(This was originally going to be for Megop Week but at some point I realized I’d totally forgotten the prompt I was going for, so here’s a plain-old Megop fic several weeks late from when I meant to post it. Whoops.)
(Warnings: Unjust imprisonment)
The buzz of the prison bars grew steadily more irritating. Aside from the constant hum of those energy beams, all was silent within the cell. From afar, occasional outraged shouts could be heard. A few of the voices sounded familiar to Megatronus, and his face twisted in a proud smirk. He resolved that those who spoke loudest would receive his commendation later. Straining his audial receptors, he sought out one particular voice. It was a quiet voice, so it was very likely to be drowned out. When he didn’t hear it, Megatronus didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. Pacing in his cell, he tried to calculate his next move. The incessant buzz of the prison bars sabotaged this attempt, however, and he snarled his frustration to the lonely cell.
As leader of the rebellion, Megatronus had been separated from his forces and isolated in a private cell. He would have been flattered if he wasn’t so peeved. It wasn’t so much his arrest that troubled him; he’d expected this for some time, and his public protest had made it reality. It had been a peaceful protest, though- a demonstration to call attention to lower class injustices. That was what made Megatronus so mad. If he was going to be arrested, let it be justified. Let it be because he well and truly crossed a line. Let it be-
“Megatronus!”
A low yet urgent voice called out to him. If it had been anyone else, the disruption would have infuriated the gladiator. But it was the voice he’d been listening for. He’d come.
“Orion.”
The prison guard who’d let the archivist in voiced a warning, but Orion Pax utterly ignored him as he darted over to the prison bars. His wide, blue optics studied Megatronus, a frown creasing his face.
“Are you alright?” he asked urgently, “Were you injured in any way?”
The concern cooled some of the fire in Megatronus’s spark. Stepping into the dim light cast by the prison bars and the light fixtures above, he nodded once.
“I am unhurt.”
His tone was guarded and impassive, though only because there was an outsider present. Orion knew this and turned to the guard.
“Is there any chance we can speak in private?”
An incredulous huff met his words, “Not going to happen.”
Orion’s brows drew together at the dismissive tone. They relaxed when Megatronus addressed him again.
“Orion, what are you doing here?” He couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved to see the archivist. He hadn’t known what became of him when the rebels had been rounded up, hence why he’d listened for his voice among the other prisoners. Still, he wished Orion had stayed away. This wasn’t a safe place for Megatronus’s supporters. If he disclosed too much, the guard would very likely throw him in a cell, too.
“I had to ensure you were safe,” Orion responded. The blue of his optics intensified in the glow of the prison bars, “I was unable to find you when-”
“As I have already told you, I am fine.”
At Megatronus’s interruption, Orion clammed up. If he sensed he’d been about to reveal too much, he didn’t appear concerned, only continuing to stare at Megatronus with a resolute expression. It was the stubborn face Megatronus had come to adore- the one that told the world this little archivist was unafraid to speak his mind. Right now, though, the gladiator wished Orion would stand down for once.
Orion Pax…Megatronus resisted a sigh, What am I to do with you?
He realized he’d drawn closer to the prison bars as they spoke. If he moved half a step further, he’d be burnt. On the other side, Orion had pressed as close to the bars as he could.
So little distance between them, yet out of reach all the same.
Orion’s gaze flickered over Megatronus, who remained impassive despite the rapid pounding in his spark. At last, Orion tore his gaze away to face the prison guard.
“How long until he and the others are released?”
The guard shrugged, “How should I know?”
Megatronus resisted another snarl. Thankfully, Orion was much calmer.
“Who can I ask for this information?”
“My superiors.”
“Where can I find them?”
“You can’t,” the guard answered firmly, “They don’t like to be disturbed.”
From his angle, Megatronus couldn’t see Orion’s face, though he knew it had set in a dangerously stubborn line, “They will have to make an exception.”
“Orion-” Megatronus began warily.
“Megatronus,” Orion responded in a tone clearly meant to convey “Let me handle this.”
But how could he? As dedicated as Orion was to Megatronus’s cause, he’d never been in the thick of it before. He was still the sheltered prodigy of Alpha Trion. He had no idea of the trouble he was inviting.
“There is nothing you can do for me,” Megatronus chose his words carefully, “You will do no good by accompanying me into trouble.”
Orion didn’t respond.
“Listen to your friend,” the guard jumped in, “You don’t want to be associated with his kind.”
The words were stated flippantly, without an ounce of regret or shame. Megatronus’s optics blazed. A familiar rage surged in his spark and spread throughout his entire frame. It was all he could do not to let it spill over. He had no idea what he’d do if he did, but for Orion’s sake, he kept it in check. Instead, he clenched his servos firmly behind his back, where they trembled violently.
Orion still didn’t turn to face him. There was tension in his shoulders, though his expression was now unreadable to Megatronus. Still caught up in his own ire, Megatronus was too late to prevent Orion from speaking.
“I already am,” the archivist stated calmly, “I was there at the protest. I am Megatronus’s most loyal supporter. You should lock me up as well.”
The guard was taken aback by Orion’s frankness, though not nearly as much as Megatronus was. His spark squeezed and suddenly burst back to life as he drew as close to the bars as he could, feeling the lasers singe his chest and face.
“Orion!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“Megatronus,” Orion replied smoothly.
Once the guard had recovered himself, he gestured toward the door, vague confusion still painted on his face.
“Follow me...”
Orion nodded once and accompanied the guard out the door, leaving Megatronus in agony behind them. He wanted to shout after Orion but knew that, yet again, his words were useless. Once the door was shut, Megatronus couldn’t hold back anymore. He slammed a fist into the wall of his cell. It didn’t leave a mark. The walls were thick.
A roar of outrage surged from his voice box as he struck the wall again and again. He felt his digits crack and pain lance through his servos but he didn’t care. He just needed to leave a dent. Just one dent to prove that even if his voice was powerless, his fists weren’t.
When he at last recoiled, taking two shaky steps back, there was a dent. It was small - too small - but Megatronus couldn’t muster the energy to continue. He was exhausted, though his fatigue felt more emotional than physical. He collapsed onto the bench at the far end of the cell and held his face in his servos, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
The prison bars continued to hum.
Eventually, the door opened again. Silence suddenly permeated the cell. The hum had stopped.
“No room in the other cells. Play nice, you two,” The same guard of before spoke, a note of trepidation in his voice. The hum resumed not long after. At last, Megatronus summoned the will to look up.
Orion stood before him, now sealed behind the bars with him. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked over to sit beside Megatronus, who watched him with a detached, indecipherable expression. Orion looked unbothered, however, and regarded his companion with calm resignation and resolve. Unable to stand it, Megatronus let out a long, frustrated sigh.
“Orion…”
“Megatronus.”
Another bout of silence ensued during which Megatronus studied Orion, who remained unflinching- as always. Before Megatronus could even begin to think of what to say, or how to say it, Orion broke the quiet tension.
“Do not be angry with me, Megatronus,” he spoke calmly, though his voice was soft, “I could think of no other solution.”
Now Megatronus knew exactly what to say, “What solution? How do you hope to solve anything while trapped in a cell with me?”
“I am an archivist in the Hall of Records and an apprentice to Alpha Trion. Perhaps my imprisonment will draw attention to the unjust capture of your followers and yourself.”
“Perhaps?” Megatronus almost laughed, but in the end, there was nothing funny about any of this. He drew himself up and turned piercing optics on Orion. Even sitting down, he leered over the archivist
“Who do you think you are, Orion Pax?” he hissed, prison bars glinting off pointed teeth, “You’re nothing- an insignificant little archivist with nothing but Alpha Trion’s favor to your name. You have accomplished nothing. Your sacrifice means nothing. No matter what you do, you will always be nothing!”
On the last “nothing,” something within Megatronus caved. He turned away, gaze burning like the laser beams imprisoning him. He shut his optics.
They opened almost immediately when a gentle servo rested itself on his tightened fist. The touch became more solid as small digits fastened themselves around his hand, effortlessly prying his clawed digits open. The servo then rested itself in his. Reflexively, Megatronus closed his digits carefully around it.
He still didn’t turn back, but Orion spoke all the same.
“I do what I can. That is not nothing,” He gave Megatronus’s servo a squeeze, “You give all that you are. That is not nothing.”
A weighted pause followed his words. Unable to resist, Megatronus turned to him again. A smile graced the archivist’s gentle face. Megatronus was captivated by it. Under the gladiator’s spellbound gaze, Orion drew strength and sat up straighter.
“You have a voice, Megatronus, and it amplifies the voices of those around you. You inspire others to speak up for what is right. I could not have made the decision I did today without your example.”
A small sigh escaped Orion as he glanced down at their conjoined servos, “Maybe it was a foolish choice. Maybe nothing will come of it…But if I did not try, I would be unworthy to stand at your side.”
He didn’t look up when he finished speaking, but kept his gaze trained on their servos. If anyone else had said these words, Megatronus would have assumed they were at best comforting him, at worst attempting to gain favor. But this was Orion, and Orion was the sincerest mech Megatronus had ever known. He was also the naivest.
“Are you willing to remain by my side,” he said at last, “Even if I fall?”
Orion immediately met his gaze, to see two, tormented optics imploring him for a response. The archivist tightened his hold on Megatronus’s servo.
“Until the end,” he vowed, “I am yours.”
Megatronus shut his optics as that grave promise washed over him. When he opened them again, new resolve glinted in their depths. He saw that same resolve reflected in Orion’s optics. The gladiator drew strength from that mirrored gaze.
With Orion Pax by his side, he would tear this world down and stamp on its remains. Together, they would build a new and better Cybertron. No one would dare treat them like nothing ever again.
However long it took - whatever sacrifices had to be made - Megatronus looked forward to it all with a cruel smile.
(Finished at last! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! I tried to pack in as much humor, action, and suspense as I could!)
(Warnings: slight injury, fear, fighting, death mention)
Well, they didn’t die immediately, so Sammy counted that as a small win.
The inky sewage water sloshed about the musician’s lower legs. He tried not to focus on that, but it was a bit hard not to. He also tried not to think about the fact that he was inhaling toxic fumes; even while wearing the spare nose pin Jack had lent him, he could almost taste it on his tongue. How did Jack work like this? He glanced at the lyricist trudging along beside him. He seemed unbothered, though that was probably because he was geared up with both a nose pin and high, rubber boots, while Sammy was forced to slog through the muck in regular, non-water resistant shoes.
Sammy didn’t realize he’d been glaring until Jack glared back.
“What?” the lyricist said testily.
“You sure you didn’t have any extra boots?” Sammy asked for the third time.
“Positive,” Jack replied through gritted teeth.
Sammy relented and grew spitefully silent. His hand reflexively clenched and unclenched the wrench he’d grabbed before they embarked on this rescue mission. He wasn’t sure what good it would do against a massive ink monster, but it was better than going in empty-handed.
Or maybe worse, he mused, Gives you a false sense of hope.
He shook his head. No use getting pessimistic. Susie needed rescuing and that was all he needed to worry about, though the fact that this would very likely go horribly wrong and all three of them would most certainly be eaten was an irritatingly persistent thought.
Jack spoke, as if hearing Sammy’s thoughts, “We will save her, you know, despite the odds.”
“Because we have to?” Sammy asked.
“Yeah,” Jack replied, “Because we have to.”
Sammy glanced at the lyricist, who flinched at his own shadow cast by the candle in his quivering hand. He was no fighter, but neither was Sammy. Come to think of it, they really should have asked for more backup. It wasn’t like there’d be any forthcoming, though, at least not of the useful variety. The only employees that might stand a chance against the ink monster were Thomas, Lacie, and Henry, and even they might fail. Besides, Susie needed help now and hunting those three down would take up precious time they didn’t have.
So it was up to them: a lyricist spooked by his own shadow and a musician with bird-like limbs. Yeah, they were definitely going to die.
And of all the people to die beside, it had to be Jack Fain.
“What’s the plan anyway?” Sammy snapped, “Or were you just going to go in swinging and hope that would be enough?”
Jack glared at him, “Do you have a better idea?”
No. “Of course.”
“Then by all means, let’s hear it.”
Sammy realized he’d backed himself into a corner. He cleared his throat, “Well...maybe one of us could be a distraction.” Yeah, that made sense.
“Distraction?” Jack echoed dubiously.
Sammy nodded emphatically, “One of us makes lots of noise to draw the attention of the ink thing, while the other gets Susie.”
As plans went, it was a sorry excuse for one, but tactics weren’t exactly in his job description.
“So…” Jack began, “Which of us do you intend to sacrifice?”
Oh, right. “Um…”
“Because it would make sense to put forth the largest target,” Jack glanced pointedly up and down Sammy’s lanky frame, “Don’t you think?”
Sammy regretted everything, “Well...it was just a suggestion. We don’t have to go with that plan.”
“No, no, I am quite intrigued,” If he didn’t need him to rescue Susie, Sammy would have wiped that smug look off his stupid mustached face.
Not one to take things lying down all the same, Sammy opened his mouth to respond, when a quiet gurgling stopped the breath in his lungs. Slowly, he glanced up ahead. Something was moving. Squinting, he corrected that thought. Some things were moving, almost like waves in a tumultuous sea.
Both he and Jack froze in their tracks. For all their talk of rescue, their resolve was starting to wane. Okay, maybe we should have gone for backup. Susie can last a little longer, right?
As the creatures drew nearer, the musician and the lyricist could see them for what they were. Ink creatures, small but making up for their size with sheer numbers. Sammy counted twenty at least, all of them bearing down on the two hapless employees.
Jack screamed, his grip on the candle slackening until it tipped from his hand. Sammy just barely managed to push it back into his grasp before their light was extinguished. As he did so, one of the creatures lunged. Sammy leaped to dodge its groping hand. Summoning his courage, he brought his wrench down on its slippery head. When that gave it pause, the musician struck again and again, not letting up until the creature sank back into the ink.
“I did it!” Sammy cried, before he was promptly seized by a multitude of cold, inhuman hands.
Sammy’s vocal range was actually quite high, but the noise that escaped him somehow reached new levels.
“Jack!” he screeched. He couldn’t see the lyricist. Sammy was struck with the horrible thought that Jack had abandoned him here, maybe done as Sammy himself had suggested and gone on to find Susie while there was a distraction. Or, more likely, he’d turned tail and fled.
Sammy had predicted that this rescue would be the death of him, though that didn’t mean he welcomed it. He thrashed, his feet and fists striking out at anything they could connect with. He hissed as his fist glanced off the wall, feeling the skin of his knuckles break open. And still he kept struggling. There wasn’t much choice.
Just as he felt his strength ebbing, his foot jabbed into something unexpected. It was soft but solid and gave a faint “Oof!” as it stumbled back.
Sammy had never been more relieved to hear that voice.
“Jack!”
“Sammy!”
A flicker of glorious light marked where Jack stood. Sammy could barely make him out as the lyricist plunged forward. The rescue was made a little less heroic due to Jack’s squeals whenever an ink monster reached for him, but as Sammy felt a warm, thoroughly human hand grab his wrist, he couldn’t care less.
“Run!” Jack cried. Sammy didn’t need to be told twice. The two booked it back the way they came. Neither paused to check whether they were being followed. Only one thing mattered to them right now: escape.
Soon, another light grew closer. Sammy recognized Jack’s little haven in the wall where he worked. Sprinting past it, they leaped out of the sewers and made a dash for the stairs that led into the infirmary and out of the sewers.
Sammy’s relief only lasted a moment. Jack and him slewed to a halt, staring in horror.
The stairs were completely blocked. Stacks of wooden beams and heavy pipes dripping with ink had all been piled high in front. It would take ages to free themselves
“How did…” Jack paused for breath, “How did they do this?”
Sammy had no response. There was none. Ink monsters, in theory, shouldn’t have been capable of trapping them like this. Sammy’s knowledge on the subject may have been limited, but he’d have thought that much was true. He was wrong.
“What are we going to do?” Jack shrieked, “We’re trapped! We can’t get help! Susie’s still lost somewhere in there! We...We’re going to die down here!”
Sammy still didn’t know how to reply, but he was saved the attempt as he heard the gurgling noises approach.
“Quick!” He shoved Jack into a small corner directly across from the stairs. It was a poor hiding place, but so long as the ink creatures didn’t think to check over here, they’d be safe.
He heard them grow closer. Jack’s breathing had grown erratic, so Sammy clapped a hand over his mouth. Ordinarily, Jack would have shoved him away, but the lyricist just remained stone still, eyes wide and terrified. Sammy imagined he wore much the same expression.
After what seemed like hours, the gurgling began to grow fainter, until it faded altogether as the ink creatures splashed back into the sewer. Sammy didn’t move for some long moments after. Jack’s shaking fingers pulled at the hand over his mouth and Sammy at last snatched his hand away. For a while, all either of them could manage were shivering breaths.
Swallowing thickly, Jack spoke at least, “What are we going to do?” He repeated his question of before.
I made sugar cookies with my friend @worldscheeriestemo! Since I recently dragged them into the wide world of Transformers, we decided to make Transformers-inspired cookies! This was my first time designing sugar cookies in years so it was an interesting challenge.
Tailgate, Knock Out, Cyclonus, and Optimus were made by me. Ratchet, Chromedome, and the Autobot and Decepticon insignias were made by my friend!
I JUST FINISHED THE LATEST EPISODES OF EARTHSPARK AND AHHHHH!!! THIS SHOW IS SO GOOD!!! I simultaneously need to scream and cry, holy heck!!! I haven't felt this way over a Transformers show since TFP!!! GAH, ALL THE FEELS!!!
Details as to why I feel this way under the cut. Spoiler warning!
Mo getting a sword as a weapon as opposed to a shield/blunt object or pew pew guns like her other siblings? Freaking amazing!!! I was rooting for her to stab Mandroid in the face!
Jawbreaker, my beloved!!! Grimlock, My beloved!!! My dino boys!!! This is definitely my favorite iteration of Grimlock. This batch of episodes really explored the trauma these characters have gone through and Grimlock's trauma was the perfect introduction, by which I mean it was very sad but heartwarming when Jawbreaker chose to lay down arms to save Grimlock. And their hug at the end ahhhh!!!
Robby freaking DYING?? In a kid's show??? It's more likely than you think. No, but seriously, "Prime Time" might be my favorite episode and it barely has any Transformers in it!!! The emotions are just...so on point and so real and, again, MO WITH A SWORD!!!
STARSCREAM! He's not even one of my favorites but his bonding with Hashtag and the actual acknowledgement of Megatron's abuse was just...wow. I never expected any Transformers media to actually delve into that in any meaningful way. "I believe he hurt you." Gosh DANG it, now I have feelings!!!
Bruh, all the Decepticons showing up at the end?? Soundwave and Swindle riding Hardtop into battle??? I literally cheered at the screen!!! And the fact that freaking STARSCREAM brought them together??? Never thought I'd see the day! And side note, Twitch hugging him in midair was so cute!!!
Twitch and Nightshade at the end...how do I begin to describe how I felt over those scenes? They literally thought their whole family was DEAD and they STILL kept going!!! They had to make the hard calls to possibly kill Elita and Optimus and THEY KEPT GOING. I rationally knew no one was actually dead but I still FELT the weight of it all with them. THAT'S good storytelling!
Twitch staring down Megatron's gun barrel now lives in my head rent free. The animation was GORGEOUS, with Twitch's horrified expression and Megatron cast all in shadow. And then when every Cybertronian/Terran freaking DIED leaving only Twitch left, shielded by her brother's corpse???? AHHHH THE ANGST!!! The only thing that could have made it better is if she'd actually kept that crack over her eye as a scar from the battle, but still, BEST FINALE EVER. I couldn't have asked for a better one!
Oh, also, as a Megop shipper, I gotta shout out Megatron's sly little "I'm impressed" to Optimus because yeah. Gay.
I want to go back and watch the entire season now.
I missed creating random headcanons, so here’s everyone’s favorite drinks! Feel free to suggest more!
Favorite Beverages:
Optimus- He’s particularly fond of jasmine and green tea, though really any herbal tea suffices. We all know the man needs to relax and herbal tea soothes him to a certain degree. If he’s in need of a dose of caffeine, he’ll switch to black tea. He never resorts to coffee; he can’t stand the taste.
Ratchet: Unlike Optimus, coffee is his friend. He downs at least three cups a day while typing away at his station. Some of it is to keep alert, though largely he just finds it comforting.
Arcee- She prefers iced coffee, namely oliang, or Thai iced coffee as it's often called. She could drink it all day and would if her companions didn’t cut her off.
Bumblebee- Lemonade! He enjoys the sweet and sour flavor and subsequent sugar rush. Sometimes he’ll even bounce up and down while drinking it (Ratchet is concerned about this).
Bulkhead- Strangely, he hates all sodas except for root beer, which is his favorite beverage. Root beer floats are even better!
Megatron- He’ll settle for plain black coffee, though in his heart of hearts he is a material girl who wants a cappuccino or latte served on a saucer.
Starscream- Earl Grey or English breakfast tea. He’ll even add a spot of milk and stir it condescendingly in front of the other Cons. He likes to think it an act of superiority even though he boils the water in the same dented teapot as everyone else.
Knock Out- You know he has the most obnoxious coffee order imaginable; he will not settle for anything less than what he asked for. So far, Breakdown’s been the only one not to crack under the pressure of fulfilling his order (mainly because Knock Out is much more forgiving towards him). Oh, and he also enjoys wine simply so he can swirl it about in a wine glass while lounging seductively.
Breakdown- Hot cocoa! All he’s ever tasted is the cheap powdery kind, but he does not care. He loves it. His secret sweet tooth must be satisfied (when no one’s looking, he adds lots of cream and sugar to his coffee in the morning).
Soundwave- Espresso. One shot and he’s good to go.
Shockwave- Water, of course; it’s the healthiest option. That being said, he’s not averse to coffee. It also has health benefits, so long as one doesn’t consume too much.
Bonus:
Skyfire- Vanilla steamer. It’s sweet and warm and soothing. He can only drink it at night, though, because it will immediately make him sleepy.
Rumble and Frenzy- Did anyone else mix together every single drink at the soda fountain as a kid? No? Well, I did and I think Rumble and Frenzy would, too. Doesn’t matter how disgusting it turns out in the end; they’ll drink every last drop and even offer some to Soundwave, who will sip it to appease them even though it nearly makes him break his impassive exterior.
Wildbreak- Bubble tea. It’s a special treat Knock Out gets him every once in a while. Somehow, his dad knows exactly what flavors he’ll enjoy.
(Yeah, so it is WAY past Halloween. I got really busy all of a sudden and had to put all fanfic on hold. That being said, here's part 2! I expect to have much more free time in a couple weeks, so hopefully I'll finish the rest of this story soon.)
(Warnings: None)
(Part 1)
(AO3)
Megatron’s schemes were usually ridiculous, but this one topped them all. Relying on a human custom? Had he lost his processor?!
Idiot Megatron, Starscream groused to himself, If I were leader, you’d never see me-
“Could you hurry it up?”
“What?” Starscream nearly veered off course at the rude interupption to his thoughts. Ahead of him, Thundercracker continued smoothly. Anyone watching would assume he was the one in charge. The very notion was mortifying, prompting Starscream to redouble his speed to zip past him.
“Don’t go blundering ahead of me,” the lead Seeker sniped, “You don’t know where you’re going.”
“Then fly faster,” Thundercracker replied with some exasperation, “Quit dragging your thrusters.”
“Don’t talk to me that way! I am your superior! This is my mission!”
“And what is the mission again?”
Starscream resisted the sudden urge to blast Thundercracker out of the sky, “We are going to lure those stupid Autobots into a trap.”
“Right, right…How are we doing that exactly?”
In answer, Starscream transformed back to bot-mode and touched down on the side of a road. When Thundercracker joined him, Starscream proceeded to open his cockpit and rummage inside, eventually pulling out a large, rolled up sheet of canvas.
“What’s that?” Thundercracker frowned.
Unable to resist, Starscream bonked him on the head with the sheet, “This, my rust-headed friend, is what will lure the Autobots to our ‘haunted house’,” He couldn’t help the disdain that creeped into his voice at the last two words. Human customs. What a waste of fuel!
Rubbing his head, Thundercracker glanced at the sheet, then at their surroundings, gaze alighting on a nearby billboard, “Oh, so we-”
“Yes!” Starscream shoved his comrade over to the billboard, “Now hurry up before any Autobots come along!”
Each taking one end of the canvas, the two seekers stretched it over the billboard, which currently displayed an advertisement for some human eatery. When they were done, Starscream stepped back to admire the handiwork. He still thought this whole plan was stupid, but he had to say that his part in it was flawlessly executed.
The rumble of engines forestalled his self-admiration.
“Quickly, behind those rocks!”
At least Thundercracker paid attention this time. Ducking behind the rocks, the jets waited in silent anticipation as the engines grew closer.
“Hey, look at that!”
Starscream couldn’t prevent a devilish grin as the engines came to an abrupt halt.
“Look at what, Ironhide?”
“That billboard! Spike was just telling me and Bumblebee about these. Apparently they’re good for testing bravery and whatnot.”
“Sounds like a hoot!” The other Autobot - Jazz, Starscream was pretty sure - replied, “Any music involved?”
“I dunno. Have to ask Spike,” Ironhide’s engine rumbled speculatively, “Says here this haunted house is happenin’ in a few days. Perfect timin’!”
Jazz’s engine revved in enthusiasm, “Well, let’s finish our patrol so we can get back and tell everybody!”
“Race you to the next checkpoint!”
“You’re on, Ironhide!”
A cloud of dust billowed up as the two Autobots raced away. Starscream waved it away with an irritated servo. How the Autobots could stand such filth was beyond him.
“It worked!” Thundercracker cried happily.
“Of course it did,” Starscream chastised, “This was my operation, after all.”
He waited a few more astroseconds until Ironhide and Jazz were well and truly far enough away, then gestured to his companion.
“Come on!” He stood to his feet and brushed some dust from his cockpit, “Let’s get back to base so we can clean off this filth.”
“It’s not so bad,” Thundercracker replied mildly.
Starscream paused to glare at him, “Well, if you’d rather be a ground-hugger like those wheelbound idiots, be my guest!”
Without waiting for a response, Starscream leaped into the air and took flight, leaving Thundercracker coughing in his wake. Megatron expected them to report in before the Earth’s sun set, and it was getting late. As always, Starscream chafed at having to report to someone else, and as always he reminded himself it was only temporary.
One day, Megatron, he vowed, One day I will be leader, and you won’t see me using some stupid Earth tradition to win!
“You coming?”
Startled, Starscream realized that Thundercracker had, once again, overtaken him.
“Out of my way!” he cried, and, practically crashing into the other Seeker, hastened to take the lead once more.
(Hey, long time no posting! In honor of the Halloween season, here's a spooky themed G1 fanfic. As this is in the G1 universe, I tried to write this like a legit episode, so expect nothing to make sense. Hopefully I'll finish this up by Halloween, but if not, oh well. We of Tumblr celebrate Halloween year-round anyway.)
(Warnings: None)
(AO3)
“I still don’t see the point of all this,” Ironhide grumbled.
Glancing his way, Bumblebee couldn’t help laughing as he watched the red Autobot struggle to remove spider webbing from his servos. Spike’s laughter mingled with his own and he felt the boy grip one of his horns so he wouldn’t topple off his shoulder.
“C’mon, Ironhide!” Spike teased, “How many times do I have to explain it?”
With a grunt of frustration, the pickup truck attempted to wipe his hands on the nearby control panel for Teletraan 1. Wheeljack’s not gonna like that, Bumblebee mused quietly. Carefully reaching down, the yellow Autobot grabbed the last handful of fake webbing and handed it to Spike. Ironhide glared at how easily he managed the task.
“I just think this whole Hallo-watchacallit is a waste of fuel,” he griped, “ ‘Specially when there’s Decepticons that need a poundin’.”
“Prime and the others have it covered,” Bumblebee reminded him for the umpteenth time, “We have our own mission to complete here.”
“Decoratin’ for some human holiday we know nothin’ about?”
“Precisely!” Bumblebee replied with a smile. Not waiting to receive the glare he knew Ironhide would throw at him, he turned back to Spike and watched as the boy pinned the last of the webs to the wall.
“That should do it!”
Stepping back, the two friends surveyed their handiwork, nodding to themselves.
“Spooky,” Bumblebee concluded, even though he didn’t understand why strands of thread were considered scary. If Spike wanted scary, they could hang a picture of Megatron.
“Yeah!” Spike enthused as Bumblebee set him down, “A regular haunted house!”
“Haunted what?” Ironhide glanced up from his ongoing struggle with the webs.
“Haunted house,” Spike repeated, “It’s a place where ghosts and scary monsters jump out at you. It’s a load of fun!”
Bumblebee felt a tinge of alarm at Spike’s enthusiasm, “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“I wouldn’t go in there,” Ironhide agreed, “Not without a good blaster.”
Spike shook his head emphatically, “It’s all pretend. They just give you a good scare, is all. No danger. “
This did not relieve Bumblebee’s confusion. Glancing at Ironhide, he could see the same expression reflected back at him. Humans were strange creatures. Why on earth would they want to be scared?
He voiced his thoughts aloud, to which Spike struggled to respond.
“Well, uh…I don’t know. I guess we just like the thrill or something.” Something lit up in his gaze and he gestured to Ironhide, “Like how Ironhide likes fighting Decepticons even though it's dangerous.”
“For them!” Ironhide added with a grin.
Spike ignored him as another thought struck him, “And you get to test yourself- see how long you can last without running scared.”
Bumblebee considered, “So…it tests your bravery?”
“Yeah, more or less.”
“Well, shoot,” Ironhide broke in, “Why didn’tcha say so? Half the Autobots’ll dig that, myself included!”
Bumblebee frowned, “I don’t know…”
A mischievous grin split Ironhide’s face, “What, ya roboto-chicken?”
The accusation rang true, though Bumblebee was loath to admit it, especially in front of a senior Autobot. So, bristling with mock disdain, the yellow car shook his head.
“Of course not! I just…think we have better things to do with our time, is all.”
He realized too late that he’d echoed Ironhide’s sentiment of before. The older Autobot gave a knowing smile but thankfully didn’t call out his bluff.
“Aw, c’mon Bumblebee!” Spike grinned up at his friend, “It’ll be fun! What d’ya say?”
Facing an attack on two fronts, Bumblebee at last let out a sigh.
“Fine, I guess it could be fun.”
His voice stuttered at the end as Ironhide slapped a servo on his back.
“That’s the spirit! ‘Sides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
~
Ironhide’s enthusiastic words echoed in the vast control room of the Decepticon base. With a click, the recording stopped and the small cassette player at Megatron’s feet transformed back into his trusted communications officer, Soundwave.
“Excellent work, Laserbeak,” he praised, though he had no idea whether the minicon could hear him within Soundwave’s chest.
“Excellent? What’s so excellent about some stupid human custom?” Starscream scoffed. As always, the mere sound of his second-in-command’s voice had Megatron clenching his fists.
“As always, Starscream, your shortsighted stupidity knows no bounds.”
Starscream opened his mouth to argue. A fierce glare had him shutting it again. Satisfied, Megatron continued, knowing both Starscream and Soundwave were listening attentively.
“This ‘haunted house’ will prove the perfect trap for those cursed Autobots. All we need do is set it.”
“How do we do that?” As always, Starscream couldn’t go more than five astroseconds without speaking.
“You will be in charge of that, Starscream,” Megatron growled, “Fail me and I will have your spark.”
With Starscream suitably cowed once more, Megatron leaned in to divulge the plan.
Foolish Autobots, he thought to himself, Your connection with those insignificant life forms will prove your undoing!
