of you at once in a heartbeat if I didn't think I'd lose both of you just by suggesting it-!”

She visibly stiffened at realising what she’d blurted out full volume, optics brightening to such a humiliated cyan-white it was a wonder they didn’t short out altogether.

They just stared at each other for several long seconds, with the words just… hanging there, between them.

Skywarp’s brows had come up in a very steep arch, but his expression otherwise remained inscrutable.

Pulsar let her head hang. “Guess I'll go make myself comfy in dorms.”

“Hey. No.” Skywarp caught her arm before she could disappear. “Just… run that past me again.”

“What? No!” She jerked backwards on her arm but couldn’t quite get enough co-ordination together to extract it from his grip. “Are you telling me you didn’t immediately commit every word to your long-term memory? I am not repeating myself.” Her field felt scorching hot. “Certainly not for your amusement. Now let me go.”

“Aw, but I thought you liked it when I embarrass you,” he teased, pulling her into the circle of his arms.

“That’s different.”

“Howso?”

She closed her fingers into fists against his armour. “I'm trying to be serious here.”

“Uh-huh, me too.” He strummed a thumb down over her antennae.

She sighed, frustrated, and let her helm bonk down on his chassis. “You’re an infuriating glitch, sometimes. Being annoyed with myself and not in the mood to play with you doesn’t mean it’s because I suddenly want to get intimate with your wingmate instead.”

“…again.”

“Will you just stop.” She gave him a thump. “That’s not fair. I know we hurt you and I’m sorry, but you were dead, when it happened. Please stop making me feel like you want me to choose between you.”

He gave her a look with the most theatrically hangdog expression she had ever seen. “You do love him still, then.”

“Of course I do. We went through a lot together. I’d have never got out of Egypt in one piece, without him. He’s one of my best friends. But it’s not the same sort of love that we have.” She huffed hot air in a frustrated snort. “For one, he doesn’t send me obscene images of what he wants to do to me, or find the most inappropriate time of day to do it.”

Skywarp didn’t quite manage to successfully swallow the little triumphant ha! that leaped unbidden to his vocaliser. He made an abortive attempt to cover it with a cough of static.

“And that wasn’t what I meant, anyway, you obnoxious fraghead. You know you’re the one who wriggled his way under my armour, for reasons I absolutely cannot fragging understand, right now. You know how important you are in my life. You changed my life in a million amazing ways and I wouldn’t change you for the universe, but Primus if you aren’t the most frustrating aft I have ever met at times as well.” She stepped back half a pace, leaning into his laced fingers. “Now are you going to get off me, or do I have to sock you properly.”

He offered an exaggeratedly woeful little sigh and let his arms drop to dangle at his sides. “Fine. You wanna go be melodramatic, don’t let me stop you.”

She stepped free of his grasp, and resumed her flounce to the door.

He called after her; “What you said before. About the… both at once part… Do you ever actually… you know. Imagine doing it?”

She hesitated near the doorway. The silence clung on for long enough that it gave all the answer anyone could have needed, but she finally spoke. “…occasionally.” She flashed him a glare, optics like icy chips of temper. “But it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a stupid fantasy. All right? It’s stupid. I’m stupid.” She barged the door open with her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

Disappointed, he watched her go; the streetlights glittered against her neon chequers and turned her into an abstract little ghost in the gloom.

Clearly this was not the good sort of embarrassed. He’d have to fix that.

-----

Night had fully sunk its teeth into the district when the boring square outline of Central station finally loomed up in front of her. Pulsar stomped past the front desk and ignored the desk sergeant’s attempt at a friendly greeting, and ducked into the dormitory block, going straight to the registry to see what options were available.

…aaaand it looked like home for the night was going to be whichever spare chair she could find.

Again.

She sighed, turned away and trundled wearily down the empty corridor. Had this stupid fragup happened earlier, she could have stood a chance at one of the spare berths in dorms. Mid-shift, though, and everywhere was already occupied.

Next time, she’d just… deactivate her vocaliser altogether, she figured. Rather than get needled into losing her temper and letting her big mouth run away from her. Again.

The couch in the corner of the officer’s mess was thankfully empty. (She wasn’t sure where else she’d have gone, if not. She was absolutely not going to camp out behind the intake desk in custody. Or in an empty cell.)

She let her motors unwind, plopping heavily down on the reinforced foam with a low whoomph of air. As couches went, it was… well, comfortable enough. So long as you weren’t hoping for too much. Someone considerably senior to her (and evidently never having been forced to recharge here) had ‘generously’ got it reupholstered, as well, so the cushions were annoyingly harder than she remembered. Not beaten to yielding softness by vorns of abuse from her friends and colleagues.

She scrunched a foil around her shoulders and tucked up into the corner, setting up a proximity alert so if anyone sat on her she’d have proof it was intentional; then shut off her optics, and initiated the first of her recharge protocols.

The last thought that flashed through her awareness before she successfully managed to switch off was of two pairs of wings, turning away from both her and from each other, and of being completely incapable of working out which set she should follow.

-----

Thundercracker was first to rouse, when morning finally rolled around. Skywarp followed him down not long after – unexpectedly alone.

It was… unusual, to have an empty seat at the table, but perhaps Pulsar had been called in early. Thundercracker didn’t pay it much attention; wouldn’t be the first time. The quiet made a nice change of pace, anyway. He called up the news on his wafer and got comfortable to read.

He got halfway through the headlines before the silence grew a little too heavy. Skywarp was never normally this quiet unless something was on his mind.

Thundercracker glanced up, and found his wingmate watching him, unexpectedly; optics subtly narrowed, head propped on one hand, twiddling a cube on one of its points with the other. Said cube was still almost full so he was obviously preoccupied.

“Is everything all right?” Thundercracker prompted, warily. “What’s with the intense scrutiny, this morning.”

“Had a lot to think about, before I managed to get offline last night. Still working through it at the moment.”

Thundercracker put the news to one side. “Did you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help.”

“Depends. Maybe.”

It was apparently one of those mornings. “Well you obviously do, or you wouldn’t be looking at me like that.”

“Fine.” Skywarp let his cube drop flat against the tablet again. “I was just wondering, if I look at you long enough… I might be able to spot what it is that Squeaky sees in you.”

“What?” It took an instant to parse the words, but Thundercracker visibly drooped. “Aw, come on, Warp. I thought we were done talking about this? We told you, we separated long before you came back. We’re not interested in pursuing anything intimate.”

“That’s why she said she wanted to interface with you again, huh.” The challenge in Skywarp’s voice had grown more overt.

“Uh.” Thundercracker licked his lips, uneasily. “…she said that?”

“Last night. Uh-huh.”

Well, that would explain the empty chair, at least.

And yet in spite of being his usual belligerent self, Skywarp didn’t seem angry. Just sharp, and challenging, in that way he got when he was determined to get an answer out of someone.

That someone wasn’t usually Thundercracker, though.

“I don’t know what to say to you, Warp. I can’t speak for her, but it’s never come up in conversation since you first found out. There’s been no reason for it to? We were being honest when we said we hadn’t continued anything.” But the longer the teleport stared silently into him, with those pursed lips and narrowed optics, the more off-balance (and slightly cross) he felt. “This is ridiculous, Skywarp. It was vorns ago! You know we wouldn’t suddenly choose to go behind your wings now.”

“Not denying that you’d like to though, huh. Interesting.”

“What? Primus. How did you get there from what I just said?” Thundercracker put his hands up. “You know what, this conversation is over. I can’t speak for Pulsar, and I don’t know why she said that, or if you’ve just… misinterpreted her, again. But I’m not playing along and letting you box me into a corner about something I haven’t done. Or said. Or thought. All right? Now if you’ll excuse me,” he turned his attention back on his flask, “I’d like to finish this? Because some of us have work to go to.”

“Sure, sure.” Skywarp watched as he picked up the wafer and glared thoroughly at the headlines, just to make it clear how extra done he was with this conversation. “Okay, anyway, fine. Confession time.” The teleport leaned forwards onto his elbows, features softening just a tiny bit. “I might not have been completely honest with you.”

Thundercracker paused with his flask midway to his mouth. “…go on?”

“I was trying to get her a bit fired up, right? I guess I thought I was just teasing, and she’d be all, right, time to prove him wrong! And she kinda… came out with something I wasn’t expecting.”

“I will never understand your idea of foreplay, but fine. Situation normal. What turned that into… whatever this big drama is?”

“So, what she actually said. Was.” Skywarp studied his interlaced fingers, where they rested on the table. “I'd have both of you at once, if the option was there.”

Thundercracker promptly choked on his energon.

“And yeah so ok, she didn’t really say it, as much as just…” Skywarp wafted his hands. “Vomit the words out and instantly look like she wanted the planet to swallow her.”

“So why are you telling me?” Thundercracker finally wheezed, once he’d managed to cough the last few drops out of his air intakes.

“Beeecause… I guess…” Skywarp offered a see-sawing sort of shrug. “I wanted to see if you wanted to?”

Thundercracker stared at him for a very long time.

Eventually he came up with a very inadequate: “What?”

“I thought it was a pretty straightforward question.”

Thundercracker made sure he’d put his flask down, just in case of any other bombshells. “After that time we spilled our sparks to you, and absolutely put ourselves through the mill in the process… You’re asking me if I want to interface with her. With your permission??”

“Not my permission, mech. With me. Together.”

In spite of it being physiologically impossible, it still looked like Thundercracker had paled. “…what?”

“You sure you should be downstairs yet, mech?” Skywarp waved a hand in front of his wingmate’s face. “Not really woken up yet, by my reckoning.”

Thundercracker grabbed the distracting hand and pinned it against the table. “With me. I did hear you right, right? With me. As in, both of us. At the same time.”

Skywarp smiled disarmingly. “Right. Humans call it a threesome.”

“A three-…” Thundercracker opened and closed his mouth a few times but nothing adequate seemed to want to come out. He quietly sagged against the chair’s backrest. “We’ve been trine for millennia. Is-is this something you’ve thought about before? Like, are you only just now telling me… you’ve wanted to do this… all that time? And I’ve just… what. Missed it? Never spotted it? Not even a hint?”

“Naw.” Skywarp’s features creased in that silly smile that crinkled his nose (and Thundercracker knew usually got Pulsar swooning. It… was kinda attractive). “I’d have told you long before now if I had. I guess she just got me curious?”

“Curious.”

“Yeah? I mean, why not? I know we’re both gorgeous.” Skywarp flattened his hand against his cockpit, fingers splayed, and Thundercracker couldn’t help the little snort of laughter. “You’ve never been interested to see what it’d be like?”

“Well-… no, honestly? You’re trine, Warp. The idea of interfacing with you has not once ever crossed my processor.”

One brow came up in an arch as if to say oh really. Skywarp sipped (intentionally causally) at his cube.

“I mean it!” Why did he suddenly feel so flustered. “A-aside from maybe… once. Thousands of vorns ago. We weren’t trine then. And then a war got in the way. Remember that part?”

“Pssh. Plenty of romantic trines out there, even if we never did.” Skywarp paused for effect. “…yet.”

Thundercracker rested his head against his folded hands. “I can’t believe you’re actually genuinely trying to talk me into this.”

“Why not?” Skywarp shuffled his chair closer around the table, and claimed one of his wingmate’s hands with his own. “It’d be fun!”

Thundercracker gave him a flat look. “‘Fun’.”

“Yeah. You know. That thing neither you nor Screamer know how to do any more.”

Thundercracker gave him a shove.

“Seriously.” Skywarp scooted back, and closer, this time. “So what if we’re wingbros. This is a thing we like doing, and you’re our friend. Pulse might not have suggested it on purpose, but friends share nice things with each other, and I thought: yeah, okay.” They were almost nose-to-nose, by now. He dropped his voice an octave or so. “…and you really are pretty attractive, into the bargain.”

Thundercracker snorted a laugh. “Colours aside, we’re identical, you vain glitch.”

Skywarp snickered. “Yeah but I never normally see me from this angle.”

“Are you sure Pulsar is all right with it?”

This time Skywarp did look a little sheepish. “Well I, uh, kinda haven’t seen her since she got mad at me and stomped off last night. I think she stayed in dorms. I haven’t actually told her I was gonna talk to you, yet.”

“Only because she’d have told you not to,” Thundercracker growled. “And you better not be using me as a way to apologise to her, either.” He sighed and let his forehead come to rest against his wingmate’s. “…can I think about it?”

“Sure.” Skywarp kissed his nose, playfully. “I can wait.”

-----

When Pulsar was uncharacteristically late to the daily pre-shift briefing, their boss dispatched one of her siblings to go looking for her.

Following her private signal, the eternally-elegant Longbeam tracked her down in the canteen. Pulsar looked somewhat frazzled; antennae askew, optics not quite at full brightness, and still covered in yesterday’s scuffs, contemplating her energon as though hoping to glean the meaning of life from the depths of the flask.

Longbeam slid into the chair opposite. “What happened to you.”

“No spare dorms. Stayed on the couch.”

“And there was me thinking you had a massive house – and a bunch of pretty seekers to go with it – out in the nice part of the city.”

Pulsar glared up from under hooded brows. “Those ‘pretty seekers’ are why I ended up sleeping on the couch. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh-ho.” Longbeam’s optics twinkled. “Say no more, sister. I wondered why you still looked so tired.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that.”

“Nothin’.” The tall bike gestured airily with her long, slim hand. “Crash with me and Vecks, next time. If nothing else, our couch is infinitely superior. You can fantasise all you like and no-one will interrupt.”

Pulsar swatted her hand away, and her sister snickered. “Why are you even here, Beemer.”

“Because you’re late to work?”

…Well done. Go draw a bit more attention to yourself, why don’t you. Idiot. Pulsar vented a long sigh and let her head clonk down against the table.

“So preoccupied that you flat out forgot why they make us come to this dump on the regular, huh,” Longbeam drawled. “Need me to go make some excuses to Nightsun for you?”

“No.” Pulsar’s words came out muffled by the tabletop. “Pass me a lid for my flask…”

In reality, nobody paid the two bikes the slightest bit of attention as they navigated the busy corridors, but Pulsar’s imagination was already in overdrive, (un)happily assuming everyone was talking about her. Why’s she still so scruffy / didn’t take a bath / stayed here overnight / have they separated / what did she do to upset him / really hope I don’t miss out on the juicy gossip. She kept her shoulders round and avoided eye contact.

Nightsun pinged a quick greeting as Pulsar slunk in and found a seat at the back of the meeting area, but otherwise didn’t break his flow, assigning cases and talking through the orn’s operations. She appreciated the discretion.

When Thundercracker drifted past on the way to his office, looking… distant, and distracted, for reasons she strongly suspected she knew… she slumped all the way down on her chair until she could hide behind Longbeam, and quietly took her beacon right off the grid. Just while he was in the vicinity. Just to avoid any awkward conversations in public. Just until she’d squared things up in her own mind.

This is such a screwup.

Eventually Pulsar’s shift ended and she’d run out of data to upload and reports to write and there came a point where she couldn’t justify loitering purposelessly at work any longer. And Longbeam kept giving her funny, knowing looks, so it would only be a matter of time before Pulsar ended up giving her an incriminating punch in the head. She left the building the most circuitous way she could find and skulked home with her tail between her legs, rehearsing over and over in her head what she was going to say to Skywarp. She’d not heard from him all day and didn’t really know what that meant.

I love you and can we forget I said anything.

…You spent all day thinking about it and that was the best you could come up with?

She settled uncomfortably in their lounge, on the edge of the couch under the house-maple, trying to concentrate on her datapad. She’d never really been that bothered that her feet didn’t reach the floor until now, when it felt like it might impinge on her ability to make a quick exit.

Across the room, the news unexpectedly clicked on, making her jump. Footsteps approached.

…and it wasn’t Skywarp. She swallowed the curse before it could escape.

Thundercracker settled intentionally nearby. She tried to ignore his proximity – and the way he was watching her read – but there was something off about his manner that was making the back of her helm prickle with a sort of anxious anticipation.

It was when he shifted slightly to artfully prop his head against one hand, still watching her, that she realised the game was indeed up.

She looked up and met his gaze, and immediately deflated. “…he told you,” she said, flatly.

At least he was smiling – and not in a mocking way, but a small, affectionate smile. “He did.”

She muttered something quiet that Thundercracker didn’t manage to parse, but sensed was probably pretty vulgar. “I might kill him.”

“I might hold him down for you!” He chuckled. “After I figure out which bit of this ridiculousness surprises me more – the fact you thought he might not, or the fact you’re surprised he did.”

His fingers drifted down over her antennae, trailing imaginary sparks all the way, and her fans hitched. She jerked her head away, frustrated. “This wasn’t fun to start with but it’s definitely not fun now you’re both sucking my sump.” She slid off the chair and made a break for the exit. “I thought better of you.”

He put out a hand and blocked her way as she went to pass him. “Didn’t you only just get home?”

“Yeah.” She looked down and watched as his fingers came up to softly encircle her wrist. “If I go now, there might still be some spare berths left. I’m not spending the night on that nasty hard couch again. And definitely not going to crash with Beemer, who can’t wait to rub it in-”

He kept his grip gentle – made sure she knew she could have stepped away any second she wanted, if she genuinely wanted out – but didn’t let go. “Why?”

“Really?” She gave him a tired glare. “Come on. Warp gets me to blurt out stupid, embarrassing garbage, shares the worst of it with you, and you wonder why I feel like I can’t face you right now. The last I need is for you to join in with mocking me.”

“I’m not teasing. I promise.” His smile widened, just a touch. He gave her hand a very gentle tug and she sagged into his lap.

“Well this isn’t fair,” she said, flatly.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m trying to apologise.” Her fans had already picked up speed. Her antennae prickled, like someone had connected them to a lightning rod and a thunderstorm was brewing outside. “I get it! I have a big mouth and no filter and I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Maybe.” Thundercracker lowered his voice to a particularly pleasant rumble. “But I’m glad you did.”

It felt like someone had stolen all the air from the room. “…what?”

Pulsar realised she’d wound her field so tightly around herself, she almost missed it when the third person joined the room. A bolt of electric alarm shot right up her back and she froze.

Skywarp sat down on his knees in front of the couch, caging Pulsar at the centre of a circle of arms. “So are we doing this, or what.”

She refused to meet either of their stares, shocked and stiff. “Doing what.”

“Well someone said something about having us both at once.”

Oh mercy. Pulsar covered her face with both hands; felt like her field was on fire. “You’re a teasing pair of glitches.” Her words came out strangled and staticky. “You shouldn’t say things like that unless you mean it.”

Thundercracker leaned down; let his helm bump gently against hers. “Who says we don’t?” he said, softly. “We know you want to.”

“Just because I want-… I-” She let her head turn subtly to the side, until she could just meet the muted garnet of his optics. “I don’t want to hurt you. It was a stupid, unguarded comment-”

“We’ve all said something stupid and unguarded at some point. But now it’s in the open, and we can do something about it.”

Skywarp was leaning in, as well, now. “You left me plenty of thinking time when you flounced last night. Me and TC discussed it…”

“…and that made for an interesting orn…” Thundercracker added, dryly.

“…and we decided, yeah. We’re both up for it. Let’s see what it would be like.” Skywarp pressed in closer “I think it’ll be fun.”

“But you can say no. That’s fine too.”

They were both so intoxicatingly close she could barely think straight. There was no way this could be real. Perhaps she was still offline, scrunched up and uncomfortable and stress-dreaming in the canteen. She scrambled for something that might bring back reality. “This can’t-.. I-I don’t want to hurt you. What if it makes things… awkward, or you fall out, or-… I would never forgive-”

“It won’t.” Thundercracker dipped his helm, until his lips were microns from hers, easily close enough to steal a kiss. “After forgiving all the slag we’ve done to each other during the war… why would an expression of love hurt us like that?”

She could feel the subtle movement of the air as he spoke. So close.

So close.

“But, if you really don’t-”

“Yes.” She dimmed her optics, and breathed the words against him. “I do. Please, Primus; yes.”

Skywarp snrk-ed, then leaned all the way in and tightened his grip on them both.

A sensation of cold and freefall and of being in two places at once-

-and suddenly the lounge was empty.

-----

The first subtle blues of early dawn streamed in through the crack in the blind, slicing the room into a collection of shadows. Pulsar was first to stir, nudged awake by an internal alarm, and the reluctant knowledge that she had a shift coming up. She allowed herself an indulgent few seconds of stillness, to figure out exactly where she was – and more importantly, with whom.

It hadn’t been a dream, then.

Sensation slowly came back to her tired processors, as each individual module booted reluctantly back up. She felt sore, and stiff, and… weirdly stretched… and completely powerless to move, sandwiched between two large, heavy, affectionate bodies.

And… she found she really didn’t care, actually? It was a good sore. It came with quiet and calm and contentment, all folded up in a soft nimbus of protection and affection.

Would be nice to stay like this forever, actually.

She called up her memory record, just soaking in the remembered pleasure, for a little while. Thinking about those careful, cautious little experimental touches, working out each other’s boundaries and individual hotspots… Of trying really hard to give as good as she got, but also of being trapped at the epicentre of a tornado, swept along, ultimately able to do nothing except surrender control and enjoy the ride.

Then, when she was too sore and exhausted to do anything more, just… laying to watch, and purr contentedly, enjoying vicariously as they explored each other, in ways that were simultaneously completely alien (those wings, oh Primus those wings), and also so unbelievably familiar she could almost feel it.

Yeah; mmh, that had been good, too. Particularly good. She shivered at the memory, filing it carefully away, wondering if she’d ever be able to get Warp making those same soft little noises of pleasure and need that he’d wrung from Thundercracker.

She turned her attention quietly to her berthmates.

Skywarp was an untidy sprawl, of course, because when wasn’t he. Limbs and wings at all angles, as though he’d just been dropped there from a great height. His cheek pressed heavily against the top of her helm, though, and the arm on which she lay was bent around just enough for his fingers to rest on her hip.

The smudge of blue on the other side, in the periphery of her vision, was a less familiar sight to wake up to, but… welcome. It also revealed the source of the weight resting on her shoulder. One big wing protruded into her field of view, like a shield against the world. Thundercracker’s free arm stretched all the way across both of them; possessive, protective.

She managed to wriggle one arm free, and stroked the pale cheek pressed against her shoulder.

It took several seconds for Thundercracker’s optics to respond, and they remained dim, but his features softened into a smile. “Good morning.” His voice was thick, and distorted, but comfortable – as though he’d quite happily let his mind slip back into idle and stay that way for the whole orn.

“Very good morning, from my perspective.” She kept her fingers against his cheek and purred quietly as he leaned into the touch. “I was worried I just dreamed it.”

He harmonised his purr with hers. “I’m glad you didn’t. Thanks for including me.”

“Thank you, for agreeing to come.”

Thundercracker gave an involuntary little snrk, and they shared a tired giggle.

“Those were some interesting noises he got you making last night,” Pulsar added.

A little flicker of mixed amusement and embarrassment danced through the blue seeker’s field. “All that practice he’s had with you probably helped.” He stretched his shoulders, subtly, looking for a slightly more comfortable position. “…and I guess I needed it. It’s been a while.”

She pressed a little kiss to his brow. “I’d like to think maybe this doesn’t need to have been a one-off,” she suggested, carefully. “If you’d be interested.”

He brought his own hand up, and coaxed her closer for a proper kiss; her fingers threaded between his, pulling tighter against him.

“Definitely interested,” he murmured, letting his lips linger close to hers when they finally parted. “And flattered that you’d like to share.”

Her words came out underlaid with a subtle static. “You’re absolutely worth it.”

He chuckled. “And how long have you been fantasising about Warp and me together?”

Pulsar smiled and glanced away, optics brightening. “I stand by my assessment. You look so good,” she husked, drawing little wispy fingertip lines against his helm. “But who wants to just watch. Being involved with the two people I love most in the universe is better.”

He hummed his amusement, and let his head come back down onto her shoulder, at just the right angle to encourage those pleasant little doodles to continue.

All too soon, a reflected beam of strengthening sunlight had found its way through the nearby buildings, and lanced straight into his optics. Thundercracker grimaced and flinched his face subtly out of its line of fire, then sighed. “This is probably fate’s way of saying I should be starting to think of going to work, about now.”

“Call in sick,” Skywarp said, muffled and distorted; Pulsar hadn’t even realised he was awake, and if his volume were anything to go by, he was only just.

“Thank you for the tip, but some of us are meant to be setting an example.” Thundercracker pushed himself partially upright, and grunted softly. “Oof. Even if they’d rather stay here all orn. Until all their cable tensions rebalance.” But he soon succumbed to gravity, sagging back to his elbows. “Primus, ow. I am amazed you two can ever walk, if this is what the two of you get up to on a regular basis.”

Pulsar felt her optics brighten, and audibly rebooted her vocaliser to cover the embarrassed giggle. “Practice, remember?”

“They’ll survive without you for half an orn, TC,” Skywarp added, sleepily. “You’re the boss. You write the rules.”

Thundercracker dithered for several very long seconds, under the expectant weight of his friends’ combined stare.

“Maybe just another couple of breems won’t hurt,” he accepted, tiredly reorganising his bulk so he wasn’t pinning them quite so completely – but keeping that possessive arm around them.

…by the end of the first breem, he was clearly dozing contentedly again, growing heavier as systems went dormant, and by breem two was completely offline again, fans cycling with a low, quiet purr of satisfaction.

“So much for setting an example,” Skywarp observed, quietly, voice still muzzy. “I guess he never said what sort of example.”

“Aw, leave him in peace. He deserves at least one morning off for once in his life.” Pulsar gave his nose a little flick. “What about us?”

“Stay here as well, I guess.” Skywarp grunted and after a little ineffectual squirming managed to fold her a little deeper into his arms. “Seeing as we can’t get up anyway, looks like we have the boss’s permission for a lay in.”

“Probably imprudent to go to work with paintstrikes in his colours, as well.” Pulsar examined a little azure scuff on the teleport’s obsidian enamel. “Would you take a bath with me?”

“Guess I can indulge you, this once.” Skywarp remained silent for several loaded seconds before speaking again. “And fine. You were right.”

“…What?”

“…He is a better frag than me.”

Pulsar tried unsuccessfully to smother him with a pillow.

---------------

If you need a soundtrack to this, I guess it’d be this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSRYvYN1ayw (Górecki, by Lamb. One of my absolute favourites of all time)

(Yes OK I posted this to AO3 MONTHS ago. I’m still catching up with posting stuff here...)

#skywarp #thundercracker #pulsar #trine #short fic #blue au #transformers #there's probably better tags but i don't tumblr well

2 notes · View notes

artobotsrollout · 3 years ago

Note

Skdjfkg oh that is A MOOD, I leave sentence bits all the time. What are Thundercracker and Skywarp like? What are some things they like and dislike? I'm so so SO happy you're bringing Star's trine in!!

[I am so so sorry this has taken me so long to answer. I was so pumped to answer then I over thought my answer then I was worried because I wasn't sure if some things I said about them were going to be canon or not and then other drafts overtook it and made it hard to navigate to. 😢 I seriously appreciate your asks.]

Woo for half forgotten sentence bits!

And I'm so glad that you and other peeps are excited about the inclusion of Thundercracker and Skywarp in The Harbingers AU!!

Things may change as more of the story is developed but have my current thoughts on them.

Answers to your questions and a WIP sneak peak at Skywarp's design below the Readmore.

------------------------------------------------------

Before I begin I'm gonna get the obligatory 'This is not canon compliant nor other continuity compliant' general warning out of the way. (It's not aimed at anyone specifically I'm just covering my bases here. Also cause I'm ignoring fanon and a lot of canon unless I think it fits and like it. )

ONTO THE QUESTIONS!

------------------------------------------------------

What are Thundercracker and Skywarp like?

What are some things they like/dislike?

Skywarp and Thundercracker play a pretty big role in the Harbingers storyline so I'm P excited about em.

-Starscream is resilient, adaptive, cunning, unpredictable, brilliant, regal, precise, and dangerous. Hard to kill. Stubborn. He's not Megatron's second in command for a large chunk of time for kicks.

-Thundercracker is diplomatic, creative, hard to read, reliable, heavy hitter, perceptive, and a touch eccentric.

-Skywarp is mischievous, fast, a glass canon, hard to hit, hard to pin down, chaotic, intuitive, clever, and ruthless.

Thundercracker

A mech of few words and lacking in many exuberant expressions, many wonder what mysteries said mech hides. Some people pity him for Starscream and Skywarp 'stealing the spotlight'. Some think he's the real 'brains behind it all' and is too busy 'reigning in' his trine mates to live up to his true potential. Truth is that Thundercracker actually dislikes the spotlight and loves the energy that Skywarp and Starscream have (even if he gripes about it sometimes). Starscream is the brains, but he does run some things by TC when he needs another opinion. He really wishes that people would stop coming to him and putting his trine mates down just because they are energetic and expressive! He loves their energy and personalities! No one needs 'reigning in' and saying otherwise isn't alright. Those who work closely with the lead trine usually learn real fast not to disrespect any of the trine. Except Ramjet. Ramjet is stubborn and refuses to stop being a little shit about everyone even though he's punished with terrible duties every time he does so. The only ones allowed to insult his trinemates are him and his trinemates.

Many assume Thundercracker must be the straight man to Skywarp's nonsense upon acquaintance but they would all be very wrong. TC just gives off less of an outward obvious energy compared to Skywarp and Starscream. Between the three of them he's basically the best with people and most diplomatic. Can be manipulative if a situation requires it. Kinda has Grimlock from Cyberverse energy. (my headcanon Grimlock in my AU is the Grimlock that's in RiD15 because that's peak him IMO) For a Decepticon he's considered rather polite. The fact that he's the one people usually approaches first annoys TC to no end.

He limits how much he talks, outside of the company of mechs he actually likes to talk to, to save energy. Helping Starscream keep the mechs who follow him happy and helping to find solutions for arguments requires a lot of diplomatic skills and patience which can sometimes leave him exhausted. On his off time he usually sticks close to his trine or hides in his quarters.

He frequently plays the moral centre when situations get outta hand. Closet theatre kid. Some people have made the mistake of calling him "soft". But the whole Trine holds such a high rank in the Decepticons for a reason. And Starscream would not have trined with just anyone.

I'm still kinda figuring TC out so the above may change as time goes on. His personality and deeper motivations are just not coming to me quite like Skywarp's, Ironhide's, and Jazz's did. I think I need to write some head trine shenanigans to really figure his whole deal out.

Likes

Stories in any form. (He comes to really enjoy cartoons, comics, and musicals.)

Watching awful movies and shows with Skywarp and Starscream and mocking it mercilessly.

Writing and art

Cute things

Earth animals

Discussing nerd art and literature stuff with Starscream

Helping Skywarp plan his pranks

Dislikes

Megatron

Having nothing to do/boredom

When Skywarp and Starscream argue about something small and unimportant.

Headcanon Voiceactor Potentials:

Markiplier or ProZD

Notes:

Has a small superstitious streak that Skywarp has been known to abuse with his pranking.

A closet theatre nerd

Has a great singing voice and secretly wishes someone would break into song with him.

Skywarp

Lil sneak peek of my Harbingers Skywarp design!!

I've been tweaking things about his design for awhile now and I'm still tweaking but I'm finally getting somewhere sncjek. Fun fact about his design!! For some of his proportions I'm referencing ferret anatomy.

Does a lot of cackling while he fights. Switches between rough front line scrapper to sneaky stealth attacks.

Skywarp is the sort of person who is more than meets the eye. I'm sorry I HAD to 😂.

Skywarp is very high energy with a mischievous streak a mile long. He is unapologetically himself and gives exactly zero frags about what most others think of him. Besides the whole cackling like a gremlin at everything and causing problems on purpose thing, Skywarp is pretty easygoing temperament wise. He isn't afraid of change or the new and unusual. He let's things go quickly so he's almost impossible to prank or insult back in any satisfying way since he really isn't bothered by much. He really doesn't care that he has a reputation of not being the smartest cause it means people underestimate him. He's more patient and skilled than he lets on. He and Thundercracker are two of Starscream's closest right hand mechs for a reason. But he's not self conscious about this perception and sometimes will actively play into it. An enemy who underestimates you is a more easily beatable one. Skywarp is still loveably head empty no thoughts though. He reserves his patience and smarts for pranks and the battlefield. He has zero brain to mouth filter and is impulsive 70% of the time. Oddly drops wisdom bombs on occasion.

Skywarp's hijinks also kind of puts him in a role similar to a court jester. He acts goofy because that's just who he is a person but the upside of that is some people don't take him as seriously as they should. So he overhears a LOT of conversations from mechs who assume he's not listening. This makes it handy to give Starscream inside information.

Another upside of people underestimating him is it makes it almost laughably easy to get the drop on people. Don't be fooled by his goofiness this mech can be dangerously patient. His impressive agility, surprising patience, and ridiculously good hand eye coordination make him unpredictably deadly for foe and prankable ally alike. He can play the long game.

Likes

Pranks

Dumb dad jokes and puns.

Watching awful movies and shows with Thundercracker and Starscream and mocking it mercilessly.

Copying stunts he saw in a movie once

Saying or doing things wrong on purpose purely to annoy his trine mates

Watching horror movies and laughing every time someone dies an easily preventable death. Is frequently overheard whispering "Get em!" at the monster/serial killer.

Dancing

Dislikes

Starscream and Thundercracker having loud philosophical arguments discussions when he's trying to sleep

Being nitpicked

Musicals

Headcanon Voiceactor Potentials:

Bradley Cooper (Similar voice he does for Rocket in Guardians of the Galaxy)

Again I'm so sorry this took so long!! I was actually planning on waiting till I finished their rough references but I'm STILL struggling with TC and I don't want to postpone this any longer so Ill just post the refs when I finish them. Thank you so much again for the questions you send in! I love and appreciate them and they are always a blast to answer.

#Harbingers au #The Harbingers au #My aus #Skywarp #Thundercracker #H!Skywarp #H!Thundercracker #harbingers #harbingers continuity #autothots continuities #autothots aus

22 notes · View notes

ask-prime-starscream · 4 years ago

Photo

Now what? - The future of this blog

Currently I have five Alternate Universes float around in my head and maybe you’ll like them to come to life here? I plan fanart, comics and maybe some graphic novel style with art and written text. Please share your thoughts and opinions. <3 I. How to raise your sparkling - TFA AU

After Starscream got captured by the Elite Guard, they start to experiment with his CNA to create Autobots with flight ability. However, Starscream manages to free himself and out of spite he snatches the two protoforms right out of their incubator. But he doesn’t feel pleased with himself for long. On the run and with now two demanding sparklings craving his attention, killing Megatron and ruling the universe isn’t such an easy goal anymore...

II. Metroplex Asylum - IDW1/Cyberverse AU set after TAAO

Based on the scrapped idea for Starscream to return with amnesia, after his Quintesson form got destroyed. I would let this take place in the Cyberverse universe, but IDW1 provides so much better world building and consequences, so it’s set there. Windblade fights Vigilem alone in her own head until Starscream logs in to help. During the procedure, Vigilem manages to almost totally override Starscream’s brain-module which forces Airachnid to call a halt before it’s too late. She fries the unwelcome foreign pattern inside Starscream’s head, causing irreparable damage. When Starscream wakes up again - something they didn’t even hope for - he has only a fleeting grasp of some events (mostly early war), tends to terrible mood swings and is obsessed with Windblade, who feels responsible for him, but can’t handle his unfiltered feelings towards her. In the end they have no other choice, but to put the Chosen One, the leader of Cybertron, into an institution full with other bots with mental health issues. While Starscream bends over backwards to make sense of his surroundings and is generally at peace with himself, the past, present and future won’t stop haunting him.

III. Endless Utopia - IDW2 AU

I already started this comic until I put it on hiatus last year. However, I have nine pages in the making and plan to update this soon and hopefully at a faster pace. This AU is based on the idea of a “Nicescream”. Even though his life is more than complicated, he found his own little happiness. But pre-war Cybertron won’t leave him alone.

IV. Moon City - No specific universe with a pinch of Armada

Decades after the war between Autobots and Decepticons ended, earth is a mostly unhabitable place thanks to climate change and World War III. The only flicker of hope for the average human survivor is Moon City, a base built on the moon with artificial atmosphere and Cybertronian technology. While it provides a life in luxury and first of all health, not everyone can enter and the cost of living is sky high. Alexis Thi Dang got the grades to be accepted at the Moon City Academy, but scrapping the money together to keep studying is a daily struggle. Desperately searching on the network for ways to get benefits, she stumbles over the possible solution: In this city of the future, humans who are partnered to a Cybertronian are extremely privileged. Especially the winners of the war, the Autobots, are highly demanded partners. The Council of Humanity even runs a secret project to create a techno-organic mix-race which is supposed to be the answer to the new living conditions in space and possible colonies in foreign atmospheres. Anybody contributing to this goal has their place in Moon City ensured. Alexis however, is among the population just an average Jane, so she cannot even dream of finding a Cybertronian who wants to hook up with a human. Therefore she surfs the dark net and finds a fishy organization willing to provide her a partner... Starscream is on the run since the war ended and hides in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter where he scratches together all the energon he can find. One day he gets roused by humans searching for the same... and Cybertronian spare parts. Barely able to flee, he looks for a safe haven and meets Swindle who is into some not so legal businesses and makes Starscream some not so confidence-inspiring promises to smuggle him into Moon City, the only place of Cybertronian standards he can reach for now. Desperate, Starscream agrees... and gets paired up with Alexis. The beginning of a “wonderful�� partnership.

V. Starscream the Movie - No specific universe

I once wanted to create a canon divergent Bumble Bee the Movie fic. This was born out of the idea that both Bee and Starscream are stranded on earth, but I rewrote the whole thing into basically “What could a movie about Starscream look like?” So, we got everything. His creation, his place among the Decepticons, his relationship with Megatron and of course his flock, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Slipstream... a benevolent doctor called Knock Out and the joys of being a giant robot thrashing planets with primitive species and Autobots trying to protect them. Starscream’s winning streak goes to his head though and results in his fall from grace. He is basically degraded to hunt down insignificant Autobot bases and his first target is Bee on earth. This is probably my most ambitious project and that’s why I can’t reveal too much.

(VI. A forgotten grave - IDW1)

Short comic about Megatron who wants to meet Starscream one last time before his execution. Based on this:

Q: How did the LL crew - specifically Megatron - react to the deaths of Optimus, Soundwave, and Starscream?

A: Let's specifically focus on Megatron - he would've been conflicted about all three. Would've been most cut up over Starscream's death, because there was a lot of unfinished business between him and Starscream, and the reformed pacifist Megatron never got to meet Starscream. That probably eats away at him. Closely followed by Optimus. Would've been incredibly interested in what Soundwave had done and would've been proud of him. Imagine he would have been bitterly affected by all three deaths in slightly different ways.

While Megatron shows NEVER any regret about how he treated Starscream in the comics, I’ll just take this word of god here and do something with it.

---

Well then. Any thoughts? ;D

#Starscream #TFP Starscream #TFA Starscream #IDW Starscream #Jetfire and Jetstorm babies

152 notes · View notes

tarklesbehindthescenes · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, Tarkles! I've got a rarepair request for you. G1!Megatron/Ratchet. Any length you like and any circumstances you like, but maybe how they might end up getting to know each other. I hope that was specific enough, sometimes I'm not sure the amount of detail folks might need. Have a great day!

Ho-kay! So I went a little overboard! Word count capping at 1,360. Hope this falls in line with what you requested!

The Decepticons were a crafty bunch. Everybody knew this. Despite not having the smartest bots among their ranks, they made do with what they had or could get their hands on. Today was a case where they had to steal what they needed. Megatron sat within his quarters in his desk chair, optics offline, head resting on his right fist while his left tapped its fingers against the arm of the chair impatiently. Just how long were his soldiers going to keep him waiting?

Soundwave’s voice cut the silence through Megatron’s commlink. “Blitzwing and Skywarp inbound with the target.”

“About time,” the warlord grumbled in return. “Send them straight to me.”

Within five minutes, Blitzwing and Skywarp knocked at Megatron’s door, then stepped in once he bade them enter. Megatron flicked on his optics and turned his chair to see a furious and chained Ratchet gripped between the triple changer and grimacing seeker.

The commander raised a brow. “What is wrong with you, Skywarp?”

“Nothing, mighty Megatron,” Skywarp grunted through gritted teeth, shifting his legs with notable discomfort so they pointed slightly inward.

Blitzwing cleared his throat and gave Megatron a brief salute. “Target captured, sir!”

“You have ten seconds to explain why these brutes made a mess of my medbay and abducted me!” Ratchet snarled at him, staring with absolute loathing. Such a fiery temper. If Megatron had been in a better mood he would have been amused by it.

Instead he addressed his soldiers. “Remove his binds, then leave us. Skywarp, you will return to your duties. Blitzwing, you stand outside the door and keep guard.”

Skywarp threw Ratchet a wary look and winced when the medic returned it with a piercing glare. So it was up to Blitzwing to carry out the order while the seeker beat a hasty retreat. Once Ratchet was freed, Blitzwing stepped outside and shut the door behind him, leaving them alone.

“Well?” Ratchet demanded.

“I will get to my reason in a moment. You were unharmed, correct?” Megatron checked, remaining in his seat.

The Autobot before him huffed and placed his fists on his hips. “Aside from some mild aches, no. I sustained no injuries. Why?”

“Because this meeting—”

“Kidnapping.”

“—is happening under a white flag.” The Decepticon commander finished.

The ambulance scoffed with a roll of his optics. “And what are the terms of this ‘meeting’?”

“You solve my medical issue, we will return you to your team unharmed.”

Ratchet squinted. “You want me to fix you? You’ve got Hook. You’ve got Soundwave. Get one of them to do it.”

Megatron glowered in return. “Do you think I would have my mechs bring you here if I hadn’t expended my resources already?” He hissed. “This is beyond their knowledge. Will you assist under these terms or won’t you?”

There was a thick silence that fell between them as the medibot thought over the request. Just as the warmonger was about to lose his patience, Ratchet huffed and lowered his arms to his sides. “Alright, what’s wrong with you? Aside from everything about you.”

“The humor in your sarcasm is lost on me,” Megatron said. “I find my stabilizers are not functioning as they should. It is not a matter of a broken part. Hook and Soundwave both confirmed that.”

Ratchet made a gesture to encourage Megatron out of his chair. “Get up. Let’s see it.”

“I said solve it. You do not need to see it.”

“Do you want my help or not?” He snapped back. “Let’s get one thing clear, Megatron. You summoned me here as a last resort. You have confidence that I know what I’m doing. And I do. Nobody does a medical job the way that I do it. If you want my help, then you will do things my way.”

This no-nonsense attitude was irritating, but at the same time Megatron had to admire it, if only slightly. The other Autobots all talked tough, but when it came time to combat him, few of the warriors had the nerve to face him alone or bark out orders at him like Optimus Prime did. Their cranky medic, however, clearly cared little about Megatron’s capabilities and stood right next in line to Prime in that aspect.

With reluctance, Megatron got to his feet and wobbled a bit. He put his arms out at 45 degree angles to his sides, working to keep balance as he took a few steps forward. He wasn’t able to walk straight in the slightest, teetering from side-to-side before finally tripping on himself and collapsing on his side with a surprised shout.

This appeared to attract Blitzwing’s attention as he came bursting back into the room. “Megatron?!” He yelled.

The commander shot him a furious look as he struggled back to his feet. “Did I give you permission to come back in?!”

The triple changer shrunk back a little, looking confused.

Ratchet proceeded to grab Megatron’s arm and guide him toward the door. “Yeah, there’s something janky, all right.”

“What are you doing?” The warlord demanded.

“You don’t expect me to fix you with no tools, do you?” The medic pointed out. “Where’s your medbay?”

Humiliating as it was to be paraded for his army to see in this condition, he had to admit it was a necessary evil. He should have just put himself in the medbay in the first place, all things considered. What tugged at Megatron’s mind, though, was the fact that as they traveled, it wasn’t Blitzwing helping him stay upright. It was Ratchet.

When they entered the medbay, Ratchet threw his gaze around it with growing frustration. “Hook leaves his work space in this condition?”

“No,” Blitzwing answered. “It’s the other Constructicons whenever he’s not looking. Just to annoy him the next time he enters.”

Ratchet muttered under his intakes as he deposited Megatron on an empty table before he began looking around for the needed tools. “Take off your helmet,” he barked over his shoulder.

Before doing so, Megatron shot the triple changer a warning and dismissive look. Blitzwing took the hint and scampered out of the bay, shutting the door behind him again.

“It’s a wonder you Decepticons have even lasted this long,” Ratchet continued to gripe. “You need to get yourselves a bot with real medical training!”

“We’re a little spread thin, at the moment,” Megatron grunted. “Even back on Cybertron.”

“All I hear is an excuse.” The ambulance returned to Megatron’s side and opened up a panel in the back of his head and plugged in a cable attached to a handheld console. With deep concentration, he made use of the console in silence until he finally said, “Aha. Yep. That would do it.”

“What? What would do it?” The Decepticon leader asked, turning his head to try and see.

Ratchet just forced him to face the front again before removing the console and walking to one of the few computers in the room. “Your BIOS isn’t playing right. It isn’t shooting the right hardware address for your systems to find the stabilizers. Just needs an update, that’s all.”

Megatron stared at the back of Ratchet’s head. He made it sound so simple. Like it should have been found immediately. “Why didn’t Hook or Soundwave figure that out?” He scowled.

“Because they didn’t go to medical school and haven’t been doing repairs like this for twelve million years. You need to know where to look.” The medic returned to standing behind Megatron and plugged the console back into his head. Words flashed across Megatron’s vision telling him to standby as an update was being downloaded and installed. Approximately thirty minutes. “There.” Ratchet said. “We’ll just give that time to put itself in.”

The room fell silent as Megatron processed the new information he’d obtained about the Autobot medic through this ‘meeting’. The attitude, the confidence, the disregard of factions simply to provide aid to a bot in need. And… he’d put fear into the spark of one of his seekers. How? This medibot was certainly drawing the warlord’s interest. Perhaps… he should ‘meet’ with Ratchet for any future health issues Megatron develops.

Yes.

#Asks #AO3 #short story #I had fun with this #Transformers #MegaRatchet #Megatron #Ratchet #G1 #maccadam

23 notes · View notes

the-odd-job · 4 years ago

Text

Harem AU Chapter 6 - Waiting Game

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Characters: Megatron, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Skywarp, Starscream, Unnamed Characters Relationships: Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Additional Tags: Referenced Rape, Referenced Orgy, Coercion, Angst Words: 9428

No I’m not late with this or anything, what are you talking about.

I’m really excited for chapter 7, ngl. But this first.

He would have never guessed that it was possible to fall asleep after something like that. How could the mind calm down enough to allow for rest?

But it wasn’t about the mind. It was about the body, pushed to its limit by an overload after overload—energy reserves used to depletion, all charge drained from one’s batteries.

Exhaustion.

It didn’t matter how the mind suffered and reeled, at that point. The frame took over, demanding things. Demanding rest. A chance to recharge.

And that was what it had decreed in the end. Sunstreaker wasn’t sure how long it had taken, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Those memories were best blurry and out of focus.

Like how many unwanted overloads it had taken to finally knock him out. Sideswipe, too. How much distress it had taken for their minds to shut down, only now beginning to return to him as he climbed out from the grasp of pitch black sleep.

He wished he could’ve fallen straight back into it when reality began to creep in, but his processors’ march to consciousness was unrelenting. Memories began to flood in too, fuzzy as they were, and long before he wanted to, he became aware of where he was.

Of where he still was.

The only upside in the whole situation was that he couldn’t feel his field or scan his spark signature. Before his optics opened, Sunstreaker was already mostly confident that Megatron was not in the vicinity, and once his optics did open, a glance around confirmed that the tyrant was nowhere to be seen.

Figures. He probably had more important things to go, being the leader of the whole goddamned city and whatnot. Have his fun, fuck and rape, then go on his merry way without a backwards glance!

He couldn’t confirm that last one, but it wouldn’t have surprised him.

There were plenty other spark signatures around him, other fields—Sideswipe was passed out next to him, warm to the touch and–

And covered in all manner of fluids.

Sunstreaker averted his gaze quickly, scanning the rest of the room. They were still on the large berth, and although there were a couple of other mates on it as well, most were recharging in their own cots. Some were already awake, talking in hushed tones to avoid disturbing those that were still resting, but even that didn’t account for everyone.

It appeared quite a few of the mates had recovered faster than him and Sideswipe had. But considering they had gotten most of Megatron—and Soundwave’s—attention, Sunstreaker thought that was fair enough. They hadn’t been allowed to choose their pace, or whether or not they’d like to have breaks, or—Primus, if they even wanted to interface in the first place.

He was shaking, his plating rattling just so. Were his ventilations a little faster than what they were supposed to be? Those were probably just the aftereffects of everything that had happened during the course of the night.

Everything else he shoved down deep, twice as resolutely when Sideswipe began to stir next to him. A small, wounded moan was the first sign of life his brother made, and it was nearly enough to break Sunstreaker’s spark all over again.

As if it had ever recovered from the first time.

Sideswipe returned to awareness much faster, panic seeping in before conscious thought. His optics snapped open to a wild look around, an uncoordinated jerk in his limbs.

“Hey, hey,” Sunstreaker said at once, battling his own frame to roll onto his knees and land a servo on Sideswipe’s shoulder—and wincing from the stab of pain from his lower body.

Megatron hadn’t gone out of his way to damage them this time around (and Soundwave hadn’t seemed interested in that either), but his valve was still throbbing angrily and his hip joints protested how much time they’d spent spread around someone’s hips.

He wanted to purge, but pushed that down with the rest of it to focus on Sideswipe instead. His twin’s optics locked on him after a pass around the room, and slowly the look of prey faded from them as his mind caught up.

Megatron wasn’t here, relief. Sunstreaker was here, relief.

Sideswipe’s mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. What was there to say anyway? What could they say? Something to make things better?

There was nothing that would make things better.

That thought snapped between them like a whiplash, and Sideswipe caught his lower lip between his denta before he dropped his gaze. Sunstreaker’s servo on his shoulder tightened.

He hated to see his brother like this. Sideswipe was supposed to be larger than life, the light in the room, centerpiece of any party—everyone’s friend, always cheerful, refusing to let anything bring him down.

Here and now? What Sideswipe was meant to be and what he was were… Miles apart.

But was that any wonder? There was the whole of a planet between where they were and where they were supposed to be.

Their life had been torn from them. They had been given no chances to let that sink in. All there had been was a relentless input of new things intermittent with abuse, abuse, and more abuse. Change after change after change… And more trauma than he had wanted to believe was possible.

And he feared this was only just the beginning.

That thought he didn’t want to reach Sideswipe, though, so instead he gave his brother a gentle shake to earn those optics back on him.

Sunstreaker smiled. Just a small smile, but even that felt so… Fake. And like it hurt to even produce the expression.

There was no reason to smile, but for Sideswipe he’d try to do so anyway.

“How-” he started, before thinking better of it and cutting his vocalizer. There was no point in asking how Sideswipe felt. Useless words, when he could feel and see all too well how Sideswipe was feeling.

Not well.

To put it mildly.

What to say instead? Or should he let there be silence?

“We- We should probably visit the washracks. Would you like to?”

Sideswipe took a moment to register his words before he nodded carefully, and swallowed, hard.

They both cringed at the taste of transfluid on his glossa and at the back of his throat, but Sideswipe nodded again, more firmly this time around, and began to push himself up. “Yeah, that… That sounds like a good idea,” he said quietly, flinching when he caught a sight of his frame.

Paint transfers and fluids were splattered liberally all over him. Sunstreaker knew he didn’t look any better.

They really needed those washracks.

As one they scooted over to the edge of the berth and dropped down onto the dais it was on, and from there to the level of the rest of the berthroom. Some of the other mates glanced their way, but they didn’t stick around to see if anyone would’ve liked to say something to them.

They had been a part of it. All of them. Mecha in the same situation as they were… There was no way all of them were here any more willingly than them, and yet.

The fragging shit they’d done. To them. To each other. Just…

He didn’t even want to think about it. He could feel his anger rising, but it had no target in the present, and he didn’t want to take it out on Sideswipe. Sideswipe stumbled along next to him as they crossed the short distance through the hallway into the washracks, that weren’t empty—of course they weren’t, that would’ve been far too much to ask—but that still held the promise of washing away at least some of the signs of the… Orgy.

They scurried over to the far end of the room, to the last showerheads, and then under their hot sprays. Solvent pattered down their frames, and slowly it began to loosen the dried fluids, a process made much faster by the smooth coat Knock Out had applied onto their paint jobs, compared to the rough texture of…

Of before.

How many times did it need to be said he’d rather have that life than this? It might’ve been a life of poverty, of scraping by, of going hungry, of uncertainty—but was there any more certainty in this?

Beyond the certainty of more ways to hurt them, physically and emotionally.

They had fuel, they had access to high quality paints and polishes, to washracks… A roof over their helms.

But the price wasn’t worth it.

Sunstreaker shuttered his optics, letting the solvent fall over him and soothe aching cables as it trailed into his internals through the gaps in his armor. Beside him Sideswipe did the same, and blissfully the other occupants didn’t break the silence of the washracks either. Maybe it was just because of the two of them, but the mood felt so somber. Like it wouldn’t have been right to speak.

So they didn’t. Without a word, but together, they grabbed scrubs and began to clean their plating to the best of their ability, helping each other where appropriate. The sealant Knock Out had used to protect their new paint was surprisingly good at its job. The paint transfers littering them came off in a way Sunstreaker hadn’t experienced before. Usually that amount of scuffs would’ve required touching up the underlying paint afterwards, but now… That didn’t seem necessary.

He wasn’t sure how grateful he was about that. It was one less thing to worry about, but also another consequence of their situation—a separation from before, when they evidently hadn’t sealed their paint properly, or hadn’t had the ability to seal their paint properly. Whichever it was.

Same result.

It always came back to it: he’d rather have the before, even with all of the supposed downsides it had come with.

They hardly even seemed like downsides anymore, compared to the downsides of being held captive in Kaon like this.

But as easily as the paint transfers came off, and no matter how well the solvent and the scrub dislodged the fluids that had dried on him, they did little to remove the ghost sensations that were left behind—and they did nothing to the way lubricant and transfluid streamed from his valve when he opened his cover against his better judgement. The moment he did, Sideswipe wished he hadn’t, but… He just wanted it out. Was that too much to ask? Too much to hope that he could make it feel like nothing had happened?

It was, wasn’t it? Gravity pulled out quite a bit of it, but he knew, he just knew there was still so much left inside that he had no way to remove.

And he didn’t want to touch it. Primus, he just…

His helm hung. He knew Sunstreaker was worried about him, and Sideswipe knew he was… Acting out of character in a lot of ways.

But could he be blamed for it? Look at what had happened to them. What did they have but each other, anymore?

What had they ever had besides that?

Freedom, that’s what. A right to self-dictate.

His paint was gleaming already, but that was only because of the repaint Knock Out had given them. He looked good.

He didn’t feel good. He didn’t want to look good. He wished he looked the part of the guttermech he was, even if he’d spent his life fighting that very appearance. But it was better than this—being a pretty, polished doll for one tyrant and his lackeys to use. And if he’d ever thought… If he’d ever thought that the other mates could be allies in this situation, those hopes had been crushed last night.

They were complicit. They did what Megatron told, even if… Even when that involved what it had.

It was so wrong. Didn’t they see how wrong it was? How could they just…

How could they?

Sunstreaker’s servo closed around his wrist and Sideswipe was snapped back to the present enough to realize he had washed the same spot for a needlessly long amount of time already. There was nothing left to clean in that area. There was nothing coming out of his valve anymore, his crotch and inner thighs washed clean by the running solvent, and he let his cover close back up.

So why didn’t he feel clean?

Why couldn’t he forget how many servos had grabbed him by the hips to–

His claws, sharp like they hadn’t been since they were first activated, had dug furrows into the soft scrub. Sunstreaker’s hold on his wrist tightened. “I’m fine,” Sideswipe whispered on reflex, knowing full well his brother’s concern.

He was lying. They both knew he was. He couldn’t lift his helm. Couldn’t… Couldn’t just put on an act and pretend that was the truth. He’d always been able to before, no matter what had happened.

But never before had this happened. Evidently there were limits to what even he could fake his way through.

Sunstreaker didn’t say anything, but let go of his arm to go back to cleaning himself up. They were both clean already though, at least visually. There was nothing more to wash away. No paint transfers, no lubricant, no transfluid.

Nothing but the feel of it all, and Sideswipe wasn’t sure if that could be washed away. Maybe in a million years they could’ve.

But not so quickly.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice from behind them and Sideswipe jolted from his thoughts. Both him and Sunstreaker spun on their heels to face Skywarp, Sideswipe with wide optics, Sunstreaker with a growl.

Skywarp shrunk back a little bit from the aggression aimed at him, but wasn’t wholly discouraged. “Um, I came to see if you needed help washing up, but it looks like you got it already,” the Seeker said. He was clean too, but that wasn’t a surprise considering he hadn’t been in the berthroom anymore when they’d woken up.

Under different circumstances, the offer would’ve been a nice gesture.

Under these circumstances?

“You have some fucking gall,” Sunstreaker hissed. Sideswipe’s ventilations hitched, and he didn’t, couldn’t look at Skywarp, letting his gaze drop again. Sunstreaker stepped up in front of him, between him and the Seeker, and he was angry. He was so angry it was like a physical wall between him and the rest of the world.

Skywarp wasn’t completely blind to the danger and took a step back from Sunstreaker’s righteous fury. And it was righteous.

Look at what Skywarp had done. Right along with the rest of them.

And now he was here, acting like none of it had happened.

This place was so upside down. If it wasn’t for Sunstreaker, Sideswipe thought he might’ve started doubting the whole fabric of reality at this rate.

‘Yeah, I participated in your gang rape, but would you like me to help you wash up?’

Not even an apology. “You and the whole rest in this Primus forsaken place!” Sunstreaker continued, his voice rising until it was nothing short of a bellow. Skywarp took another step back.

Sunstreaker didn’t pursue, but Sideswipe knew the only reason for that was that he didn’t want to leave Sideswipe alone. If it wasn’t him inadvertently holding Sunstreaker back, there would’ve been nothing to save the Seeker from his brother’s wrath.

Justified wrath, if you asked Sideswipe.

“I just thought-” Skywarp tried to say, but Sunstreaker didn’t let him finish.

“Get. Out,” the golden twin snarled instead, pointing at the door. He probably had no rights to order anyone around, yet in the face of the anger directed at him, Skywarp took yet another step back.

“If-” he tried to speak again, and again Sunstreaker cut him off.

“OUT!”

Sideswipe was pretty sure that could be heard all throughout the harem wing, but at least Skywarp finally believed there was nothing he could achieve here, and hurried to the door with just one backwards glance.

He looked… Sad? Hurt?

He had no right.

The few other mates that had been in washracks cleared out quickly after their winged compatriot, sending more glances their way.

And then they were alone.

Sunstreaker’s engine revved, but Sideswipe slumped back against the wall under the still running shower. Numbly he reached for the controls and turned it off—to conserve the amount of solvent used, but what did it matter how much of it was used? Whose solvent was it?

Megatron’s. Everything here was Megatron’s.

Including them.

His vents hitched again at that thought, at the reminder—why Sunstreaker was angry at Skywarp.

The whole fucking mess of it.

Skywarp had been a part of it. And– He hadn’t come to apologize, had he? Unless offering help was his way of apologizing.

But he could’ve said something too. Some acknowledgment that what had happened was so, so wrong. They too had to think it wasn’t right, didn’t they? How could anyone think it was okay? He was pretty sure Megatron knew it was messed up too, but Megatron just enjoyed that fact.

What about the rest of them, though? If Megatron’s behavior could be explained away with just sadism and cruelty, what was the excuse for the others?

Was it going to happen again? Were they, all of them, going to do it again? Turn their audials off to any protests they had, because… What, just because Megatron told them to?

He knew all too well what Megatron was like, already, and they’d barely known him for any amount of time. In that he really… He really couldn’t blame the others for not disobeying him.

But he still didn’t understand it. There was no resistance whatsoever, not even any visible reluctance.

They just did it.

They’d said no, and they just did it.

They might act nice towards them, be helpful, or try to be… Skywarp, Runabout. Aside from Starscream’s weird attitude, no one had been mean towards them.

Aside from last night.

They were just as messed up as the rest of this. How was he even supposed to look at any of them anymore, after what they’d done to them? How was he supposed to look at Starscream and not think of the Seeker’s face or valve right next to him as he serviced Megatron right in front of his optics? Without any signs of hesitation?

Or Skywarp. How he had just… How everyone had just…

How much more of this was there going to be?

When was it going to end?

“What are we going to do?” Sideswipe blurted, prompting Sunstreaker to break his angry staring contest with the door. “We need to get the frag away from here.”

Desperate.

Get out.

But how?

When?

“We’ll find a way,” Sunstreaker said, promised, turning back to him and wrapping him into a warm and familiar embrace. And Sideswipe wanted to believe. He buried his face in the crook of his twin’s neck, and he wanted so badly to believe that they would find a way out before… Primus, he wasn’t sure. Before what?

How much more of this could he take? What would happen when he couldn’t take it anymore? “We just need to hold out until we do,” Sunstreaker whispered to him, and Sideswipe could feel the shiver in him. Neither of them was unaffected by this. But they were holding it together pretty well, weren’t they? Despite everything.

They’d beat the odds before. They would this time too. Like Sunstreaker said, they’d just need to survive until then. They could do that.

That thought and the pulse of his brother’s half-spark against his chassis steeled his resolve. It was just them, but that was fine, because it had always been just them. And that was all they’d ever needed.

It would be all they needed here too. They would find a way out, and they would do so before it was too late. No, no. It would never be too late. They would just need to be patient and wily, outsmart the cage they were in, undo all of its locks, and steal back their life.

“Yeah,” he responded to Sunstreaker with no more volume than what Sunstreaker had used, and wrapped his arms around his twin in turn. And he meant it. Maybe… Maybe all they’d need were little moments like these to keep a hold of their sanity until they could break free.

The washrack door opened with the quiet swoosh of a well oiled mechanism and they glanced up in alarm. One of the mates was standing in the doorway, looking a little awkward. Like he didn’t want to be there. “Hey. Sorry about the interruption, but,” and Sideswipe tensed all over, because how could any news borne by their assailants be good ones?

His gut was proven right a second later. “Megatron’s summoned you, Sideswipe.

“Alone.”

“What the pit…” Sideswipe whispered, and Sunstreaker growled, his arms tightening around him.

“No,” his brother said. “You can go tell him to frag off.”

Sideswipe burrowed into Sunstreaker’s embrace, his spark beginning to flutter faster and faster with the implications.

Alone with Megatron.

It was bad enough with Sunstreaker there, when he could draw strength from his brother and share the experience and the attention. Sure, they were used against each other too, but it was still better to be together. Bearable to be together.

It was never bearable.

How was he supposed to go without his brother?

His plating was clattering against Sunstreaker’s, but that only made his twin tighten his hold enough that Sideswipe worried their armors would buckle.

And as much as he trusted his brother, as much as he knew Sunstreaker’s desire to protect him from everything and anything… He feared there was nothing Sunstreaker could do to protect him from this. Not from Megatron.

That was a terrible, terrible thought. He keened at the inevitability of it all, of the– Of the–

“Please please please no,” he pleaded, looking up at the other mate still standing in the doorway. “Please I can’t– I can’t go through that, not again, not with him– Please.”

Tears welled, then fell at the thought of what Megatron could do to him, and oh Primus but there was so much, and he was sure his imagination still couldn’t conjure anything even halfway as awful as what Megatron would think to do. Even with everything that had happened already, no matter how many times and in how many ways they’d already been raped, he was sure Megatron would find new ways to torture and humiliate them.

Him. Just him, if he went alone. “I can’t,” was what it all boiled down to, and he couldn’t even hate how badly his voice cracked when he said that, trying so hard to beg with the newsbringer. Make them understand.

Their look was sad, pitying. Maybe they did understand.

Maybe they’d been through the same thing.

Maybe they didn’t have a twin to share it all with in the first place.

But they were a part of it. Had been, last night. They’d carry out Megatron’s orders.

And even if they didn’t want to do that, what could they do? Could they really just carry the message back to him, ‘hey, they don’t want to, so I guess this isn’t happening’?

Inevitable. Megatron was inevitable. This was his kingdom and all in it lived to serve.

Strength left him, and only Sunstreaker’s hold of him kept him up. “Sunny,” he whined, pathetic, but he was beyond caring about his own dignity. As if he even had any left at this point. “I can’t do it, please.”

Sunstreaker understood, if no one else did, and a protective growl rumbled in his brother’s engine. “He won’t get you,” Sunstreaker promised quietly but resolutely—and despite that, Sideswipe could feel Sunstreaker’s uncertainty.

The want to protect was real, so very real, and there wasn’t a single fiber in his twin’s being that wanted to hand him over to their tormentor.

But neither of them knew how to avoid it. What could they do? They were so powerless against the tyrant.

The mate had disappeared from the doorway, but Sideswipe didn’t feel even a moment’s relief at that fact. And he was right. A moment later two guards and Starscream entered, the Seeker following behind the black clad mechs. “Our Master doesn’t make requests,” he said, sounding annoyed, like this all was just an inconvenience to him. The guards came for them, but Sunstreaker positioned himself between them and him, and Sideswipe cringed further against his chassis.

Inevitable.

“Resistance is futile.” Starscream’s words sounded like they came from a mile away with the way panic began to pound in his audials, but there the Seeker was, echoing thoughts they’d already had.

Turning them into hard truths.

He was frozen in place when the guards took a hold of Sunstreaker and forcibly pulled him away despite his cursing, but without his brother there, fight or flight took over.

He chose flight.

Sideswipe bolted for the doorway the Seeker blissfully wasn’t blocking, through it and into the hallway, and–

And then he didn’t know where to go. Where could he go that would get him away from his fate?

There was further ruckus coming from the washracks behind him, and some other mates either hanging out in the hallway or on their way to here or there looked at him, but Sideswipe didn’t acknowledge them. He didn’t know what to do.

Until the sounds behind him got closer, the fields of the guards, and he took his legs under him again and dashed to the main doors leading in and out of the wing.

What did he do that for?

They were locked, as they had been before. The guards on this side having left them hadn’t changed that fact. Of course it hadn’t.

And he had nowhere else to go.

“Leave him alone!” Sunstreaker yelled behind him, his voice registering dimly but enough that Sideswipe cast one panicked look over his shoulder.

There were mecha peeking through the doorways, curious over what all the fuss was about. There was Sunstreaker, struggling against Starscream’s hold, but unable to break it. Held back. “Sideswipe! You fragging dronebrains, leave him alone!”

And there were the guards, headed straight for Sideswipe.

Give up?

No. That wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t just willingly subject himself to this.

He deserved better.

He had value, he had rights. This was wrong.

Megatron was wrong.

“Get away from me!” His voice was still shrill when he cornered himself against the grand doors. As ever, the guards offered no reaction, too intent on following their orders to the letter no matter what. What Sideswipe wanted was of no consequence when pitted against what Megatron wanted.

It wasn’t right!

The hallway was big, but it wasn’t big enough. When he made one last desperate attempt to get past the guards—and to where? The rest of the harem wing, only to be cornered again?—they only had to reach to get a hold of him, and the grip was like a vice.

“No!” He struggled all the same, but they merely caught him arm apiece, and push-dragged him towards the doors. “Let go of me! You- Don’t!”

He didn’t want to go through those doors. Not like this. He fought, he fought so hard, and he could hear Sunstreaker’s angry and fearful yells, and feel the way Starscream’s claws sank into his armor to keep him in place.

Just until they were through the doors and they closed behind him and the two guards with a decisive slam.

His ventilations came fast and hard and there was no willing them into a calmer pace, not when his spark was a whirlwind of fright and desperation. He offered none of his cooperation, but the guards were big and burly and didn’t give a damn about his struggles. He was marched through the halls and past the other doors until they came to those ones.

The ones he was going to have nightmares about for the rest of his life, most likely.

They opened to admit them to the bleak interior of Megatron’s wing, but where Sideswipe had expected to be merely shoved in to find a place to hide and postpone what couldn’t be avoided, the guards instead pulled him further into the wing.

And further, and further, all the way to the lounge at the end of the hallway.

Megatron was waiting, big and imposing despite the fact he was presently sitting on one of the couches with a cube of energon in one servo, a lit datapad in the other. He glanced up when they entered, his optics brightening with… Pleasure? Glee? Anticipation? Greed?

No matter what it was, Sideswipe wanted nothing to do with it.

“Ah, good, you’re here,” the tyrant said as he set the cube down on the table in front of him and subspaced his datapad. It was so conversational, the way he said it, like there was any damn way Sideswipe would’ve come here voluntarily.

Like there were any faint traces of cordiality or rapport between them.

As if they could have normal conversations.

A flick of Megatron’s servo as he rose to his pedes, and the guards let go of Sideswipe, turned around, and left. The door closed behind them, and Sideswipe doubted it would open again anytime soon.

And once again he was the target of Megatron’s focus, except this time there was nothing and no one to function as a buffer between them. Or as a distraction. Or… Anything.

Now there was nothing but the weight of those red optics staring down at him and making him feel so small and vulnerable.

Which he was, when compared to Megatron.

“Where’s your brother?” Megatron asked, but with the way he grinned when he said that, Sideswipe knew Megatron knew exactly where Sunstreaker was.

He was just toying with him.

Sideswipe responded anyway. “You only wanted me,” he said, trying and failing to keep his voice strong and steady.

Sunstreaker might’ve managed that feat.

He wasn’t Sunstreaker.

He was scared out of his wits without his brother. His voice betrayed him completely on that front, wavering and shaking, but he still hoped even some of his resolve remained and shone through—even one remnant of his belief that Megatron wasn’t within his rights to do this, no matter what the mech seemed to think.

But no one had the rights to do any of this to another living being. Not even the unquestioned ruler of Kaon.

“That I did,” Megatron said, sounding decidedly pleased. “Come. We have much to do.” Again there was a flick of his digits and the expectation that that was all the order Sideswipe would need, as it was all the order everyone else seemed to need.

“No,” was what he said instead, planting his pedes, raising his chin, and keeping his voice steady.

Just for the duration of that single word, but it was better than nothing, wasn’t it?

“No?” the tyrant asked, his amusement palpable. “I see. What would you like to do instead?”

Games. The damn megalomaniac was playing games with him, and Sideswipe’s spark spun wildly, but every moment spent pretending Megatron was in any way interested in what he wanted was one less moment spent doing what Megatron wanted.

“I would like to go home,” Sideswipe said, and his voice was shivering again.

“...Please,” he tacked on after a beat.

You know, just to be polite. Couldn’t hurt.

“Home?” Megatron mused, bending to pick his cube back up and… Sipping from it. As they talked.

So casual.

Sideswipe didn’t feel so casual. He swallowed, hard, but the dreadful anxiety didn’t lessen or go anywhere. Of course it didn’t.

“I hear you were guttermechs, you and your brother,” the grey mech continued while Sideswipe just stood there, with nowhere to go and nothing to say that would change the course of this. And no matter what Megatron said now, Sideswipe was sure it wouldn’t change anything. He was just toying with him.

And having fun while at it, by all appearances. “Do you even have anything to go back to?”

“Yes,” Sideswipe answered, and it was true.

There wasn’t a whole lot, he could admit that much. They hadn’t had a lot.

But they’d had enough.

“Really? Did you have everything you do now?” Games, games, games! Megatron knew what he was doing, and he was enjoying himself. There was that gleam in his optic, the caress of a smile on his lips.

Sideswipe didn’t want to play this game.

“You should thank me.”

For a moment he couldn’t believe what he heard. How had he– Why had he expected Megatron wouldn’t go there? Was there anything the tyrant wouldn’t do, any trick in the book he wouldn’t use?

But did he mean it? Sideswipe didn’t know. Maybe his view of reality was so warped that he did mean it, that he was functioning under the delusion that this was somehow an improvement.

It wasn’t, and damn him if he was ever going to be thankful for the abduction and the rape that Megatron seemed to be the base cause of.

Megatron’s orders, Megatron’s desires. “Never,” Sideswipe hiss-growled in a way that was more at home on Sunstreaker’s vocalizer. He could grasp anger now, his servos balling into fists.

That was the only answer there was to stupid suggestions like that.

“Hmh.” Megatron, so noncommittal, but with one more gulp he emptied his cube and dispersed it.

And Sideswipe’s anger deflated, burst by the spike of fear that thought it knew their little chat was over and they were about to get down to business.

That fear was joined by the fear that the other fear was correct when Megatron began to approach him, and how much fear was that?

A lot, Sideswipe concluded, because his knees nearly buckled from it and he barely managed to stumble away from the tyrant’s approach. His spark was spinning faster than it ever might’ve before. He hadn’t feared a great many things before. Maybe he should’ve, but he hadn’t.

And he’d never feared anything like he feared Megatron.

Megatron didn’t take offense in his escape this time either, and pits but Sideswipe wished he would’ve. It might’ve broken the aura of smug superiority and full control that surrounded the larger mech—compare that to Sideswipe, barely staying upright on weak legs, tripping over himself in his hurry to keep distance between them.

It was a doomed effort, like it had been all the times before. Slowly but surely—like he was drawing things out just for the sake of it—Megatron cornered him and snatched him by the arm before unceremoniously dragging him to the berthroom. That door closed too, once they were through it, and then he was once again tossed onto a massive berth. Megatron followed him onto it, but slowly enough that Sideswipe had the time to scoot to its furthest corner.

Out of reach.

Not that Megatron cared. Oh no, the tyrant had entirely different plans that apparently didn’t involve chasing Sideswipe around any more at all. Because Megatron merely settled himself onto the other end of the berth and spread his legs in invitation, that damn amusement in his optics when Sideswipe’s gaze passed between them and the dark crotch. “Coax it out.”

Sideswipe balked. “What?”

“Coax it out,” Megatron repeated patiently like the benevolent leader he wasn’t.

Did he really expect it? He was there and Sideswipe was here, and he wasn’t in range to force him.

Did he think Sideswipe would do it willingly?

He almost felt offended. “No!” he said, drawing his knees up and glaring at their captor. The whole situation was absurd enough that some of the anxiety melted away from sheer disbelief–

But it was quickly replaced by the fearful expectation of what Megatron’s plan here was. He had to have one beyond just expecting Sideswipe to do as he was told like a good little mech.

Everyone else might’ve done it, followed Megatron’s every word and gesture, but he fragging well wouldn’t.

That fear gained more fuel when Megatron still didn’t take the bait and merely said an even, “You will.”

And… Did or said no more than that. Sideswipe waited, a tense ball of nerves, but nothing happened.

Absolutely nothing.

Well, beyond Megatron shifting his attention away from him entirely. He pulled a datapad from his subspace and focused on it instead, leaving Sideswipe to wait.

And wait.

-----------------------------------------------

Hours passed. At some point Megatron got off the berth and moved to his desk, and by all appearances set to work on… What did tyrants even do for a living, besides ordering others around and creatively tormenting them? Sideswipe had no idea.

And Sideswipe… He was left to wait, there, at one end and one corner of the berth, with his knees drawn so tight to his chest and a pit of ever deepening confusion in his tanks.

You will. That sounded like a threat and a promise rolled into one, but as much as he already knew Megatron to be capable of, he had no idea how he planned to achieve this one thing when he didn’t look like he was planning to use his own frame to get it, this time. What did he expect to happen? For Sideswipe to suddenly change his mind? Out of boredom maybe?

Because he was bored. Anxious, but bored. He was prone to that to begin with and had always had bigger thrills than Sunstreaker just to keep himself satisfied.

And now he was left with nothing more to do than sit and stare at another mech’s back.

It didn’t sit too well with him, but it was far from making him desperate enough for something to do that he would’ve magically begun to want to service Megatron of all mecha. Or really anyone, at this point in time.

Everything was still too fresh for him to want anything to do with interfacing anytime soon.

And although he wasn’t forced to interface right then, Sideswipe only felt a modicum of relief. Sure, the present could’ve been worse, but he feared the future would be even worse than what the present could’ve been if things had at all gone like he’d expected them to. Megatron had a plan and an intent, there was no doubt about that even if Sideswipe had no idea what it was.

But the end goal at least had been made clear already: for Sideswipe to interface with him, presumably without too much force being involved.

If that was it, it was under his control, and it was an easy promise to make to himself and the world that he wouldn’t do it.

No matter what it came down to.

As long as Sunstreaker remained unharmed, but Sunstreaker wasn’t even here.

Why didn’t he feel so certain despite his desire to stand strong? Why did he trust Megatron to have too many trump cards that he wouldn’t be able to counter?

He could’ve taken it as a moment’s respite, but it didn’t feel like respite at all. Just a truckload of uncertainty over what the future would bring.

He stayed right where he was for what felt like an eternity while Megatron tapped away on his datapads. And then…

Then Megatron got up and left.

Sideswipe stilled in utter confusion when the door closed behind the tyrant and he was left alone in the damn mech’s berthroom.

He didn’t want to be alone there, even without Megatron present.

Yet he was, without exactly any say in the matter.

What the pit was going on?

And if he’d thought he’d been bored before, without even the stimulation of watching someone working—and that wasn’t exactly good entertainment either—he thought he was quickly driven towards insanity. He didn’t dare move though, just in case that would’ve summoned his harrower. Somehow. He sort of doubted there were cameras in Megatron’s personal quarters, but what did he know. Maybe the mech just really liked leaving his mates alone here, only to watch them squirm through some hidden cameras.

But Sideswipe wasn’t squirming. Sideswipe wasn’t really doing anything, in fact. Well, besides just… Waiting. Waiting for Megatron’s return, waiting for what would happen next, waiting for what kind of torture the future would bring.

He waited for a very long time. It was closer to a half an orn before he could hear pedesteps on the other side of the door and tensed all over from the light doze he had entered just to pass the time. Conflicted emotions followed right after, boredom warring with fear over whether it was better there was another living being to look at to have something to do, or if he’d rather not have Megatron anywhere near him.

The latter was winning by the time the door opened to admit the big mech. He strode in like he owned the place—which he did—and landed his optics on Sideswipe. The door closed behind him, and Sideswipe felt as trapped as he ever had.

Was this it? Had Megatron’s patience ran out and now he would just pin him down and rape him? At this point that might’ve even been relief, something familiar in the place of whatever this was.

But instead of coming for him directly, Megatron again climbed onto the berth and stayed well out of reach. He spread his legs, and then he gave the order again. “Coax it out.”

Sideswipe shook his helm. No. He still wasn’t about to do that. What had Megatron expected to achieve by leaving him alone for a time? Cooperation?

No fucking way.

Megatron waited for a time, gave him a chance to reconsider… And then moved. Sideswipe expected the worst the moment the tyrant came towards him and he bolted off the berth, but instead of pursuing him, Megatron merely…

Reclined. The fragger reclined on his berth like he was about to go to recharge.

And when his systems began to cycle down, Sideswipe realized that was exactly what he was doing.

What the pit?

It was like he didn’t even care Sideswipe was there, standing on the floor of his berthroom, watching him go to sleep. Did he think it was safe, that Sideswipe wouldn’t do anything to him while he was out of it and vulnerable?

Except… Was he vulnerable? Was a mech like Megatron ever vulnerable? Was he dumb enough to shut down all of his systems for recharge, or did he leave enough on to royally mess Sideswipe up if he got too close or tried anything?

Greater mecha than him had probably tried to off the tyrant, but here Megatron was still. What chances did Sideswipe have against him? And there were two ways that could go. Either Megatron would just be amused, or he would take offense and… Kill him in retaliation? That wouldn’t surprise him.

He didn’t want to die here. Not in Megatron’s berthroom, not in this tower, not in Kaon.

He didn’t want to die at all.

It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take and not a price he was willing to pay for the slim chance he could end Megatron. And… Even if he did manage that, what did he expect to happen? He doubted Megatron’s lackeys would be too pleased.

No, there was no way that could’ve ended well for Sideswipe. It wouldn’t end well for him if he didn’t do anything, but at least by not doing anything he had the chances to get out of Megatron’s wing, return to Sunstreaker, and return to their escape plots.

He wouldn’t be able to escape if he was dead.

He still didn’t understand what Megatron was doing, though, but he feared he would learn the answer sooner or later, and that he wouldn’t like it. While Megatron was recharging though… Sideswipe didn’t think he would be catching any recharge himself, not with Megatron there. He didn’t want to let his guard down, even for a moment.

There was no way that would’ve led to anything good.

Sideswipe glanced around him at the spartan room. Megatron had made sure not to leave any datapads behind when he left, and there was nothing more to explore now either. If he even would’ve dared to snoop around while Megatron was recharging a couple of steps away.

So… Now what? He’d escaped interfacing for the time being, but he still didn’t know what the game they were playing was, and he still had absolutely nothing to do.

With a quiet huff Sideswipe backed up until his back hit one of the bleak walls, then carefully slid down it to sit on the floor, pulling his knees back to his chassis.

More waiting. A lot more waiting, listening to the peaceful whirr and rumble of Megatron’s systems. The sounds would’ve been soothing if they’d belonged to someone else, but coming from Megatron they only put Sideswipe on edge and made it impossible to forget where he was. He didn’t want to familiarize himself with the sounds of the tyrant’s recharging frame.

But here he was.

He didn’t full on recharge himself, not for the whole of Megatron’s recharge cycle, but he did enter a light doze like before. Not because he was particularly tired, but just to have something to pass the time with.

They were long, long hours that he anxiously waited for Megatron to awaken, and see what that brought with it. It gave his mind far too much time to work over all the unpleasant things that might await him in his unfortunate future, concoct all sorts of possibilities, each one more terrible than the one before.

And he feared Megatron would live up to all of it, somehow.

How had one mech become the biggest boogeyman he’d ever known?

Megatron woke up no sooner and no later than what suited him. Sideswipe snapped out of his thoughts the moment the sounds of the tyrant’s systems changed and started to ramp up again, signaling his return to full awareness. It was a short process with no time wasted, just the steady climb from recharge to everyday functioning. Soon Megatron was already sitting up and stretching like Sideswipe would’ve expected from any mech.

But it looked so wrong coming from the sadistic dictator that had no right to remind him of the common folk that didn’t go around kidnapping and raping others.

It didn’t take longer than that for Megatron to take notice of him, though, and Sideswipe pressed tighter against the wall at his back when the tyrant’s red gaze zeroed in on him. “Sleep well?” Megatron asked.

Sideswipe’s lips drew back in a snarl.

Megatron didn’t laugh, but it looked like it was a close thing. “Come here and coax it out,” he gave the order once again, patting the berth in invitation.

“Slag you!” Sideswipe growled back at him and decidedly didn’t go over to fragging coax it out.

“Suit yourself,” the tyrant said genteelly before getting up from the berth and leaving the whole room.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Sideswipe was alone all over again.

This didn’t make any damn sense. “Why doesn’t he just…” he murmured to himself, trying to make sense of the mix of emotions his spark was pulsing with. On one hand, relief that he wasn’t getting raped like he’d gotten a lot recently.

But on the other he just… Wanted it over with. It would hurt, and he’d hate it, but afterwards he could return to the harem wing, to Sunstreaker, and hug his brother, and listen to him hear say they’d get out yet.

He didn’t want this waiting. Waiting for Megatron to unleash his cruelty, waiting for the suffering, the pain, the humiliation.

Get it over with.

It’d only hurt for a while. And on the other side… There might just be a moment to gather himself back together before the next time he’d need to survive Megatron’s attentions.

But this?

“Fuck this,” Sideswipe whispered, his servos finding their way to his helmet and cradling it.

---------------------------------------------

Again he sat, and he waited, and again it was such a long, long time before Megatron deemed to return. Sideswipe didn’t even want to count the hours.

“Coax it out.”

He refused.

Megatron didn’t force him.

Megatron sat at his desk, drank his energon, and worked, and Sideswipe sat on the chilly floor, against the wall, and watched him because he had nothing better to do.

Another recharge cycle Megatron slept peacefully on his berth. Sideswipe remained on the floor, tense and anxious, but not as tense and anxious as before.

He hated that. He didn’t want to get used to Megatron’s presence, but his emotions were tiring him to the point of dulling when nothing bad happened.

Another morning, another order, another time he didn’t do as he was told.

Another time Megatron left him alone while he went off to who knew where.

This time Sideswipe got up and went to the door, experimentally testing if it was locked or if he could maybe even get to the lounge on the other side.

But it was locked. He was not only held prisoner in Kaon and the palace, but now in Megatron’s berthroom too.

What did he want? For him to just… Was it all he wanted that Sideswipe would go to him and do as he was told? Was that all?

“Frag off with that,” he muttered as he turned from the door and crawled under the berth, all the way to the center where he could be sure Megatron wouldn’t be able to reach him. He curled up there and tried to get some real recharge in the spell of peace and quiet when Megatron wasn’t present.

And tried to ignore his slowly depleting fuel levels.

------------------------------------------------------

When Megatron returned that night, he halted right at the door, probably because he couldn’t see Sideswipe right away. Sideswipe tensed, but it wasn’t like his spark or energy signatures had gone anywhere. In short order Megatron had fully stepped into the room, walked over to the berth, and crouched down to see under it.

Sideswipe met his optics.

Megatron smiled at him.

Sideswipe growled.

But Megatorn said nothing, and did nothing else, only stood back up and went to his desk. He had energon with him again. Sideswipe could hear the cube hit the desk every so often after Megatron took a drink from it before setting it back down.

And although Sideswipe wasn’t exactly exerting himself, his frame was still using his energon reserves for simple functioning. The decline was slow, but steady.

He wondered if Megatron had any plans to give him fuel.

Probably not.

---------------------------------------------------------

Orns. Straight up orns.

He stayed under the berth stubbornly, ignoring the cold wafting from the floor, barely warmed by the heat of his frame. In fact, putting those two against each other, it was his frame that was cooling rather than the floor warming.

He didn’t move much either, and his cables were getting stiff, but he didn’t dare do anything that would’ve earned Megatron’s attentions. As it was the tyrant only crouched to take a look at him and smile at him right after he returned from spending the day who knew where doing who knew what dictator things. He didn’t say anything and wouldn’t try to get him to come out from under the berth, but Sideswipe knew what was hanging in the air between them despite their silence.

Coax it out.

That was what he was supposed to do. What would happen if he did? Yeah, no doubt there’d be interfacing he wanted absolutely nothing to do with, but… What about after?

Would he get to go back to Sunstreaker?

Primus, but he missed his brother. He was bored out of his mind, but more importantly than that... He just wanted his twin’s embrace and the comfort of a frame near identical to his own, of a spark that was a half of his own.

He could really use a hug right about now, honestly.

Because he didn’t know what to do. Time passed, but Megatron showed no signs of planning to let him leave, or of offering some fuel to him. And his fuel meter, it was lowering to uncomfortable readings. He’d already used up a large portion of his reserves during the orgy, and hadn’t had the time to replenish them.

How far would Megatron let things go? Until he went to stasis?

Would he leave him to rust under his berth? His reward for his determination?

Was it worth it? He wanted to see Sunstreaker again. He wanted to have the chance to leave this hellhole for good. A chance to reclaim his life.

He wouldn’t get that if he became forgotten under a tyrant’s berth.

But what he would need to do to get out of here… Pits. There was no winning. He got to choose between two kinds of damned, that was all.

He wanted Sunstreaker here, so, so badly. He didn’t want to do this alone, be here alone.

Sideswipe curled up tighter as Megatron settled down for another recharge cycle above him. His HUD was blinking a fitful warning at him, beseeching him to fuel soon before he became too weak to do so. Hunger was gnawing at his tanks, near empty by now. He had little more than the energon in his lines, and that was losing charge steadily. It wouldn’t be too long before there wasn’t enough of it there to power his engines.

And if he couldn’t power his engines, he wouldn’t be able to move. Then what?

Best case scenario was that Megatron would have him pulled out from under the berth and refueled, but that would only land him back to square one. This wasn’t even a game of wills anymore, if it ever had been. It didn’t matter how much willpower he had. Even if he had enough, he’d just lose another way.

Inevitable.

His fate was coming for him whether he liked it or not. There was no way out that didn’t involve doing Megatron’s bidding.

When would he give in?

Was it just a matter of time?

He tried to quiet his sob and drew his field in even tighter than it had already been. Megatron didn’t need to know how he was feeling.

He didn’t need to know he was winning.

-----------------------------------------------

Two more orns. He held on for two more orns, cold, lonely, bored out of his fucking mind, but still preferring that to the future he feared.

Despair. The warning on his HUD had gotten upgraded in priority and was nearing critical. Stasis or pleasing Megatron, those were his two options. He couldn’t see any others.

When Megatron came back that night, he crouched at the end of the berth as was usual by now, and Sideswipe met his optics, knowing his own were dimming.

“Are you hungry?” Megatron asked and brought a cube to his view. Sideswipe’s throat constricted at the promise of much needed fuel. His frame demanded him to take it, to avoid being forced into stasis.

Into being completely helpless.

As if he wasn’t that even when his tanks were full.

“You must be,” the tyrant continued with a tone of fake kindness, like he actually gave a damn about Sideswipe’s wellbeing.

He just cared about how he could get Sideswipe to do what he wanted. How to make him like everyone else in that regard.

And it was working. Sideswipe closed his optics and entertained defeat. He wouldn’t last another orn. It was now or never if he didn’t want to choose stasis over Megatron’s clutches.

He just wanted back to Sunstreaker. What was he doing except drawing things out at this point? He couldn’t win. There was no reality where he would get his way and get out of here without going through Megatron first.

Without doing what Megatron wanted of him, first.

He would… He would just have to keep that in mind. He was doing this for Sunstreaker, for their reunion. Not for himself, and definitely not for Megatron.

For Sunstreaker.

He closed his optics tighter. The words hurt when they came out– “What do you want from me?”

–But the approving pulse in Megatron’s field hurt even more.

“Come out and see.”

-------------------------------

( Previous / Next )

#transformers #maccadams #megatron #sideswipe #sunstreaker #starscream #skywarp #harem au #twins #fic #2020

14 notes · View notes

taiblogcomics · 4 years ago

Text

Crossovers Are The Right of All Sentient Beings

Hey there, uncaught refrigerators. Well, I finally got a new shipment in! It's the first new comics I've read since the pandemic hit, and I think we're all in the mood to read something other than terrible Titans reboots and spinoffs, and whatever the fuck you want to call Heroes in Crisis. We need something nice and fun and gentle, so of course we're immediately going back to ponies. But not even just going back to the regular series, that's not good enough for you guys! Nah, let's do something special for our return. Let's do something... transformative~

Here's the cover:

Oh yeah, this is real. After My Little Pony was left out of the Hasbro franchises united in Revolution, they just had to make up for that grievous error. Anyway, Leadership, Friendship. It's some sort of Matrix regardless, I'm sure. After becoming a princess, becoming a Prime is obviously next on Twilight's list. Though I think Pinkie may have beaten her to the punch~

youtube

We begin in Equestria, where Quibble Pants is buying a comic book from a news stand. He sighs in disgust that it's another crossover, and wonders where in continuity he's supposed to place the story. The news-stand operator replies that he thinks it's probably just supposed to be for fun, and I love that sort of meta commentary. It's what us fans really need to keep in mind for things like this. Anyway, it suddenly begins to storm heavily, and Quibble asks for a replacement issue, since being rained on has ruined its value. The cause of the rain is Queen Chrysalis, free once again and with a team of minions. She's using some sort of spell to bolster her army by finding changelings in other dimensions...

Meanwhile, on the planet Cybertron, the Autobots and the Decepticons are embroiled once again in their eternal struggle. In this case, the Decepticons have attacked this faulty space-bridge (the primary long-distance transport in the Transformers universe), and the Autobots know whatever their interest in it is, it can't be good. Shockwave has tapped into some sort of inter-dimensional signal. Before either side can stop him, the signal grabs them and they're teleported away. Grimlock shows up too late to get in on the crossover, alas~

Twilight and a flock of Canterlot guards swoop in to foil Chrysalis' storm-causing plans, but the gateway has already opened. The enormous forms of the Transformers fly through, and are scattered around Equestria. The only two still nearby are Optimus Prime and Bumblebee, and clearly they can't fly. Twilight dashes off to lend aid, leaving Chrysalis alone. Only not quite alone, because she soon encounters Megatron. They both have the same reaction to each other: what are you, and how can you be of use? Ah, it's always nice to see kindred spirits forming a bond~

Optimus tries to contact Windblade, but she's out of range, over at the Wonderbolts' territory. With few other options, Optimus asks Bumblebee to cling to him, so he can shield Bee's body with his own on impact. Fortunately for them, Twilight swoops in. She's impressed with their friendship, and uses a levitation spell to prevent them from dying by fall damage. Their heroic intentions even in the face of death convinces Twilight that they're not what Chrysalis intended, and they agree to work together. Unfortunately, Optimus theorises that they're not the only ones making alliances, and we see Chrysalis riding atop Megatron, who is in a tank alt mode. That's way more impressive than a gun~

Meanwhile, over in Manehattan, Starscream has declared the property around him to be his new kingdom. Rarity and the employees of her boutique are attempting to appease him, mostly to keep him from shooting up the rest of the street. Rarity's not stupid, after all. She can tell it's easier to feed this guy's ego and wait for help to come, rather than attempt to oppose him and risk the lives of everypony around them. Fortunately, they don't have to wait long, because all of a sudden, Arcee drives up and does a flying jumpkick to hit Starscream in the face. Nice~

Arcee fights off Starscream, and he retreats, swearing vengeance. Seems very typical. Arcee then stops to help assess the damage. The pair of them bond over each other's reaction to the event. Arcee admires Rarity's decisions to protect her friends, and Rarity likes how Arcee kicks ass. Though of course Rarity is no stranger to adventures herself, and they both bond even further on the notion that neither of them would get as far without their friends to rely on. And now the pair of them have become friends too.

Just in time as well, it seems, because here comes that returning vengeance Starscream promised. He's also got Thundercracker and Skywarp as backup, so it's definitely threatening. Arcee tells Rarity to take cover, but there's no cover for herself. Rarity won't accept that, and instead uses her magic to conjur up a diamond-like wall to protect Arcee as she shoots down Thundercracker. Using the distraction from Arcee's shots, Rarity then uses the large bolt of cloth that Starscream was using as a cape to tangle the two remaining Decepticons together. Skywarp warps out, true to the name, and Starscream just flies over the horizon and crashes. That's a victory for the two new friends~

This crossover is definitely a lot of light-hearted fun, so I encourage you to seek it out if you’re a fan of at least one of thse franchises--better still if you like both. I predict the remaining issues will also follow this pattern: a leading story with Twilight and Optimus fighting Chrysalis and Megatron, while the second half of the comic will be a backup each featuring a different teamup pairing. I’m definitely looking forward to future issues to see how it all plays out~

#comics #reviews #My Little Pony/Transformers #Taiblog

5 notes · View notes

demonsdaughtertf · 8 years ago

Text

Starscream was up to his usual tricks again. Megatron often wondered why he kept the little menace around, so often coming close to ending his pathetic little existence. And yet he never truly murdered him. Sure, he brought him close to death and made sure his punishments were brutal, but the warlord had always found enough control to hold back.

But he was being tested for a second time that week, Starscream up to his usual antics. He was desperate to become leader, the silver gun-former snarling at that. Starscream couldn’t lead ants to a picnic if he tried, let alone command an entire army.

The brute took a seat in his command chair, knitting his digits together before settling his chin on them. He gazed out into the depths of the ocean just outside his sunken starship, a frown etched into his stern faceplate. How was he supposed to destroy the Autobots when they were underwater and even more disorganized than usual? Soundwave was doing his best to stop everyone from getting out of control, but he and Megatron were two against a good hundred or so.

Megatron grit his dentas when he heard a crash somewhere outside his command room, a shout from Skywarp going up about how ‘that wasn’t fair’ while Rumble and Frenzy laughed about some idiotic prank they had pulled. The silver mech’s mood deteriorated fast after that, getting a com from Onslaught that Vortex had gotten his leg stuck in a sliding door for frags sake and later Ramjet apparently knocked himself out stacking energon crates.

“Imbeciles,” he hissed, trying to work on a report for Shockwave who still remained on Cybertron.

@cha0s-and-guns

5 notes · View notes

robotnik-mun · 8 years ago

Text

TaleSpin/Transformers crossover pitch/concept

Here’s the pitch/initial concept for the TaleSpin/Transformers crossover. Credit goes to Prowl-Mun for the original crossover idea between TaleSpin and Transformers! Credit also goes for the titles!

Now for the Ninja Kasuga pitch on this lovely concept:

TaleSpin/Transformers:

Wings of Freedom (Or Wings of Change)

Where to begin? First up for a change up; the Ark-bots are NOT the introduction Transformers; in fact they’re still MISSING and the starter Transformers have come to Earth as this is where the Ark and Nemesis’ trail ends. Powerglide lands near Louie’s and skulks around until he spies an aircraft of the right size to assume an alt-form which happens to be the Seaduck. After scanning the plane, he ends up replacing it after a freak accident with the fuel pump by one of Louie’s new attendants, well blows up the original plane; and the Autobot quickly does a switcheroo after scuttling the flaming hulk out of the lagoon and into the deeper ocean off the island. As far as Baloo, and Kit are concerned they got lucky after Louie’s attendant came screaming into the bar that he blew up the plane; and the attendant is lucky he still has a job but will see three months of his wages halved to buy a new pump and to replace the dock. (Before anyone asks, there wasn’t any cargo on the Seaduck so there wasn’t any lack of it to raise eyebrows; but Baloo would end up wondering where the heck his emergency sandwiches and soda pop went.)

This coincidence becomes rather fortuitous for the Autobot air scout as Higher for Hire ends up taking a job with cargo intended for the Cape Suzette museum that includes an unearthed Cybertronian artifacts as well as passenger Katie Dodd who led the uncovering of said artifacts. As usual the Air Pirates make an appearance to try and loot the cargo. However both they and the ‘Seaduck’s’ crew are surprised by the planes improved performance, and at times; it seems to react faster than Baloo can pilot it. After the pirates beat feet, Baloo and Co. head back and soon as they dock he asks Wildcat to check his precious plane out but nothing comes of the check up aside from Wildcat giving the ‘Seaduck’ a high grade on her maintenance. Meanwhile Katie takes her discoveries to the museum and Rebecca is in a good mood due to the on time delivery, and the generous payday.

During the night Kit wakes up to hearing a strange sound and upon looking out the window sees the seaplane is missing and informs Baloo who promptly flips out and calls Rebecca and the Cops. Meanwhile Powerglide makes his way to the museum but almost being caught a few times disrupts his attempts at stealth. Suddenly motorcycle rolls up to him but instead of being caught to his relief it’s fellow Autobot Arcee who gives him a little chewing out, before resuming genuine pleasantries at finding another Cybertronian in the city. The two discuss their current investigations with Arcee dropping hints other Autobots are in the city or making their way here, but everyone’s still pretty spread out and there’s been no clues about the whereabouts of the Ark, sans the recently recovered artifacts. Arcee being slightly smaller if just slimmer and lacking Powerglide’s plane bits manages to sneak in to examine the artifacts but aside from a busted datalog, and some unknown refractor crystal, the rest is just scrap; putting them at square one unless they can fix the datalog.

With Arcee’s help Powerglide arranges to be ‘found’ floating near a pier by the Cops; who’re baffled by how the plane wound up where it was given there was no signs of being hot-wired; especially since the keys were still in Rebecca’s locked desk drawer. However the plane is returned, no damage, nothing else was stolen so Rebecca is fine along with the Cops to write it off as hoodlums playing a prank. Kit remains suspicious as the strange noises he heard were NOT the norm but he keeps this to himself for now.

While this is going on, a Decepticon scout ship lands on a deserted island. Led by Starscream and his Seekers, the mission is to find the Nemesis, but Starscream is more inclined to see if the planet is exploitable for his own ends. As for why Starscream isn’t on the Nemesis; he was ejected during the Spacebridge collapse along with Soundwave, Thundercracker and Skywarp. They were found by their current shipmates (Thrust, Dirge, Ramjet, and a few other misc Cons) and began pursuing the two starships across the cosmos. While Soundwave continues the true mission to find Megatron and the Nemesis; Starscream takes to observing the planet and seeing aerial dominance and its growing influence; he takes it as a sign this world is ‘perfect’ to be conquered and made his own fiefdom. After all Megatron can have the rest of the galaxy… for now.

Eventually Powerglide is forced to reveal himself to Baloo, Kit and Rebecca and after dealing with some fainting, screaming and yelling (especially when Baloo discovers the real Seaduck is scuttled slag at the bottom of the ocean off the coast of Louie’s); a pact is formed as Powerglide offers to continue being their ‘cargo plane’ while he and his fellow Autobots look for the whereabouts of the Ark. To butter the deal to Rebecca’s liking, Powerglide convinces some of his friends to ‘help’ Higher for Hire in ways to expand the company’s abilities. Such as newly arrived HotRod getting a fancy sportscar alt-mode to be used as Higher for Hire’s ‘business car’, and Bulkhead as a freighter truck allowing Higher for Hire to do land based deliveries within the city. Arcee remains a ‘free agent’ scout to explore the city and tap into the police radio band. Katie who also is on the secret and excited to get to know actual life-forms from another world; offers to try and find more artifacts and let the Bots have carte blanche to eyeball any new discoveries that could help them with their mission. To that end she has Kup and Hoist join her since Kup’s long history of exploring the galaxy since the exodus from Cybertron and Hoist having assumed the alt-mode of a drilling truck.

From here a menagerie of shenanigans begin as the Autobots and TaleSpin plots coincide until the first run-in with the Seekers happen and things get more serious as more Bots from each side start to trickle to Earth.

From there, the sky’s the limit so to speak. I personally think keeping Megatron, many of the other Con heavies, Optimus and most of the main Ark Autobots offscreen will allow for keeping the story from getting too heavy too fast. Megs and Prime both have a heavy presence as do many of the ‘veteran’ Bots n’ Cons. Allowing Starscream to be the ‘starting villain’ as opposed to lesser known Decepticons is mainly due to the Seekers plane alt-modes fit the setting and as we all know, Screamers own ego makes him his own worst enemy and derides his ability to be as fearsome as Megatron…most of the time.

And that about does it for this initial ‘pitch/concept’. Aside from some start up stuff; I kept future plot ideas vague as well; that’d take a looong time to lay out and it’s fun to see what others come up with in conjunction to one’s own ideas. ^^

Finally got around to this, and I got to say that this is a pretty solid premise you got going on. I particularly like the touch of leaving out most of the Heavy Hitters to focus on some of the more second tier Autobots and Decepticons. It feels rather fitting, especially given the setting.

So yeah, what can I say? Two Thumbs Up!

#Transformers #Talespin #Crossover #submission

9 notes · View notes

keaalu · 7 years ago

Text

Remember Me, chapter four

Title (chapter): Remember Me (04)

Series: Transformers, G1-based “Blue” AU

Rating: PG-13

Notes: In which Slipstream realises just how big this thing might be that he and Dash are caught up in, and Starscream finally gets back from New Vos to a hostile welcome.

-------------------------

The command centre on Nemesis was every bit as sickly purple and ostentatiously oversized as Slipstream remembered it.

He didn’t remember ever seeing it from this angle, though.

“Show proper respect to your new master, scum!”

The shove to one shoulder made him stumble and fall to his knees. Before he could recover, scramble clumsily back to his feet, something heavy – and hot; someone’s thruster? – pressed down on the back of his neck, forced him to bow his helm.

Slipstream snarled in pain and bucked, trying to squirm his way out, but the bigger mech just kept increasing the pressure on the back of his neck until he was almost crushed flat to the floor. Ultimately it hurt too much to keep struggling, and he went limp. The scorching weight on the back of his neck disappeared.

“Good boy,” a condescending voice cooed, close to his helm. Felt like Dirge. “Keep this up, and maybe we won’t feel forced to use you as target practice… quite so much.”

The ripple of unkind laughter which simmered through the crowd was quickly replaced by a weirdly expectant lull, broken only by the sound of mechs jockeying for position, and the sound of approaching footsteps.

A new voice spoke up, somewhere just above and in front. “I should admit to being impressed, Ramjet. Your trine have actually done well, for a change.”

Well, there was no mistaking those gravelly tones. Suddenly, Slipstream didn’t really want to get up, any more.

“Thank you, mighty Megatron. It is an honour to serve!”

There were jeers from the rest of the assembly. An honour to serve! Get up off your belly, Ramjet; who’d you think you are; Screamer? Yeah, well done for kidnapping a sparkling.

Someone caught a hand under Slipstream’s shoulder and hauled him upright. He had to work hard to restrain a flinch.

Barely an arm’s length away, Megatron sat scrutinising him – elbows propped on his knees, leaning down towards him. The warlord looked good; not the scruffy, half-starved bundle of desperation the youngster had expected, from the disparaging way his family had taken to describing him. Poor Megatron, stuck on the wrong side of the spacebridge, squabbling with Autobots.

No, the mech sitting staring down on him looked clean and capable, well-oiled and powerful. Every inch the nightmare that could flatten everything on Cybertron, if he wanted.

“Slipstream,” he said, at last. “Considerably larger than last time we met.”

Slipstream didn’t recognise his own voice – thin and fracturing. “Yes, sir.”

Didn’t hurt to be polite, even if you did feel like purging a tank, right?

“I did expect more from you,” the old warlord finally said, at last, relaxing back in his chair. “As a sparkling, I could see the potential in you. A small mirror of your sire, who had been loyal to me for a very long time. With a little…” He wafted a hand. “…coaching, in the right direction? A little reminder of why this was the only faction that would ever truly understand you? The two of you could have been valuable assets in my campaign.” He elaborated a sigh. “Instead, I see just another unimaginative, whining Autobot, with the lack of ambition that comes as standard.”

Slipstream bristled. The words might have still been faint, but they were out before he got the chance to evaluate whether they were actually sensible to say; “I don’t think I asked for your approval.”

The blow came out of nowhere – an almighty, needlessly violent kick to the head, it sent him skidding across the deck. He fetched up against someone’s legs, puffing softly in alarm.

The bellow chased him across the floor; “Watch your manners, dirtcrawler!” Only just able to pick up the words through a haze of distortions, he wasn’t even sure who was yelling. The owner of the legs used their feet to hustle him back to the centre of the room.

He could feel a trickle of… something… begin to ooze down from his temple. His diagnostics couldn’t make up their mind on what they thought it was. He hoped it was only energon.

Megatron watched with a smirk. “Please don’t kill our guest before we’ve had the chance to make use of him.”

Dirge chose his moment perfectly. “Don’t worry, sir. If that one gets broken, we just use the spare.”

When the blue jet didn’t immediately elaborate, Megatron lifted his head briefly off his hand, and waved his fingers, impatiently. “Go on.”

Dirge waited until he was sure every optic was on him before opening his cockpit and extracting something small. He strode through the centre of the mass and with a flourish, placed it into Megatron’s hands. “First-instar sparkling,” he said, for the benefit of anyone without optics.

“Well this is very interesting,” Megatron purred, holding the small body up in front of his face; Skydash curled up, facing away from him, hugging her knees. “Dirge, I am very impressed.”

Dirge preened at the praise, thumbing his nose at the jeers from his comrades. “Thank you, sir.”

“Now. Where did you come from, I wonder.”

“Well, the little superstar here…” Dirge gave Slipstream a little shove and knocked him sideways, “was meant to be looking after it. Wasn’t counting on us coming along to spoil his orn, I guess.” He snorted and waited for Slipstream to wobble back to his knees before pushing him back over. “I figure they were so disappointed with their first effort – I’d be disappointed; I mean, not only a dirtcrawler, but an Autobot, too? – they decided to try again? That or Skywarp just never understood the concept of protection.”

“Always disappoints me when I realise you might be right. There’s grounder in it, again,” the warlord said, disappointedly. “Just can’t keep from polluting his code, can he? I can’t tell if it’s desperation leading to this lack of standards, or he’s just that easily swayed by a pretty face.”

Thrust leaned closer to his wingmate. “Does this mean you’re gonna lay off with the Primusawful Pit-screech, now?”

Dirge flattened his hand over his wingmate’s face and gave him a shove. “That’s one noisy little scrap of tin. Next time, you can try flying with it caterwauling in your cockpit.”

“She’s not caterwauling. She’s scared,” Slipstream spoke up, quietly. “I’m surprised a bunch of cowards like you don’t understand that. She’s had no part in your squabble, leave her out of it.”

“Did you forget the part we’re at war, you worthless nonentity?” Dirge closed a fist on the antennae spreading from the right of Slipstream’s helm, and dragged him halfway up off the floor. Slipstream squeaked in pain and scrambled to get his feet underneath himself. “That makes everybody fair game.”

Thrust folded his arms and glared. “Good going there, scrappy. He was almost in a good mood, there. Now I’m gonna have to put up with him sulking all night.”

Megatron set the sparkling down on the arm of his chair; Skydash stayed huddled in the smallest ball she could manage, but looked too scared to try and escape. “Oh, I have a very specific reason for wanting you, Slipstream. I’m not going to make either of you fight.” He propped his chin back on his hand. “No, there’s one thing I know I can always get from your kind of pathetic, snivelling coward. You make excellent bait.”

Slipstream stiffened. A very large penny had apparently dropped.

“I know your, ah… family… will feel obliged to rescue you. Starscream won’t be able to resist the urge to try and show me up. Skywarp won’t be slow to follow, since he doesn’t have the brainpower for anything else. As for Thundercracker, well, when has that ditherer ever made a decision on his own, hmm?” Megatron sighed and shook his head, as though in regret. “But when I have finally destroyed all three traitors, in full view of the watching planet, no power in this universe will be able to stop me taking back what is mine.” His lips curved into a smirk. “It was so kind of that fool Starscream to do all the work for me, even if ultimately all he has created is another bloated, stagnating Autocracy. Waiting for me to step in and develop it to its true capacity.”

“They won’t come here. They’ll know it’s a trap. They’re not stupid!”

Megatron actually snorted. “If thousands of vorns of war has taught me one thing I can rely on with absolute certainty? It’s that your sire is most definitely stupid.” He gave the smaller mech a flat look. “Disappointing that it appears to run in the family.”

* * *

Starscream made remarkably good time back from New Vos, but didn’t appear to have the most appropriate target for his frustration in mind, as evidenced by the raging scarlet ball of temper that appeared in the empty infirmary doorway, wings hiked high on its back. “Remind me why I seem to be the last person to find anything out, around here?!”

“Excuse me?” Skywarp rounded on him so fast, Starscream actually flinched a step or two backwards. “I told you within a handful of breems of finding out for myself. You shut me down, saying I didn’t understand how important what you’re doing out in Vos is. Now you’ve apparently decided I wasn’t being a total moron for interrupting you, I should have told you faster?!”

Starscream puffed himself up, trying to avoid the need to admit Skywarp’s unexpected pushback had made him jump. “You know that wasn’t what I meant.”

“No? Educate me.” Skywarp leaned in. Their faces were almost touching. “What did you mean.”

A soft, fracturing voice broke through in the brief silence. “Guys… please?”

With one final glare at each other, they turned to find Thundercracker perched on the edge of the empty berth, looking surprisingly small and sick, helm propped in both hands, wings drooping.

“You’re both being kinda loud right now. I think this is gonna turn into a migraine and I really don’t want to be laid up for five orns, again.” He drew in a long stabilising sigh of cold air and shuddered, wingtips trembling. “I haven’t even started to think what I’m gonna tell Lara.”

“Primus, dude.” Skywarp leaned down and bumped cheeks, briefly. “I’m sorry. Lemme find you a cold pack or something.”

“That’d be good. Thank you…”

The medical supplies in the adjoining office weren’t strictly for machines to help themselves to, but most staff had learned that Skywarp wasn’t the sort to be put off by rules and regulations, and making things hard to obtain just increased the likelihood that he’d make an unholy mess while searching. Thundercracker’s personal supply of icepacks were in a small easily-accessible chiller just inside the doorway; his ‘migraines’ were thankfully infrequent, but fairly infamous as well, and having an icepack on hand sometimes made the difference between it lasting one orn, or six. And him being able to still see.

Skywarp helped himself to two, and waved a threatening finger under the nose of the mech that had followed him into the office. “Don’t. Even start.”

Starscream put his hands up in defeat. “I wasn’t going to. I’m sorry, all right?”

Skywarp grumbled wordlessly through his vents, but appeared somewhat mollified. “What then?”

“I was going to say, once we’ve got TC comfortable, maybe we should go home.” Something dark passed through the smouldering scarlet optics. “Someone wants our attention. I don’t feel inclined to keep him waiting.”

#remember me #blue au #sbm4 #starscream #skywarp #megatron #transformers #slipstream #skydash #thrust #dirge

1 note · View note

keaalu · 7 years ago

Text

Aviation ’Flu

(The other day, I caught a cold. I’ve been lucky and not had a bad one in years, so I suppose it was due. On the bus on the way home, Skywarp came out in sympathy. Misery loves company?

“Aviation Flu” is courtesy of a colleague who accidentally called avian flu that a few times; I used to like to wonder if it was what you caught if you worked with aeroplanes? But actually, maybe it’s what you catch if you are an aeroplane.)

-------

It was obvious from the moment Pulsar came online, to find her Seeker venting excessively warm air and with pumps that seemed to be buzzing, that Skywarp wasn’t in particularly good health, that orn.

“Warp?” She pushed herself upright and leaned over his chassis, propping herself on one arm. “Is everything all right?” She waved a hand in front of his face, then gently patted his cheek. “Hey in there. Skywarp?”

His optics came online much more slowly than she was familiar with, and he stared murkily through her for several seconds before managing to focus. “…uuh?”

“How are you feeling?”

“…uuh.” He lifted a shaky hand and passed it over his face. His voice crackled with more clicky static than should have been normal for bootup distortions. “G’roff, Squeaks. Too hot in here.”

Pulsar hastily scrambled off his wing, so he could sit up – or at least attempt to. He swung one leg over the edge of the mattress and boosted himself partially upright with shaky arms before apparently running out of oomph; she caught one hand and dragged him the rest of the way.

For several seconds, he looked like he was going to continue on and tip all the way over in the wrong direction, but (with a little alarmed help from his bike) finally managed to curtail his forwards momentum before falling clean off the berth.

For a few seconds, Pulsar just watched and waited. Skywarp… didn’t look good, at all. He might not have ever been the most graceful of Seekers, but right now he looked obscenely heavy and slumping, wings sagging, head drooping as though it were too much effort to keep it up. Definitely sick.

She stepped closer, so he could sense her static envelope, and caught his dangling hands in both of her own. “I don’t think you should be going to work today.”

He stared through her for a few seconds more, then offered a meaningless grunt and let his head plop down on her shoulder; she staggered briefly under the unexpected weight and had to push extra charge to her wobbly knees to hold her upright.

“You’re really not processing things very well, are you, spark?” She brought one small hand up and stroked the side of his helm.

“Feel slow,” he agreed, at last, in clicky, almost staticky tones. “N’rough. Head’urts.”

Everything seemed to be running with a lag. Things that should have happened instantly took distinct seconds.

She knew it was pretty obvious, but she said it anyway; “I think you might have caught a virus off someone.”

“Mmh.” He shifted subtly, so his helm could rest better on her shoulder, and folded his arms loosely around her. “Prob’ly. Firewall’s like slag.”

It felt like given half the chance, he’d have drifted back into dormancy like that, using her as a support. Heat radiated off him; she could hear his fans wallowing slowly in his chassis, like they’d never been oiled. No wonder he felt so hot.

“Stay like this, huh?” he mumbled into her enamel, confirming her guess. “Nice. Cool.”

“No-o, we can’t stay like this. I’ll eventually fall down, then you’ll squash me, and then we’ll both need a doctor.” She manoeuvred him backwards. “Come on. Let’s get you cooled off.”

She encouraged him to lay back down – not that he needed much encouraging, flopping back hard enough that she felt the impact through the floor – then directed the air conditioning at him, turning it down as cold as it would go.

Skywarp made a little noise of relief and leaned in towards the chilly blast.

Leaving the dark jet to continue his incoherent praise of the gods of air-con, Pulsar headed downstairs, quietly cursing whichever inconsiderate fragger had managed to upload the virus. And Skywarp for slacking off on getting his firewalls patched.

Thundercracker – thank Primus for small mercies – looked fine. He sat quietly reading the morning news, the remains of a flask of energon by his hand, almost ready to head out for work.

Well, at least that was one less person to have to worry about. She ducked under the wall of blue wing and went straight to the big chiller cabinet next to the main energon dispenser.

Thundercracker picked up on her sour mood almost immediately – frag, the whole house could probably feel the irritation simmering in her electric field.

“I won’t say good morning, because it feels like it might not be?” he said.

She ignored the implied how are you. “What’s the lowest grade refined fuel we have in stock?”

Bemusedly, Thundercracker watched her ferret through the assorted cubes and canisters in the chiller. “I think we may still have a little of the SuperLight we got for Dash, for when she was big enough to start taking fuel instead of relying on just an outside power source. Why?”

“Because some useless fragging pitglitch-…” She reined in the invective and covered her eyes briefly with one hand. “Skywarp’s come down with a virus of some kind. He needs something simple, that won’t tax his systems.” She found a handful of small cans hidden in the back of the cabinet, and scrutinised one’s label for a second. “This should work. I can’t be dealing with cleaning up if he purges a tank.”

Thundercracker straightened, concerned and ever-so-slightly peeved. “He told me his firewall was up to date.”

“So Skywarp’s full of slag; who knew?” Pulsar shrugged elaborately and gathered up as many of the small cans as she could carry. “Where’d we put the cooling blankets?”

“Not sure. Far as I know, Footloose had them last?”

Pulsar cast her gaze to the heavens and vented a small curse at her untidy offspring. “So, treasure hunt then. Great.”

“Let me finish this, and I’ll help you look. Maybe I should see if Panacea will be able to pay a visit later.”

She snorted. “I think he’s past the point where a psychiatrist can help him.”

Thundercracker found a small smile. “Maybe. She’s still a doctor, though. I’ll give her a call.”

By now, Starscream had picked up on the increasingly irritable field saturating the building, and appeared in the doorway. He watched as Pulsar slipped past him, barely even needing to duck her head to get under his wings. “All the SuperLight?” he challenged.

She didn’t respond, disappearing into the lift.

He looked instead at his wingmate. “What’s wrong with her?”

Thundercracker covered his face with both hands and vented a long suffering sigh. “Oh, nothing. Only the little matter of a virus apparently going around on the station mainframe, that nobody seems to have informed me of? Which Skywarp has apparently picked up and is now incapable of working for at least an orn, and I have to find cover for him somehow?”

Starscream helped himself to a cube from the dispenser and slipped into the chair alongside him. “Oh, that. Yes, I had to ground Skyshout yesterday. I didn’t want to see what would happen if one of her parts broke formation with the rest while she was airborne.”

Thundercracker remained silent while he processed the words. “So… you knew about it, and just… didn’t bother telling me?” he managed, at last. “Or Warp?”

There was that sort of… very long, guilty pause that Thundercracker had become expert in spotting – the sort that usually preceded a storm of protests about how it wasn’t his fault that the rest of the universe was incompetent and if people just did what they were told, it would all work perfectly.

This time, Starscream just pursed his lips and slid a sidelong glance in his wingmate’s direction. “…ah. Possibly?”

Thundercracker gave him a shove and muttered something hideous. “Pit sake, Screamer. Some days I wonder if you and Warp were forged from the same badly smelted piece of old slag, because neither of you are normal.”

Starscream straightened, indignant. “I was trying to save you from worrying, because I know that’s what you do best. I checked the server logs, you’d already been online and gone home. And when does Warp ever bother linking up to actually upload anything?”

“And what about everybody else? You already admitted that Skyshout has it, how many others am I going to find out have come down sick since the night shift?” Thundercracker despaired. “I’m probably going to have to quarantine half my officers and somehow still find enough cover to run an effective service.” He stood up, sending the chair clattering away behind him. “So thank you. I know what I’m going to spend most of the orn doing, and it probably isn’t being an effective superintendent!”

“…I’m sorry?” The nonapology followed him out of the room.

Thundercracker dedicated a breem or two to speaking to first Panacea, who happily agreed to visit, and then to his deputy, to find out precisely what chaos awaited him when he finally made it in to the station. It wasn’t actually as bad as he’d feared, seeing how Skyshout had obediently gone home and made absolutely sure that everyone in her dorm – not just her room, but the whole damn building – knew she was sick and needed sympathy. Disease control techs were already on site, working on isolating the malicious code.

Satisfied the world wasn’t about to implode without him taking immediate personal charge of the disaster, he headed upstairs to check on his wingmate.

Skywarp watched him come in – well, kind of – from surly maroon optics that probably couldn’t actually discern anything except a big blue blur against the pale blurs of the wall, and commed a greeting that was completely incomprehensible. He lay sprawled over as much of the berth as possible, presenting as big a surface area as he could to the cold air coming from the air vents. His fans still hiccuped and hitched, but he looked… well, vaguely comfortable. Mostly offline, completely motionless, and obviously sick, but not completely mortally ill, either.

Pulsar had apparently given up in her search for the elusive coolant mantle. She knelt on the floor at the end of the berth, shoulders close to where Skywarp’s hand dangled over the edge, apparently having been trying to cannibalise a set of coolant fans, but hadn’t been having much success if all the clipped bits of wire scattered across the floor were anything to go by. She sat glaring tiredly at the mess, hands in her lap, a scuffed pair of old pliers held loosely in her fingertips.

As Thundercracker approached, she stirred and glanced hazily up at him. He sank to one knee beside her. “Don’t tell me you’re coming down with it as well.”

She half-smiled. “I think I’m safe. The only thing Warp and I shared in the last few orns has been the berth.” She vented a small sigh and glanced at the slack features of her sick jet. “D’you think they’ll manage without me, today?”

“Sure. Nightsun has everything under control.” Thundercracker brushed his fingers lightly over her antennae, and felt her lean in to his hand. “I thought I better come see if you needed help with the malingerer before I left. I just didn’t think I’d get here to find you taking the house apart.”

The bike made an incoherent little noise of frustration, muttered something that sounded like can’t even do something as basic as link a few slagging fans together, and cast the pliers down into the mess of wire clippings. “Footloose better find that coolant mantle or I’m going to end up destroying more than just the air conditioning,” she warned.

“Well, that’s one good thing about all the little Skywarps in the family; they always know exactly where things are. If she hasn’t still got it, I’ll send one of your sibs over with one from work.”

“…thanks.” Pulsar settled back against the mattress and felt Skywarp’s fingers drift onto her shoulder; she put up her own hand to cover his.

“Failing that, I’ll bring you a cool pack. Having a personal chiller full of them does have some perks.”

“Are you implying looking after Skywarp is going to give me a migraine?”

“I’m implying, you need all the help you can get…!”

#skywarp #thundercracker #pulsar #starscream #blue au #ficlet #aviation flu

0 notes