TFP Styled Requested Oneshots

tick tock my love. (Phyco con x Bumblebee)

I hope you all like this story and no Bumblebee's were harmed in the making of this story.

The decepticons all shook in fear. All except My lord Megatron. The vehicon in front of me was on the floor practically bawling.

Y/n: "Hehehahahe, what's wrong little con can't handle tourtorous fun."

Megatron: "I think he can, my little glitchy jester."

Y/n: "d d d do you think s so my liege. Very well."

I brought out my whips, which were flaming hot and wiped a complete circle of fire around the con.

Soon, the con begged for it all to stop.

Megatron waved his servo, and I did a quick flip and skid, putting the fire out.

Y/n: "Thank you for the help with the entertainment. I shall be in my room My liege."

I walked into my room. The red and white striped ceiling reminded me of home.

All around me were the old posters that would be hung up around cybertron. Each one was perfectly preserved in a holo frame.

I flipped on the switch to hear the old recording again. As the lights and sounds came out, all sounds and colors came to life.

(* ladies and gents, boys and girls, welcome one and all!*)

(*Please enjoy the show!*)

(*please enjoy the treats and treasures all around!*)

I walked throughout my room, which was on the lower levels, perfectly big enough for a one show circus ring.

I read all of the posters and stopped at my last one.

"Welcome to the show dearest cons, to the nuthouse of the most phyco jester to ever see."

Yes, I was considered a phyco. A glitchy short circuit jester for the cons. But, I didn't mind very much. I was considered Megatron's torturer. Considered one of the most unknown cons.

Cybertronians knew of my work. Yet they didn't know my face. I always hid behind fire and shadows.

I danced with water and ice. I knew every method to scare the prisoners. But that wasn't always me.

I looked back to my first ever performance poster that got made.

"The beauty of the show! The funny Y/n. Please come and allow her to welcome you to the show."

Y/n: "Huh....where did it all go wrong."

Y/n: "Hehshageg....when the circus burned down."

I hit my chest. My body often short circuses. So did my memory chips. Many things would be wrong. I would go from being joyous and happy to being mad and treacherous.

Y/n: "I guess that's what happens when you get expieremrnted on and burned."

I then heard a rusted growl and looked behind me to see burnout.

He was my minicon. A real catch of the optic in the ring. The only triple changing minicon known to ever be perfect in every way. Well, mostly. I had seen a lot of potential in him and was able to teach him all of the tricks. He could do everything in a circus, whether it be with fire or with tricks of the trade.

But once he got his injury in the fire. Like me, he was considered a flame out.

There was still so much in us. Then it was all changed to nothing.

Burnout started to limp to me  before  grabbing onto my armor and climbing up.

Burnout: "I heard you put on a show."