Tag: jazz

silverxenomorph:

roseymoseyberry:

Heyyy, guess who’s here on this Halloween to bring you my one and only attempt at horror fic. *finger guns*

This fic is inspired by Haru’s headcanon post over here about empties along with some discussion we had about the idea. Also I suppose it’s in line with her Ghost of the Machine writing challenge.

But PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags. I know my writing tagline is p much “Ok but it’s Rosey so you know it will have a happy ending” BUT that is not the case for this fic. It’s a bad sad time, y’all. So please read the tags and make sure you only read if you’re up for it. Don’t force yourself lmao.

Title: Empty

Series: Pre-TFP but altered so there are more members of Team Prime that I picked kinda at random.

Ship(s): Up to you if it’s OP/Ratch or OP&Ratch. It’s written v vaguely in that regard.

Tags/warnings: Aims to be horror (somewhere between Alien and Until Dawn in inspiration), starving, robot body-horror, robot gore, loss of self, brief mention of suicide, and major character death. Also it’s written in present tense, the spookiest tense of them all. Also I cried while writing this.

---

“We have visual confirmation,” Perceptor announces, his tone
giving little of his own emotions away. Bulkhead and Bumblebee are huddled
behind him, peeking at his screen. However, when Perceptor looks up from the
screen, his optics seek out Optimus. “It’s Ratchet’s vessel.”

A hope that Optimus had not let himself entertain when the
craft was first spotted now blooms unbidden in his chest.

Nearly two years have passed. Two years since the team had been
formed. Two years since he had been forced to split the team into two small
vessels to make the trek.  Two years
since Ratchet assured Optimus that he could keep the second vessel’s crew in
line and they would converge on Earth.

Two years since he had scoffed at Optimus’s concern.

“I’ll just be a call away.”

Two years since the Decepticon attack separated the twin
vessels and no attempts at communication could reveal the location or fate of
their companions.

Two years that now stain the new hope with long-held dread.

“Still no answer to our comms?”

“No,” Perceptor confirms. His digits race across his control
panel. “Scans indicate that there is extensive damage to the hull where the
communication hub is located, which I would suspect to be the cause. I would further
hypothesize that the emergency beacon is the only component that was repaired.”

“So that means they’re alive, right?” Bulkhead asks
hopefully. “Ratchet had to have fixed it up, so he and the rest of them gotta
be alright.”

Bumblebee looks up at Optimus, more torn in his optimism and
looking to the Prime for any indication of how he should feel.

The rapid beeping of the emergency beacon makes Optimus’s
digits twitch.

“Perceptor, get us alongside their ship so we can board
immediately.” 

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Keep reading

@adhesivesandscrap