Senator Soundwave and cassettes in childcare (or lack thereof) hell.
I'm trying something new... the comic strip will be posted tomorrow--- Stay tuned!
-----------------------------------------‐--‐------------------------------------------------------
Title: Soundwave: Signals of a Working Dad
( “Fine. I’ll Just Be Evil Then.”)
Cybertron’s towers shimmered in the golden light of Iacon’s energy grid, but Soundwave’s optic sensors twitched with mounting stress. His console pinged with diplomatic memos, classified updates, and worst of all—a rejection from yet another daycare center.
"RE: Application for Cassette Unit Supervision
We regret to inform you that your children are classified under 'military-grade espionage tools' and therefore ineligible for SparkSprouts Learning Core."
Soundwave’s vocalizer buzzed in frustration. He was a Senator, a pillar of Cybertronian law and order, yet no institution would take in his small herd of sentient cassette children—each of whom had enough destructive capability to warrant their own defense subcommittee.
Ravage had eaten through a file clerk’s desk last week. Laserbeak had imprinted on a data archivist and now refused to stop following him into the wash racks, chirping emotionally. Rumble and Frenzy had started a minor seismic event during nap time. The nap was canceled. The floor is still cracked... And the caregivers are still traumatized.
He couldn’t blame the facilities. But he also couldn’t keep dragging them to the Senate.
“Senator Soundwave,” crackled a panicked voice over the intercom, “your cassette units are in the ventilation system again. Rumble is—wait—Frenzy just launched himself out of an air duct. Is he—IS THAT A DETONATOR?”
He disconnected the call without comment, which was Soundwave for “I am internally screaming.” Then came the final straw. An emergency Senate meeting. High priority. High stakes. Attendance mandatory. No dependents allowed.”
Soundwave sat very still. Shoulders slumped. Optics dimmed. His spark ached in that slow, quiet way familiar to every working caregiver stuck in a system built by bots who clearly never had to wipe unidentifiable goo off the inside of a political briefing data pad.
Across his screen blinked another security memo: Civil unrest. Riots in Kaon. Broadcasts from Megatron again—raging about the elite and how the Senate catered only to the pristine few.
Soundwave wasn’t sure who the “elite” even were anymore. It definitely wasn’t him. Not forged in the Hall of Records. Not groomed by Primes. Not sipping high-grade energon from crystal flutes while somebody else took the spawnlings to enrichment programming.
He had clawed his way up from the shadow circuits, raised five cassette children while climbing the political ranks, and now? Now he couldn’t even get into an emergency session without a babysitter.
...Then came the final insult: An emergency Senate meeting. High alert. All Senators required. No dependents (OR CASSETTES) allowed.
He tried to reason. Briefly.
“Surely—there is a secure observation chamber—”
“Soundwave,” they interrupted, “we are on the brink of civil war. This is no place for... your cassette situation.”
“Senator Soundwave,” said the automated message, “Reminder: Today’s emergency Senate meeting is classified. No dependents allowed. Attendance is mandatory. Failure to appear will result in loss of voting privileges and probable disciplinary review.”
That was it. Not the clogged air vents. Not the Senate’s thousand-page parenting waiver forms. Not even Ravage getting banned from the cafeteria for hunting the microwave.
It was being told—once again—that his family was a “situation.”
He rage-quit the entire political infrastructure of Cybertron.
He stared at the screen. Slowly. Deliberately. He pressed a button. He activated his surveillance . system. It was the sound and sight of five cassette children screaming in unison while dismantling a vending machine.
He attached the file to his RSVP.
“Regretfully Declined. Kindly and collectively Eat My Entire Aft. Sincerely, Soundwave.”
Then, with the calm of a mech who’d just finally decided, “You know what? To the Pit with this,” he opened a comm line and dialed Megatron.
Megatron: “Soundwave. About time. You ready to rise up?”
Sondwave: “Negative. I’m ready to never fill out another daycare application form EVER again.”
M: “...You bringing the cassettes/children?”
S: “Affirmative. All of them. Rumble, Frenzy, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, Ravage.”
M: “You know we’re starting a violent uprising, right?”
S: “They love those. It's Frenzy’s favorite. I am tuning out of the bureaucratic daycare hellscape that is the Senate.
S: You want me, you take them.”
M: “Can they follow orders?”
S: “Sometimes. It's hit or miss.”
S: “They come with snacks and skills.”
In the background: *Frenzy screaming into the vents for absolutely no reason while buzzsaw and laserbeak eat through the cabling in the wall they're destroying for a nest*
M: “That’s beautiful. Welcome aboard.”
S: “Do Decepticons have healthcare?”
M: “Not really. But we’ve got free refueling and a crying/napping room behind the munitions closet.”
S: “Acceptable. Are dependents allowed to attend meetings?”
M: “They can run HR, for all I care.”
S: “I’m in.”
That night, as the Senate descended into bureaucratic chaos over who was going to draft the Emergency Parking Zoning Act of 405-B, Soundwave reclined in a dark corner of the Decepticon base. Buzzsaw nibbled at Energon snacks. Rumble and Frenzy dropkicked a punching bag labeled “Sentinal Prime.” Ravage dozed atop a crate labeled "Explosives (Definitely Not Toys)."
Soundwave sipped from a cube of high-grade fuel. He’d had enough of trying to be the perfect Senator. Now? He was a Decepticon.
They had a bring-your-minions-to-work policy. And braver babysitters with ball-bearings here. War was hell. But so was parenthood. At least here, the snacks are free and the cassetes could finally be loud. He felt vindicated.
The Senate could keep its rules, panels, and its “no cassettes allowed” elitist energon nonsense. Soundwave was a Decepticon now, and honestly? It came with free dental and part-time daycare (health and safety not guaranteed but frag if he was worried about that on a single mom’s discount ener-mojito-gon night).
And that's why Mamawave became a Decepticon. Corperate and political Cybertron hates families and the working parent.
(much like another planet we know...😤)
I swear--- the older I get, the more I agree with IDW Megatron...
--- I say we start a movement! Like---
Moms And Megatron Against the System! (MAMAS) 🫡🫡🫡
The comic I made if it:
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Post by @thornyfluff · Soundwave and his casette-care grievances: Poor Mamawave cant get a break! I swear---society hates