Title: A trio of drabbles: Individual titles below
Characters: Ratchet x Sideswipe x Sunstreaker
Summary: Three moments of quiet contemplation as inspired by the Wrench of Inspiration 16 – A writing format: Drabble.
Contains: Mild allusion to near death, a kiss, dreams and much love between three mechs.
Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction. No harm was intended in the creation of this work. All rights belong to the original creators.
I have never attempted a drabble but was compelled to try one after the Wrench of Inspiration 16, so compelled I had to do three! Each drabble is a separate story. Sideswipe's drabble put up a bit of a fight so sorry if it is lacking a bit. Anyway, I cannot believe that I actually manage 100 words per piece XD
1: To Live Would Be the Greatest Fight Of Them All
Life flashed before him in a blur of crimson and gold and his spark stilled. Cherry servos that should have shaken with fear were rock solid, dependable.
His life lay before him so to hesitate, to not be in complete control, would mean his end.
Slowly he tuned out from the sounds around him and optics focused until all other colours in his field of vision, became distant blurs.
Without them, his life would be lifeless and he was not ready to lie down and die.
"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker" Ratchet whispered, "To live would be the greatest fight of them all?"
2: The Captured Kiss
The gentle murmur of idle chatter drifted from the edge of the stream, the sounds calming his spark, comforting him.
His optics never seemed to leave the scene in front of him whilst his hand movements were frenetic, weaving back and forth, creating patterns, form, beauty.
As the sounds hushed, his frenzied movements slowed and only finger tips delicately brushed across the page, blending, blurring, creating light and shade.
Silently observing from his spot, he watched as his lover and his brother leaned towards one another, just as they had in his mind.
A captured kiss. A piece of art.
3: The Colours of his Dreams
Sleepy optics focused in the lamp light as a dream faded into the distance and Sideswipe felt a temporary void, as he yearned for the memories.
Turning his helm, his deep blue optics created a new image, one full of many colours; gold, black, white, cherry red and soft grey. Colours just as vivid and as real as his spark beat.
Shifting his frame, his crimson plating joined the mix of colours, complimenting, contrasting, while his dark fingers gently enveloped the cherry hand that rested against golden hues.
Memories were soon forgotten as these, were the colours of his dreams.