Title: Immolation (Part 1/100)
Prompt: (Writer's choice) "Immolation"
Verse: G1 (AU-ish)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 898
Pairings: Inferno/Red Alert, Megatron/Red Alert, Megatron/Inferno, possible ?/Inferno
Other Characters: Unidentified Decepticon underlings.
Warnings: Sticky, discussions of rape/impending rape
Summary: Inferno strikes a dark bargain with Megatron to save Red Alert from rape and possibly win their freedom.
Notes: This fic is based on a bunny I offered to the redxinferno livejournal community suggesting that since Red Alert is typically always the victim in fics, what if it were Inferno for a change? Incidentally, I would love to see more people try this bunny out. Consider it a challenge. :)

The gimmick is that I will be creating the story based entirely (or as much as possible) on prompts from the slash_100 livejournal community. Due to the nature of those prompts some segments will be longer than others.

The story will be very dark but segments will have individual ratings. I'm going to try to find some humour in there, too, though it will be challenging.

Credit for my inspiration for this fic goes to the Stockholm series of fics by kookaburra1701.There's a point in Red Alert's story where Inferno tries to offer himself to save Red Alert from rape, and ever since I read it I wondered what would happen if Inferno's offer had been accepted.




1. an act or instance of immolating.

2. the state of being immolated.

3. a sacrifice, especially by fire.

"I have a bargain for ya, 'Mighty' Megatron," Inferno offered with a sneer, somehow managing to still look as imposing as ever despite being chained to the wall.

Hearing his partner's confident drawl, Red Alert sagged, knees weakening with relief, as he hung in between the two Decepticons currently engaged in removing him from the cell they shared. His destination had been the Decepticon leader's quarters, where the gun-moded overlord had intended to indulge himself with the security director in the most abhorrent way possible. But now, surely, that was off the table – Inferno might not have been as educated as Red himself was, but he could still come up with a good plan, or, failing that, just break free from his chains and slag every Decepticon he could get his hands on.

Megatron paused in the act of leaving, merely turning his head to offer what was doubtless intended to be a parting shot. "You are hardly in a position to bargain, Autobot."

"Take me instead." It was a joke, it had to be a joke - but the offer, spoken in Inferno's distinctively accented tones, was calm, collected, and deadly serious.

The white and red security director stared, disbelief literally freezing his vocalizer.

Megatron turned around and looked at Inferno, insolently allowing his gaze to sweep meaningfully over the firetruck, then he laughed, a mocking sound rich with smug, dark intent. "As if your bulky, cumbersome frame could ever offer me the delights of this slender, elegant little morsel..." he indicated Red Alert. "I had hoped he was untouched, but seeing as you are attempting to offer your pathetic Autobot virtue in exchange for his I can only assume you've taken his seals. A pity, but I can still take my pleasure, and he will still scream for me..."

Sending frantic reboot commands to his vocal processor, Red Alert bristled, indignation at the insult to Inferno making him momentarily forget his own predicament. Inferno might have been large and heavy, but despite his size he was graceful, and careful, not to mention that he exuded an aura of strength, tempered by gentleness, that the security director thought was positively magnetic.

Despite his disparaging words, the Decepticon leader hadn't left yet, but stood watching Inferno inscrutably for long moments. "Unless you wanted to... sweeten the deal?" he finally said.

"I.. I'll interface with ya willin'ly," Inferno began. "Well, as willin'ly as I can," the large red mech amended, after disbelieving snort from Megatron. He gritted his dental plates for a moment, as if steeling himself, and then went on. "An'... If I can get through a session on the berth with ya - from the time we start until ya overload - without breakin' down, ya will let us go."

Megatron's optics flared with undisguised pleasure, and his face broke into a sinister smile. The slagmaker was known as a master of psychological warfare, and it seemed that sometimes he enjoyed playing the game one on one. "And if you don't..."

Inferno stammered, clearly having run out of ideas, "Well, I, uhhh..."

"If you don't, you will service the entire Decepticon army currently stationed at this base," Megatron decided, a diabolical grin on his lip components that boded very, very ill indeed. "And afterwards, if I am feeling merciful, if you have entertained us sufficiently, perhaps, just perhaps, I will still let you both go."

"Inferno, don't!" Finally Red's vocalizer agreed to the reboot commands he had been desperately sending. His tanks were churning with terror and revulsion, his spark was climbing its way into his throat, this could not be happening!

Inferno's optics flickered once, fearfully, and then grew hard, harder than Red Alert had ever seen them. The red mech set his jaw. "Tell me Red Alert won't be harmed and ya've got yerself a deal."

"Done!" Megatron snapped his fingers to his underlings. "Put the small one back – he is not to be touched by anyone. Bring this one instead."

Red Alert struggled fruitlessly in his chains as the two Decepticons holding him dragged him back to the wall and reattached him to it before detaching Inferno. "Inferno! No! Don't touch him, leave him alone! Inferno!"

"It'll be alright, Red," Inferno called bravely as he was escorted out of the cell block. "Ya know Megatron ain't well-hung - I won't even feel his itty bitty l'il spike when it goes in!" There was a growl and a clang as the Decepticon leader obviously took exception to the firetruck's remark, followed by the sound of Inferno's beautiful laughter, though it did seem a bit forced. "I love ya, Red!"

"I love you!" Red Alert shouted back. Normally he didn't like to be overly demonstrative in public, especially among enemies, but he could hardly keep silent when his lover was about to sacrifice so much to keep him safe. The security director let out a low, desperate keen as the door slammed shut, leaving him alone to imagine the worst, as he always did, only this time he knew his imaginings would not be so far off the mark.