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“If you did play chess," Ross said, "you’d remember that a pawn can become a queen. The most powerful piece on the board, Parker, remember that? But—” Ross smiled— “only if it obeys.”
He adjusted his tie, stood, and looked down at Peter. “I’ll ask you again,” he said. “Eventually. You may feel differently after you’ve been living in a six-by-six cube without sunlight or fresh air for a few years.”
“What pawns do,” Peter said, voice shaking slightly, “is sacrifice themselves for the greater good. I have no regrets.”
He had a lot of regrets.
Like, a lot. A crapton. A shitload. An overloaded dumpsterful.
“When I visit you on the Raft,” Ross said, “you’ll be old enough to grow a beard.” The cell door clicked shut behind him.
A podfic of beautifullights' fic "Peter and the Jailbirds"
“Megs, back me up here,” Rodimus says, like that’s a reasonable expectation.
“Absolutely not,” Megatron says.
“Thank you,” Ratchet says. He sounds extremely annoyed, but Megatron can’t tell if it’s at having to thank him, or at Rodimus. Both seem plausible.
“Ugh, you’re so boring,” Rodimus says, “C’mon Megs, you’ve done way wilder shit than this, I know you changed alt like, all the time, who even does that. That’s way harder than working out how to make sure I have the biggest rack on board-”