Angels and Obsessed Minibots
Feb. 6th, 2010 01:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ayngelcatTitle: FALLEN ANGELS
‘Verse: G1
Series: Start of first series cartoon
Rating: NC17
Characters/Pairings: Starscream and Mirage, eventually. Others.
I've had this one in my head for ages. It's a different universe from Forbidden Fantasies and a more complex and darker story. It is set in the G1 cartoon universe right at the start. The Autobots have survived being blasted by Starscream, who has been castigated my Megatron (his lover/partner in this) for doing so. he despairs about how things are going to go on Earth, but Mirage approaches him with an interesting proposition from which they both can benefit.
It takes a while for Raj and Starz to realize there is more between them than a mutually beneficial arrangement but there is plenty of smexual tension and angst along the way. This story also runs parallel with Obsession - Cliffjumper's growing infatuation with Mirage, in conplete ignorance of his activities and past. http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5696951/1/Obsession
Chapter 1: Beginnings
Recollections of Starscream, Autobot Elite Aerial Commander, first night on Earth, 1984.
I remember the first night on Earth with crystal clarity.
There was no moon. The wind moaned eerily across the desert plain, winding between the rocks, reminding and yet not reminding me of the Iron Hills on Cybertron. Sounds which never would have been heard on our home planet rose above it: the rushing and cracking of old, gnarled trees and the occasional cry of Earth creatures. Above, a canopy of stars shone against an inky backdrop. Outlined against it, the scaffolding we had hastily erected for the space cruiser clanked as it swayed precariously.
I lay on my back, away from the others, red and blue wings flattened behind, feeling the gravel harsh against my smooth metal, staring at the starry display, and feeling unutterably sorry for myself.
Lying on my back was the only way I could be comfortable. It was to do with the fact that various bits of me would not have taken kindly to being pressed against the ground. My energon processing chamber, for instance, was still reconfiguring after having a fist slammed into it; my left wing edge - made rough use of to haul me to my feet - throbbed where my self repair systems attempted to fix the dents. My shoulders ached where my arms had been twisted behind my back, and all down my front – including on my face - were dints and grazes, testament to being slammed into the nearby rock face.
I would mostly self fix by sunrise. Mostly. But that did not help me right now.
From over by the rocks, a loud snore added itself to the repertoire of other sounds, and I grimaced. Megatron was evidently having no trouble recharging, despite his earlier exertions on my behalf. He had, I thought bitterly, wasted no time in showing his “displeasure” - publicly – even though my firing on the Ark was a perfectly logical act. The logic, of course, was irrelevant. Far more important was the establishment, right at the outset, that any recalcitrant outbursts – especially by me – would be dealt with in the harshest of manners.
I shifted around and tried to find a way of avoiding the hundred or so stones which seemed to be sticking in my aft. The wind moaned again and from the bushes nearby came a rustling and squawking, followed by a flapping sound as something took off into the night.
Flinching, I hauled myself to a sitting position and performed a quick scan. Infra red revealed nothing unusual; the bodies of the others were in their usual base camp locations. Faintly above the wind I heard the voices of my wingmates in soft conversation and a squeak which sounded like a cassette. A faint sweet aroma – vaguely familiar - grazed my olfactory sensors, but it was too indistinct for concern.
I lay stiffly back down, thinking that perhaps I should not panic like that. Ravage was out there patrolling, after all, a crazy glitch, but highly adept at dealing with unwelcome guests. Nevertheless I thought, readjusting myself, we should be more vigilant. I knew from my time before – that which hadn’t been spent looking for Skyfire – that with its weather and wild landscapes and strange creatures this planet was far from benign.
Megatron, however, had dismissed my reports. Fanciful rubbish, he’d said. And now he’d forgotten I’d even said I’d been here!
My gaze went to the scaffolding swaying high above. These were strange, untested metals, and this was a dense atmosphere, making the prospective spacecruiser liftoff risky at best. Anything could happen. This was what I meant about vigilance! Well more fool Megtron, I thought. Let him cause a damned catastrophe! Since he so insisted on deciding everything.
Of course, when it screwed up he would try and say I’d failed to provide the information. That I hadn’t told him about the trip. But I would see that everyone knew otherwise!
There was another snore and my spark lurched in bitterness. I had about as much chance of the others believing me on that score – or admitting they believed me - I knew, as getting back to Cybertron again without a space cruiser. I stole a glance at his slumbering bulk. The snores were now light and regular. Why could he always recharge so easily?
My chamber lurched and my face hurt and my left shoulder throbbed. I thought how unfortunate it would be if some unspeakable fate befell him whilst he recharged. I don’t know everyone – the creature moved too fast – I didn’t quite catch what it was! But it was sheer fantasy, I knew. If I attempted anything – the slightest thing - then I would not even make it half way before one of Soundwave’s lackies had me pinned to the ground.
I turned my attention to the star studded sky and tried to relax. Cybertron was out there somewhere and hopefully we would be headed back there soon. I allowed my mind to wnder a little. Perhaps things would be better! Maybe if the Autobots were out of the way ....
As if, I thought bitterly again. I recalled my leader and lover's words prior to our departure. “You're special to me Starscream ...... it’s been hard ..... but we’ll make a fresh start … .”
What a joke! It had taken less than a cycle for everything to be exactly the way it had been for the last few million vorns. And it would make no difference whether the Autobots were around or not! Besides which, I reflected, they would be. I had not gotten a chance to do that much damage. Megatron knew it too. The momentary horror at the thought that Optimus Prime – his sparklinghood hero-brother - might be dead was as much a reason for my painful predicament as the questioning of his rule. The fact that Prime almost certainly wasn’t was one of the reasons he was recharging so deeply now.
I thought of the others’ faces today. The little display was nothing new. Nor, in fact, were the reasons for it – although nobody would dare admit it.
The wind moaned, picking up sand which hissed in a fine spray against my side, uncomfortably seeping into crevices. Immediately I felt a thousand microshutters close and secrete tiny drops of moisture which washed the foreign objects out. The aroma of body fluids rose softly. How uncouth this place was! At least the agenda was to get out; there was that, if nothing else, I supposed. The moisture cooled on my surfaces and I felt a little more relaxed.
I could not help but ponder. Could I do something about him down here? I knew my wingmates thought I could. Many Seekers wanted me too, even. Didn’t understand why I didn’t just do it. Others back on Cybertron thought Megatron past it, outmoded in his views of the universe and embarrassing and as for the Autobots – well he was a laughing stock. Made worse by Prime’s patronising attentions.
The wind had dropped a little and the snoring was softer. Above, the stars shone very bright. I stared at them, and even as I had these thoughts there was a pain in my spark. Do something about him. How hard that prospect was! And it was not the physical damage or pain, or even the public humiliation which made it so.
Now, as I lay there in that alien Earth desert, with all the aspirations I may ever or never have had being so far away, I admitted the truth. That worse than anything, by far, was the prospect of losing him and him hating me forever. You see, I did not want it to be like this! I would much rather have been curled up over there with him now, his lips on mine, telling me he loved me before he slid his spike softly inside. For all that he had done, I was still attracted to him. I still loved him! And I didn’t want to be his enemy. I just wanted him to love me.
This was what they could not understand, and what I could not explain. Annoyed with myself for my pathetic weakness, I felt tears prick my optics.
The pain and intensity of those thoughts must have made me begin to drift off. And I must have nearly succeeded! For when I first heard the voice, I thought it was an early recharge vision.
“Starscream....”
It was barely audible above the sound of the wind, into which it seemed to blend melodiously. I think I ignored it for a few clicks. But then it was louder, and I became aware of that aromatic scent, back with undeniable pungency. As my sensors registered this, there was the lightest touch to my shoulder and I felt myself ever so gently shaken.
Everything exploded into reaction mode. Despite the pain I was on my feet in an instant and casting around with the null ray canon. There was the slightest sound of movement in the gravel. “Show yourself!” I hissed. Just as Megatron let out an almighty snore and turned over.
“Ssssh Starscream be quiet! I’m sorry I startled you …” I felt a hand on my arm. I jerked away, still casting around. But the voice said: “Put the gun down. I’m not going to hurt you.”
The voice was soft and somehow calming, despite its urgency. And now I recognised it as belonging unquestionably to a part of Cybertron from whence hailed those once unaccustomed to mixing with the common rabble.
I lowered the gun. I should, perhaps, have been more surprised than I was upon recognising the voice’s owner. He was not supposed to have been on the Ark, and was, indeed, not supposed to be alive at all. He had died at Tyger Pax, or so it had been said. He had, however, a strange habit of coming out of the woodwork in the wake of such tales and being very much alive and perfectly all right. I had become accustomed, over the vorns, to him cropping up impossibly. Now, in realisation that he had merely done this one more time, I relaxed.
“Mirage,” I said.
“Hello Starscream,” he said. “Please. Put that gun away. We need to talk.”
I stole a quick glance around. There was no sign of Soundwave, or the Cat, or any of the cassettes. But Megatron was restless now. He turned over and muttered something which sounded like “We’ll see, Prime ..”
“We can’t talk here!” I whispered, not knowing whether I was directing the comment towards him, but knowing that was no problem for his keen sensors.
“Obviously!” he hissed, close, but impossible to pinpoint.
“Where?” I tried not to look immediately around me even though when illusors are present it is almost impossible not to do that. I tried instead to appear as though - if anyone else were looking – that I had got up to stretch in the night air and was talking to myself. That was, after all, something I was not unknown to do.
“There’s a place just north of here where water flows over some large rocks into a pool!” he said.
I had seen it from the air earlier when we did our first reconnaissance. “I know it …” I whispered.
“Meet me there in two thousand astroseconds!” he said.
The wind blew in a sudden gentle gust. The trees creaked again and there was just the faintest sound of footfalls departing on the gravel, and the waft of that sweet scent. Over by the rocks, Megatron’s intakes sighed softly. He had settled.
I stood there for a moment beneath the stars, taking in the Earth night. Here we go, I thought.
oooooooooooo
Thundercracker: First night on Earth, 1984.
Warp moaned softly underneath me as I extended my spike deep into him, the walls of his port closing snugly around it as it struck the interface contact node at the far reaches. He jerked. Energy sparked off the node and swept up the length of my spike and into my circuits, firing my energy levels and making me grunt and bear down harder. He moaned and thrust upward and the node sparked again and we both jerked with pleasure this time.
I let out a long moan. Ah, but I needed this! It was a while since we had done it and I so needed a release. I could barely contain the urge to force full nodal contact and start thrusting in hard rhythmic pulses so that the rapid energy buildup would climax us into overload as soon as possible. But although my spike felt huge and fantastic inside him, and my body was starting to seethe in the agony-ecstasy of pre release, the connection was not quite there yet. I hesitated, conscious of the orders about silence in the camp. Megatron’s performance over Starscream earlier did not make me inclined to countermand them.
My spike tip sparked off the node again and I arched up and thrust in hard, stifling a cry of frustration. I was so close – once the connection was there, it would happen almost immediately. If only I could really hammer that node hard! And if only Warp would stop shifting so that the damned thing moved out of contact. This was part his fault! As he did this for about the fifth time, causing my spike to spasm in frustration so I lost the edge slightly, I lost patience also and, pushing up on my arms, pulled out my spike and rolled off him to lie on my back.
“What,” I said through gritted plates, is your damned problem?”
My spike extended to the heavens, rigid and pulsing and my circuits buzzed with undischarged, pent up energy; I tried to intake deeply, to dispel the raging heat which was suddenly all through me. Little beads of coolant seeped through thousands of tiny pores on to my surfaces, cold suddenly in the night wind as the stars burned in the canopy above.
My wingmate let out a huge sigh and rearranged himself on his back. “Sorry TC,” he said. “I guess I’m just – not really into it. It’s this place,” he added. “It’s er – weird. And Starscream might hear us.”
I knew damned well that wasn’t the reason! When Warp was in the mood he would do it – indeed was urgent in his demands to do it – just about anywhere. And Starscream wouldn’t be bothered. The only reaction that might inspire, given Megatron’s obvious failure to perform tonight, was the extraction of his own spike.
I felt the energon draining from the conduits to my spike and it starting to retract into its casing. Angry now, I decided to come straight to the point. “He’s not dead Warp!” I snarled.
He didn’t answer, but I felt him tense. He would, of course, go all silent now. But I would make him talk.
“He is your enemy you know!” I growled.
“Was my enemy ..” He stared at the stars.
“Look,” I said rolling on my side and propping myself up to look at him. “I was watching that mountain and it hardly moved. Lotta rubble and dust and smoke. But I really don’t think the shots did a lotta damage,” and when he still maintained the same brooding silence I said “Kell, Warp! The Ark is made of solid titanium.!”
He shuttered his optics, ignoring the question. “It’s a tomb!” He proclaimed. “A terrible, horrible tomb! He’ll be stuck in there forever and never see the light of day. He hates being couped up! I’d rather he’d been blown to bits at Typer Pax!”
I rolled back on my back again and shuttered my optics, conscious of the hardness of the ground. I did not believe for one minute that Sunstreaker, or his twin - or any of the rest of the Autobots for that matter - would not find a way to survive. Prime was far too clever and Ratchet was far too good a medic. Painfully aware of the now complete diminution of my arousal, I tried to be all calm and not go completely ballistic about this.
Not just about his illogicality. Also about the fact that when the Autoclowns reactivated – as they surely would –the game of hide and seek with the illustrious golden twin would to fire up all over again. Along with all the melodrama. The rows, the silences, the stormings off, the not talkings, the ridiculous showdowns off the battlefield which far exceeded any genuine combat efforts which might be taking place on it and the late darkcycle calls from his twin: “you tell that pitspawned glitch to leave my brother alone or he’s fraggin dead …” All that.
“Warp,” I said, “he will survive. You mark my words! But don’t you need to think about this? Primus alone knows what’s gonna happen here. There’s only a few of us. You and he won’t be able to blend among the fighting masses. You’ll never keep it from Soundwave and he’ll never keep it from Jazz.’
“Soundwave knows,” he said, “and Jazz doesn’t care …” he gave a snort. “I mean “didn’t care.” He sniffed. “Answer me this! If Prime didn’t die, what was Megatron so damned fritzed about?”
I moved over to face him again. “Because Starscream dared to do it,” I said more gently. “It’s the same old stuff, Warp – you know that! Neither of us really expected any different did we?”
He looked at me, his optics glowing crimson, defiant in his beautiful face. I felt the energon oozing to my spike conduits again and it stirred in the casing. I didn’t actually mind him having other lovers. And Sunstreaker was undeniably pleasing to look at. “He can’t be dead,” I said. “I like watching him frag you too much.”
He seemed to lighten. He turned to look at me, propping himself up on his elbow. “You really think he’s OK then?” He was all fine lines and beauty and, my spike emerging again, I realized I was still badly in need of an overload. “Yes,” I said. “I think he’s OK.”
He smiled. “I feel more like fragging now!” he said. He reached out and traced the seam around the edge of my cockpit canopy with one finger, running it down and across the top of my spike recess. It was all it took. My spike slid out the rest of the way, raring to go.
“Thank Primus …” I muttered, and went to get on top of him.
“No,” he whispered. “I’ll ride you ..”
Oooooooooo
We manoeuvred quickly in the gravel. But we did not get far. I was about to lower the warm recess of his port back on to my throbbing spike – that relief ready cavern from which it had been so cruelly extracted – and feeling Warps spike pressed against my thigh and noting, with excitement, that he was well and truly into it this time, when there was the sound of approaching feet on the gravel. “Oh pit!” muttered Warp. I looked up to see a familiar winged form approaching.
Warp froze. My spike strained to get where it needed to go; just above, the port was tantalizingly inviting. For a moment, the intense need to just pull him down and thrust into him regardless warred with the consequences I could expect if I continued to frag. But this was Starscream. I pushed Warp to one side and sat up, ignoring his curses.
“Thundercracker!” said Starscream, drawing to a halt. “Much as it pains me to break up this little nest of passion,” his optics slid over us, taking in the aroused state of our spikes. “I need a word.”
Warp had stood up. “Can’t it wait!” he snarled, turning his back to us. He moved with the stiffness of frustration.
“No it can’t” said Starscream, unabashed. “And if you can’t then there are other ways of dealing with the situation which don’t necessitate Thundercracker’s presence, are there not?” He turned to me. “Now if you please, Thundercracker!” his voice grew sharper. “You have thirty astroseconds in which to compose yourself. I shall be over there.” He limped away into the starlit night. My spark twitched then, and the energy flow shifted from my spike once more, but in a different way this time.
“Fraggin’ afthole!” We should just do it anyway!”
I was still looking at his receding form “Cool it Warp,” I said. “he’s not in a good way. After today.”
“It’s his own damned fault,” Warp growled. “Primus! And you whinge about Sunny!”
I turned angrily back to him. “That’s different and you know it!” I hissed. “Now wait for me!”
“No guarantees!” he hissed back.
oooooooooooo
I looked at his winged form, wingtips glinting a faint silver in the starlight. Although my spike still throbbed in its casing and my circuits now ached from a second round of undischarged energy buildup, this was overridden by the ache in my spark which was always there when Starscream was in pain.
His optics glowed in the darkness, irritable. “I am going to need your support here!” he said. “Not have you two too busy fragging to notice when I give you an order!” There was a touch of jealousy and I felt a slight thrill. I would, of course, love to be doing that with him. Even though it was impossible.
“Well it is darkcycle and we are supposed to be recharging.” I said gently. “Or doing – things which may help us recharge! What do you want?”
He looked at me disdainfully. “I have to do a little reconnaissance …”
My spark sank. The Trine programming required that I caution him when he was undertaking anything which could lead to his harm. But I had lost count of the number of cautions I had made since the start of the war - most of which had been completely ignored. “Why?” I asked. “Soundwave’s got Ravage and Lazerbeak out there doing a sweep. You know what’ll happen if you invent your own agenda.”
It was, as usual, obvious that he’d made up his mind. “Most of that lot can’t sense anything!” he snapped. “Some dangers can only be perceived by higher order and more sensitive mechanisms. There’s something I need to check out!”
I sighed. I knew it was useless to argue but I just wished he would avoid setting up these situations which inevitably led to only one conclusion.
“I want you to keep a lookout here in the camp” he was saying. “If Megatron wants to know, tell him I couldn’t recharge and I’ve gone for a walk. Or something. I’m deactivating the com.”
I gave him a long, hard look “be careful!” I said, feeling a sense of dread. A wave of desperate caring swept through me, as painful in its intensity as resisting Warp had been just a short time earlier.
As usual it passed completely unnoticed.
oooooooooo
I watched as he diminished into the night, his wings still glinting faintly. He was on a highway to nowhere, I thought. He did not have to be. Many admired him, and it was not beyond him to lead the Decepticons. If only he had more faith in his capabilities. But he wouldn’t do anything about the situation – this thing with Megatron would worsen, and what had happened today would happen again. Or worse. My spark burned painfully at the thought.
“TC?”
Skywarp had come up beside me, and was watching him go. “What was all that about?” he asked.
I was still staring in the direction our other wingmate had gone. I shook my head. “Stuffed if I know!” I snorted. “You know Starscream …”
“At least with Sunny I don’t act all lovestuck and lose interest in smex everytime he comes on the scene.”
“Optimus Prime hasn’t usually just pulverised Sunny ...”
He put his arm around me and I leaned on to his shoulder, appreciating that strange comfort he could sometimes offer despite his bluff and bravado. Eventually I remembered what we had been up to before and he must have sensed it, because his lips found mine and he pulled me to him, and then across to the rocks.
“This time we aren’t stopping ...,” his hands slid up and down and settled on my emerging spike ".... if Megatron himself comes to investigate."
With a little cry I slid in, so much was the need that it hurt. “Go for it TC” he said, opening wide. The connection fired and in four or five thrusts we stiffened in an overload so intense that the night earth scene became a blackened haze.
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Date: 2010-02-06 08:34 pm (UTC)Awww, Starscream's thoughts are just heart-breaking, I want to give the poor guy a hug so badly. Him still being in love with Megatron despite how he's been treated and being unable to seriously try to despose of him because of this makes me feel so sorry for him. Yet it makes for a very interesting premise... I can't wait to see how this develops!
Very curious that Starscream and Mirage are familiar with another... I'm curious to learn what their backstory is!
*fans herself* The TC/Skywarp smexing was smokin' hot! All three times *lol* I'm so happy that they seem to be happy in this story and I won't have to watch TC being miserable over Warp lusting for an Autobot again (well, I hope). Although it looks like it might be the other way around with Starscream... I do wonder if Skywarp has a reason to be jealous...
Anyway, a great start to the story and I'm looking forward to the next chapter and the Mirage/Starscream meeting!