Shameless plug for my favorite song off the 2014 Annie OST. It’s the perfect fit for my little AU of an AU called ExIS Evolutions (AU of the Historica universe, which in itself is an AU)
A mix for my Phantomquill fic, Mix!
Listen to it here (yt) or here (pm), tracklist under the cut.
1. Jens Lekman - I know what Love Isn’t
I'm serious, but only for the citizenship
I've always liked the idea of it
2. Nero’s Day At Disneyland - Sprawling Idiot Effigy
3. Regina Spektor - Two Birds
two birds of a feather
say that they're always gonna stay together
but one's never going to let go of that wire
he says that he will, but he's just a liar
4. The Bird And The Bee - Come As You Were
blow down a skyscraper
fill up your pockets, fill up your nerves
fall up into my arms
give me a love and set off alarms
5. Carly Rae Jepsen - Cry
he never wants to strip down to his feelings
he never wants to kiss and close his eyes
he never wants to cry
6. St. Vincent - Laughing With a Mouth of Blood
all of my old friends aren't so friendly
all of my old haunts are now all haunting me
7. Carly Rae Jepsen - Run Away With Me
this is the part, you've got to say all that you're feeling, feeling
packing a bag, we're leaving tonight when everyone's sleeping, sleeping
let's run away, I'll run away with you
8. Bastille - This Is What You Came For / I Knew You Were Trouble / Bang Bang
bang bang, he shot me down
bang bang, I hit the ground
bang bang, that awful sound
bang bang, my baby shot me down
9. St. Vincent - Severed Crossed Fingers
well you stole the heart right out my chest
changed the words that I know best
10. Porter Robinson - Goodbye To A World
11. Sufjan Stevens - To Be Alone With You
you gave your body to the lonely, they took your clothes
you gave up a wife and a family, you gave your ghost
@stonemadegremlin here’s why I was complaining about being too good at writing angst.
Also, for those who read that clickbait post, yes, it was about Ashwood, and this is how she did it.
Crystal blue optics onlined as the hushed whispers of the camp met her audio receptors. She knew how odd it was, to have not only one, but two key factors of the War at once camp, but if they knew… oh, if they knew, she thought before sitting up, the chains behind her helmpiece clinging together as she turned her helm to gaze at her mate, softly smiling at his peaceful expression. It was one of the rare, few times he could rest easy, and from where she was positioned, she couldn’t see any of the cracks that made him appear older than he was.
Carefully, the black and silver femme stood and walked out of the makeshift room, nodding at their guards before rubbing the helm of a youngling who all but ran to her. “Hello sweetspark,” she cooed at the yellow mech.
“Danni, I’m almost sixteen vorns!” he protested.
“No matter how old you are,” She said, tapping the area in between his optics. “You will always be my sweet little Bee.” He let out another whine and turned around slightly, where she could see him gazing at an orange femme, who blushed and giggled with her sister units. “Now, why are you up?”
“We just got back from a scouting party,” a silver mech answered, walking from the direction the yellow one had appeared from. “It’s nice to see you, Dani. Is Opi here?”
“He's recharging right now,” she answered. There was a switch as all three seemingly stood taller. “How did the expedition go? Any news of what his plan might be?”
“None,” the silver mesh answered. “A detailed report will be given in two cycles.”
“No. It can be by the end of the next Orn. Your squads need to rest,” she ordered. The two nodded and went back to the respective groups. It all but offline her, sending them behind enemy lines, but they were old enough to make their own choices. If it has been up to her, they would've been sent to Historica like she and her siblings had been. Instead, they let them making their own choices, and now she felt as if she was going to pay the ultimate price.
“Ashwood,” Ironhide’s voice said. The femme didn't startle as she turned to him. “They'll be ok. Prowl and Avalon should be back soon.” She let a soft smile show.
“Excited to see your mechling again?” She asked. His smile confirmed her question and she smiled back before sighing.
“Still have that feeling?” He asked. She nodded, her faceplates twisting into a sad expression. “We'll all see this through the end,” he told her. “You'll see.”
“Perhaps Tyger Pax will change this feeling,” she conceded.
The pain feedback on her bonds made her online. As she stood from the masses of bodies, several internal warnings popped up. She set them aside, in favor of finding her mate and creations. She came over the crest of the hill to see Jazz, the twins and Optimus kneeling beside Bumblebee and Ratchet, a hundred paces from where the rocket with the AllSpark had been. The hill was steep, and she knew if she tried to go down, she would snap her column and offline. My Spark, she thought, making her mate's helm snap up. I cannot join you….
I will retrieve you, he immediately replied, running a servo over Bumblebee’s helm before standing and turning, his optics immediately finding her. She could feel the panic, love, concern and possession flow over the bond as he met her on the hill, steadying her as she began to sway. I lost sight of you shortly near the end.
I tried stopping Megatron from getting to Bumblebee and the AllSpark, she whispered. Please, I need…
She didn't need to finish, as the mech nodded and quietly picked her up, carrying her down to the rest of their unit. She was placed beside Jazz, across from Ratchet, and gently reached out, rubbing her mech creation’s helm. His optics were offline, and the time between his vents were too slow for her liking.
“He'll be fine,” Ratchet told her softly as he closed his neckplates. “It will take time to see how much damage was done,” She nodded softly, her optics filling with fluids. “Let me tend to your wounds now,”
She felt the prick on her neck cables and allowed her systems to go offline.
When she onlined, she could feel something was wrong. “It's a slow acting poison,” Ratchet was saying mournfully. “If she ever online fully, she will have two orns, four at the most.”
Sorrow that wasn't her own hit her full force. “And if she remains in stasis?” Her mate asked.
“Three. No more, nor less.” The CMO said. She felt her digits twitch. She wanted to reach out for her mate, but when she tried her bond, she found it blocked. She heard the monitor spike and their conversation paused. “Ashwood? Are you awake?”
No, she thought out. I'm just making the monitor spike for the pit of it. The monitor spikes again. She felt her mate's servo on hers and once again twitched her digits, this time able to squeeze his. I'm here, she whispered mentally. I'm here… I'm not gone.
The next orn found Ashwood in the rec room, sitting at a table as her squads, friends and family surrounded her. All those who weren't in any of the mentioned groups watched from afar. No, it wasn't rare that most of the mechs and femmes around her to be in the room, but many were high in the ranks, and were often never in one place all together. Then there were the ones who never went into the rec room, i.e. her mate.
She felt uncomfortable with everyone attempting to wait on her servo and pede. It was almost as if she was sparked again. The thought made her panic slightly, which in turn made her mate look at her in concern. She was dying, but now that she thought about it, she could hear the troops whispers of how she was sparked. Some said it was a bastard and she cheated on her mate -- they didn’t know who her sparkmate was -- or that her mate had died in Prime’s arms, which is why he was being attentive to her. Those who knew her or her mate knew something was wrong, terribly wrong, but couldn’t nor didn’t dare to ask.
Another orn passed.
She could feel her systems becoming sluggish. If she said anything, Ratchet would have her on an immediate lockdown. She knew Optimus knew of her systems, but when she had onlined, they had discussed it fully. She wouldn’t be online to see Cybertron enter it’s Golden Era of peace -- it was dying and had very few orns left itself -- so the Council agreed to a simple solution. A messenger had been sent to flag down Soundwave, and a hard peace was immediately cracked down upon both factions.
Her last orns would be as if the Golden Era had came sooner, had come to greet her farewell.
With each cycle past on the third orn, the more sluggish she was. None of her mechlings, adopted or not, knew of her condition, and on the fourth orn, she onlined with a request.
Take me to where we first met, she said as her mate’s optics onlined. They both knew it was a dying wish; something she was most likely not going to be able to come back from. I want this to… to end where it started. So that the cycle can complete.
His digits traced her left cheek plate, where the symbols that marked a creation of a Prime sat. Anything for you, my spark.
Four cycles later found the mech all but carrying the femme through one of the very few organic forests that were able to adapt and grow out of the Cybertronian metal. Soon enough, they came across a deserted clearing, decaying logs decorating the ground. “Here we are,” he murmured.
“Do you remember how we first met?” Ashwood asked, her vocals mixing in with small static noises. It their bond was any less prominent, she would’ve done her best to run off and offline in a cave. But it was a Prime’s Bond, and there is no escaping those, even in death.
“I will never forget,” he replied. “Alpha Trion had only just taken me as an apprentice at seven vorns, and you were out here with your daniluk at four. You had all but ran towards us, but tripped and… I believed the word is “decked”,” she nodded. “And decked me instead of reaching him.”
“Heh, remember how Grandopi would tease us about it for those next vorns until he realized what happened?” she chuckled weakly. Her mate let out a similar noise and rested one servo on her shoulderplates while the other rested against the lower part of her backplates. It was in a comfortable, familiar position for both, and as their helms rested against the others, Ashwood’s lip-plates had a soft smile on them. “I love you.” She whispered, resting her chin on his rotator cusp. She shuttered her optics as he gently squeezed her.
“And I you,” he replied.
She onlined her optics in time to see a deep purple, one eyed mech standing, a high volt plasma gun standing in charge. Time slowed down as her optics widened in horror before she used her remaining strength to kick them 180 degrees, so her back was now facing the mech -- Shockwave, she knew him to be. Less than a nanoclick later, the shot ran out, and everything felt fuzzy. She could smell the burning metal and energon, and she knew if she looked down, she’d no doubt have a hole where the acid burnt through her tanks.
Optimus’s face turned into one of horror and pure pain as they sank to the ground, the comms going wild. “Ratchet, there was an ambush! A decepticon landed a shot on Ashwood!” The femme herself found it difficult to vent, causing her to gasp as he panicked over her. They both knew they were too far away for proper help….
Huh.
She couldn’t remember the last time they had kissed.
Surely it hadn’t been that long, but there had once been a time when they were in that hopeless, honeymoon state that went far beyond the honeymoon stellar-cycle. She could hear her mate’s voice begging for her to hang on, to fight, and she believe him when he said she could. So, as gently and as much as she could, she sat up and silenced him with a gentle, soft kiss that told him everything she wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words to.
She loved her mate, and not a orn would go by that she would watch from the Well in regret, having been unable to stay as strong as he believed her to be.
She could feel her spark beginning to fade from it’s case, and her mate’s pleading hitched and a sorrowful noise almost made her fight to stay online…
…
…….
….
She was old.
Not as old as Rachet, Ironhide and Sentinel, but she was one of the oldest Cybertronians to fight in the wars.
She was old, and she was tired.
So, so tired of all the fighting. She just wanted to rest, to raise a family unit without the fear of bombings or kidnappings.
…
She was selfish…
I love you, and I will always love you, she whispered through all of her bonds that were still open. Do not grieve… I meet Primus now, and one day in the distant future, you will all join me… Live as I want you to live… not how… you think… you… should…
Blackened gauntlets turned grey and the frame went limp in the Prime’s grasp. All around them, in a perfect radius, the plants began to wither and die as if it had happened in a matter of weeks rather than seconds.
So, reading the final chapter of Burn The Bridge Home by Laryna6 made me want a series of cracky one-shots where the responsible ones in each number series try to look after/manage their idiot siblings with varied results, but since Laryna didn’t bite on the idea I’ll probably have to write them myself. Except I’m lacking ideas. Prompts/suggestions would be much appreciated.
Of the First Numbers I imagine Elecman tries to be the responsible one but the true manager is Roll. She might humor him though, especially since she’d be busy dealing with Auto.
The Second Numbers are, according to previously mentioned chapter, managed by Metalman and I’m inclined to agree since Quickman doesn’t care enough, in Mixverse at least.
Magnetman tries to manage the Third Numbers but I don’t know how well he succeeds at it or how much the others humors him. Hardman might try to help out but his personality is a bit too square to be good at it.
The Fourth Numbers, the Cossackbots, are so totally not humoring Ringman. Poor soul.
I suppose Crystalman tries to manage the Fifth Numbers but always get swept up in the crazy fun.
Shademan keeps the peace among the Seventh Numbers and makes it look deceptively easy since he’s such a smooth talker and good planner.
And I have no idea how the dynamics would be among the Sixth, Eighth, Ninth and Tenth Numbers since those get little to no panel-time for various reasons. I really wish Capcom would let Ariga do more Gigamix stories.
