Flash Fiction Fills Take 63 Part One
Sep. 18th, 2015 02:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: The first three of twenty-four flash fiction. Wahoo!
For: Prattanon
Prompt: Megatron and Optimus Maximus. How are you like your gestalt members? How have you differentiated yourself from their attitude and values?
It was a good question.
Optimus sipped at his energon, his gaze lowered to the table.
“I am–”
Dirty. Broken. Rebuilding. Never going to get clean, but I have to keep trying because there has to be something better. I need cloths and washracks and soaps, lots of soap. Tired of the voices in my head, can’t get them out, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.
He paused. Reconsidered.
“It was–”
So much power and I can’t even use it, can’t control it. I am under-over-whelmed and there’s nothing I can do about it. I am powerful and powerless and the numbers don’t add up. Consumed. Beneath. Without victory. It has to be done. It must be done. Don’t make me beg.
He rebooted his vocalizer. He took another sip of energon to moisten his glossa. “Why do you ask me that?” Optimus redirected.
Baleful red optics stared back at him from a faceplate distressingly neutral. “I once battled a creature composed of hundreds of Decepticons. I find myself both curious and horrified at the prospect of sharing mind and body with four strangers.”
Optimus shook his helm. “They were not strangers. They were fellow soldiers and friends.”
Megatron laughed at him, despite the weight of the sins on his shoulders and the Autobot badge staring back at Optimus. A badge he did not deserve to wear.
No. That thought had not been Optimus’.
“I’m not sure you can call all of them ‘friend’, Optimus,” Megatron replied with a fanged smirk. “Considering some of their deeds, I’m surprised you still call half of them Autobots.”
Optimus frowned and would have triggered his battle mask if Megatron would not have seen such a gesture as a weakness. “Yes,” he said, dryly. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Nowadays they’ll let anyone wear the badge.”
He paused, optics cycling wide. Where… had that come from?
There was a beat of silence. Megatron laughed. He leaned forward, propping his chin on the heel of his hand and his elbow on the table. “Mmm. I think I like you like this, Prime. It makes you more honest. So tell me again, since you haven’t answered me yet, how are you like your gestalt?”
Optimus toyed with his energon. “I am–”
Confused. This ain’t the future I envisioned. This ain’t the dream I had. Nothin’ makes sense and all I need’s a villain. Point me in the right direction, show me the way, cause politics ain’t my thing, but I’m playing them anyway and here I am with these traitors and if no one’s got anyone else’s back than I will. Cause that’s what I do.
His processor ached. Optimus ground his denta. He could feel Megatron staring at him and he knew he had to come up with something plausible before Megatron started to think he had some kind of edge. This was a very dangerous game.
Optimus rebooted his vocalizer.
Hate. Swallow it down. Discomfort and loathing. Peace has been made, but forgiveness yet to be earned. Forgiveness is a process, not a couple of words and a smile. My solitude has been stripped. I am not me, and there are no secrets, and I cannot function like this. I am a creature of secrets and solitude. What have you done to me?
Optimus snagged the energon and consumed it one fell swoop. He jerked to his pedes, nearly throwing his chair at the wall behind him, until he whirled to catch it. His helm ached. His spark pulsed. His fingers twitched.
He felt… not himself. Incomplete. He was missing something.
“You seem disturbed, Prime.” Megatron smirked at him. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, Autobot badge still prominently displayed.
Rip it off.
It’s not his to wear.
He poisons everything he touches.
We all need a chance.
Optimus shook his helm. The world spun. “This conversation is over,” he said, firmly. “I don’t know why you summoned me in the first place, Megatron, but I do not have time for your games.”
He strode around the table and aimed for the door. He had nothing more to say to the former Decepticon commander. He couldn’t afford to question himself and his decisions. He was Prime. He had to be firm.
“You can walk away, Optimus, but that doesn’t change the reason why I am here,” Megatron said with a laugh. “You’ll have to face these questions sooner or later.”
Optimus whirled back toward him, a retort on his lips, and stared at an empty chair. He wobbled, grabbing the wall for balance.
Megatron was gone.
If he’d ever been there at all.
A small cry escaped Optimus and he staggered back, his aft plate hitting the wall. He pressed his palm against his optics. He cycled a ventilation.
And still the voices in his head tried to drown him out.
For Nkfloofiepoof
Prompt: Grimlock/Dinobots/Starscream, He didn’t quite understand until that moment just what it meant that the Dinobots were a package deal
It started with Swoop.
Starscream had just taken to the air for a nice solo flight when he found himself no longer alone. Swoop soared alongside him, easily matching Starscream’s leisurely speed.
“You Starscream fly beautifully,” he said over open comms.
“Thank you, Swoop.” Starscream resisted the urge to preen. He banked to the right and Swoop copied him.
It couldn’t hurt to be nice. Grimlock would appreciate it.
“You aren’t doing so bad yourself,” Starscream replied.
Swoop squawked. His field flushed with embarrassment.
“Thank you,” he said and he took off.
Bemused, Starscream watched him go.
Sludge showed up next, outside Starscream’s office, clutching a crumpled bouquet of metallic flowers from Bluestreak’s shop.
“For you Starscream,” he said as he thrust them toward Starscream, the metallic petals clinking together. “Because you Starscream shine as pretty.”
“Thank you, Sludge.” He accepted the somewhat dented bundle. “That was very thoughtful.”
Sludge shuffled his pedes. “You Starscream welcome. Um. You have good day.”
He was gone as quickly as he’d arrived. Well, quickly for Sludge.
Starscream smiled to himself, set the flowers in his stylus cup, and went back to work.
Slag showed up at his midday energon break, intercepting Starscream before he could get to the dispenser and shoving a box toward Starscream. The delicately tied bow bobbed at him.
“Take it,” Slag all but growled, his horns quivering with repressed emotion.
Starscream blinked. “Thank you?” The box had a weight to it that suggested it was full of energon goodies. He recognized the symbol on the top – it had come from Brawl’s cafe.
“You Starscream should enjoy,” Slag said aggressively. “It sweet like you!”
And then he stormed off as though greatly offended, leaving Starscream to blink again. He pulled off the ribbon and sure enough, there were energon candies inside. His favorite brand of sweet and sour flavors, too.
Starscream shrugged and took his treats back to his office.
In the washracks, he felt a presence behind him, and turned to see Snarl inching into view, his face set into a glower but his hands clutching two bottles on the verge of exploding.
“These better,” he said as he set them on the shelf just inside the wall. “For you Starscream.”
Starscream turned and let the water beat down on his wings. “Another gift for me?”
Snarl hovered in the opening. “You Starscream smart,” he said. “You figure it out.” He puffed up, all defensive, and then spun on a heelstrut, almost stomping out of the washracks.
Starscream cycled his optics and picked up one of the bottles, whistling in appreciation. This was the best stuff. Sunstreaker and Tracks’ blend. Well, he was starting to feel just a little spoiled.
It left him in a fine mood as he headed back to the habsuite he and Grimlock were sharing. He keyed in the code and walked inside as it opened, words already on the tip of his glossa.
“I’m back!” he called out as he swept his gaze through the front and found no sign of his errant partner. “You know, the strangest thing happened today. I kept getting visits from your brothers and–”
Starscream came to a halt. He blinked in surprise. He stared, from the open doorway of their shared berth, as five Dinobots lounged in various places around the room. Grimlock was on the berth with Swoop cuddled up beside him and Slag perched at his pedes. Sludge and Snarl were on the chair nearby, the poor thing creaking under their combined mass.
Starscream folded his arms over his chestplate. “Not strange after all, I take it.” His orbital ridges crawled upward. “Is this what you meant when you said the Dinobots were a package deal?”
Grimlock chuckled and stroked a finger down Swoop’s wing. “Knew you’d figure it out. Any objections?”
Starscream’s gaze skimmed over each one of the Dinobots in turn. His wings flicked and he strutted further into the room, letting the door shut behind him. “None at all.”
For MegaMom Anon
Prompt: Megatron is preggers, who's the baby daddy featuring the Decepticon version of *Maury
It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize what his lingering discomfort, sudden and voracious need for facing, and increased energon consumption meant. It took all the control he had not to backhand Hook when the mech smirked at him and confirmed his suspicions.
But it was Scavenger’s innocent, “Who’s the donor?” that really sent Megatron into a loop.
Because, errr, he didn’t know.
Megatron was not a one-mech Decepticon. He had no interest in monogamy, and he had little interest in repeating his partners. He liked variety. He liked different flavors.
All he wanted was a little quiet time, a little privacy, to maybe count backward and possibly pinpoint who had left him in this state. That way he could remove their spike from their frame and demand to know why they didn’t have their fostering lock activated.
But what he hadn’t noticed, during Hook’s bland and amused announcement, was that Skywarp was in the next room due to a warping mishap. And what Skywarp knows, everyone on the Nemesis finds out almost immediately.
The pinging at his door was relentless. Everyone from Starscream to Motormaster to Barricade to Soundwave were swinging by with mingled looks of hope and dread in their optics. He even turned down two comm calls – two! – from the Autobots because somehow they had found out and Optimus and Jazz both wanted to inquire as to the identity of the donor.
Damn Prime’s invisible noble spy to the Pits and back.
And now there was fighting outside his door. Fantastic.
Megatron hauled himself to his pedes, slammed the door open, and walked into chaos. He stared with wide optics as snarling, snapping, clawing, biting, shouting, and mayhem reigned in the hallway.
They were… arguing? Over whose bitlet it possibly was?
Wait, no. Soundwave wasn’t participating. He wasn’t even here, though Megatron could see Ravage lurking in the overhead vents. Not that it mattered. A few quick calculations put his third in command out of the running. Better luck next time Soundwave.
Megatron’s hackles rose. He lifted his fusion cannon and fired three shots into the worst of the fray, not caring who he struck.
Brawl yelped.
Ramjet howled.
Reflector squirmed free.
Silence slowly took charge as Megatron’s Decepticons turned toward him with a mixture of glee and anticipation and in some case’s – Starscream – sullen contempt.
“I will inform you the identity when I know it,” Megatron snarled, his words cutting through the air like energon daggers. “And not before then. No amount of fighting, harassing, stalking, and continuous calling will convince me otherwise! Even then, the bitlet is mine and I will decide how much influence the donor gets. Am I understood?”
His wrist twitched. His fusion cannon glowed. He wondered if repeating himself with a few more shots would make his point better.
A sigh of disappointment swept through his gathered Decepticons. They mumbled a chorus of sullen “yes, Lord Megatron” and rose to their pedes, some of them a bit more injured than others.
They slunk away, even Starscream, and Megatron returned to the peace and quiet of his quarters. He picked up the datapad Hook had handed over, and given Hook’s calculations, started to count backward. Should be easy enough except…
Except why did it have to be this particular day?
This day when he’d onlined feeling eager to sate his carnal desires and had happily fragged his way through half of the Nemesis. Including a visit from Optimus’ pet Special Ops spy. No wonder he’d called.
Megatron sighed and palmed his faceplate.
Nothing left to it. He’d have to do a CNA test, which as everyone knew, wasn’t possible until the bitlet was born.
It was going to be a long year.
But on the plus side, it looked like he was going to be spoiled beyond all reason. So maybe there was something to look forward to after all.
a/n: Phew. Those were fun! Only twenty-one more to go.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
