Categories > Cartoons > Transformers > Listening to Shadows
Chapter II
2 reviewsMore snippets inspired by the music meme. Megatron/Optimus. Bee/Sam hints.
3Original
AN: A few more
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Characters: Megatron, Optimus; implications of slash
Song: Beauty of the Beast -- Nightwish
There had always been a savage beauty about him, Optimus thought. Even when they were younglings, playing together on the outskirts of their home in the Northern sectors of Cybertron.
It existed in the breadth of his smile, that flash of razor sharp mandenta, in the narrowed optics that had always been able to predict and track Optimus’ every move; in the way he ran, all controlled motion and fluid grace that Optimus himself had been hopeless at replicating; he was lucky he had managed to get around without tripping over his own pedes.
And even now, watching him jump and dive and transform in mid air, moving as though 'hell were after him' as the humans might say, Optimus couldn't help but admire the swiftness of the movement, the way the components all collapsed and folded together to create the form of the Cybertronian jet.
And when Optimus landed his grip on Megatron, he couldn't help but take the minutest moment to stroke his fingers over the smooth plating of the jet's wings. And he heard, beneath the sounds of battle, the slightest catch in Megatron's intakes just before they both hit the ground.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Character: ?
Song: The Cookie Factory -- Edward Scissorhands OST
He'd always been smaller than the other bots.
That was just the way he'd been sparked, the way his creator had been inspired: to craft a form that was smooth and lithe, made for fast movements, made for fitting into tight places that so many others couldn't breach.
Little did either of them know how handy his shape and form would one day be.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Characters: Bee, Sam
Song: The No Seatbelt Song -- Brand New
The first thing Sam noticed when he came to was that he couldn't see. A few moments of of startled panic and then a familiar voice called out to him.
"You're going to have to online your optics."
He heard steps on the floor, the voice moving closer and then launching into a series of instructions that he somehow managed to follow and then the world went from black to grey static to color.
He stared up at a steel ceiling and heavy industrial lights, tried to blink and couldn't.
"I'll teach you how to use the optic cleaning components later," said the voice again and Ratchet came into view above him.
"Think you can you sit up? --Don't try to speak," the last was spat out quickly as Sam went to open a mouth that felt both familiar and undeniably strange. "Just shake or nod; I think you can manage that."
He nodded, paused, and then tensed stomach muscles that he knew were no longer there. He felt the barest tension along the area of his stomach. Not enough to sit up.
"That's what I thought," said with no condemnation but perhaps a little bit of bone-deep weariness. Then an arm was sliding under him, pulling him into a sitting position, and Ratchet's hands were placing his own flat on the table, securing him, helping him find a position that kept him balanced upright, if a little slumped.
Sam didn't need to look down to see that his own hands would now resemble the CMO’s.
Instead he looked--as much as he could with his new eyes...optics—-around the med lab, empty aside from himself and Ratchet and...Bumblebee, curled up in a far corner, optics blazing blue as a desert sky and watching him.
"I couldn't--" Bumblebee started, his vocal processor giving way to static before coming back, hitching and faint with the faintest mechanical wail, "I couldn't just leave you there, Sam."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Characters: Megatron, Optimus; implications of slash
Song: Beauty of the Beast -- Nightwish
There had always been a savage beauty about him, Optimus thought. Even when they were younglings, playing together on the outskirts of their home in the Northern sectors of Cybertron.
It existed in the breadth of his smile, that flash of razor sharp mandenta, in the narrowed optics that had always been able to predict and track Optimus’ every move; in the way he ran, all controlled motion and fluid grace that Optimus himself had been hopeless at replicating; he was lucky he had managed to get around without tripping over his own pedes.
And even now, watching him jump and dive and transform in mid air, moving as though 'hell were after him' as the humans might say, Optimus couldn't help but admire the swiftness of the movement, the way the components all collapsed and folded together to create the form of the Cybertronian jet.
And when Optimus landed his grip on Megatron, he couldn't help but take the minutest moment to stroke his fingers over the smooth plating of the jet's wings. And he heard, beneath the sounds of battle, the slightest catch in Megatron's intakes just before they both hit the ground.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Character: ?
Song: The Cookie Factory -- Edward Scissorhands OST
He'd always been smaller than the other bots.
That was just the way he'd been sparked, the way his creator had been inspired: to craft a form that was smooth and lithe, made for fast movements, made for fitting into tight places that so many others couldn't breach.
Little did either of them know how handy his shape and form would one day be.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Characters: Bee, Sam
Song: The No Seatbelt Song -- Brand New
The first thing Sam noticed when he came to was that he couldn't see. A few moments of of startled panic and then a familiar voice called out to him.
"You're going to have to online your optics."
He heard steps on the floor, the voice moving closer and then launching into a series of instructions that he somehow managed to follow and then the world went from black to grey static to color.
He stared up at a steel ceiling and heavy industrial lights, tried to blink and couldn't.
"I'll teach you how to use the optic cleaning components later," said the voice again and Ratchet came into view above him.
"Think you can you sit up? --Don't try to speak," the last was spat out quickly as Sam went to open a mouth that felt both familiar and undeniably strange. "Just shake or nod; I think you can manage that."
He nodded, paused, and then tensed stomach muscles that he knew were no longer there. He felt the barest tension along the area of his stomach. Not enough to sit up.
"That's what I thought," said with no condemnation but perhaps a little bit of bone-deep weariness. Then an arm was sliding under him, pulling him into a sitting position, and Ratchet's hands were placing his own flat on the table, securing him, helping him find a position that kept him balanced upright, if a little slumped.
Sam didn't need to look down to see that his own hands would now resemble the CMO’s.
Instead he looked--as much as he could with his new eyes...optics—-around the med lab, empty aside from himself and Ratchet and...Bumblebee, curled up in a far corner, optics blazing blue as a desert sky and watching him.
"I couldn't--" Bumblebee started, his vocal processor giving way to static before coming back, hitching and faint with the faintest mechanical wail, "I couldn't just leave you there, Sam."
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