Drift groaned, making a half-sparked attempt to squirm away from the cool, damp cloth on his thighs. Muttering a nonsensical protest, he tried to swipe at Percy's servo. "Behave, Drift." Perceptor scolded softly. He didn't mind cleaning up after their session, but he did mind cuddling with drying, sticky, lubricant on their plating. It just wasn't sanitary. Drift cared remarkably little about cleanliness, and had shown that lack of care when Ratchet had brought him back to the ship, scuffed, dented, dirty. And utterly unbothered. Perceptor huffed softly as Drift grumbled again. This time the swordsmech managed to grab his servo, prompting a short, intense little tussle between the two. Drift wanted to cuddle, now. Perceptor wanted a clean frame to cuddle with. He made an undignified noise of protest, and Drift pouted at him, optics still hazy, and let go. "'s coooold." He whined, slurring the way he only did when totally relaxed, or completely overcharged. "Stop wiggling away, it wouldn't have time to get cold." He chided the shorter mech, trying not to give in to that pout. He was tired, valve and spike both aching after their hard frag, wanting to just slide onto the berth and snuggle Drift. Said mech huffed and flopped his helm back, shivering as Percy swiped the cloth over his array. His panels were gently closed, and Drift whined. Perceptor made a sympathetic noise, leaning over nuzzle his helm crest against a finial. ...They were both clean, the only dampness on Drift's plating from the cleaner on the cloth. Alright then. He tilted his helm, pressing his lips to Drift's cheek, purring when Drift turned so their lips met. He dropped the cloth to the floor, making a mental note to pick it up later. Drift immediately turned as the berth shifted under Perceptor's weight, moving to press himself against the scientist. "I missed you." Perceptor murmured, aware he'd said as much earlier, when Drift had cornered him in their habsuite. He still felt it needed to be said. He had truly missed Drift, and was so pleased the mech had been returned relatively unharmed. "Missed ya too." Drift muttered, voice muffled against Perceptor's neck. He blinked, trying to clear the sudden blurriness from his optic. Tightening his arms around the smaller mech, he cleared his vocalizer and nuzzled tighter against Drift. "I love you, Drift." "Mmm. Love y'too, Perce."
Drift and Perceptor going grocery shopping and while Percy is actually shopping, Drift is just riding the buggy around when Percy isn't looking. Just imagine Percy looking at their list and humming, and in the background you see Drift zoom by. Followed by the inevitable crash sound, and Percy just sighs. Now imagine that this happens a lot and they're quickly running out of grocery stores to go to because they (read as: Drift) keep getting banned.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Diablo III
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Perceptor
Characters: Drift | Deadlock, Perceptor (Transformers)
Additional Tags: barbarian Drift, demon hunter Perceptor, diablo typical violence, Fluff, pre-slash that turns into slash, Pirates of the Caribbean References, ratchet might actually be tia dalma
Summary: Drift and Perceptor are stuck slumming it in the Fields of Misery, because witch doctor Ratchet told them to, and that couldn’t possibly go wrong, right?
A drabble I wrote for fulcrumisthebomb today using his Diablo AU. :D Even if you’ve never played any Diablo games before, I hope you enjoy it!!
Drift sitting behind Perceptor and trying to look through his scope on his shoulder while he's working.
Perceptor scratching Drift behind the finials until he melts into a purring pile in his lap.
Perceptor having to carry Drift bridal style out of Swerve's after he's had too much, and shushing him with a laugh every time he gets too loud. Drift laughing and giggling for no reason, which only makes Perceptor laugh too.
Drift fussing over Perceptor when his systems develop a virus, and no matter how grumpy Perceptor gets, Drift still fusses and takes care of him.
Drift having to remind Perceptor to refuel because he forgot to because he was working.
Perceptor sitting quietly and reading a data pad while Drift meditates on their berth.
Perceptor threatening to dismantle someone if they ever dare to call Drift a Decepticon in front of him ever again.
Drift standing behind Perceptor looking SMUG AS ALL HELL while he lays into that bot.
Perceptor giving Drift a piggy back ride because he's too tired to walk back to their room.
Drift muttering sleepy things in Perceptor's audial as they walk, half of which make no sense but make Perceptor smile anyway.
HAPPY FLUFFY DRIFT AND PERCEPTOR 2K14. ( ╯°□°)╯*:･ﾟ✧
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Perceptor
Characters: Drift | Deadlock (Transformers), Perceptor (Transformers), Ratchet (Transformers), Swerve (Transformers), Tailgate (Transformers)
Additional Tags: Mechpreg, Eggs, Unplanned Pregnancy, Established Relationship, a touch of angst, Mostly Fluff
Summary:
Drift didn’t like panicking, and often tried to avoid it if possible. It made his frame hot and his hands shake and his processor spin. It was harder to concentrate on important things when he panicked.
Like what the frag he was supposed to do about the eggs currently growing inside him.
I wrote this to get fulcrumisthebomb on board with the idea of eggs and egg laying.
It totally worked. >w> Just the fluffy gooey stuff that comes BEFORE the egg laying, and with some angst at the beginning. Give it a read!
At this point, I really only want to learn how to draw so I can draw MegaOP egg laying shit. That's what I'm fixated on. That and Driftceptor egg laying.
Just. Eggs plopping out of valves. I need more. I'm a monster.
Asjahsakgklajgkaljgksa oh no. Time to torture Drift again. My favorite pastime. o(☆w☆)o Considering that I consider myself akin to Drift, I wonder what this says about me… Y’all about to get a taste of one of my headcanons here.
Drift/Perceptor (established relationship in the canon timeline): “It’s Never Too Late”
Perceptor’s systems came online, forcing him out of recharge without warning. His optics shuttered as he looked around. What had caused his rude awakening? Drift was missing from their berth, and while that already made him curious, he then heard the loud knocks on his door. With a sigh, he got up and opened the door, staring out into the hallway. It was mostly empty, but then he saw Swerve staring up at him.
"Oh thank spark you’re awake." Swerve said. "Hurry up, we need you in the cargo bay." The bartender jumped when a loud noise rose up from the underbelly of the ship.
"Right now." Swerve said. Perceptor followed him quickly into the cargo bay, unprepared for what was happening. Rodimus was at his side the second he set foot inside the door.
"Could you take any longer getting here? He’s completely lost it, I don’t know what to do." Rodimus said, his optics wide. Perceptor looked across the space and saw what Rodimus was talking about. Perched up on some barrels, hiding in the dark, was what looked like Drift. A very angry Drift, with his Great Sword drawn. There were various barrels scattered around as well, like they had been thrown.
"What is he doing in here?" Perceptor asked, concerned when Drift crouched lower, his optics narrowing. Rodimus sighed, his frame slumped.
"I don’t know. I was alerted that someone was in the bay, and I came down here and he almost took my arm off with that sword of his. It’s like he doesn’t know where he is or something."
Perceptor continued to watch Drift carefully. He had often suspected that Drift was not as “okay” as he insisted, and here was the proof. It was like Drift was in a waking nightmare, judging by how he kept looking around the room, his optics flickering like they weren’t quite online all the way.
"Let me see what I can do." Perceptor said, stepping forward and away from the small group that had amassed in the bay—Rodimus, Swerve, Rung, and Skids were present, and Perceptor had no doubt that if he didn’t get the situation under control, Ultra Magnus would be on his way.
"Drift?" Perceptor called softly. Drift’s posture changed when he heard Perceptor, but he was still holding his sword defensively.
"Drift, do you know where you are?" Perceptor asked. Drift’s optics gave another flicker and he straightened out of his crouch a little more.
"No." He answered, his voice sounding strange. Perceptor took another step forward, hands raised so Drift could see he meant no harm. In spite of that, Drift shifted again, holding the sword in front of him again.
"You are on board the Lost Light. Does that sound familiar?"
Drift was beginning to fidget, looking around the space again. If Perceptor could just get him down from those damn barrels, maybe he could calm him down more.
"No." Drift said again. Perceptor took another step forward, stopping when Drift moved more into the shadows, becoming just an outline with optics staring down at Perceptor.
"Drift… Please come down?" Perceptor said softly. Drift shook his head, his optics wide.
"No… No I can’t." Drift said, now fully pressed against the wall. Perceptor stepped forward again.
"Why not? No one is going to hurt you. I want to help."
Drift’s optics narrowed again and Perceptor froze when all at once, Drift leapt down from the barrels, thrusting his sword against Perceptor’s throat. He didn’t dare move, only holding out a hand towards the other mechs in the room. He didn’t want them coming closer and spooking Drift more.
"Help me? Who do you think you are?" Drift said, pressing the sword closer. "I don’t need help from you."
Drift’s optics flickered again, and Perceptor realized that Drift was indeed not online all the way. For all he knew, Drift wasn’t even seeing Perceptor. He was seeing someone else, someone he wouldn’t recognize. He probably didn’t even know he was in the cargo bay. Who knew what Drift was seeing.
"Do you know who I am?" Perceptor asked. Drift’s grip on his sword tightened.
"No, and I don’t need to know."
Perceptor only had a klik to move out of the way when Drift heaved the sword back and swung at him, narrowly missing him.
"Drift! Stop this!" Perceptor said, dodging another swipe. The sword embedded itself into the floor where Perceptor had been standing, and Drift pulled it back out easily, rounding on Perceptor again.
"Drift, wake up. Whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real."
Drift was faster than Perceptor was, and the larger mech didn’t have time to move out of the way when the sword cut into his shoulder, knocking him to the ground and taking a piece of his armor with it. Drift stood over him, sword raised to deal another blow.
"Drift, no." Perceptor said, keeping his voice calm as he put a hand out. "It isn’t real. Wake up."
Drift’s hands shook as he hesitated, and Perceptor caught a glimpse of Ultra Magnus out of the corner of his optic. If he didn’t get Drift back soon, Ultra Magnus would step in, and that would undoubtedly make matters worse.
"You know me." Perceptor said, sitting up. Drift shuffled back from him, optics wide again. "You know where you are. You are safe here. You are okay."
Drift’s optics gave another flicker before lighting up all the way. He blinked several times, looking around the room in confusion before looking down at Perceptor. The sight of his mate lying on the ground with a gouge in his armor kicked his systems online fully, and he dropped the sword with a clatter.
"Percy, I…" He stared at his hands before kneeling down next to Perceptor, reaching a hand out towards him.
"I hurt you. I hurt you.” He said, retracting his hand and curling in on himself.
"I didn’t know it was you. It WASN’T you." Drift said, his voice strained. Perceptor sat up more and frowned when Drift moved away from him again.
"You were experiencing a waking nightmare." Perceptor said. "It’s a processor glitch, something that can happen after you experience trauma."
But Drift wasn’t listening. He was preoccupied with looking at Perceptor’s shoulder, where a clean wedge was now missing, surrounded by scratched paint. Perceptor moved again, reaching out and catching Drift before he could move again. Drift struggled and all the while Perceptor shushed him until he was firmly in his arms, pressed tight against Perceptor’s chassis.
"Stop, be still." Perceptor said when Drift tried to move again. He made sure his arms completely caged Drift in, giving him a closed environment. Finally Drift stopped trying to move and slumped against Perceptor.
"My armor can be fixed. It’s alright." Perceptor said softly, watching Drift’s hand move to trace the cut.
"It isn’t alright… I’m not supposed to hurt you." The smaller mech said sadly. "I’m obviously more glitched than I thought. Maybe I should just—"
"Don’t even finish that sentence." Perceptor interrupted. Drift often got that way when he was upset. Thinking it was better if he went off on his own, thinking he was a danger to others. This was not the first ‘incident’ Drift had had lately, although to be fair, most of said incidents had happened in the privacy of their room, where Perceptor could easily calm Drift back down. This was the first time that Drift had slipped away in the presence of others.
"You are safe here with me, with this crew, and leaving will not fix anything."
"It’s too late to fix me." Drift said, curling up more against Perceptor. Another side effect of Drift’s fits; instant mood drop, very uncharacteristic of him.
"Hush, that’s not true. It’s never too late." Perceptor said, listening to Drift’s engine as it slowly wound down from its distressed state, settling back into a steady purr.
"I’m tired." Drift said, his optics slipping closed. Perceptor lifted him easily and held him tight, walking past the other mechs without another word, only pausing to give Rodimus a nod. Rodimus nodded back, sighing again and rubbing his face. Drift was his friend, and he hated seeing him like that. He was just thankful Drift had found Perceptor and was happy with him. Rodimus doubted he would ever be able to calm Drift like Perceptor did.
Perceptor carried Drift all the way back into their room, setting him down on the berth carefully before curling up around him, holding him close. Drift immediately rolled over and pressed his face into Perceptor’s neck, moving as close to other mech as he could.
Perceptor watched his mate for several cycles, petting his frame occasionally. He would speak to Drift about seeing Rung tomorrow. Perhaps Rung could help Drift get his processor back in order.
Perceptor hated seeing his mate suffer, and he was willing to do anything to get him back to 100%. He gave Drift’s finial a gentle kiss, smiling at how it twitched ever so slightly, before closing his optics and falling into recharge as well.
Headcanon: Drift has waking nightmares and this is what happens when Perceptor doesn’t wake up in time to calm him down again. I am sorry for the angst. No I’m not.
