TF prompts

[yami_samuraiflo]

 

Prompt: Scrapper / Drag Strip / violent

 

Of all the Constructicons, Scrapper was one of the hardest to anger and even if you did, you had a better chance to survive his wrath than, say, Bonecrusher’s wrath. The only one who could be considered meeker was Scavenger, and Scavenger didn’t really count since anyone could beat him into submission... when his gestalt brothers weren’t around, of course.

 

It was like a game, really, to see what would push the reserved engineer over the edge and send him on a killing spree. Over the vorns, nobody had ever seen him lose it and start shooting at everyone. Threatening, yes, but he never did anything else, probably because the other Constructicons did that for him.

 

But now, he was ready to make an exception. Or rather, he already did, Drag Strip mused as he screamed in pain as Scrapper ripped off a part of his armor before plunging a hand into his wires and circuits. The Stunticon had really been at the wrong place at the wrong time, it seemed.

 

“Can I have your attention, please?” the engineer called cheerfully. He didn’t really need to; as soon as Drag Strip had yelled, everybody had stopped bickering at each others or stopped laughing at Scrapper’s pitiful attempt to make everyody stay quiet. Now, they weren’t laughing anymore. Something was very wrong with this picture. It looked like Scrapper had finally lost it.

 

Looking at the various injured under his watch, the Constructicon sobbered. “I had a very, very bad day,” he said quietly. Behind his mask, he was smilling, and it wasn’t a nice smile. Drag Strip tried to jerk away, but Scrapper’s hand was firmly connected. “Not only did we get our collective afts kicked by those stupid Autobrats, but my latest project is now ruined no thanks to them. Hook was injured as well as Scavenger and Mixamaster, and Long Haul and Bonecrusher are still trying to sort the mess back on the battlefield and recover what can be recovered, and as such they are either in stasis or can’t take their shifts.”

 

He paused and glanced at the injured, who were looking at him with increudlous faces. Drag Strip was beginning to feel nervous. Ok, Scrapper wasn’t an happy mech, but couldn’t he just stop tugging at these wires, pretty please? Not that he would say that out loud; no Decepticon ever said ‘please’.

 

The Constructicon’s engineer resumed his speech. “So gentlemechs, and I use this term very loosely, I’m now struck here with you, meaning a whole bunch of ungrateful, stupid little fraggers instead of getting myself plastered with Mixmaster’s special mix as I wished, because I’m the only one remotely competent to keep you from being sent to the Pits. I can’t work on my own team-mates because they aren’t the priority right now. As you can guess, I’m not amused. I already had to deal with an angry Megatron and a bitchy Starscream, who used the few amount of patience I had left. I’m tired, hungry, and not in the mood for any one to protest, to try to escape the Medbay or to try to make me loose my CPU, because I can assure you that if I do, nobody will walk out of this room alive.”

 

Drag Strip yelped in pain as the engineer twisted something inside him. Scrapper chuckled darkly at hearing the sound of pain. “Now, will you stay still and quiet or do I have to turn violent?” he snarled at everyone, his fingers plunged in the yellow Stunticon’s torso gripping at some wires. He pulled them in a threatening way, and Drag Strip could sense them sparking and starting to be disconnected. He had no idea if they were vital wires, but if the engineer pulled just a little more...

 

Drag Strip just nodded fearfully in defeat, imited by several other ‘Cons. If Scrapper wasn’t violent yet, they certainly didn’t want to find out what the Constructicon considered to be violent behavior. Not when they were injured and in need of repairs, anyway.

 

In the background, Rumble smiled triumphaly at his sullen twin. It looked like he had won the betting pool...

 

 

Prompt: Ravage / Hook / learning

 

There was a lot of noise in the Nemesis’ Medbay. Five mechs were standing outside the room, glancing toward the locked doors. One of them raised an optic ridge as he heard a long string of profanities.

 

“Why, I didn’t know Hook knew such words,” said Long Haul. Behind him, Mixmaster nodded in agreement. “H-h-he’s in a foul – foul mood today.”

 

Scavenger stared at them silently. Bonecrusher snickered. Scrapper sighed. “I don’t call that a foul mood, but a tantrum,” he said quietly. Long Haul shrugged. “Serves him right: he’s the one who insisted he could take care of that little slagger alone.”

 

Scavenger smiled shyly. “Still... Shouldn’t we feel at least a little sorry for him for dealing with Ravage alone?” he asked. At the blank look he received from everyone, he continued. “I mean, you must admit that it was an easy mistake; I mean, of all the Cassettes, he’s usually the most well-behaved...” he trailed off.

 

Scrapper shook his head and put a hand on the shovel’s shoulder.“Scavenger, my friend, never forget: nobody is well behaved during anti-virus upgrade, and certainly not Ravage. We tried to tell Hook; he didn’t want to listen. Our dear brother needed to learn that the hard way. Next time, he’ll know he must never do this. Alone. Ever. Again.”

 

“Come to think of it, why didn’t he know that already?” asked Mixmaster, frowning. “Soundwave told us already several times Ravage was the nervous and possibly violent kind when it comes to upgrades, so why did Hook refused our help?”

 

Scrapper shrugged helplessly. “It probably slipped his mind. And if you remember well, he never was the one who had to deal with anti-virus upgrades before coming to Earth. Usually, we gave the job to a grunt for the regular troops, and Soundwave took care of his little monsters himself. Really unfortunate he’s on a mission right now,” muttered the unhappy Constructicon.

 

They couldn’t make further comment on Soundwave’s timely absence, as Hook finally cried out in triumph and the doors of the ‘Bay unlocked, letting Hook step outside. His armor spotted claw and bite marks and he was even dented at several places at certain unmentionable places. Well, it explained some of the screams, mused Scrapper.

 

The surgeon’s optics indicated ‘I’m going to kill someone in the most painful way possible in the next twenty breems, so don’t cross me!’. Wisely, nobody spoke. Or at least, for a full breem.

 

“So... How did it go?” asked Bonecrusher, barely hiding his amusement. “Should we tell Soundwave that his precious Cassette is dead, or did you manage to coerce him into obedience?”

 

Hook’s optics twitched. Slowly, he showed his fellow Constructicons the cat-like Cassette, who he was holding by his tail. Ravage tried vainly to maul him, without success. “Please, take note that all the Cassettes must always be sedated before we treat them. Better yet, I will never be the one to take care of them ever again unless it’s a life or death situation, and even then, I’m not sure I will help them,” grunted the medic before dropping the mechanic feline on the floor and closing the doors again, locking everyone outside again.

 

Scrapper smiled behind his mask. “See the bright side, gentlemechs; at least he learned his lesson when it comes to Cassettes.”

 

 

Prompt: Skywarp / Starscream / asleep

 

Starscream, Skywarp decided as he observed the Air Commander, had many masks. Nobody could really see through them when he was awake, but once he slept, then you could see something surprising.

 

It was really strange to see the arrogant, ambicious, traitorous and ill-tempered SIC sleeping, especially after a battle. The way he curled upon himself, one would think he was a sparkling having cried himself to sleep. Somehow, it was probably true; Decepticon’s defeat + moody Megatron + Starscream’s big mouth = fusion cannon’s shot+ unhappy Constructicons + badly damaged Starscream who would scream about the injustice he suffered.

 

And TC said he was bad at math!

 

In his recharge, Starscream whimpered softly and shifted against someone who wasn’t here, probably a bigger, nicer mech than himself who had preferred to join the Autobots, or perhaps a parent who would hold him close and safe.

 

Skywarp’s smile faltered. Really, it was probably better to leave Starscream alone when he was so calm and relaxed. It was incredibly rare, the red Seeker preferring to scream his vocalize off at everyone.

 

But the black Seeker was on a mission and couldn’t be slowed by unnecessary feelings.

 

Besides, after Starscream had let him be assaulted by those fragging Pit-spawns the Autobots dared to call Twins in the last battle, he wasn’t in a forgiving mood.

 

Ok, so the flirting had been nice and almost innocent aside from the aft-grabbing and lew comments and cat-whistles, but TC, who had seen him and had seen that he hadn’t exactly resisted them, had frostily told him he wouldn’t be allowed back in his berth for the next five orns.

 

Skywarp had been crestfallen; it was torture! Yes, he reminded himself, the Screamer deserved his fate; had he offered him some help, perhaps Thundercracker wouldn’t have caught him nuzzling against the red Twin.

 

Smiling wickedly, the black Seeker took a black marker out of subspace and started drawing; Starscream was in a heavy recharge and didn’t even twitch as the marker traced whiskers on his face.

 

Cute like a sparkling in his sleep or not, Skywarp grinned, revenge should be his and Starscream would probably scream bloody murder once he took a look in a mirror in the morning.

 

He just hoped Reflector would be able to take photos.

 

 

Prompt: Carly / Red Alert / morals

 

The Ark was very calm today. Mostly because most of the occupants were gone, trying to stop a Decepticon’s raid. But some people were still there and not happy about it.

 

“So I’m a girl and I must be kept away from all the fighting because it’s ‘too dangerous for me and I don’t want you to be injured’. Ah! Stupid... man! Who does he think I am? A fragile damsel in distress? Please! He got captured by the Decepticons at least thrice more than me!”

 

Another person entered by the other door, looking quite crossed.

 

“So I glitched and fell for Starscream’s stupid plan and almost killed Prime and some of my best friends and almost managed to die in the process and now I ‘should take a few days off to relax and see Ratchet everyday so he can check on me’. And he locked me out of the Security Room! What am I exactly? A sparkling?”

 

The two disgruntled people stopped in their rant and glanced at each others.

 

“Spike?” asked Red Alert.

 

Carly nodded before speaking. “Yeah. And you? Inferno?”

 

“Slagger doesn’t trust me anymore to do my job correctly,” grumbled Red Alert, arms crossed over his chest. “Doesn’t he understand anything? I don’t need to stop working, I need him to be here with me and reassuring me if he wants to, but does he know that? No! And I can’t even explain myself because although I’m not on duty for the next few weeks, he is and never have the time to be with me. And when we could be together, Decepticons keep attacking and he goes fighting and I’m never sure if I’m going to see him again!” His horns began to sparkle again.

 

Carly looked carefully at Red Alert with a frown. Well, looked like the Lamborghini wasn’t as fine as he wanted the others to believe. Well, since he spoke to her and nobody else was here, there was only one thing she could do.

 

She sat cross-legged. on the bare floor. “I know I’m not the best person for that, and I know my own morale isn’t exactly up right now, but... Need some moral support?” she asked, patting the ground next to her.

 

Red Alert hesitated, than let himself sink on the floor next to her. “I... guess it wouldn’t be too bad,” he mumbled softly.

Carly just smiled.