[IDW] Tough Break
Apr. 30th, 2021 09:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Tough Break
Universe: Pre-canon MTMTE, Canon AU
Characters: The Decepticon Justice Division, Optimus Prime
Rating: NC-17
Description: Primus must be on Tarn’s side, because here was Optimus Prime, alone and ripe for the taking.
For Jeegoo
What extraordinary luck.
Optimus Prime. Alone. Ripe for the taking, and take Tarn had.
A few well-placed shots from the Peaceful Tyranny took out both engines, and it was a simple matter to scoop the single-occupant ship into the cargo bay. Optimus Prime emerged ready to fight, but one Optimus Prime was no match for the full might of the Decepticon Justice Division.
Decades of seeking this mech and here he had wandered into their path without a care in the world. Truly, Primus was on Tarn’s side.
“The war is over, Tarn,” Optimus Prime said, and even kneeling before Tarn, arms cuffed behind his back, energon dribbling from a few opportune blows, disarmed and beaten, he tried to be a voice of authority. “I am Optimus Prime no longer.”
Tarn lifted a hand, and Kaon placed a datapad into it. “This informs me otherwise,” he said, gesturing with the datapad.
Every scrap of information the Decepticons had on Optimus Prime was fed into this datapad. Kaon had painstakingly matched every detail to what Soundwave had accumulated over the centuries. There was no doubt in Tarn’s mind, this was Optimus Prime.
He could call himself whatever he liked, but he was Optimus Prime.
“Can we kill him now?” Tesarus asked, his left hand bearing down on the Prime’s shoulder, the spinning blades of his grinder quietly whirring as they cycled into readiness.
Helex’s cauldron bubbled, waves of heat emanating around him as his right hand clenched, crumpling the armor of the Prime’s other shoulder. “I get the scraps, right?”
“Gentlemechs,” Tarn purred, hitting the right frequency to make Optimus Prime shudder, to make his engine squeal a distressed pitch before Tarn dialed it back. “Let’s not be too hasty. We have an extraordinary opportunity here, do we not?”
“We only get to kill him once,” Kaon agreed. He all but vibrated beside Tarn, little arcs of electricity passing between his coils.
Vos said nothing, but he stared at Optimus Prime, and sometimes, a stare without words could be unsettling enough. He stroked the edges of his faceplate, and stared at Optimus Prime, one finger teasing beneath the edge.
“You can kill him when I am done with him,” Tarn said.
His own spark quivered with excitement. He hardly knew where to begin. Optimus Prime would die, oh yes, but Tarn had spent decades dreaming of this very moment. Truly, the Prime’s only competition in Tarn’s headspace would be Starscream or that traitor Deadlock.
“Megatron is dead, Tarn,” Optimus Prime said, as though such a thing might save him. “There is no need for this.”
Tarn chuckled. “Lord Megatron is not dead, because Lord Megatron cannot die. He will rise again, I can assure you.” He stepped closer to the bound Prime and grasped Optimus’ chin, tilting his head up.
He rather enjoyed being able to look down on Optimus Prime.
This mech who had so captivated Lord Megatron, who had defied Lord Megatron time and time again, who did not deserve to occupy so much of Lord Megatron’s processor, and yet did so anyway. This was where he belonged, at the feet of Lord Megatron’s most loyal Decepticons.
“The Decepticon Cause lives and will always live, despite the threat you are to our glory,” Tarn said before he curled his claws in the edges of the Prime’s battle mask and yanked.
It tore free, crumpling in his grip, and Tarn looked down at the pathetic piece of metal. A souvenir, perhaps. Proof he could present to Lord Megatron that his foe and distraction had been disposed of, and Cybertron -- no, the universe -- was now his for the taking.
The Prime jerked, letting slip the tiniest of grunts. Of course, it would take much, much more than a little pain to get Lord Megatron’s greatest rival to react.
Tarn scraped at the torn edges of the Prime’s mask-mount with the tip of his claw. “We are going to have so much fun,” he purred, perfectly tuned to send Optimus’ spark into spasms of distress.
Optimus writhed; Tarn inwardly reveled in it.
There wouldn’t be much left of Optimus Prime in the end.
Perhaps then Lord Megatron would finally see the Prime for the useless, pathetic scrap of a mech he was.
***
Universe: Pre-canon MTMTE, Canon AU
Characters: The Decepticon Justice Division, Optimus Prime
Rating: NC-17
Description: Primus must be on Tarn’s side, because here was Optimus Prime, alone and ripe for the taking.
For Jeegoo
What extraordinary luck.
Optimus Prime. Alone. Ripe for the taking, and take Tarn had.
A few well-placed shots from the Peaceful Tyranny took out both engines, and it was a simple matter to scoop the single-occupant ship into the cargo bay. Optimus Prime emerged ready to fight, but one Optimus Prime was no match for the full might of the Decepticon Justice Division.
Decades of seeking this mech and here he had wandered into their path without a care in the world. Truly, Primus was on Tarn’s side.
“The war is over, Tarn,” Optimus Prime said, and even kneeling before Tarn, arms cuffed behind his back, energon dribbling from a few opportune blows, disarmed and beaten, he tried to be a voice of authority. “I am Optimus Prime no longer.”
Tarn lifted a hand, and Kaon placed a datapad into it. “This informs me otherwise,” he said, gesturing with the datapad.
Every scrap of information the Decepticons had on Optimus Prime was fed into this datapad. Kaon had painstakingly matched every detail to what Soundwave had accumulated over the centuries. There was no doubt in Tarn’s mind, this was Optimus Prime.
He could call himself whatever he liked, but he was Optimus Prime.
“Can we kill him now?” Tesarus asked, his left hand bearing down on the Prime’s shoulder, the spinning blades of his grinder quietly whirring as they cycled into readiness.
Helex’s cauldron bubbled, waves of heat emanating around him as his right hand clenched, crumpling the armor of the Prime’s other shoulder. “I get the scraps, right?”
“Gentlemechs,” Tarn purred, hitting the right frequency to make Optimus Prime shudder, to make his engine squeal a distressed pitch before Tarn dialed it back. “Let’s not be too hasty. We have an extraordinary opportunity here, do we not?”
“We only get to kill him once,” Kaon agreed. He all but vibrated beside Tarn, little arcs of electricity passing between his coils.
Vos said nothing, but he stared at Optimus Prime, and sometimes, a stare without words could be unsettling enough. He stroked the edges of his faceplate, and stared at Optimus Prime, one finger teasing beneath the edge.
“You can kill him when I am done with him,” Tarn said.
His own spark quivered with excitement. He hardly knew where to begin. Optimus Prime would die, oh yes, but Tarn had spent decades dreaming of this very moment. Truly, the Prime’s only competition in Tarn’s headspace would be Starscream or that traitor Deadlock.
“Megatron is dead, Tarn,” Optimus Prime said, as though such a thing might save him. “There is no need for this.”
Tarn chuckled. “Lord Megatron is not dead, because Lord Megatron cannot die. He will rise again, I can assure you.” He stepped closer to the bound Prime and grasped Optimus’ chin, tilting his head up.
He rather enjoyed being able to look down on Optimus Prime.
This mech who had so captivated Lord Megatron, who had defied Lord Megatron time and time again, who did not deserve to occupy so much of Lord Megatron’s processor, and yet did so anyway. This was where he belonged, at the feet of Lord Megatron’s most loyal Decepticons.
“The Decepticon Cause lives and will always live, despite the threat you are to our glory,” Tarn said before he curled his claws in the edges of the Prime’s battle mask and yanked.
It tore free, crumpling in his grip, and Tarn looked down at the pathetic piece of metal. A souvenir, perhaps. Proof he could present to Lord Megatron that his foe and distraction had been disposed of, and Cybertron -- no, the universe -- was now his for the taking.
The Prime jerked, letting slip the tiniest of grunts. Of course, it would take much, much more than a little pain to get Lord Megatron’s greatest rival to react.
Tarn scraped at the torn edges of the Prime’s mask-mount with the tip of his claw. “We are going to have so much fun,” he purred, perfectly tuned to send Optimus’ spark into spasms of distress.
Optimus writhed; Tarn inwardly reveled in it.
There wouldn’t be much left of Optimus Prime in the end.
Perhaps then Lord Megatron would finally see the Prime for the useless, pathetic scrap of a mech he was.
