this is an ex parrot
The zombie bird site, nest for stochastic terrorism, has gotten precipitously worse in just the last few days.
Even my own very tightly curated feed is getting poisoned. Each tweet is like a clown car full of poisonous little minds, and when you click on it, they all come boiling out like ants.
I'm sorry. I've had enough.
Over on Threads at @lightreturner . Or here, as ever, in my peaceful corner of antique content and obscure fandoms.
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Hi! Can I request hurt/comfort IDW rodistar, if that's alright?
I'm not sure how much hurt is in there, but I gave it a go! Have a 800+ word one shot on the house.
Title: Transfer Request Approved
Continuity: IDW1
Rating: Teen (one suggestive comment)
Relationship: Rodimus/Starscream
Characters: Rodimus & Starscream
AU: Canon divergence
Summary: In which Starscream is grateful his hard work goes to waste.
Crossposting: In a reblog
Fic under cut.
“I’m not going on the Exitus.”
Starscream wasn’t sure what to make of that, squinting down from his throne at the garishly painted Prime in front of him.
It was a strange piece of news, especially on the eve before the Exituswas scheduled to depart on its diplomatic mission to many worlds overseen by the Galactic Council. Starscream would have been lying if he said he was looking forward to the ship setting off, given whom the ship would be taking with it.
Rodimus had applied to that ship specifically to get off Cybertron. To get away from painful memories. To escape from the judgment of the population for those he had associated with. All valid reasons to run away. All reasons whispered to the seeker in confidence after the Lost Lightreturned home for the last time several months ago.
The emperor huffed and waved his hand, dismissing the entourage of badgeless that stood guard over the room. He wouldn’t need them for this. The uniformly armored mechs quietly turned and filed out, leaving Starscream and Rodimus alone. Not for the first time either.
Starscream understood all too well how fickle the court of public opinion could be and had, as a favor, even helped push the approval for the new assignment through. The Autobot army had been roughly stapled to the new Cybertronian government as a powered down military wing, which made it easier for him to have at least some influence, despite his own past associations.
“What do you mean you’re not going on the Exitus?” he snapped, leaning forward in his throne, palm braced against his knee. “Do you know the strings I had to pull to get you the necessary clearance?”
Even if Megatron’s assignment to the Lost Light had been at Optimus’ behest, the stain of association with the bastard remained, an unsightly blemish on Rodimus’ security clearance and service record. It was a weight Starscream himself had been trying desperately to shed over the past handful of years. At least he had his social position, whereas Rodimus had fewer defenses. Not even being a Prime did much good to shield him after the sins of the lineage of Primes had been brought to light.
Not that Starscream should have cared.
That was what he got for attempting to show some solidarity one time, inviting Rodimus for an audience shortly after the second trial. Well, it was billed as solidarity, when really Starscream had just wanted to get some information and maybe gloat a little. In fact, he had expected Rodimus to give him the arm of honor and not show up, but he’d arrived, standing in front of the imperial throne, much like he was now.
And they had… talked. For hours.
It had been easy. Comfortable, even. Their sharp, “no holds barred” speech styles had danced in flawless time. They had understood perfectly what was reallymeant beneath the sarcastic barbs. Abrasive comments had been welcomed with open arms, attracting rather than repelling.
An unintentional, unexpected friendship... or something. Maybe it was something else.
Many, many such conversations later, he decided that helping Rodimus get away had been the least he could do. Starscream hadn’t even gone out of his way to make a show of being beneficent about the whole thing, never mind that he could always use some positive PR.
Not that he wanted to send Rodimus away. The frank conversations and simple understanding they had was a rare treasure. Starscream drew up one side of his mouth in a disbelieving snarl, a mask to cover the small, fragile hope in his spark. Hope had never been allowed in his life; it was always something shameful to be kept hidden.
“I mean exactly what I said,” Rodimus said, hands planted on his hips. “I’m staying here.”
“With you” went unsaid.
Starscream sighed with relief, though he hoped it looked more like boredom. Casually lounging back into his throne to disguise the frantic spinning of his spark, he looked away, unwilling to keep optic contact for the moment. There was only thing to do, to make an offer before Rodimus change his mind, not that he would. He was far too stubborn, but along with that growing hope there was a faint tingle of fear. Every good thing or person in his life had always been brutally ripped away before….
Starscream gingerly lifted the crown from his head, holding it in front of his chest.
“Well, I’m not having a second one made. Not in this economy,” he said, rotating the decadent adornment between his palms. “But… I suppose you can wear it every once in a while.”
“No, thanks. I don’t like hats. Knew a guy with a hat once. He was a dick. Put me off hats entirely.” Rodimus put a hand to his chin in thought. “I mean, I can wear you instead, so… I don’t see a problem here.”
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