Transformers (Optimus Prime/Elita One)
Jul. 25th, 2007 04:43 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kinkfestTitle: Above this sceptred sway
Author: Apathy
Rating: Strong PG-13.
Warnings: Violence. AU. Wanky title. No porn. Sorry.
Word count: 832.
Prompt: Optimus Prime/Elita One: Decepticon Elita - "chapter two and chapter three was when my heart died/and I believe, in my madness, that you must die"
Summary: A lot can happen in four million years.
A/N: Less than a day late. I'm catching up! Granted, RL is still kicking my arse, and I still have a prompt from almost a week ago that hasn't been done, but I'm getting there.
This story would work much better as something vaguely epic. Alas, you're not about to get that from me, especially when I'm in this much of a damned hurry. *g*
The architecture looms darkly above, jagged skyline black against blacker shadows. It is not the Cybertron he remembers.
Purple insignias stain buildings, infrastructure... her.
Here, before her, the barrel of her pistol pressed firmly under his chin, he can only process one word.
'Why?'
Her smirk hardens instantaneously, optics narrowing to slits of discordant red. The pistol jams harder into his throat.
'You abandoned us, Optimus. Four million years is a very long time.'
Words are coming to him more swiftly now, although they are not the words he wants. They sound pathetic, even to him. 'It was for your own good! Elita, you must believe me!'
She does not seem to hear. 'You left us alone because we weren't good enough to help out. Too weak. Too precious.' The word is punctuated with a jab from the pistol.
Precious, yes, but not like that. Never like that.
'But... how... why, Elita?'
His audials ring as she brings the butt of the pistol down across his helmet. He staggers to one knee.
'We've been over this already. Pay attention.'
Shockwave cuts in smoothly. 'The Decepticons have... persuasive methods.'
His cultured, inflectionless tones make Optimus want to tear out his vocaliser. There are many things about his Decepticon foes that he can understand, as much as he wouldn't like to, but the ability to leave morality and compassion out of the circuit entirely is something that he hopes he will never be able to comprehend.
Elita holsters her weapon, and Optimus makes no attempt to escape. Even if the Shockwave's troops weren't here, he would not attempt it. And Elita knows it. She drops her voice low, tone laced with hurt and innocence, and leans in to whisper directly into his audial.
'They used you against me, Optimus. Used all of you against all of us. How were we supposed to resist that?'
He knows she's always known how to cut right to his core, to the part of him that always wallows in anxious guilt, terrified of proving inadequate. She just hasn't ever actually made use of that knowledge, before.
He also knows in this moment that she's not sane. Hasn't been for a long time.
It doesn't make things any easier.
She removes his faceplate carefully, dexterous fingers still remembering the complicated sequence after all these millennia, and brings her cold lips to his. He sinks into the kiss gratefully, even as his battle computer screams at him to take the advantage.
For a moment, his memory processor slips back to one evening seven million years ago, just the two of them, too much energon and post-battle mechadrenaline; and then it's gone as quickly as it came, and he knows this is goodbye.
She breaks off the kiss with surprising gentleness, and he forces himself to raise his head and look her in the optics.
'I will miss you, Elita.'
'I missed you for far too long.' She shrugs. 'I got over it.'
She reaches for his chestplate, and he tenses, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. He won't survive this, not with a dozen Decepticon weapons pointed unerringly at his head, and he has to wonder how it could possibly be worth terminating her if the Decepticons will end up with the Matrix, anyway.
Still... he made an oath. He will protect the Matrix to the end, no matter what.
He made an oath to her, too. He thinks that Elita -- the real Elita -- would consider termination a fulfilment of that oath, under these circumstances.
Elita removes the chestplate, and Optimus strikes out, fuel pump constricting sickeningly in regret.
His hand clamps around her neck, and he wills himself to tighten his grip to crushing intensity, and --
and --
Time seems to wobble and slow, his hand not responding to his sluggish mental commands. It doesn't stop -- he can see her working in hyper motion -- but that fraction of an instant is all she needs to get the Matrix free, and work her way out of his grasp.
And, mercifully, the decision is taken out of his hands.
He stares in confusion as time struggles to catch up to its normal pace. Elita stumbles back, looking weakened, but clutching the Matrix triumphantly.
He can only assume that she had something to do with the temporal anomaly; and for that, he is grateful. The Decepticons could have simply shot him, and removed the Matrix from his deactivated corpse. Elita herself could have killed him with little effort. Maybe there is some part of the old Elita remaining within her, a part of her willing to spare him the pain of deactivating her.
His eyes refocus to see her aiming her pistol directly at his head. Her face is shrouded in shadows, inscrutable.
'Goodbye, Optimus.'
A single shot rings out, and he barely feels it, the blast neatly taking out his pain processor.
From the ground, he watches through fading optics as she melts into Cybertron's cold embrace.
Author: Apathy
Rating: Strong PG-13.
Warnings: Violence. AU. Wanky title. No porn. Sorry.
Word count: 832.
Prompt: Optimus Prime/Elita One: Decepticon Elita - "chapter two and chapter three was when my heart died/and I believe, in my madness, that you must die"
Summary: A lot can happen in four million years.
A/N: Less than a day late. I'm catching up! Granted, RL is still kicking my arse, and I still have a prompt from almost a week ago that hasn't been done, but I'm getting there.
This story would work much better as something vaguely epic. Alas, you're not about to get that from me, especially when I'm in this much of a damned hurry. *g*
The architecture looms darkly above, jagged skyline black against blacker shadows. It is not the Cybertron he remembers.
Purple insignias stain buildings, infrastructure... her.
Here, before her, the barrel of her pistol pressed firmly under his chin, he can only process one word.
'Why?'
Her smirk hardens instantaneously, optics narrowing to slits of discordant red. The pistol jams harder into his throat.
'You abandoned us, Optimus. Four million years is a very long time.'
Words are coming to him more swiftly now, although they are not the words he wants. They sound pathetic, even to him. 'It was for your own good! Elita, you must believe me!'
She does not seem to hear. 'You left us alone because we weren't good enough to help out. Too weak. Too precious.' The word is punctuated with a jab from the pistol.
Precious, yes, but not like that. Never like that.
'But... how... why, Elita?'
His audials ring as she brings the butt of the pistol down across his helmet. He staggers to one knee.
'We've been over this already. Pay attention.'
Shockwave cuts in smoothly. 'The Decepticons have... persuasive methods.'
His cultured, inflectionless tones make Optimus want to tear out his vocaliser. There are many things about his Decepticon foes that he can understand, as much as he wouldn't like to, but the ability to leave morality and compassion out of the circuit entirely is something that he hopes he will never be able to comprehend.
Elita holsters her weapon, and Optimus makes no attempt to escape. Even if the Shockwave's troops weren't here, he would not attempt it. And Elita knows it. She drops her voice low, tone laced with hurt and innocence, and leans in to whisper directly into his audial.
'They used you against me, Optimus. Used all of you against all of us. How were we supposed to resist that?'
He knows she's always known how to cut right to his core, to the part of him that always wallows in anxious guilt, terrified of proving inadequate. She just hasn't ever actually made use of that knowledge, before.
He also knows in this moment that she's not sane. Hasn't been for a long time.
It doesn't make things any easier.
She removes his faceplate carefully, dexterous fingers still remembering the complicated sequence after all these millennia, and brings her cold lips to his. He sinks into the kiss gratefully, even as his battle computer screams at him to take the advantage.
For a moment, his memory processor slips back to one evening seven million years ago, just the two of them, too much energon and post-battle mechadrenaline; and then it's gone as quickly as it came, and he knows this is goodbye.
She breaks off the kiss with surprising gentleness, and he forces himself to raise his head and look her in the optics.
'I will miss you, Elita.'
'I missed you for far too long.' She shrugs. 'I got over it.'
She reaches for his chestplate, and he tenses, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. He won't survive this, not with a dozen Decepticon weapons pointed unerringly at his head, and he has to wonder how it could possibly be worth terminating her if the Decepticons will end up with the Matrix, anyway.
Still... he made an oath. He will protect the Matrix to the end, no matter what.
He made an oath to her, too. He thinks that Elita -- the real Elita -- would consider termination a fulfilment of that oath, under these circumstances.
Elita removes the chestplate, and Optimus strikes out, fuel pump constricting sickeningly in regret.
His hand clamps around her neck, and he wills himself to tighten his grip to crushing intensity, and --
and --
Time seems to wobble and slow, his hand not responding to his sluggish mental commands. It doesn't stop -- he can see her working in hyper motion -- but that fraction of an instant is all she needs to get the Matrix free, and work her way out of his grasp.
And, mercifully, the decision is taken out of his hands.
He stares in confusion as time struggles to catch up to its normal pace. Elita stumbles back, looking weakened, but clutching the Matrix triumphantly.
He can only assume that she had something to do with the temporal anomaly; and for that, he is grateful. The Decepticons could have simply shot him, and removed the Matrix from his deactivated corpse. Elita herself could have killed him with little effort. Maybe there is some part of the old Elita remaining within her, a part of her willing to spare him the pain of deactivating her.
His eyes refocus to see her aiming her pistol directly at his head. Her face is shrouded in shadows, inscrutable.
'Goodbye, Optimus.'
A single shot rings out, and he barely feels it, the blast neatly taking out his pain processor.
From the ground, he watches through fading optics as she melts into Cybertron's cold embrace.
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 08:08 pm (UTC)Just...
*flails incoherently* ...!!!!!!!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 05:25 am (UTC)(Bet you're regretting having me offer to write Optimus/Ironhide right now. XD )
Also, your icon is awesome.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 06:07 am (UTC)*cries*
that was so incredible. i am at a loss for words. i shall simply flail incoherently with
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 02:54 pm (UTC)And, um... sorry? *offers kittens and pie, but not kitten pie*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 08:05 pm (UTC)Neither do I, really. *g* Just assume that the 'Cons had some way of torturing/mindfucking her into it. Because forcing the reader to make assumptions about major story points is totally good writing. *snort*
Seriously, though -- thanks. *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 07:35 pm (UTC)And you used her special power! I am glad of that, since I think it's a very cool and dangerous thing she can do there. Just most people don't use it. (I still hold the belief that if she used it for shorter amounts of time than as long as it takes to carry Optimus out of the Decepticon citadel, it won't kill her.)
I bet the Decepticons have persuasive methods, Shocky. *coughs*Robo-Smasher*/coughs*
"He also knows in this moment that she's not sane. Hasn't been for a long time."
That line gave me chills.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 08:08 pm (UTC)I still hold the belief that if she used it for shorter amounts of time than as long as it takes to carry Optimus out of the Decepticon citadel, it won't kill her.
Yeah, that's pretty much the assumption I was working under. That, and that the Decepticons had either found a way to get around the whole 'dying' problem, or trained her better in her use of it.
*coughs*Robo-Smasher*/coughs*
I did not think of that, but, YES.