Genre fill response - first version
Title: Trading Footnotes
Rating: K+
WARNING: mentions of death and betrayl
Characters: ANY TWO CANON members
Author Notes: Robot 1 writing, Transformers 2 responding
T-Verse: Any Transformers realm
Summary: Series of exchanges with the ‘enemy’ may lead to bold and extreme reactions.
Prompt #1 Epistolary: write an exchange of letters to tell your story
I despise earth!
It is nothing like home -minimal metals, no awe-inspiring skyscrapers, no fancy animation - the locals are … ugh, let’s not talk about the locals or their lack of manners and lack of respect to power.
Earth is less than nothing.
I wish this stupid war had never started.
Despise earth?
Hatred might be a better selection.
Earth looks enough like home that the longing for the past doesn’t ever fade - never.
No skyscrapers that reach beyond the atmosphere, yet it has mountains that surpass all natural ridges of Cybertron. The cliffs and canyons go deeper than our cities ever burrowed.
Earth reminds me too much of a lost home. (At last you can ignore the locals!)
What are you talking about? The short lived squishes reside everywhere! There is no escape on land!
They lack power to back their threats, yet they demand information in trade for scraps. Are they mad? Or suicidal?
Give rebellious locals knowledge on how to build better weapons - not happening!
In that we agree.
The locals have a history of violence. Not one city district is immune to murder. They can’t even unite under one leader, changing loyalty as often as we refuel! Fighting amidst themselves … THEY are the real barbarians that should be educated and raised to a higher standard.
If it weren’t for the incomprehensibility, the locals, and their manipulations would make their world an adequate replacement for home- at least, until home is repaired enough for habitation.
This war is stupid!
Why are we even fighting ourselves?
Earth has the resources and materials we need to rebuild!
Take it from the wasteful - WE CAN put it to good use!
I dare you tell your illustrious leader that!
If we could work together, how long until this planet is as lifeless and dead as home?
This war is no longer about ideology.
(There are some points your leader has made that I agree with - but the methods he’s chosen to use to accomplish the goals … NO. The ends do not justify the means)
Do I look terminally stupid?
If I told anyone what I really though, - that this war is a wasted effort and we should stop fighting, and put that energy into looking for a new place to call home - the results would not be pretty.
I still despise earth.
Earth’s residents are not the danger you seem they are. They are just different.
They seem content to be both a community and individuals - any other species would (and has) self-destruct in that mix of impossibilities.
Humans, thrive - and bring forth ideals that destabilize us.
No other species, no other ally (or enemy, or prey), will/has caused us to examine ourselves to find the cause of our self destructive hatred.
I suppose only humans can cause enemies to unite.
You got that right, AutoDork!
These introspective thoughts are killing me.
Screemer’s taken insubordination to a whole new level since awakening on this mudball.
Dishing out destruction and ruin isn’t exhilarating anymore.
Not when I just want to see my city restored to its previous beauty.
Stop name-calling, ConScum! That reveals the lack of higher though processors needed to remove the scars of battle.
Right now, the idea of beautifying remains is laughable - as is the idea you don’t want to see me deactivate!
To rebuild and start new, the leaders and officers have got to go.
Can you manage it on your side?
I have a few contingency plans that will work on my end -if certain criteria and conditions are me.
… possibly. ….
Won’t be easy - they are my friends.
Just, spare me the details.
That is why friends are a liability - they make you weak, unable to fend for yourself. This war needs to end.
Wasn’t going to say anything anyway - beyond a list of ‘this needs to happen so x can be eliminated’
Have I mentioned that I despise earth?
I hate it too - -the locals more than the planet itself.
They entertain the idea of betrayal and succeed in mutiny.
. . .
Can’t believe I’m setting up my leader to die.
. . .
Make it painless and fast.
No promises.
Glorious leader will do anything to win - including arrange for his own destruction.
You far enough from the epicenter to survive the coming wave of violence?
Orders are orders.
If I’m ordered to die, I will.
Not sure I want to live, knowing I et up my commander to be killed.
I cannot continue writing to you
Talk of ending the war once and for all destroys something that untold vorns of malicious battles and death could not?
You sure you got your priorities straight?
… … …
TIME PASSES
… … …
I know you’re still alive.
Can’t we renew our acquaintance/
You’re the only one I knew from before, who will still talk to me.
Should have thought the consequences through fist.
I made new acquaintances during the war - and moved on after everyone I knew died.
It’s time for you to do the same.
Title: Hidden aspects
Rating: PG
Characters: Optimus Prime
T-Verse: Any Transformers - G1
Summary: How big a differences does gender actually play - or is it all society roles and traditional teachings that impart the biggest influence on us?
Prompt #2 pick AU from list - Mine: personal history changed/character born a different gender
“I can’t do this!’ A red and white figure shouted while pacing a back room. “I can’t be prime! The senate won’t accept me”
“Optimus,” Alpha Trion soothed the nascent Prime.
“Arial.” The one called Optimus interrupted.
Alpha Trio stepped before the untested youngster. “You are Optimus now. Your rebuild requires a new name.” He reached forward.
“What if I don’t want to be Prime?” Optimus slapped the hands away. “Why couldn’t Orion take the roll? Or Dion? They wished to be someone great!”
Alpha Trion looked at Optimus, waited until the rebuilt Arial returned the look. “It is you the Matrix of Leadership responded to - you! Not Orion, not Dion. It is your destiny.”
“Frag destiny!” Optimus screamed. “I don’t want the job - let a mech, any mech, take it. Ruling is not my role. No femme rules, No femme reigns. And no mech trusts any femme with power or authority over him!”
“That is why your new name is imperative.” Alpha Trio was relentless. “Do you not recall the story of Primus, or the legend of Solus Prime? They were femmes - and they led us into great prosperity.” He reached forward again, this time able to rest his hands on her arms. “You have a calling. Do not let others dictate your life to you.”
“I thought you said it was tradition for Primes to be renamed,” a calmer Optimus said.
“That too,” AlphaTrion smiled.
“Then why can’t I take up the title of Elita 1, or be renamed Arcee? Why Optimus? Shouldn’t’ my new name reflect my past designation?”
Alpha Trion hadn’t expected the question so soon. Then again, most new Primes chose their designations, “Tradition dictates that the one accepted by The Matrix of Leadership gains the title of Prime. The Elita ranks are a fairly new addition to the positions of authority. The council is too log jammed to accept a femme Prime, let alone all the changes you’re going to implement.
Optimus stared at Alpha Trion. “Ho do you know I’m going to be making changes?”
“Every Prime chosen by the Matrix makes changes. It is only those placeholders selected by the Council (and accepted by the Matrix) who do nothing with their position.”
Optimus prime resumed pacing at the peds of the grayed forms of Orion and Dion. “Couldn’t’ you have saved them too?”
“Optimus,” Alpha Trion vented. “I did what I could. It is up to you to remember them, and to keep their memory alive.
“Great, not only do I get to be the ultimate leader, but I have to hold onto the past as well.”
“NO!” Alpha Trion spoke harshly. “Do not hold onto the past - but do not forget the sacrifices made. Forgive those who would hurt you.”
Optimus Prime did not understand, yet he nodded anyway.
“Take care . . . old friend,” Optimus said before he left.
Alpha Trion turned his back once the nascent Prime had turned the corner. “Good luck my child. You’re going to need it.”
… … …
TIME PASSES
… … …
VORNS GO BY
… … …
It was the Primes bodyguard who first spoke up. “Optimus,” Ironhide drawled after securing the temporary command bunker and removing all electronic warfare bugs, snoops and drones. “I can teach you to shoot.”
“I already know how to fight, Ironhide,” Optimus reassured the mech.
Ironhide made sure he stayed by the wall, optics focusing on the air vent before sweeping the room. “Not sayin’ you can’t fight. But you shoot like a femme.” He ignored the quiet intake of breath. “Course, seeing as you are a femme, can’t do much ‘bout that. Except retrain ya’ in shooting.”
“How long?” Anger simmered beneath the tightly controlled voice. “Who?”
Ironhide shrugged. “Ain’t telling nobody - if they can’t see it, they don’t need to know.”
“How long?”
“Reckon’ bout the time the Senate was taken out by the bomb.” Ironhide finally traded a knowing look with Optimus. “Ya hide it very well. Almost did na’ recognize it, seein as Primes are like no one else, past or present. Still, your shooting style, your targeting, dead giveaway.”
Optimus lowly nodded. “I will consider your offer.”
“All I ask, Prime.”
… … …
TIME PASSES
… … …
VORNS GO BY
… … …
“Skyfire, you wished to see me?”
“Yes. Please, sit.” Skyfire gestured towards the oversized chairs in his lab. The two seats were the only ones adjusted for Skyfire’s giant frame, which meant they made all visitors in them look like overgrown children.
Skyfire put two cubes of purloined energon on the side table between them, before taking his seat. “It’s nice to see a femme Prime again.” The shuttle began.
Optimus chocked on his energon. “Excuse me?” He asked after the coughing fit subsided.
Skyfire was astonished. “You mean you didn’t know?”
“Know what?” Optimus worked valiantly to hide his testiness.
“The entire Ark crew knows you’re a femme. And they don’t care! You are Prime, the fact you happen to be a femme is only a side note.” Skyfire hastened to assure Optimus. “Femme or mech, it makes no difference - to them, your past does not change how they see you.”
“They see me as Optimus.”
“No.” Corrected Skyfire. “They see you as Prime. Their Prime.”
Optimus fingered the cube in his hands. “Mecha can be primes. Not femmes.”
“B.S.” Skyfire sipped his energon. “I knew Solas Prime. I am descended from Primas, - They were femmes and they were Primes.
“Society cannot dictate who or what you can be, based on birth critera - So Stop believing the propaganda that femmes cannot lead.
“You are descended from one of the first thirteen?” Optimus asked. At Skfire’s nod, “Tell me about them.”
Skyfire started talking. He had intended to ask Optimus Prime to allow him to teach the humans about long-forgotten Cybertronian culture (and wanted to get the input of the other Transformers, to see what social issues he’d bypassed during his icy recharge).
Title: You’ve Got a Friend in me
Rating: K+
Characters: Fireflight and Blades
T-Verse: Any Transformers series
Summary: Underlying issues can cause more emotional pain than physical abuse. War has too much of both.
Prompt # 3 Hurt/Comfort: A character suffers some kind of trauma, physical or emotional, and another character at least tries to comfort them
“There you are,” Fireflight grinned triumphantly. “Do you know how hard it was to find you?”
“Go away,” Blades muttered.
“Nu uh.” Fireflight flopped down beside the Protectobot Helicopter. “No bot should suffer alone.”
Blades glared at the intruding Autobot. “Maybe I don’t want company.”
“Sure you don’t.” Fireflight waved a hand at the Spartan room, making sure he stirred up the dust disturbed by his arrival. “It’s why you pushed your gestalt away.” He snorted, pulled out a couple of high grade cubes.
“Willing to talk about it now, or after getting totally sloshed?”
Blades eyed the offered fuel. “Nothing’s bothering me.” He insisted.
Fireflight shrugged. Leaned against the wall and waited, saying nothing. The energon cubes were within easy reach of them both.
After a while, Blades grabbed a cube. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“It’s being persistent,” Fireflight corrected. “And my gestalt knows all my tricks.
A snort. “Sure they do.” Blades closed his optics. “Thanks for being a friend.”
“You’re welcome.” Fireflight glanced over when Blades didn’t respond. He shuttered his own optics. “Finally, common sense returns.”
Title: Gentle fluff -
Rating: PG13
Characters: Ratchet and Moonracer
T-Verse: Any Transformers - G1
Summary: Simple friendships can turn into something more.
Prompt #4 Shipping: anything - almost fluff gentle
WARNINGS: None - implications only
“I love you,” Ratchet held Moonracer’s hands in his own.
“I love you too,” she responded, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Comfortable?”
“Extremely. You’re better than any pillow.”
“Hmp.” Grumbling. “been listening to human sweet talk each other, haven’t you?”
“They are rather prolific.”
“Prolific?” Ratchet picked up Moonracer, carrying her bridal style. “Does that mean you want to go again?”
Moonracer giggled. “Only with you, my love.” She gave him a peck on the nose. “Only with you, my beloved.”
“No one else,” Ratchet admitted huskily. “Never anyone else.”
“I am my beloved’s.” Moonracer whispered in his ear. “My beloved is mine.”
Rating: K+
WARNING: mentions of death and betrayl
Characters: ANY TWO CANON members
Author Notes: Robot 1 writing, Transformers 2 responding
T-Verse: Any Transformers realm
Summary: Series of exchanges with the ‘enemy’ may lead to bold and extreme reactions.
Prompt #1 Epistolary: write an exchange of letters to tell your story
I despise earth!
It is nothing like home -minimal metals, no awe-inspiring skyscrapers, no fancy animation - the locals are … ugh, let’s not talk about the locals or their lack of manners and lack of respect to power.
Earth is less than nothing.
I wish this stupid war had never started.
Despise earth?
Hatred might be a better selection.
Earth looks enough like home that the longing for the past doesn’t ever fade - never.
No skyscrapers that reach beyond the atmosphere, yet it has mountains that surpass all natural ridges of Cybertron. The cliffs and canyons go deeper than our cities ever burrowed.
Earth reminds me too much of a lost home. (At last you can ignore the locals!)
What are you talking about? The short lived squishes reside everywhere! There is no escape on land!
They lack power to back their threats, yet they demand information in trade for scraps. Are they mad? Or suicidal?
Give rebellious locals knowledge on how to build better weapons - not happening!
In that we agree.
The locals have a history of violence. Not one city district is immune to murder. They can’t even unite under one leader, changing loyalty as often as we refuel! Fighting amidst themselves … THEY are the real barbarians that should be educated and raised to a higher standard.
If it weren’t for the incomprehensibility, the locals, and their manipulations would make their world an adequate replacement for home- at least, until home is repaired enough for habitation.
This war is stupid!
Why are we even fighting ourselves?
Earth has the resources and materials we need to rebuild!
Take it from the wasteful - WE CAN put it to good use!
I dare you tell your illustrious leader that!
If we could work together, how long until this planet is as lifeless and dead as home?
This war is no longer about ideology.
(There are some points your leader has made that I agree with - but the methods he’s chosen to use to accomplish the goals … NO. The ends do not justify the means)
Do I look terminally stupid?
If I told anyone what I really though, - that this war is a wasted effort and we should stop fighting, and put that energy into looking for a new place to call home - the results would not be pretty.
I still despise earth.
Earth’s residents are not the danger you seem they are. They are just different.
They seem content to be both a community and individuals - any other species would (and has) self-destruct in that mix of impossibilities.
Humans, thrive - and bring forth ideals that destabilize us.
No other species, no other ally (or enemy, or prey), will/has caused us to examine ourselves to find the cause of our self destructive hatred.
I suppose only humans can cause enemies to unite.
You got that right, AutoDork!
These introspective thoughts are killing me.
Screemer’s taken insubordination to a whole new level since awakening on this mudball.
Dishing out destruction and ruin isn’t exhilarating anymore.
Not when I just want to see my city restored to its previous beauty.
Stop name-calling, ConScum! That reveals the lack of higher though processors needed to remove the scars of battle.
Right now, the idea of beautifying remains is laughable - as is the idea you don’t want to see me deactivate!
To rebuild and start new, the leaders and officers have got to go.
Can you manage it on your side?
I have a few contingency plans that will work on my end -if certain criteria and conditions are me.
… possibly. ….
Won’t be easy - they are my friends.
Just, spare me the details.
That is why friends are a liability - they make you weak, unable to fend for yourself. This war needs to end.
Wasn’t going to say anything anyway - beyond a list of ‘this needs to happen so x can be eliminated’
Have I mentioned that I despise earth?
I hate it too - -the locals more than the planet itself.
They entertain the idea of betrayal and succeed in mutiny.
. . .
Can’t believe I’m setting up my leader to die.
. . .
Make it painless and fast.
No promises.
Glorious leader will do anything to win - including arrange for his own destruction.
You far enough from the epicenter to survive the coming wave of violence?
Orders are orders.
If I’m ordered to die, I will.
Not sure I want to live, knowing I et up my commander to be killed.
I cannot continue writing to you
Talk of ending the war once and for all destroys something that untold vorns of malicious battles and death could not?
You sure you got your priorities straight?
… … …
TIME PASSES
… … …
I know you’re still alive.
Can’t we renew our acquaintance/
You’re the only one I knew from before, who will still talk to me.
Should have thought the consequences through fist.
I made new acquaintances during the war - and moved on after everyone I knew died.
It’s time for you to do the same.
Title: Hidden aspects
Rating: PG
Characters: Optimus Prime
T-Verse: Any Transformers - G1
Summary: How big a differences does gender actually play - or is it all society roles and traditional teachings that impart the biggest influence on us?
Prompt #2 pick AU from list - Mine: personal history changed/character born a different gender
“I can’t do this!’ A red and white figure shouted while pacing a back room. “I can’t be prime! The senate won’t accept me”
“Optimus,” Alpha Trion soothed the nascent Prime.
“Arial.” The one called Optimus interrupted.
Alpha Trio stepped before the untested youngster. “You are Optimus now. Your rebuild requires a new name.” He reached forward.
“What if I don’t want to be Prime?” Optimus slapped the hands away. “Why couldn’t Orion take the roll? Or Dion? They wished to be someone great!”
Alpha Trion looked at Optimus, waited until the rebuilt Arial returned the look. “It is you the Matrix of Leadership responded to - you! Not Orion, not Dion. It is your destiny.”
“Frag destiny!” Optimus screamed. “I don’t want the job - let a mech, any mech, take it. Ruling is not my role. No femme rules, No femme reigns. And no mech trusts any femme with power or authority over him!”
“That is why your new name is imperative.” Alpha Trio was relentless. “Do you not recall the story of Primus, or the legend of Solus Prime? They were femmes - and they led us into great prosperity.” He reached forward again, this time able to rest his hands on her arms. “You have a calling. Do not let others dictate your life to you.”
“I thought you said it was tradition for Primes to be renamed,” a calmer Optimus said.
“That too,” AlphaTrion smiled.
“Then why can’t I take up the title of Elita 1, or be renamed Arcee? Why Optimus? Shouldn’t’ my new name reflect my past designation?”
Alpha Trion hadn’t expected the question so soon. Then again, most new Primes chose their designations, “Tradition dictates that the one accepted by The Matrix of Leadership gains the title of Prime. The Elita ranks are a fairly new addition to the positions of authority. The council is too log jammed to accept a femme Prime, let alone all the changes you’re going to implement.
Optimus stared at Alpha Trion. “Ho do you know I’m going to be making changes?”
“Every Prime chosen by the Matrix makes changes. It is only those placeholders selected by the Council (and accepted by the Matrix) who do nothing with their position.”
Optimus prime resumed pacing at the peds of the grayed forms of Orion and Dion. “Couldn’t’ you have saved them too?”
“Optimus,” Alpha Trion vented. “I did what I could. It is up to you to remember them, and to keep their memory alive.
“Great, not only do I get to be the ultimate leader, but I have to hold onto the past as well.”
“NO!” Alpha Trion spoke harshly. “Do not hold onto the past - but do not forget the sacrifices made. Forgive those who would hurt you.”
Optimus Prime did not understand, yet he nodded anyway.
“Take care . . . old friend,” Optimus said before he left.
Alpha Trion turned his back once the nascent Prime had turned the corner. “Good luck my child. You’re going to need it.”
… … …
TIME PASSES
… … …
VORNS GO BY
… … …
It was the Primes bodyguard who first spoke up. “Optimus,” Ironhide drawled after securing the temporary command bunker and removing all electronic warfare bugs, snoops and drones. “I can teach you to shoot.”
“I already know how to fight, Ironhide,” Optimus reassured the mech.
Ironhide made sure he stayed by the wall, optics focusing on the air vent before sweeping the room. “Not sayin’ you can’t fight. But you shoot like a femme.” He ignored the quiet intake of breath. “Course, seeing as you are a femme, can’t do much ‘bout that. Except retrain ya’ in shooting.”
“How long?” Anger simmered beneath the tightly controlled voice. “Who?”
Ironhide shrugged. “Ain’t telling nobody - if they can’t see it, they don’t need to know.”
“How long?”
“Reckon’ bout the time the Senate was taken out by the bomb.” Ironhide finally traded a knowing look with Optimus. “Ya hide it very well. Almost did na’ recognize it, seein as Primes are like no one else, past or present. Still, your shooting style, your targeting, dead giveaway.”
Optimus lowly nodded. “I will consider your offer.”
“All I ask, Prime.”
… … …
TIME PASSES
… … …
VORNS GO BY
… … …
“Skyfire, you wished to see me?”
“Yes. Please, sit.” Skyfire gestured towards the oversized chairs in his lab. The two seats were the only ones adjusted for Skyfire’s giant frame, which meant they made all visitors in them look like overgrown children.
Skyfire put two cubes of purloined energon on the side table between them, before taking his seat. “It’s nice to see a femme Prime again.” The shuttle began.
Optimus chocked on his energon. “Excuse me?” He asked after the coughing fit subsided.
Skyfire was astonished. “You mean you didn’t know?”
“Know what?” Optimus worked valiantly to hide his testiness.
“The entire Ark crew knows you’re a femme. And they don’t care! You are Prime, the fact you happen to be a femme is only a side note.” Skyfire hastened to assure Optimus. “Femme or mech, it makes no difference - to them, your past does not change how they see you.”
“They see me as Optimus.”
“No.” Corrected Skyfire. “They see you as Prime. Their Prime.”
Optimus fingered the cube in his hands. “Mecha can be primes. Not femmes.”
“B.S.” Skyfire sipped his energon. “I knew Solas Prime. I am descended from Primas, - They were femmes and they were Primes.
“Society cannot dictate who or what you can be, based on birth critera - So Stop believing the propaganda that femmes cannot lead.
“You are descended from one of the first thirteen?” Optimus asked. At Skfire’s nod, “Tell me about them.”
Skyfire started talking. He had intended to ask Optimus Prime to allow him to teach the humans about long-forgotten Cybertronian culture (and wanted to get the input of the other Transformers, to see what social issues he’d bypassed during his icy recharge).
Title: You’ve Got a Friend in me
Rating: K+
Characters: Fireflight and Blades
T-Verse: Any Transformers series
Summary: Underlying issues can cause more emotional pain than physical abuse. War has too much of both.
Prompt # 3 Hurt/Comfort: A character suffers some kind of trauma, physical or emotional, and another character at least tries to comfort them
“There you are,” Fireflight grinned triumphantly. “Do you know how hard it was to find you?”
“Go away,” Blades muttered.
“Nu uh.” Fireflight flopped down beside the Protectobot Helicopter. “No bot should suffer alone.”
Blades glared at the intruding Autobot. “Maybe I don’t want company.”
“Sure you don’t.” Fireflight waved a hand at the Spartan room, making sure he stirred up the dust disturbed by his arrival. “It’s why you pushed your gestalt away.” He snorted, pulled out a couple of high grade cubes.
“Willing to talk about it now, or after getting totally sloshed?”
Blades eyed the offered fuel. “Nothing’s bothering me.” He insisted.
Fireflight shrugged. Leaned against the wall and waited, saying nothing. The energon cubes were within easy reach of them both.
After a while, Blades grabbed a cube. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“It’s being persistent,” Fireflight corrected. “And my gestalt knows all my tricks.
A snort. “Sure they do.” Blades closed his optics. “Thanks for being a friend.”
“You’re welcome.” Fireflight glanced over when Blades didn’t respond. He shuttered his own optics. “Finally, common sense returns.”
Title: Gentle fluff -
Rating: PG13
Characters: Ratchet and Moonracer
T-Verse: Any Transformers - G1
Summary: Simple friendships can turn into something more.
Prompt #4 Shipping: anything - almost fluff gentle
WARNINGS: None - implications only
“I love you,” Ratchet held Moonracer’s hands in his own.
“I love you too,” she responded, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Comfortable?”
“Extremely. You’re better than any pillow.”
“Hmp.” Grumbling. “been listening to human sweet talk each other, haven’t you?”
“They are rather prolific.”
“Prolific?” Ratchet picked up Moonracer, carrying her bridal style. “Does that mean you want to go again?”
Moonracer giggled. “Only with you, my love.” She gave him a peck on the nose. “Only with you, my beloved.”
“No one else,” Ratchet admitted huskily. “Never anyone else.”
“I am my beloved’s.” Moonracer whispered in his ear. “My beloved is mine.”