Cold Flame
Title: Cold Flame
Author: AotA
Rating: K+
Warnings: violence, violent fantasies
Characters: Starscream, Megatron, Hook
Setting: G1
Summary: Something gets jarred loose, and Starscream’s anger transforms from hot, to cold, cold rage.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.
Notes: Written for Prompt #2 “Pushed Again” October 23, 2010, off of tf_speedwriting . I took 22 minutes.
The hand wrapped around his neck was a familiar sensation. When had he grown used to it? When had he allowed himself to become used to being slagged by his own leader due to fits of rage? When had he decided to let himself be used as the favored scapegoat?
A jerk of an arm and a snap had Starscream’s helm impacting the wall of the Nemesis.
The Seeker crumpled to the ground. Starscream had felt oddly disconnected from everything since the first blow of this session but he also felt as though his processers were clearer than ever. When had he begun to think of them as “sessions”? When had they become so predictable that they came like clockwork?
Megatron looked down at the crumpled jet in disdain. Starscream heard him order someone to remove him from the throne room and that Megatron did not with for trash to be left lying about on the deck.
Starscream’s hands slowly clenched. Trash. That is what he thinks? Ungentle hands picked him up just like so much refuse. Trash. Refuse. Scrap. Good for nothing.
Pain from the rough handling combined with his mounting rage, forming a white haze. If he had been able to move, he would have attacked Megatron, injured or not.
No more games, Starscream thought, processes running unusually cold, instead of the normally all consuming burning hot star of anger that fueled his spark.
Starscream wasn’t about to go offline, and that would be Megatron’s mistake.
No more games, Starscream told himself once more, Megatron will fall.
He was dumped unceremoniously on a repair berth and Hook’s face appeared in his line of sight looking unhappy… probably from seeing his last set of repairs to Starscream’s chassis be so quickly and carelessly destroyed.
Starscream’s rage burned coldly. This time, nothing would douse it save for crushing Megatron’s spark chamber in his own hands and bathing in his shed energon.
That, Starscream thought, sounds beautiful.
Hook’s medical overrides dragged him unwillingly into recharge, but his last thoughts were of dismantling the Decepticon commander.
Author: AotA
Rating: K+
Warnings: violence, violent fantasies
Characters: Starscream, Megatron, Hook
Setting: G1
Summary: Something gets jarred loose, and Starscream’s anger transforms from hot, to cold, cold rage.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.
Notes: Written for Prompt #2 “Pushed Again” October 23, 2010, off of tf_speedwriting . I took 22 minutes.
The hand wrapped around his neck was a familiar sensation. When had he grown used to it? When had he allowed himself to become used to being slagged by his own leader due to fits of rage? When had he decided to let himself be used as the favored scapegoat?
A jerk of an arm and a snap had Starscream’s helm impacting the wall of the Nemesis.
The Seeker crumpled to the ground. Starscream had felt oddly disconnected from everything since the first blow of this session but he also felt as though his processers were clearer than ever. When had he begun to think of them as “sessions”? When had they become so predictable that they came like clockwork?
Megatron looked down at the crumpled jet in disdain. Starscream heard him order someone to remove him from the throne room and that Megatron did not with for trash to be left lying about on the deck.
Starscream’s hands slowly clenched. Trash. That is what he thinks? Ungentle hands picked him up just like so much refuse. Trash. Refuse. Scrap. Good for nothing.
Pain from the rough handling combined with his mounting rage, forming a white haze. If he had been able to move, he would have attacked Megatron, injured or not.
No more games, Starscream thought, processes running unusually cold, instead of the normally all consuming burning hot star of anger that fueled his spark.
Starscream wasn’t about to go offline, and that would be Megatron’s mistake.
No more games, Starscream told himself once more, Megatron will fall.
He was dumped unceremoniously on a repair berth and Hook’s face appeared in his line of sight looking unhappy… probably from seeing his last set of repairs to Starscream’s chassis be so quickly and carelessly destroyed.
Starscream’s rage burned coldly. This time, nothing would douse it save for crushing Megatron’s spark chamber in his own hands and bathing in his shed energon.
That, Starscream thought, sounds beautiful.
Hook’s medical overrides dragged him unwillingly into recharge, but his last thoughts were of dismantling the Decepticon commander.