A Light in the Darkness [Transformers (G1), Rodimus Prime/Elita One, NC17]
Title: A Light in the Darkness
Author/Artist: zebra_in_dream
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mech sex,
Summary: In the aftermath of the movie Elita One is unsure what the future holds, so she requests the new Prime to help her understand.
A/N: I think I screwed up the time forms, among other things.
She is shrouded in darkness, only her hand gleaming in the diffuse light of a beam. Her hand softly caressing the dead husk of Optimus Prime.
The lifeless metal shell has been painted to resemble his paint scheme. He just seems to be recharging, yet his form is so still.
The thrum of his engine silent and never again purring for her when she leaned against him.
His eyes dark, never again would their glow reflect life and the eternal hope for a better future.
Never again would he hold her against him in a grasp she couldn't escape, and chide her playfully for teasing his antenna in rare, inopportune moments.
Elita One lays her head on his chest, which was as cold as turned off machinery, as cold as she felt inside.
Footsteps break the silence, stopping before reaching her. Still the silence doesn't return.
The soft hum of another's system speak of life in this place of death.
Elita One waits for the other to drawn her away, to tell her that her time is up and others wish to see their beloved hero for the last time. But the advisement doesn't come. Instead the other finally steps up to her and lays a hand on her shoulder.
“I miss him,” the new Prime says.
“He was an inspiration to all of us. Whenever we despaired he was there to give us hope for a new tomorrow.”
“Hope ...” Hope which she had lost. Hope which could not be regained staying here and mourning the past and the future-never-to-be. Yet, she finds herself unable to leave.
The new Prime stands quietly at her side, not trying to console with cheap words for her fallen companion. He has introduced himself to her when she came to this world, but she was to preoccupied to remember.
Finally she keens softly in pain and stands up. She faces the Leader of the Autobots.
“Please, show me this world. This world Prime tried to protect like it were another Cybertron. Show me this world which kept him from me for four million years. “
At the resentment him her words apprehension flits over the Primes face, then he regains his composure.
“Do you wish to go now?”
She can't stay here, she has to face the future.
With a heavy heart she gives a tired affirmative.
She leaves the Mausoleum at the Prime's side. The moment she steps outside this world's star blinds her, warms her body with its wasteful energy.
It had been dark like Cybertron when she had arrived such a seemingly short time ago, but now the furious symbol of life rises over this world. A life bearer like Cybertron has lost an eternity ago.
There are no words as she follows him in transformation and lets him lead her through the city build by Autobots and the natives of this planet.
Repairs are underway everywhere. The obvious wounds left on the living city by the Decepticon's final attack vanishes, slowly returning the city to the state she had seen in pictures, slowly bringing back normalcy.
Organics stroll next to laughing bots.
Life goes on.
He leads her to the place where Megatron and Optimus Prime fought their final battle.
No repairs are underway here, the area was just secured. Silence reigns here, too, yet life claims dominion over this place.
Flowers, pictures and candles, stubbornly fighting against the breeze, are overflowing the spot.
She crouches down, touches one of the delicate blossoms.
“That's how humans show their grief.” The Prime explains and falls silent again, apparently not knowing what to say to her.
She bids him to tell her how it happened.
While she listens to him, she touches the fragile flowers, pondering how their life has been thrown away so easily to mark another's passing.
She listens to him, hears his guilt, hears his plea for forgiveness, but she can't bear his pains and burdens at this time. Had Optimus been here, she would have certainly done everything she could to help this bot who has been trust unprepared into a position far beyond his experience.
Eventually they leave and the Prime leads her to Optimus Prime's office and quarters, both are sterile and unused. They were so new Optimus hadn't had time to personalize them.
She takes it all in silently, emotionlessly, there is nothing here, nothing speaking of him, not a glimpse of his life and dreams.
There is only one place left to go, one place deeply connected to Optimus.
The drive to the Ark is a long one.
She feels the wind against her chassis, insect strike her, overhanging branches and leafs scratch her, sand and dust is swirling along her form, working their way into her hardly protected gears.
Everything is so different from Cybertron, which has no more wind, no sand, and never insects.
Up ahead the Ark gleams in the sun, shadows brushing over her. Elita watches the towering clouds up in the sky and shivers. On Cybertron clouds herald the coming of deadly acid rain.
Together they enter the Ark, this place, too, is silent in death. But it is a sadder silence. This place has been lived in, they pass quarters, quarters which will have to be emptied by friends and companions since their owners will never return. Just like Optimus' quarters will have to be emptied, its contents sorted, shipped off to those close to him, discarded.
She balks before they reach his office or his quarters. She can't stand it here any longer, it is just like the Mausoleum.
The Prime leads her up the volcano.
They sit next to each other on a ledge, looking out over the land. They can see far even without zoom.
Streets crisscross the area, the city gleams in the distance. Lush forests and wide meadows would normally be a curiosity to her, she who has never left Cybertron before, has never seen life other than Cybertron's.
Dark gray and staggering clouds draw near, rain is falling over the forests.
Elita One twitches nervously, mapping the fastest way to cover.
Once again the Prime places a hand on her shoulder.
“Don't be afraid. The rain is harmless, there is no acid.”
She straightens up and half-heartedly replies: “Elita One knows no fear.”
The one besides her chuckles.
And then the rain is upon them. The sun's searing light plotted out, darkness falling once again.
Elita tenses, despite assurances waiting for the harsh bit of acid.
Instead, each drop falling on her sends barely detectable vibrations through her body. Her sensors are lighting up, this is unlike everything she has felt before.
The rain cools her sun-warmed chassis, she grows cold again, cold like the Mausoleum.
She turns to the warmth next to her.
“I feel so cold. As if no more energy is left within me. As if all hope has fled me.”
He tenses as she leans against him, listening to his engine and the hum of energy, the hum of life. She traces the flames on his front.
His arms settle slightly on her shoulders, pushing her away slightly, but not letting her go.
She looks at him, his expression is troubled.
“You don't have to.” She tells him. The Prime turns slightly to the side, not looking at her.
“You are very attractive, but I'm not that experienced. Somebody else would be more pleasening to you.”
“Whom could I ask this off. Who wouldn't be my subordinate and feel it their duty to comfort me?
“It is not a companion I seek. I only wish to feel alive again. I seek forgetting, even if just for a few fleeting moments. I seek the warmth of somebody against me, reminding me of what it is to live.”
His expression is troubled, he is warring with himself. She can feel the minuscule shifts in his arms, as he ponders whether to draw her near or push her way.
She turns her optics off, listening and feeling the rain pattering against her.
The Prime gives a resigned whir. Elita feels the cold grow, but in the next instance instead of being pushed away, he takes a step forward.
There is slightly 'bling' as their bodies meet. His lip components touch hers.
She turns her optics on in surprise, the feeling new and curious. Hesitation is in his touch as he caresses her back and head crest.
She is exploring his body, it has been such along time since she felt the smoothness of metal against her own.
She presses herself flush against him, and he rubs on of his legs against hers.
His engine gets louder, she can feel the vibrations everywhere she is touching him. His field is strengthening flaring outwards. The field is erratic and fluctuating uncontrolled. He really is inexperienced.
Yet, her system slowly heat up under his clumsy ministrations. He fondles her joints and vents, lingering whenever he gets a reaction.
She does the same to him, feeling his gasps and moans through his lip components against hers.
Before long his field is getting stronger and even more erratic, dragging her systems up into a pleasant haze. He is stalling ever so often, trying to get his bearings, yet she is having none of that. Keeping him off balance with her touches.
Finally she reaches for his spoiler, dragging her whole hand along one side of it.
His engine seizes, his vocalizer sputters static, his eyes burn brightly, he throws his head back.
His field gets completely out of control, and his engine vibrations as well as his fields fluctuations set her own overload off.
Slowly she regains her bearings, the Prime is leaning against her barely online. She is guiding him to the wet and soaked ground. He is sighing at feeling the wet earth cool against his overheated body.
He looks questioningly at her, optics flickering. She snuggles against him.
“Thank you.”
His optics wink out. Elita watches him, tracing his flames.
This has been what she had searched for, the bright burning flame of life.
Wild, untamed and wasteful of energy, unlike the methodical and energy efficient overload that had been a rare luxury during the all destroying war. The energy for such activities had become rarer and rare, pleasure taking a back seat to naked survival.
The sun breaks through the dark clouds, Elita hears the foreign song of creatures in the forest. In the distance Metroplex gleams.
Life goes on, a new beginning has been made, peace is near, energy and joy is flowing in the city. Everything Optimus and she had fought for.
The Prime was warming her front, the sun her back. Her fans just cooled down from her overload came back online, to disperse the excess energy soaking into her.
She is getting warm, hot even, except for the one spot within her that is as cold as ice. The one spot mourning that Optimus isn't at her side to see their dreams come true.
End of File
Prompt: Transformers, Rodimus Prime/Elita One: there's only one way to comfort a widow - Cover me with kisses/cover me with love.
Author/Artist: zebra_in_dream
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mech sex,
Summary: In the aftermath of the movie Elita One is unsure what the future holds, so she requests the new Prime to help her understand.
A/N: I think I screwed up the time forms, among other things.
She is shrouded in darkness, only her hand gleaming in the diffuse light of a beam. Her hand softly caressing the dead husk of Optimus Prime.
The lifeless metal shell has been painted to resemble his paint scheme. He just seems to be recharging, yet his form is so still.
The thrum of his engine silent and never again purring for her when she leaned against him.
His eyes dark, never again would their glow reflect life and the eternal hope for a better future.
Never again would he hold her against him in a grasp she couldn't escape, and chide her playfully for teasing his antenna in rare, inopportune moments.
Elita One lays her head on his chest, which was as cold as turned off machinery, as cold as she felt inside.
Footsteps break the silence, stopping before reaching her. Still the silence doesn't return.
The soft hum of another's system speak of life in this place of death.
Elita One waits for the other to drawn her away, to tell her that her time is up and others wish to see their beloved hero for the last time. But the advisement doesn't come. Instead the other finally steps up to her and lays a hand on her shoulder.
“I miss him,” the new Prime says.
“He was an inspiration to all of us. Whenever we despaired he was there to give us hope for a new tomorrow.”
“Hope ...” Hope which she had lost. Hope which could not be regained staying here and mourning the past and the future-never-to-be. Yet, she finds herself unable to leave.
The new Prime stands quietly at her side, not trying to console with cheap words for her fallen companion. He has introduced himself to her when she came to this world, but she was to preoccupied to remember.
Finally she keens softly in pain and stands up. She faces the Leader of the Autobots.
“Please, show me this world. This world Prime tried to protect like it were another Cybertron. Show me this world which kept him from me for four million years. “
At the resentment him her words apprehension flits over the Primes face, then he regains his composure.
“Do you wish to go now?”
She can't stay here, she has to face the future.
With a heavy heart she gives a tired affirmative.
She leaves the Mausoleum at the Prime's side. The moment she steps outside this world's star blinds her, warms her body with its wasteful energy.
It had been dark like Cybertron when she had arrived such a seemingly short time ago, but now the furious symbol of life rises over this world. A life bearer like Cybertron has lost an eternity ago.
There are no words as she follows him in transformation and lets him lead her through the city build by Autobots and the natives of this planet.
Repairs are underway everywhere. The obvious wounds left on the living city by the Decepticon's final attack vanishes, slowly returning the city to the state she had seen in pictures, slowly bringing back normalcy.
Organics stroll next to laughing bots.
Life goes on.
He leads her to the place where Megatron and Optimus Prime fought their final battle.
No repairs are underway here, the area was just secured. Silence reigns here, too, yet life claims dominion over this place.
Flowers, pictures and candles, stubbornly fighting against the breeze, are overflowing the spot.
She crouches down, touches one of the delicate blossoms.
“That's how humans show their grief.” The Prime explains and falls silent again, apparently not knowing what to say to her.
She bids him to tell her how it happened.
While she listens to him, she touches the fragile flowers, pondering how their life has been thrown away so easily to mark another's passing.
She listens to him, hears his guilt, hears his plea for forgiveness, but she can't bear his pains and burdens at this time. Had Optimus been here, she would have certainly done everything she could to help this bot who has been trust unprepared into a position far beyond his experience.
Eventually they leave and the Prime leads her to Optimus Prime's office and quarters, both are sterile and unused. They were so new Optimus hadn't had time to personalize them.
She takes it all in silently, emotionlessly, there is nothing here, nothing speaking of him, not a glimpse of his life and dreams.
There is only one place left to go, one place deeply connected to Optimus.
The drive to the Ark is a long one.
She feels the wind against her chassis, insect strike her, overhanging branches and leafs scratch her, sand and dust is swirling along her form, working their way into her hardly protected gears.
Everything is so different from Cybertron, which has no more wind, no sand, and never insects.
Up ahead the Ark gleams in the sun, shadows brushing over her. Elita watches the towering clouds up in the sky and shivers. On Cybertron clouds herald the coming of deadly acid rain.
Together they enter the Ark, this place, too, is silent in death. But it is a sadder silence. This place has been lived in, they pass quarters, quarters which will have to be emptied by friends and companions since their owners will never return. Just like Optimus' quarters will have to be emptied, its contents sorted, shipped off to those close to him, discarded.
She balks before they reach his office or his quarters. She can't stand it here any longer, it is just like the Mausoleum.
The Prime leads her up the volcano.
They sit next to each other on a ledge, looking out over the land. They can see far even without zoom.
Streets crisscross the area, the city gleams in the distance. Lush forests and wide meadows would normally be a curiosity to her, she who has never left Cybertron before, has never seen life other than Cybertron's.
Dark gray and staggering clouds draw near, rain is falling over the forests.
Elita One twitches nervously, mapping the fastest way to cover.
Once again the Prime places a hand on her shoulder.
“Don't be afraid. The rain is harmless, there is no acid.”
She straightens up and half-heartedly replies: “Elita One knows no fear.”
The one besides her chuckles.
And then the rain is upon them. The sun's searing light plotted out, darkness falling once again.
Elita tenses, despite assurances waiting for the harsh bit of acid.
Instead, each drop falling on her sends barely detectable vibrations through her body. Her sensors are lighting up, this is unlike everything she has felt before.
The rain cools her sun-warmed chassis, she grows cold again, cold like the Mausoleum.
She turns to the warmth next to her.
“I feel so cold. As if no more energy is left within me. As if all hope has fled me.”
He tenses as she leans against him, listening to his engine and the hum of energy, the hum of life. She traces the flames on his front.
His arms settle slightly on her shoulders, pushing her away slightly, but not letting her go.
She looks at him, his expression is troubled.
“You don't have to.” She tells him. The Prime turns slightly to the side, not looking at her.
“You are very attractive, but I'm not that experienced. Somebody else would be more pleasening to you.”
“Whom could I ask this off. Who wouldn't be my subordinate and feel it their duty to comfort me?
“It is not a companion I seek. I only wish to feel alive again. I seek forgetting, even if just for a few fleeting moments. I seek the warmth of somebody against me, reminding me of what it is to live.”
His expression is troubled, he is warring with himself. She can feel the minuscule shifts in his arms, as he ponders whether to draw her near or push her way.
She turns her optics off, listening and feeling the rain pattering against her.
The Prime gives a resigned whir. Elita feels the cold grow, but in the next instance instead of being pushed away, he takes a step forward.
There is slightly 'bling' as their bodies meet. His lip components touch hers.
She turns her optics on in surprise, the feeling new and curious. Hesitation is in his touch as he caresses her back and head crest.
She is exploring his body, it has been such along time since she felt the smoothness of metal against her own.
She presses herself flush against him, and he rubs on of his legs against hers.
His engine gets louder, she can feel the vibrations everywhere she is touching him. His field is strengthening flaring outwards. The field is erratic and fluctuating uncontrolled. He really is inexperienced.
Yet, her system slowly heat up under his clumsy ministrations. He fondles her joints and vents, lingering whenever he gets a reaction.
She does the same to him, feeling his gasps and moans through his lip components against hers.
Before long his field is getting stronger and even more erratic, dragging her systems up into a pleasant haze. He is stalling ever so often, trying to get his bearings, yet she is having none of that. Keeping him off balance with her touches.
Finally she reaches for his spoiler, dragging her whole hand along one side of it.
His engine seizes, his vocalizer sputters static, his eyes burn brightly, he throws his head back.
His field gets completely out of control, and his engine vibrations as well as his fields fluctuations set her own overload off.
Slowly she regains her bearings, the Prime is leaning against her barely online. She is guiding him to the wet and soaked ground. He is sighing at feeling the wet earth cool against his overheated body.
He looks questioningly at her, optics flickering. She snuggles against him.
“Thank you.”
His optics wink out. Elita watches him, tracing his flames.
This has been what she had searched for, the bright burning flame of life.
Wild, untamed and wasteful of energy, unlike the methodical and energy efficient overload that had been a rare luxury during the all destroying war. The energy for such activities had become rarer and rare, pleasure taking a back seat to naked survival.
The sun breaks through the dark clouds, Elita hears the foreign song of creatures in the forest. In the distance Metroplex gleams.
Life goes on, a new beginning has been made, peace is near, energy and joy is flowing in the city. Everything Optimus and she had fought for.
The Prime was warming her front, the sun her back. Her fans just cooled down from her overload came back online, to disperse the excess energy soaking into her.
She is getting warm, hot even, except for the one spot within her that is as cold as ice. The one spot mourning that Optimus isn't at her side to see their dreams come true.
End of File
Prompt: Transformers, Rodimus Prime/Elita One: there's only one way to comfort a widow - Cover me with kisses/cover me with love.