Onslaught's Awesome Day, part 1 of 24: 12 midnight
Title: Onslaught’s Awesome Day: 12 midnight
Continuity: G1, Decepticam AU
Rating: PG-13
Content advice: a bit of combat training
Characters and/or pairings: Onslaught, Starscream
Summary: The first instalment of 24 ficlets detailing a day in the life of the Combaticon commander.
Clicky for the prompt post
This one was written to this prompt from eerian_sadow, 'waking up with Starscream'.
Onslaught awoke to a face full of cockpit.
His battle mask scraped on amber glass, pitted and scarred and set in equally rough white and red metal. He groaned; that last collision must have knocked him out.
“I do believe,” Starscream said, hoisting himself up on one hand, his smirk altogether too obnoxious this close. “That round goes to me.”
Just like all the other rounds, Onslaught thought. Because if they didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. And if there was one thing he could happily go his entire life without hearing again, it was Starscream’s voice.
“No need to gloat,” he said quietly. He was meant to be on duty; planning, strategising, keeping those idiot glitches of his in line. But Starscream had needed a grounder to train with. Or more accurately to fire at, bulldoze into and generally harass. And Onslaught had been in the right place at the wrong time.
Actually, that pretty much summed up his life. Ever since things went bad back on Cybertron. Now there was a depressing thought.
Onslaught flexed his faceplates while the jet made a good show of pretending not to listen. His battle mask wiggled, and energon seeped into the corner of his mouth.
“You done?” he said, and hauled himself to his feet.
“Done?” Starscream screeched. “Of course I’m not done. Now get back on the marker, I want to perfect my strafing run.”
Onslaught didn’t reply, but moved to the white cross painted on the floor.
Continuity: G1, Decepticam AU
Rating: PG-13
Content advice: a bit of combat training
Characters and/or pairings: Onslaught, Starscream
Summary: The first instalment of 24 ficlets detailing a day in the life of the Combaticon commander.
Clicky for the prompt post
This one was written to this prompt from eerian_sadow, 'waking up with Starscream'.
Onslaught awoke to a face full of cockpit.
His battle mask scraped on amber glass, pitted and scarred and set in equally rough white and red metal. He groaned; that last collision must have knocked him out.
“I do believe,” Starscream said, hoisting himself up on one hand, his smirk altogether too obnoxious this close. “That round goes to me.”
Just like all the other rounds, Onslaught thought. Because if they didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. And if there was one thing he could happily go his entire life without hearing again, it was Starscream’s voice.
“No need to gloat,” he said quietly. He was meant to be on duty; planning, strategising, keeping those idiot glitches of his in line. But Starscream had needed a grounder to train with. Or more accurately to fire at, bulldoze into and generally harass. And Onslaught had been in the right place at the wrong time.
Actually, that pretty much summed up his life. Ever since things went bad back on Cybertron. Now there was a depressing thought.
Onslaught flexed his faceplates while the jet made a good show of pretending not to listen. His battle mask wiggled, and energon seeped into the corner of his mouth.
“You done?” he said, and hauled himself to his feet.
“Done?” Starscream screeched. “Of course I’m not done. Now get back on the marker, I want to perfect my strafing run.”
Onslaught didn’t reply, but moved to the white cross painted on the floor.