Red (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
redthedragon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2022-07-31 03:55 pm
redthedragon) wrote in fandomweekly2022-07-31 03:55 pm
Entry tags:
[145] Worth Something (Transformers IDW 2005)
Theme Prompt: #145 Temptation
Title: Worth Something
Fandom: Transformers IDW 2005
Rating/Warnings: Teen; vague references to sex.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 999 words
Summary: Swindle and Hot Rod cut a deal... a deal Hot Rod really shouldn't be making.
There used to be a sun on Cybertron. Through the dense atmosphere it would hang red-orange in the sky, glowing like some kind of faint fire. It wasn't bright, not when he'd seen it. He'd barely remembered it, anyway. It was just barely after his time that the star had burned out, and Cybertron had been plunged into darkness.
Every sun felt nostalgic after that. Earth's was a different color, but it would have that fire-bright glow every time it crossed the horizon. Swindle wasn't a protoform any more, and he certainly wasn't an innocent youth. But sometimes it felt like he could be, watching the sun set.
But other things gleamed brighter. The golden glow of money changing hands glistened brighter than any sun, and Swindle could hold it in his hand, could take it home. Money was worth more than any long-gone memories. Money was the most important thing in this world.
The deal was set for dusk. Swindle had to get his act together. Why was he mooning after the past, anyway? It'd been a long time since then. He didn't want to be thinking about stupid slag. He needed to close on this, and not let his focus be split by the ghosts of the past. A past he'd helped kill and bury, even.
His customer- Hot Rod. An Autobot. It paid to know these things, to be able to look the stupid fraggers he was fleecing in the eyes and pretend like he cared who they were. Hot Rod would be meeting him and he would be taking every credit Hot Rod had in exchange for the scraps of information he was ready to sell to him. He couldn't afford to slip.
The Autobot was a few minutes late, but as the last rays of the sun slipped over the horizon Swindle saw his gleaming yellow spoiler and red finials waving through the treeline. He waved. The Autobot waved back, and beelined for him.
They exchanged pleasantries, of course, because Swindlehad manners, and the whole time Swindle tried to keep his eyes off the Autobot's yellow-painted fingers. Hot Rod wasn't really interested in making nice, anyway. He had his little Autobot attitude about Decepticons, and he felt the need to posture about it. Still. Swindle wasn't about to slip. He was here for the money.
He steered the exchange onto its tracks. Hot Rod asked about the location of some guy he was ready to part with thousands of credits about. It wouldn't even be terribly useful to him, of course- Swindle couldn't hardly sell him an asset or anything- but Hot Rod had his heart set on it. And Swindle knew it, so it was no effort at all to smile at the attitude. He had the upper hand here. He had Hot Rod over a barrel, and he just had to shake and see what fell out.
Shame he didn't have Vortex with him. He'd get all sorts of interesting little morsels out of a gift-wrapped Autobot.
Swindle smiled and laid out his prices and Hot Rod balked.
"You can't expect me to pay that."
"I expect you to be good for your word, Hot Rod. You know I will be."
Hot Rod glanced around. "I... You're asking a hundred thousand galacreds more than I thought you were."
"I'm actually cutting you a deal, you know," Swindle said, even though that was absolute bullslag. "I'd be charging Lord Megatron double this. But you've been such a good customer up until now."
Hot Rod looked around again. "Listen, Magnus will want to know where the money went."
"So tell him you spent it on blackjack and circuit speeders. I can't go any lower than this, Hot Rod."
Hot Rod glanced aside, just the optics this time, and then lowered his voice. "Listen. I can't pay this. But I... I can try to make it up to you in something else."
"Mm?" His spoiler did shine an appealing shade of yellow-gold.
"Uh... Information for information. You buy secrets, right? I'm working a detachment- " He shut up abruptly. "I- Swindle, I really need to know."
Swindle glanced him up and down again, but Hot Rod was an easy regular buyer and he didn't want to risk losing his business by pushing it too far, too fast. "Depends how valuable the secret."
Hot Rod flagged for a second. Rallied. "I will make it worth your while, Swindle. I swear."
"You'd better," Swindle said. "Listen, how many credits?"
"I can do you two hundred fifty grand."
"Three fifty." He'd lowballed it and you both knew it. It was almost insulting.
"Three fifty. Just- how- how much- "
"And a hundred thousand worth of secrets," Swindle confirmed. "Let's see. What can you give me?"
"I won't sell out the Autobots. I can't give you sensitive intel. But I'm working a detachment straight from Prowl- "
"Listen, Hot Bod, intel is what's valuable. You think what you're asking for isn't intel?" It wasn't, really, but he didn't know that. "You're gonna have to give me something worth something. I can promise I'll keep it back for a minute, though. You know I'm not exactly pushing for the end of the war."
Hot Rod glanced aside again, looked back. "Alright. I'll do it."
"Excellent," Swindle said, rubbing his hands together. "The credits first."
He wasn't like Vortex, and watching people in pain didn't get him off the way it did for his teammate. He didn't really care about seeing people suffer. But oh, the look on Hot Rod's face... Swindle would never get over the way it looked watching someone else give in to what they wanted over the things that they needed.
He closed on the deal, prying tasty morsels from Hot Rod like it was nothing. And as he walked back to his ship, he marveled at the golden glow on the credit chips. Even in the ice-pale moonlight, they shone brighter to him than the sun ever had.
Title: Worth Something
Fandom: Transformers IDW 2005
Rating/Warnings: Teen; vague references to sex.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 999 words
Summary: Swindle and Hot Rod cut a deal... a deal Hot Rod really shouldn't be making.
There used to be a sun on Cybertron. Through the dense atmosphere it would hang red-orange in the sky, glowing like some kind of faint fire. It wasn't bright, not when he'd seen it. He'd barely remembered it, anyway. It was just barely after his time that the star had burned out, and Cybertron had been plunged into darkness.
Every sun felt nostalgic after that. Earth's was a different color, but it would have that fire-bright glow every time it crossed the horizon. Swindle wasn't a protoform any more, and he certainly wasn't an innocent youth. But sometimes it felt like he could be, watching the sun set.
But other things gleamed brighter. The golden glow of money changing hands glistened brighter than any sun, and Swindle could hold it in his hand, could take it home. Money was worth more than any long-gone memories. Money was the most important thing in this world.
The deal was set for dusk. Swindle had to get his act together. Why was he mooning after the past, anyway? It'd been a long time since then. He didn't want to be thinking about stupid slag. He needed to close on this, and not let his focus be split by the ghosts of the past. A past he'd helped kill and bury, even.
His customer- Hot Rod. An Autobot. It paid to know these things, to be able to look the stupid fraggers he was fleecing in the eyes and pretend like he cared who they were. Hot Rod would be meeting him and he would be taking every credit Hot Rod had in exchange for the scraps of information he was ready to sell to him. He couldn't afford to slip.
The Autobot was a few minutes late, but as the last rays of the sun slipped over the horizon Swindle saw his gleaming yellow spoiler and red finials waving through the treeline. He waved. The Autobot waved back, and beelined for him.
They exchanged pleasantries, of course, because Swindlehad manners, and the whole time Swindle tried to keep his eyes off the Autobot's yellow-painted fingers. Hot Rod wasn't really interested in making nice, anyway. He had his little Autobot attitude about Decepticons, and he felt the need to posture about it. Still. Swindle wasn't about to slip. He was here for the money.
He steered the exchange onto its tracks. Hot Rod asked about the location of some guy he was ready to part with thousands of credits about. It wouldn't even be terribly useful to him, of course- Swindle couldn't hardly sell him an asset or anything- but Hot Rod had his heart set on it. And Swindle knew it, so it was no effort at all to smile at the attitude. He had the upper hand here. He had Hot Rod over a barrel, and he just had to shake and see what fell out.
Shame he didn't have Vortex with him. He'd get all sorts of interesting little morsels out of a gift-wrapped Autobot.
Swindle smiled and laid out his prices and Hot Rod balked.
"You can't expect me to pay that."
"I expect you to be good for your word, Hot Rod. You know I will be."
Hot Rod glanced around. "I... You're asking a hundred thousand galacreds more than I thought you were."
"I'm actually cutting you a deal, you know," Swindle said, even though that was absolute bullslag. "I'd be charging Lord Megatron double this. But you've been such a good customer up until now."
Hot Rod looked around again. "Listen, Magnus will want to know where the money went."
"So tell him you spent it on blackjack and circuit speeders. I can't go any lower than this, Hot Rod."
Hot Rod glanced aside, just the optics this time, and then lowered his voice. "Listen. I can't pay this. But I... I can try to make it up to you in something else."
"Mm?" His spoiler did shine an appealing shade of yellow-gold.
"Uh... Information for information. You buy secrets, right? I'm working a detachment- " He shut up abruptly. "I- Swindle, I really need to know."
Swindle glanced him up and down again, but Hot Rod was an easy regular buyer and he didn't want to risk losing his business by pushing it too far, too fast. "Depends how valuable the secret."
Hot Rod flagged for a second. Rallied. "I will make it worth your while, Swindle. I swear."
"You'd better," Swindle said. "Listen, how many credits?"
"I can do you two hundred fifty grand."
"Three fifty." He'd lowballed it and you both knew it. It was almost insulting.
"Three fifty. Just- how- how much- "
"And a hundred thousand worth of secrets," Swindle confirmed. "Let's see. What can you give me?"
"I won't sell out the Autobots. I can't give you sensitive intel. But I'm working a detachment straight from Prowl- "
"Listen, Hot Bod, intel is what's valuable. You think what you're asking for isn't intel?" It wasn't, really, but he didn't know that. "You're gonna have to give me something worth something. I can promise I'll keep it back for a minute, though. You know I'm not exactly pushing for the end of the war."
Hot Rod glanced aside again, looked back. "Alright. I'll do it."
"Excellent," Swindle said, rubbing his hands together. "The credits first."
He wasn't like Vortex, and watching people in pain didn't get him off the way it did for his teammate. He didn't really care about seeing people suffer. But oh, the look on Hot Rod's face... Swindle would never get over the way it looked watching someone else give in to what they wanted over the things that they needed.
He closed on the deal, prying tasty morsels from Hot Rod like it was nothing. And as he walked back to his ship, he marveled at the golden glow on the credit chips. Even in the ice-pale moonlight, they shone brighter to him than the sun ever had.
no subject
no subject
Thanks for reading! :D