Song Fics Collection
Feb. 5th, 2015 01:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Just a few tumblr ficlets that I'll be uploading to Database in Transmission here shortly. Posted for completion's sake and because it can never hurt to have too many backups of your work. :)
Prompt: “I Never Told You,” Colbie Caillat
Universe: Transformers: Prime, post-Predacons Rising
Characters: Ratchet POV, unrequited RatchetxOptimus
Prompt: “Never Gonna Leave This Bed,” Maroon 5
Universe: IDW, MTMTE, before the Overlord arc
Characters: DriftxRodimus
Prompt: “They Say Surrender,” Aqualash
Universe: TFA, post-series
Characters: ArceexLockdown
Prompt: “Waiting for the End,” Linkin Park
Universe: G1 (related to Damaged Goods)
Characters: Ratchet, Hoist, Perceptor, Red Alert kind of
Prompt: “I Never Told You,” Colbie Caillat
Universe: Transformers: Prime, post-Predacons Rising
Characters: Ratchet POV, unrequited RatchetxOptimus
It's a lot quieter now. Which isn't to say that Optimus was loud, but that the Autobots themselves are subdued.
There is joy certainly, but it is tempered with loss.
Ratchet never expected Optimus to go before him. It is most unfair and no, Ratchet doesn't care that he sounds like a newspark saying such things.
He misses Optimus. He misses Orion Pax. He misses the both of them, apart and together, all of their facets.
What he wouldn't give to have either beside him again.
The days are duller. Ratchet does not return to Earth. The children are only painful reminders of everything he should've said and the mistakes he'd made.
He tries to keep busy. There is enough to repair or build that Ratchet is never short on work.
It doesn't help. It's not distraction enough.
Recharge is an exercise in futility. Not even the sight of Cybertron, alive and flush with new life, is enough consolation.
He keeps the Star Sabre. No one else wanted to claim it. No one else can use it. But it takes pride of place on the wall. Sometimes, Ratchet swears he can still feel Optimus within it.
Regret, Ratchet sighs, is the hardest weight to bear.
He spends most of his night-cycles alone, staring into the stars, remembering the first shower of newsparks. He often wonders if any of them are Orion reborn. Orion deserves a chance at life without the burdens of being Prime. Ratchet would leave all this behind just to enjoy that with him.
It's a fool's dream.
Eventually, Ratchet goes back to his medbay and lab and endless string of projects, each leaving him more lonely than before.
Eventually, he hopes, it will get easier. Eventually.
There is joy certainly, but it is tempered with loss.
Ratchet never expected Optimus to go before him. It is most unfair and no, Ratchet doesn't care that he sounds like a newspark saying such things.
He misses Optimus. He misses Orion Pax. He misses the both of them, apart and together, all of their facets.
What he wouldn't give to have either beside him again.
The days are duller. Ratchet does not return to Earth. The children are only painful reminders of everything he should've said and the mistakes he'd made.
He tries to keep busy. There is enough to repair or build that Ratchet is never short on work.
It doesn't help. It's not distraction enough.
Recharge is an exercise in futility. Not even the sight of Cybertron, alive and flush with new life, is enough consolation.
He keeps the Star Sabre. No one else wanted to claim it. No one else can use it. But it takes pride of place on the wall. Sometimes, Ratchet swears he can still feel Optimus within it.
Regret, Ratchet sighs, is the hardest weight to bear.
He spends most of his night-cycles alone, staring into the stars, remembering the first shower of newsparks. He often wonders if any of them are Orion reborn. Orion deserves a chance at life without the burdens of being Prime. Ratchet would leave all this behind just to enjoy that with him.
It's a fool's dream.
Eventually, Ratchet goes back to his medbay and lab and endless string of projects, each leaving him more lonely than before.
Eventually, he hopes, it will get easier. Eventually.
Prompt: “Never Gonna Leave This Bed,” Maroon 5
Universe: IDW, MTMTE, before the Overlord arc
Characters: DriftxRodimus
Recharge is probably the only time Rodimus ever looks innocent. Drift snickers and then goes back to admiring.
Rodimus has no shame in this or anything else. He sprawls across the berth, takes up every bit of space he can, and recharges with his mouth partially open. It's actually kind of cute.
He also recharges like a lump of lead.
Drift grins and traces the flames emblazoned on his captain's chestplate. It's a feather-light touch but any proper warrior ought to register it and burst online. A Decepticon certainly would. Rodimus doesn't.
Because he's that comfortable? Because he trusts Drift that much? Because no one ever taught him the value of constant awareness?
Who knows.
Drift's engine purrs softly, circuits still singing from that last overload. He could lay here until the next shift, just watching Rodimus recharge.
It's the only time Rodimus is truly quiet.
Drift's grin widens and he has to push down the laughter. Not that it would wake Rodimus anyway.
It's the trust, he decides as his light touches trace the edge of each armor plate and whisper over Rodimus' ventral armor. And that thought makes him bloom with warmth.
Rodimus trusts him. It's almost as intoxicating as the overload they just shared. It doesn't matter that this isn't serious.
It matters that Drift can lie here next to Rodimus and both of them are at ease.
Until Rodimus twitches. “Stop staring,” he murmurs without opening his optics. “You're gonna give me a complex.”
Drift chuckles. “You already have one.”
“Mmm. Good point.” One hand flops out blindly and hooks on Drift's shoulder. “Recharge. That's an order.”
He turns his head, pressing a kiss to the bright fingers. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Rodimus' engine purrs his approval and his field slips back toward recharge, but his hand, Drift notices, stays on Drift's shoulder. Keeping him here. Where he wants to be anyway.
Trust, Drift thinks, is worth it all.
Rodimus has no shame in this or anything else. He sprawls across the berth, takes up every bit of space he can, and recharges with his mouth partially open. It's actually kind of cute.
He also recharges like a lump of lead.
Drift grins and traces the flames emblazoned on his captain's chestplate. It's a feather-light touch but any proper warrior ought to register it and burst online. A Decepticon certainly would. Rodimus doesn't.
Because he's that comfortable? Because he trusts Drift that much? Because no one ever taught him the value of constant awareness?
Who knows.
Drift's engine purrs softly, circuits still singing from that last overload. He could lay here until the next shift, just watching Rodimus recharge.
It's the only time Rodimus is truly quiet.
Drift's grin widens and he has to push down the laughter. Not that it would wake Rodimus anyway.
It's the trust, he decides as his light touches trace the edge of each armor plate and whisper over Rodimus' ventral armor. And that thought makes him bloom with warmth.
Rodimus trusts him. It's almost as intoxicating as the overload they just shared. It doesn't matter that this isn't serious.
It matters that Drift can lie here next to Rodimus and both of them are at ease.
Until Rodimus twitches. “Stop staring,” he murmurs without opening his optics. “You're gonna give me a complex.”
Drift chuckles. “You already have one.”
“Mmm. Good point.” One hand flops out blindly and hooks on Drift's shoulder. “Recharge. That's an order.”
He turns his head, pressing a kiss to the bright fingers. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Rodimus' engine purrs his approval and his field slips back toward recharge, but his hand, Drift notices, stays on Drift's shoulder. Keeping him here. Where he wants to be anyway.
Trust, Drift thinks, is worth it all.
Prompt: “They Say Surrender,” Aqualash
Universe: TFA, post-series
Characters: ArceexLockdown
This, Arcee realizes, is a very unhealthy relationship. One might even call it an obsession, but on whose end, she's not sure.
She's not even sure how she got here. How she went from loathing to apathy to lust.
The war was forever and a day ago. But also just a blink. She remembers some of it vividly. Other parts are grainy like archival footage.
And she certainly hadn't expected that running across Lockdown on the aft end of the galaxy would have led to this.
This being the frantic push-pull of two frames. A hook lodged around one armor plate. Her fingers gripping a waist nearly narrower than her own. His plating as marked and heated as hers. Energon on her lips from a violent kiss, energon on his chin from her retaliation.
She is the one who challenges. He rises to the bait, purring at her with vocals that make her spark sing. Charge crackles between them, too much and too soon and not enough.
The aftermath leaves her panting and him dazed.
And she thinks that there are better ways to extract information, though certainly less pleasurable. Lockdown can only think to offer her a trophy. She refuses, unless he's willing to part with something he truly values.
“All I got is my spark, sweetheart,” he purrs.
It might come to the point where Arcee takes it. But for now, she leaves him sprawled on the floor of his ship, knowing she'll be back. And he knows it too, if that blown kiss is any indication. He must have spent too much time on Earth.
In the streetlight, Arcee frowns at the scrapes in her paint. Souvenirs on their own, she thinks.
If only Ratchet could see her now. Wouldn't he be appalled?
Arcee smirks, rolls her shoulders, and takes on her altmode, engine purring. She's got a criminal to catch.
She's not even sure how she got here. How she went from loathing to apathy to lust.
The war was forever and a day ago. But also just a blink. She remembers some of it vividly. Other parts are grainy like archival footage.
And she certainly hadn't expected that running across Lockdown on the aft end of the galaxy would have led to this.
This being the frantic push-pull of two frames. A hook lodged around one armor plate. Her fingers gripping a waist nearly narrower than her own. His plating as marked and heated as hers. Energon on her lips from a violent kiss, energon on his chin from her retaliation.
She is the one who challenges. He rises to the bait, purring at her with vocals that make her spark sing. Charge crackles between them, too much and too soon and not enough.
The aftermath leaves her panting and him dazed.
And she thinks that there are better ways to extract information, though certainly less pleasurable. Lockdown can only think to offer her a trophy. She refuses, unless he's willing to part with something he truly values.
“All I got is my spark, sweetheart,” he purrs.
It might come to the point where Arcee takes it. But for now, she leaves him sprawled on the floor of his ship, knowing she'll be back. And he knows it too, if that blown kiss is any indication. He must have spent too much time on Earth.
In the streetlight, Arcee frowns at the scrapes in her paint. Souvenirs on their own, she thinks.
If only Ratchet could see her now. Wouldn't he be appalled?
Arcee smirks, rolls her shoulders, and takes on her altmode, engine purring. She's got a criminal to catch.
Prompt: “Waiting for the End,” Linkin Park
Universe: G1 (related to Damaged Goods)
Characters: Ratchet, Hoist, Perceptor, Red Alert kind of
It was the hardest decision he'd ever made.
Harder than leaving their home, turning his back on the memories of a lifetime spent together. He couldn't bring anything with him and even if he could, it was better that he didn't.
There was no note, no explanation. One shouldn't have been needed. He'd made his position clear long ago.
It still hurt to leave.
But this... this was harder.
“Are you sure?” Hoist asked him in the prep room as he attached numerous devices to his chassis.
He didn't hesitate. “Yes,” he said and signed the paperwork to confirm his choice.
Hoist was both sad and relieved. He offered luck and left, hugging the datapad with his signature.
“Are you sure?” Perceptor asked, holding what would be his new future in shaking hands.
He tried to smile, but his spark was hammering in his chamber, excitement or trepidation, he wasn't sure. “Yes,” he said. Again.
Perceptor nodded. “Very well.”
Ratchet leaned over him, blocking out the sterile bright light. “Are you sure?”
Final time. One last chance to back down, to change his mind.
He offlined his optics and pointedly did not think of the past or the future.
“Yes,” he said, one last time.
“Then I'll see you on the other side,” Ratchet said.
No, he thought, you won't. Because that was the beauty of this. He wouldn't wake up again.
But Red Alert would.
New frame. New life. New beginning.
Yes, he thought. I'm sure.
a/n: Tomorrow, Flash Fiction Friday returns. Huzzah! Hope to see you all there. :)
Harder than leaving their home, turning his back on the memories of a lifetime spent together. He couldn't bring anything with him and even if he could, it was better that he didn't.
There was no note, no explanation. One shouldn't have been needed. He'd made his position clear long ago.
It still hurt to leave.
But this... this was harder.
“Are you sure?” Hoist asked him in the prep room as he attached numerous devices to his chassis.
He didn't hesitate. “Yes,” he said and signed the paperwork to confirm his choice.
Hoist was both sad and relieved. He offered luck and left, hugging the datapad with his signature.
“Are you sure?” Perceptor asked, holding what would be his new future in shaking hands.
He tried to smile, but his spark was hammering in his chamber, excitement or trepidation, he wasn't sure. “Yes,” he said. Again.
Perceptor nodded. “Very well.”
Ratchet leaned over him, blocking out the sterile bright light. “Are you sure?”
Final time. One last chance to back down, to change his mind.
He offlined his optics and pointedly did not think of the past or the future.
“Yes,” he said, one last time.
“Then I'll see you on the other side,” Ratchet said.
No, he thought, you won't. Because that was the beauty of this. He wouldn't wake up again.
But Red Alert would.
New frame. New life. New beginning.
Yes, he thought. I'm sure.
a/n: Tomorrow, Flash Fiction Friday returns. Huzzah! Hope to see you all there. :)
