#god.DAMNB | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pastelpaperplanes · 4 years

Text

Calling in a favor - Part 1 - Cops and Mob AU

A plot bunny got loose last night and after checking with Pastel, I wrote the first part of what looks to be a multi shot. Be aware two of my OC's are gonna be characters her alongside those already established for this AU.

----

Slag was going to go sideways soon, and Megatron had borrowed time to try and prevent it.

It had all started with that new hire, that gorgeous siren with an aft that was just sculpted for high cut attire the entertainers at his nightclub wore.

Orion Pax.

A sweet, soft spoken mech who’d practically stumbled through the door one day in loose fitting yet still somehow fitting attire, and half begged for a job as if he was begging someone not to kill him.

At the time Megatron had thought little of it, he was young, the scene would scare him off in a day or two.

One night in and the young mech with lips perter than those he’d seen on some femmes, which became even more optic catching with that red lipstick, and he was the new favourite of his patrons.

Megatron hadn’t minded, more than happy to accept the uptick in patrons who wanted to see the new singer/dancer his club had to offer.

He’d joined his patrons more than a couple times now to admire the new view, and found his lap full of the young mech on more than one occasion, very eager to please his new boss this one, and the view was always so much better up close.

Once the patrons were gone, he’d made a habit of giving Orion one last drink on for the night, on his personal limitless tab, which he always got a rather timid ‘thank you sir’ from the bot who was always so much meeker and timid off the stage, from there just a couple words were exchanged before Orion was off for the night.

Megatron swore the mech shrunk when his stage persona faded away, or at least, he was always trying to make himself seem small, less likely to draw attention.

A good trait to have really.

Alas, it was hardly enough to keep Shockwave off the young mech.

Now again, Megatron was no fool, few tried so hard to get on his good side without ulterior motives, and there was a high chance he was a very dedicated to the act informant for the Elite Guard.

But there was equally a chance that he really was just a poor sod laid off from his old job by the current mess of an economy Iacon faced and in desperate need for the money to keep the tiny apartment that he lived in, the place had been scouted by some of his mechs to check the story, and everything came through that the mech was telling the truth about being just that desperate for a job.

Shockwave however, was not so easily convinced, and no matter how many times he’d warned the one opticed mech to not cause a mess with the new employee, it felt like he was pulling on a slipping lead, and Shockwave was the enraged hound he was trying to keep from slaughtering the poor innocent pup he had set his one optic on.

He’d caught the mech twice now threatening to make sure that no one would find Orion’s body right to the rightfully terrified mechs face.

He’d had stern words for the mech, but he could practically see them going in one antler and out the other as that one red optic glazed over.

Shockwave was unfortunately in that mindset of ‘he was right, and he’d prove it’.

A state that, in any other situation, Megatron more than welcomed, it certainly kept the spilt energon off his servos, but this time, when the mechs target was Orion’s fresh energon, well, he was having to put his pede down.

At the present moment he was locked in his soundproof office, he had shoved a slug of extra credits to Orion and told him to get a cab home instead of walking, using the credible excuse of the mild acid rain outside to get him safely back to his shoddy apartment as possible.

Then he’d kept Shockwave behind by giving him every menial locking up task he could, the shady dealings done for the cycle it was mostly cleaning up the nightclub.

Shockwave had vocalised his displeasure once during that time, a withering glare and Lugnut snarling from the main door the behemoth stood by swiftly shut him up.

Shockwave knew him hounding Orion had put him on Megatron’s ‘I tolerate you because you’re useful’ list, and he was going to have tread very carefully for a while to get back off that list… but it still stung to realise that his boss really was that far gone under the siren spell of that mystery bot claiming to go by the designation ‘Orion Pax’.

Eventually Megatron ran out of tasks for Shockwave to do, and finally released the mech for the night as well as telling Lugnut to go home, Strika likely had dinner ready for him, he passed them bot a slug of credits to pay for the over time before he retired to where he was now, in his locked office trying to figure out what to do.

He couldn’t keep this up, having to keep an optic on Orion and Shockwave each to make sure the later didn’t find a way to do in the former when he wasn’t looking. It didn’t leave much of his attention for everything else, and that could become very costly if he wasn’t careful...

He couldn’t get rid of Shockwave, he was too useful, and knew too much to just let go.

And he was not his brother, he would never kill a mech like Shockwave over something like this, it was a waste of use.

Orion was an innocent mech who just wanted to earn enough to keep his helm above the slag of this world, and he doubted he’d recharge well if he just let Shockwave have his way and offline the entertainer for the apparent crime of being able to do his job…

He brought the tips of his digits to his optics and rubbed, trying to get the residue buildup out of the seams around his optics.

As he pulled his digits away, his optics landed on the one picture frame he had on his desk.

It was a picture from his younger vorns, back when Megazarak ran the show and he was second in command.

Leaning on the back of each of his broad shoulders, where the two bots he knew that, through the molten slag of the pits, and the emptiness of space, would always have his back.

Sol and Neb, abbreviations of their longer full designations, split spark twins who he had befriended by happenstance when they had stumbled upon him beaten half into the slag of a gutter.

They’d been dressed all fancy, out for a night on the town to have some fun.

They’d been pulled into the fight Megazarak was still embroiled in when they tried to help him to his pedes, bleeding sparks he’d assumed at a time.

Then one of the mechs who’d way laid him had grabbed Sol by the neck and well…

That was the cycle he learned just how quickly an enraged femme could offline a mech with the heel of their shoe.

The stiletto had gone right through the optic and pierced the processor, dooming the mech to the Well right sharpish.

Neb hadn’t even missed a beat, put her shoe back on, just as her twin had pulled out a wicked looking switch blade that had some very nasty hooked edges to it.

The greying mechs friend didn’t take well to his friend being done in with a shoe.

He’d charged.

Now Megatron hadn’t been in the best state, and when things started to really move, it had become a blur he couldn’t follow, past a rather noticeable spray of neon pink as the mechs neck was slit across the front and sprayed all over a nearby wall.

He’d passed out completely from the helm trauma not much later, and had woken up in a very nice hotel room all patched up and Megazarak scowling and pouting on a very plush chair not far from the equally plush berth he was on, med-patches slapped on haphazardly, he had assumed as a result of Megazarak being a terrible patient and their ‘saviors’ not really having much experience with first aid.

They’d come in not long later, introductions had happened, and somehow, they’d never lost touch.

He quickly learned they were the all or nothing types, once they were on your side 100%, there was no wavering in their loyalty, and their morals were very flexible when they didn’t come to other femmes or sparklings.

Some of the things he’d seen them so easily do to mechs had floored him in a way that sometimes still put a chill down his back strut.

What really mattered was, when the time came to pick a side between him and Megazarak, they hadn’t even hesitated to stand by him.

Megazarak barely put up a fight, it would have just prolonged his death, and there was no point making the tragedy of the situation stretch out any more than it had to.

Not long after that though, they had come to them, and told him, rather flatly he remembered, that their sire, a famous starship captain, had been diagnosed with a terminal and rather fast acting disease he’d picked up when traveling with his mate and ship to one of the distant colonies.

They had at most an orn to spend with their creators before both returned to the well, their carrier would follow their sire’s spark at most a cycle after their mate passed.

He’d hugged them as tight as he could, and promised to stay in touch, they all knew what this meant.

The inheritance would come, and with it, the family’s starship fleet.

Saying the twins came from wealth would of been a laughable understatement.

But the facts stood.

Family meant too much for them, and it was their duty to follow the family legacy as the captains of the fleet, specifically the flagship.

A new one, built for them on orders of their sire.

They’d depart Cybertron within the orn of their creators passing, and likely only return to Cybertron, let alone Iacon, infrequently for the rest of their cycles.

He missed them dearly, but he was also happy for them.

They were the only two bots he knew, who’d been able to bow out in grace from the Mob, and not have anyone come after them.

Mostly because of how much terror they’d instilled into the sparks of those who lived through their time being his left and right hand.

The more he thought back on the good times, the more an idea formed in his helm.

He needed an outside opinion, someone's view of things that didn’t have a major bias in the current situation, but who still knew all the background context to understand the severity of the situation he’d found himself in.

He picked up his phone, and dialed the number he had long since memorised.

It rung twice before it went through, a bubbly, yet sultry voice coming over the line, if he was anyone else that voice alone would have had him smitten.

::This is Nebularburst, Co-Captain of the Transgalactic Flagship Polaris speaking, how may I… Mega! You called!::

He chuckled. “I see you noticed the call number.”

::Oh hush you caught me off guard! Normally you send me and Sol a com message saying you want to call first!::

That was true. “I apologise, I was in a bit of a hurry to call you… something has come up… and I need an outside opinion to help me make the right decision.”

Neb’s tone shifted from the happy babble she’d started with to a tone he recognised as her ‘down to business’ manner. ::I’m all audios.::

So, he relayed the situation, from hiring Orion Pax as an entertainer, to that night where he had to hold back Shockwave for over two joors to make sure the mech wouldn’t try and catch the poor scared half witless entertainer on his way home.

Neb dutifully listened to the whole sworded tale, and waited for him to finish before she spoke, and the moment she did, he knew she had an idea.

He’d known her too long not to know how to read her by her voice alone, they’d been able to do little else for decavorns now.

::You have his work contract in your office right?::

“Of course, I have it right here… why?”

::Is it the same kind of contract we’ve been using since Sol suggested it?::

Oh, oh now he saw where she was going, he checked the fine print, there it was, tucked away innocently enough. “It is… tell me Neb… I wish to cash in a rather large favour from you... when will the Polaris next be docking on Cybertron?”

::Within six cycles actually… we were hoping to surprise you with a dinner while Polaris is taken through the motions. But this situation is more important than a nice meal out to catch up…::

“Next time perhaps… if we do this, you’ll keep him safe?”

::Of course we will! Hmmm… wait… hold up… Sol’s just saying something over the bond… oh… oooh! Oh my Primus! Mega! We’re so proud of you!::

He wasn’t going to lie to himself, her sudden burst of excitement over the line startled him.

“What?! What are you talking about? Has something happened?!”

::Happened? … Oh… Oh Megaaaa… don’t you see what’s happened? No… no of course you haven’t… you’re pride and work have gone and given you a blind spot again... :: She paused to sigh. :: I guess I’ve got to spell it out to you over the com and not get to the see the face you’re about to make when I say it…::

That wasn’t good, he was already flinching back a bit, bracing for impact.

::Hmm… Mega, my dear old bricks for a processor friend… you’re… in… love…::

----

Hope you like it Pastel!

#I HAVE #NO WORDS #NADA #ZILCH #OTHER THANBBBRBRUH #this is perfection ommmmmmfg #you really REALLY out did yourself jesusFIVKINGCRHIST #you talent is just off the shits i hope you know that #god.DAMNB #THANK YOU #transformers #fic #submission #cops and mobs creations

136 notes · View notes