Bonk
Iām taking this as an excuse to release this excerpt of writing for one of my fav rarepairs that I never talk about lmao.
(itās an older piece of writing, just so distracted by jetbee that I highly doubt Iām going to finish writing the rest of it in the foreseeable future LOL)
(Ratchet x Soundwave G1)
ITS HALFBAKED I COULDNT FIGURE OUT THE DIALOGUE OK-
Ratchet was already shaken from the sudden attack on him earlier that day, and naturally did not react well to the servo placed on his pauldron. The touch had been light, non-threatening, but the medic was already swinging the wrench in his servo at the offender before any of that registered in his overworked processor. A resounding clang accompanied by the sound of smashing glass flew across the previously quiet room.
Ratchet had only just registered that he had just hit Soundwave of all botsāone of the few decepticons who had treated him fairlyā when he was belted across the helm. He toppled back into the wall, frame reeling as his recently re-melded chevron was snapped once again. Heād no time to recover before servos pinned his wrists to the wall and a very upset looking faceplate was up in his vision. āRatchet: hit Soundwave. (idk smth threatening whatever)ā
Ratchet could feel the way his struts strained as his pede tips barely brushed the floor of his cell. Soundwave then shifted Ratchet up ā now his pedes were completely in the airā to look him directly in the optics, a low, angry whirr working its way out of his vocalizer. āā¦ Soundwave.ā A sharp tink as a piece of crimson glass fell between what scant space there was between them. Gold optics bore into blue ones, and as much as he wanted to break eye contact, Ratchet didnāt think he had that option.
āExplain.ā
The position he was in was uncomfortable, and Ratchet did not want to explain himself like this; not that Soundwave would let him go until he did. Squirming only earned him a tighter grip. āI thought you were another one of the combaticons, and reacted as such.ā Ratchet dug his heels against the wall in an attempt to gain any sort of leverage. āNow let me go, please.ā The please had been difficult to say, keeping his tone polite and level even harder.
Soundwave did not let go, looking at him in an almost expectant manner instead. Ratchet very much wanted to hit the petulant cassette player with a wrench again. āandā¦. I am. Sorry for hitting you.ā He broke eye contact as the wall opposite to the one he was pinned against began to look much more interesting than the way his captorās optics cycled in a mocking manner. āAnd?ā Ratchet was going to kill this bot, enemy third in command or not. āAnd.ā He gritted his dentae. āI will be giving you repairs to the best of my abilities, while (idk smth that they referenced in earlier chapters?)ā
The pleased purr the decepticon made did not make Ratchetās mood any better as he was gently set down on the Nemesisās floor. He quickly scrambled out from between Soundwave and the wall, pretending to do something with the scant tools given to him on the desk. His spark was hammering furiously in its spark casing as he busied his servos with a piece of metal. There will never be a time where he will ever admit to being intimidated in such a compromised position.
His face throbbed.
