Fic - Sheer Naked Boom
Title: Sheer Naked Boom.
Continuity: G1 cartoon, Dysfunction AU
Rating: PG
Content Advice: mention of slash, hint of gun!kink
Characters and/or pairings: Swindle, Vortex, Onslaught, Brawl, with implied Onslaught/Vortex
Summary: The Combaticons prepare for the invasion of Paradron. Crack inspired by this bit of ‘Fight or Flee’.
Notes: Written for the tf_speedwriting prompt ‘priorities’.
“Hey Tex!” Swindle yelled. “We’re packing for an invasion, not a vacation. I know those words are kinda similar, but they’re not the same.”
On the other side of the hangar, Vortex flipped Swindle one of the many obscene hand gestures he’d learnt on Earth, and went back to inspecting his new toy. His and Onslaught’s new toy, really. Swindle could just about see his commander’s feet sticking out from the maintenance hatch.
Onslaught had dubbed it the Annihilator, and he and Vortex had spent many a happy joor talking about it, looking at it, loading it, unloading it, poking it, prodding it, and probably fragging on top of it if the noises Swindle heard a few nights ago were any indication. It apparently had to be test fired at least once a breem or it’d explode. Or they would. Their sheer ebullient joy was nauseating.
“I want one,” Brawl sighed. His shoulders slumped, and his visor developed what Swindle had come to call his dreamy look. “It’s so… big.”
Swindle shook his head and turned back to his inventory. What was it with military types and big ordnance?
And it wasn’t just big ordnance - they were big ordnance - it was immense machines of questionable value that fired missiles the size of Galvatron with little to no guidance, that lumbered along on treads wider than Blast Off’s aft, that required Bruticus just to shift them from the hangar to the shooting range because they damned well weren’t getting anywhere quickly under their own power. Big machines that were, in Swindle’s rather considerable experience, a lot of flash for your cash, but only in terms of sheer, naked boom.
He could outrun the stupid thing walking backwards.
But the Annihilator had it’s plus points. It kept Vortex busy, for a start. And Onslaught. And that gave him a bit of extra wiggle room with his own plans, provided Blast Off wasn’t looking.
The only downside was that Vortex wanted to take it to Paradron, and Onslaught hadn’t told him no.
As far as Swindle was concerned, a machine like that was good for selling to mechs whose battle lust exceeded their processing power, but not for equipping an invasion force. What Onslaught was thinking, Swindle could only guess. Probably something along the lines of ‘ooooh, shiny’.
There was a clunk as Brawl’s aft hit the floor. He hugged his knees, his cannon barrel inching forwards. Oh great, epic sulk coming on in three… two… one… “Why do they get one and I don’t?!” he wailed.
Swindle glanced over his shoulder. Onslaught had emerged, covered all over in grease, and was pointing something out which Vortex evidently found fascinating. It was a sickening display of team bonding.
“Maybe they’ll let you fire it?” Swindle said, unable to meet Brawl’s gaze. He knew full well they wouldn’t.
Continuity: G1 cartoon, Dysfunction AU
Rating: PG
Content Advice: mention of slash, hint of gun!kink
Characters and/or pairings: Swindle, Vortex, Onslaught, Brawl, with implied Onslaught/Vortex
Summary: The Combaticons prepare for the invasion of Paradron. Crack inspired by this bit of ‘Fight or Flee’.
Notes: Written for the tf_speedwriting prompt ‘priorities’.
“Hey Tex!” Swindle yelled. “We’re packing for an invasion, not a vacation. I know those words are kinda similar, but they’re not the same.”
On the other side of the hangar, Vortex flipped Swindle one of the many obscene hand gestures he’d learnt on Earth, and went back to inspecting his new toy. His and Onslaught’s new toy, really. Swindle could just about see his commander’s feet sticking out from the maintenance hatch.
Onslaught had dubbed it the Annihilator, and he and Vortex had spent many a happy joor talking about it, looking at it, loading it, unloading it, poking it, prodding it, and probably fragging on top of it if the noises Swindle heard a few nights ago were any indication. It apparently had to be test fired at least once a breem or it’d explode. Or they would. Their sheer ebullient joy was nauseating.
“I want one,” Brawl sighed. His shoulders slumped, and his visor developed what Swindle had come to call his dreamy look. “It’s so… big.”
Swindle shook his head and turned back to his inventory. What was it with military types and big ordnance?
And it wasn’t just big ordnance - they were big ordnance - it was immense machines of questionable value that fired missiles the size of Galvatron with little to no guidance, that lumbered along on treads wider than Blast Off’s aft, that required Bruticus just to shift them from the hangar to the shooting range because they damned well weren’t getting anywhere quickly under their own power. Big machines that were, in Swindle’s rather considerable experience, a lot of flash for your cash, but only in terms of sheer, naked boom.
He could outrun the stupid thing walking backwards.
But the Annihilator had it’s plus points. It kept Vortex busy, for a start. And Onslaught. And that gave him a bit of extra wiggle room with his own plans, provided Blast Off wasn’t looking.
The only downside was that Vortex wanted to take it to Paradron, and Onslaught hadn’t told him no.
As far as Swindle was concerned, a machine like that was good for selling to mechs whose battle lust exceeded their processing power, but not for equipping an invasion force. What Onslaught was thinking, Swindle could only guess. Probably something along the lines of ‘ooooh, shiny’.
There was a clunk as Brawl’s aft hit the floor. He hugged his knees, his cannon barrel inching forwards. Oh great, epic sulk coming on in three… two… one… “Why do they get one and I don’t?!” he wailed.
Swindle glanced over his shoulder. Onslaught had emerged, covered all over in grease, and was pointing something out which Vortex evidently found fascinating. It was a sickening display of team bonding.
“Maybe they’ll let you fire it?” Swindle said, unable to meet Brawl’s gaze. He knew full well they wouldn’t.