Watching G1, season 3 Thief in the night and excuse me did Octane just called Trypticon, Tryptababe? (I could've misheard and it could've been Tryptabrain but I swear I heard two b's) and the episode seems to be about Octane getting Typticon back to health (to use him to overthrow Galvatron but still, nursing Typticon is a lot of effort usually unseen by decepticon)
I ship it
More evidence, Octane tells Typticon to eat an energon cube and be careful not to harm his joint components or strain them and tells him 'Atta boy' when he picks up a whole building
"we'll be the leaders of the decepticons, partners forever" and I genuinely think he means it not a scheming conniving trick, I genuinely think Octane intends to maintain an equal partnership here, and Typticon agrees, "strong partners forever"
Also earlier Octane explains the reason they're in the place they are is because it's a better climate for his recovery and is actively telling him like hey don't strain yourself you haven't completed your recovery yet, literally looking out for him reprimanding him for jeopardising his recovery
It takes one thousand barrels of oil to produce 1 energon cube and Typticon eats 50 of them an hour, so Octane is processing upwards of 2400 barrels of oil a day for Typticons recovery and survival and even argues when Trypticon is put on a ration of 1 thousand barrels of oil a day that he'd starve followed by "we'd both starve" but his main first concern was Typticon
Galvatron calls Octane a traitor for taking Typticon but he's like no no I'm not see I found us this strong energon, and Typticon literally knows Octanes plan to overthrow Galvatron and says nothing! Just encourages Galvatron to try the energon, intentional or not he covers Octanes ass
Finally finished collecting the G1 triple-changers!
The Octane I got is pretty nasty. He's got this orange-brown stuff on him and he smells a bit like nicotine, but I knew he was in rough shape when I bought him. He's also my cheapest toy to date, only being around $17
Blitzwing was well aware of just how good a fuel finder Octane could be when he wanted (and needed) to be. Octane was the one mech he always went to just for that reason whenever the slim pi kind from the communal fuel jugs and his own measly rations didn’t cut it for him and his massive, bottomless pit of an appetite. Octane, of course, knew this as well as Blitzwing, because Blitzwing was shameless about demanding what he wanted when he wanted it.
It was kind of funny in a way. It was endearing, too, and pitiful in a sense that Octane had never imagined seeing Blitzwing in such a light until now. Blitzwing couldn’t just snatch the fuel from his servos, after all. He had to learn how to ask for it, and when he asked for it, he had to learn how to be polite. It was the one way Octane could finally take control over a situation for himself, and every time Blitzwing came crawling back to on his hands and knees with his belly rumbling and his voice a shrill, whining ring in Octane’s audials, it made him more and more eager to see the dynamic between them continue.
Like clockwork, only hours after the latest adjustment to their fuel rations and the allotted amount of energon allowed to be taken by each and ever member of the Decepticon faction, Blitzwing was back at Octane’s door again, his massive fists pounding futilely against the locked door as he cried out on the other side and begged for Octane to let him in.
Octane knew exactly what his fellow triple-changer was there for before he had even clicked the button and let the doors swish open. He didn’t even turn when he heard the sound of Blitzwing’s hefty frame crashing to the floor behind him, and he didn’t react when the sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air as Blitzwing crawled forward on his knees, inching closer and closer to the edge of Octane’s berth with sounds that became increasingly desperate.
“Octane,” the big triple-changer whined, his usual cackling bravado nowhere to be seen as he stared up at Octane with those big, wet optics. “Octane… you heard Megatron’s announcement? Didn’t you?”
Octane nodded curtly before turning on his berth and kicking out his pedes. Blitzwing was sat just past them, but if he stretched his toe forward just a little more, he would have made contact with the tip of Blitzwing’s knees.
“I have,” Octane said as he crossed his arms and smiled down at the pitiful pool of a triple-changer moping below him. “What is it that you need, Blitzwing? You know I’m very busy.”
Busy charting energon resources he had yet to lead Megatron to, busy tapping into fuel veins in deep, dark crevices only he knew existed… Blitzwing knew exactly what he was busy with, but the specifics were beyond him. He just knew that Octane had fuel, Octane could give him fuel, and Octane would provide him fuel—for a price, of course.
“I’m starving here, Octane,” Blitzwing moaned, his arm thrown over his face as he tilted his helm back in a dramatic show. “I need more fuel. My tanks feel so empty as it is!”
“Haven’t I already lent you a good portion of my resources already?” Octane asked with a raise of his brow. “That was just the other day, too. What happened to that?”
“You know I’m a big mech,” Blitzwing argued back, his face suddenly flashing with angry indignation. “That stuffing session was days ago. I’ve already burned off all of the excess energon stored from it by simply transforming on the battlefield!”
Octane clicked his tongue and made a soft sound of consideration. It was true; for some reason or another, Blitzwing required ridiculous amounts of fuel compared to the rest of the triple-changers in the Decepticon faction.
He wasn’t about to argue with that. He also wasn’t going to deny the fact, nor was he going to deny Blitzwing what he wanted in the end, but first… he needed a proper request.
“You know I’ll feed you,” Octane said, kicking out a pede to nudge at Blitzwing’s thigh, “but I won’t feed you until you stop that groveling and get up here on the berth like a good mech.”
Then, because he couldn’t resist a little insult to injury, he stood up, stepped aside to make room for Blitzwing to crawl onto the berth and take his place, and pointed.
“Now get up there,” he said. “Get up off of the floor and get into position… and beg, Blitzwing. You know I don’t like it when you start demanding I give up my own precious for you just because you’re feeling a little hungry.”
It worked like a charm. Blitzwing was scrambling to jump up onto the berth and stretching himself within seconds, his servos resting atop his massive midsection and his expression soft. He stared up at Octane with that same, pitiful gaze, and he pouted, his lower lip sticking out as he waited for Octane to move.
“Please, Octane,” he whined. “Please, would you let me have some of your fuel? I’m so, so hungry… I don’t think I’ll last without it.”
It was a little rusty as far as proper begging went, but Octane would take it. He was already feeling far too giddy about stuffing Blitzwing up himself to bother putting it off any longer.
“Fine,” he said, already moving to pull the assortment of fine, filtered energon stored under his berth out and into the open, “but only because you asked so nicely.”
Blitzwing’s tanks were multiple and seemingly bottomless, which meant all the fuel Octane had managed to keep stored in his quarters went right to filling up the triple-changer’s belly. He hardly minded, though. Watching Blitzwing’s face melt into a look of utter bliss as his belly expanded with every cube Octane forced him to drink down made it all worth it in the end, and while he got to enjoy seeing Blitzwing sag against his berth in a heaping puddle of ridiculous sounds and unintelligible thanks, Octane was rewarded with teasing him for it the whole entire time.
Blitzwing squirmed as Octane prodded his belly, the squishy mesh growing taut as his overestimated appetite was satisfied quickly… and then some. He whined as Octane held up one cube after another and pushed it against his lips, never moving away until Blitzwing had managed to guzzle it all down and lapped up every last drop.
“Look at you,” Octane teased, one servo pinching the folds of Blitzwing’s belly while the other servo reached for the next cube. “You get so needy when it comes to being fed, Blitz. It would be adorable if you weren’t so pathetic about it.”
And even then, in its own unique way, it was pretty adorable to see. Nothing ever made Blitzwing as happy as getting stuffed beyond his limits and forced to drink up every last cube in Octane’s limited personal stock, and Octane loved to see it.
He gave Blitzwing’s belly a tender smack before stroking his servo over the expanse of mesh stretched out against stuffed, swollen tanks packed full inside, then reached for the last cube in his box of fuel to bring back up to Blitzwing’s lips.
“Drink up, you glutton,” Octane whispered. “You’ve made it this far. Finish off what you’ve begun.”
Happily, eagerly, and desperately, Blitzwing obliged, and Octane savored every last second of watching the big triple-changer indulge in one of their favored shared pastimes—stuffing Blitzwing to the brim whenever the regular cubes of fuel he got just weren’t enough to satisfy his massive appetite.
