TF ficlet

[okami_hu]

Done for lyricality, on tf_ficathon Slashy ficcy, very slight Ratchet/Optimus, the prompt was "The only time Prime willingly submits"


He sits on the examination table, his wounds already treated. It's quiet and Optimus likes this, the momentary peace after all the battles, the raging engines, the explosions, the screams...

His optics flicker off, but the pictures still remain etched into his memory banks – comrades falling, humans dieing, another victory which tastes like stale fuel. He shudders and shakes his head. The strain is becoming too much.

Ratchet observes the leader quietly. He's not just the healer of the body; he knows the soul as well, and he can tell by the sagging shoulders, the involuntary, uncertain little gestures, that Optimus is troubled. Again. He's troubled too often, bearing the terrible weight of this war, and the tension will go on his nerves.

So the medic steps closer and places a gentle hand on the red shoulders. Optimus cringes, then looks at his old friend apologetically. "I was spacing..."

"You need to relax,' Ratchet says softly, and his hand travels down on the leader's arm. "Optimus, please. All the tension will cause serious malfunctions sooner or later. You need to unwind a little."

"I'm well," Optimus protests half-heartedly and he doesn't make any attempts to get away. Ratchet has a way with his hands, their touch is soothing, reassuring, a real medic's touch.

"Do I have to order you?" Ratchet steps in front of the leader and his skilled fingers begin to roam, slipping over surfaces, diving into tiny crevices, and Optimus can't hold back a moan.

"I shouldn't-" he begins, but Ratchet taps at the leader's faceplate. "Quiet. I'll tell the others this will take a while. Until I'm back, lie down and relax. For your own sake." His smile turns amazingly gentle. "I know you need this. Just this time, let yourself be defeated."

He leaves, and Optimus leans back, still a bit hesitant. But he, too, knows, that Ratchet's right, and he trusts the medic.

After all the bitter victories, a sweet defeat seems to be quite a promising option.



EDIT: meh, adding the rest.

For 295_39, Skyfire and an old friend, worth of a PG perhaps; prompt was a song quote


Anybody, who says transformers do not dream, is a liar.

Because what could it be, if not a dream, when a familiar whisper rings in Skyfire's audio-sensors as he's trying to recover the lost energy, almost completely fallen into his recharge cycle but not yet fully? What could it be, but a simple, small failure in the system, when he feels light touches, slender but strong hands ghosting over his massive white form? It's nothing but false stimulation, conjured up by an exhausted brain, when he sees an old friend's - hated enemy's - form lean above him.

Still, the knowledge, that it is not real, does not stop Skyfire's neuro-system to react. Core temperature rises, hydraulics malfunction, resulting in fine tremors, and the energon speeds up inside him, building the tension.

His overheated processors fail to notice, that his hands are moving, because Skyfire wouldn't do that. All he still registers are sounds: his own cracked voice, whispering endearments into the darkness; and a malicious chuckle teasing him cruelly. Noble autobot, you lie, you don't love me. "I... did-" Skyfire chokes it out and the other responds with another chuckle, dripping with sweet venom: "Who am I, Skyfire?"

And the jet's body arches, his senses shut off as the excess energy surges through every wire inside, and he cries out, a once-precious name: "Starscream!"


For mishey_22, Prompt was cartoons. Lamborghini brothers (Sidesweep and Sunstreaker, that is), G.


The Lamborghini brothers dig pretty much everything Earth can offer – cartoons, too. They would sit in front to the TV all Saturday morning, wouldn't they have something else to do.

But when they don't, and they can watch their favorite shows, nearly sitting in each other's lap, optics wide, commenting, arguing, cheering at their 2D heroes, the older 'bots can't help but smile. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are so young, and their youthful enthusiasm is so refreshing.

But the brothers don't care about the others right now – on the screen, a terrible battle comes to the final showdown, between the fearfully beautiful dark antagonist, and the young hope of the universe. Sunstreaker, like a human child, clings to his brother's arm, as the frail creature is hit and the battle seems to be lost, but thank the Matrix, in a few minutes, Light defeats Darkness and everything is well. Sideswipe switches off the TV and stretches. "This was good!"

"Awesome!" Sunstreaker agrees, and sighs wistfully. "It would be neat if we had a Silver Crystal, like Sailor Moon...! If it can defeat demons, sure it would work well against the Decepticons."