literature

Doom Tentacles +Other Glitches

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Literature Text

A/N: This is just me spewing about fanfiction, in which all of the atrocities mentioned actually exist. As always, this vent is not to be taken seriously!

I don't think it needs the Mature Content warning, but be advised that there is some passing reference to adult content in this one.

Doom Tentacles, and Other Glitches

"You SICK FRAGGER!" Optimus charges through the door without waiting for such niceties as locks and hinges.

Megatron looks up just in time to meet a flying fist head-on, as it were. Shaking his head like a maddened bull ickyak, he spits a broken dental to one side, and surges to his feet. "What the- ooof!- slag is your problem?"

"Frenzy? Are you serious? That is depraved even for you!" Prime's fists are still flying, as he bears the Decepticon to the floor. "You and your 'I wouldn't know an overload from a kick in the face' act-!"

"Which is this, then?" Megatron asks nastily.

Optimus scrambles off of him then, acutely embarrassed. Megatron shoves him roughly aside. "Now," he growls dangerously, "What exactly are you blabbering about?"

"I found it in Chromia's files," Prime snarls, in control of his fists now, but just barely. "Frenzy is young, small, and more importantly, far inferior to you in rank. You should never have propositioned him. It's just... just sick! And I'm not even going to get into the matter of killing off all your accidental sparklings!" His anger blazes again. "How could you? And what's more, why didn't I know anything about this until now?"

"Optimus." Megatron's voice is icy. "Have you been reading fan fiction again?"

"This was in Chromia's files." Optimus reiterates. "It must be true!"

Megatron sighs. "We've been over this before," he reminds Prime with infinite patience. He's learned a lot about patience lately, through forced practical application. "Just because it has one of our names listed as the author, doesn't mean it's real. The fleshies steal our designations on a disturbingly regular basis."

"But what about that time you... you..." Unable to finish that sentence, he blurts out, "I felt that in my body! How can it not be real?"

Megatron rubs at his optics. The dull ache in his processor is starting up again. "Just because your glitching CPU believes that everything it reads is real doesn't make it so!

"And stop whining to me about rape," he adds. "You're not nearly so pure as you'd like us to believe." He leans in, grinning evilly. "Sssstarscream..."

"I did not!" Prime remonstrates defensively.

"'Was this how you did it, Megatron?'" The Decepticon taunts gleefully. His voice, set mockingly high, erupts in a melodramatic wail. "'You hurted my true looove! Now I shall hurted youuu!'"

Optimus's arms are crossed over his chest. "Hey, even I knew that one was pure smeltings. I'm not that stupid."

Megatron just looks at him. He slowly raises one optic ridge.

Prime shoves him away. "You were the one with the fleshie strap-on," he accuses. "There I was, on my back, thinking, 'This is -ow!- the most ridiculous thing -ow!- I've ever seen!' It seems like a counter-productive strategy, to set out to humiliate me that way, when you end up being the one who looks like a complete wacko-idiot." He snorts. "Like you'd ever imitate the 'Earth-germs' you hate so strongly in any way, much less that one!" Nevertheless, he gives a residual shudder. "Bluuuuuuuhh..."

"How articulate," sneers Megatron. He steps in close. "Sometimes, though," he whispers, leering, "You like it." He adopts the high, fluting voice again. "Oh Ironhide, you're such a good, strong mech! Touch me there!" He snorts. "Your side-struts are your erogenous zones?" He peers appraisingly at Prime. "You don't even have side-struts!"

Optimus shrugs. "Hey, it was movie-verse," he says, secretly hoping to deflect this particular conversation. "Struts everywhere. Maybe that's the problem. Those and claws. Fragging claws..." Suddenly he grins. "I think I've just made a vital scientific discovery! Struts are the root of all questionable interactions!" He looks down at himself, then across at Megatron. "We should be OK. We've only got a few accessible joints."

He lifts a foot into the air, and adopting Megatron's high-pitched voice, and wheedles, "Oh Megatron, touch my knee! You know you do it for me, you big burly hunk of mech!" Megatron backs off speedily. "No? How about my elbow then?" Prime presses, before breaking into helpless laughter. "You really ought to see your face right now, " he says. "It's pretty priceless. In fact, I think I'll upload it to the internet... He flips open his communicator, mumbling, "Megatron... on being... propositioned... by...hurk!-"

He doesn't get any farther. Megatron rushes at him, snarling, and knocks him to the floor. They roll around for a bit, punching each other. A few fangirls show up to take pictures. Megatron kicks out at them whenever he gets a toe free, but Prime doesn't seem to care. "You want a really good picture?" he asks, sounding dangerously fey.

Megatron knows that particular tone. "No... No-no-no-no-NO-!"

There's a horrible, nails-on-chalkboard squeal of metal against metal, as Optimus smashes his faceplates against Megatron's. "Mmmmmm-WAH!"

He shrugs apologetically to the assembled fangirls. "You see, it doesn't really work," he tells them, as Megatron, looking murderous, grips his neck with throttling fingers. Optimus lands a sharp elbow in the Decepticon's midsection, loosening his grip. "C'mon, Megs," he says amicably, standing up with a grunt of effort, and holding out a hand. "Let's go."

"For the last time, will you stop calling me that!" Megatron's rage is unabated. He stands up too, glowering, and does his best to loom threateningly. "Do you seriously think that you can bust in here, knock me down, accuse me of all sorts of disgusting things I've never even contemplated... it's a short list, I know, but you seem to keep finding them-" He grins in momentary pride in his evil-badaftitude, then shakes himself, resuming his tirade of righteous indignation. "You humiliate me... And now you think I'll just walk out of here with you like nothing happened?"

Optimus cocks his head thoughtfully. Then, "Yup," he replies simply. "Pretty much!"

"Oh. Huh." The Decepticon thinks for a moment. Then, "OK," he says.

They walk out the broken doorway together, and out into the hall. Unable to resist a last word, Prime nudges Megatron. "So, did it really feel that good to grab Sam's flesh?" he whispers, grinning.

Megatron rolls his optical sensors. "Movieverse," he replies with a glum shrug.
I've had this thing sitting around on Eff-Eff-dot-Net for a while now. But I thought I'd inflict it upon you all, too. It's funny; it's loony; it doesn't farm; and I don't care. Secretly, I love this thing to scrap.
© 2010 - 2024 Ha-HeePrime
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Sanzosgun's avatar
Our beloved fandom contains many strange things, but sparklings? No. Just no. I cannot deal with the complete illogic of that. Transformers are built and given a spark by Primus/Vector Sigma/the Matrix. THERE ARE NO ROBO-FETUSES!!!

...sorry.

Are there really Megatron x Frenzy fics out there?