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wyntir_knightTitle: Bleeding Daylight
Fandom: Transformers: G1 (Wings Universe)
Characters: Smokescreen
Pairings: Smokescreen/Swindle
Rating: Mature
Content Tags/Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence
Other Tags: Canon-Divergent - AU, TF: Wings Universe, Friendship, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Cross-faction relationship, Torture, Alcohol/Drugs, PTSD, Slavery, Suicidal thoughts, Switching alignment
Summary: Swindle and Smokescreen were secretly bonded before the war. It ended tragically. Now, millennia later they have found each other again and if they're lucky they may be able to help end the war.
Part 1
Smokescreen shivered and fought to redirect the impulses from his sensor panels. He had lost track of how long Acidlock had had him in this room bombarding him with infrasound. His chronometer had stalled some time back as his survival protocols began to reroute energy and focus away from non-essential systems. His head was pounding with static and his doors were in pain from overstimulation. And, unfortunately, Smokescreen knew what was supposed to come next and the last thing he wanted was for his sensor panels to be online when Acidlock next came in.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath as he tried to force the coding of his doors to obey him and shut down.
“Access denied. Survival protocols engaged,” he heard his own voice drone back at him.
“Damn it straight to the pit,” he growled as he took a different route. This was his thirteenth try to shut down the panels and each time his survival protocols refused to allow him to do it, his addled processor having decided that those panels were an essential system.
The infrasound stopped leaving the room in painful silence and Smokescreen had to fight to not sag in relief. The door opened and Acidlock entered, a large predatory smile on his face.
“So, ready to talk yet, Smokescreen?”
“I have been talking,” Smokescreen grit out. “You just haven’t been listening.”
Acidlock closed the door behind him and came to walk around Smokescreen. As soon as his fingers brushed over those over-sensitized sensory panels Smokescreen had to bite back a scream. Pleasure to the point of pain lanced through his body and he strained up in his bindings.
“So, walk me through what happened the morning that he left,” Acidlock said.
“I. Already. Told you,” Smokescreen said through clenched denta.
“I want to hear it again.” Acidlock ran his fingers over the leading edge of the left door drawing a hiss from his captive.
Smokescreen tried to pull his door away only to have it held in an iron grip.
“He left four hours before his shift was supposed to start. He said that Onslaught had found something that might end the war. He didn’t tell me anything more and he hasn’t contacted me since.”
Acidlock came to stand in front of Smokescreen and brought an electro-prod into view.
“You’ve done this job before Smokescreen. You know as well as I do that when a suspect’s answers sound too rehearsed it’s because they are.”
With that he activated the prod with a flick of his thumb and the room was filled with the faint smell of ozone.
“And you know that this kind of interrogation get invalid answers and false confessions ninety-three percent of the time,” Smokescreen spat out. “What in Prima’s name are you hoping to get out of this?”
“I’m hoping to get at the truth,” Acidlock replied simply. Then, with no warning he pressed the prod against Smokescreen’s right door.
When the Praxian’s vocalizer shorted out he pulled the prod away and continued speaking.
“True, this kind of interrogation only gets at the truth seven percent of the time, but when I’m the one doing it, that percentage is closer to eighty-eight.”
Smokescreen’s vents were running ragged and it was a fight to stay online. He failed.
Fandom: Transformers: G1 (Wings Universe)
Characters: Smokescreen
Pairings: Smokescreen/Swindle
Rating: Mature
Content Tags/Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence
Other Tags: Canon-Divergent - AU, TF: Wings Universe, Friendship, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Cross-faction relationship, Torture, Alcohol/Drugs, PTSD, Slavery, Suicidal thoughts, Switching alignment
Summary: Swindle and Smokescreen were secretly bonded before the war. It ended tragically. Now, millennia later they have found each other again and if they're lucky they may be able to help end the war.
Part 1
Smokescreen shivered and fought to redirect the impulses from his sensor panels. He had lost track of how long Acidlock had had him in this room bombarding him with infrasound. His chronometer had stalled some time back as his survival protocols began to reroute energy and focus away from non-essential systems. His head was pounding with static and his doors were in pain from overstimulation. And, unfortunately, Smokescreen knew what was supposed to come next and the last thing he wanted was for his sensor panels to be online when Acidlock next came in.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath as he tried to force the coding of his doors to obey him and shut down.
“Access denied. Survival protocols engaged,” he heard his own voice drone back at him.
“Damn it straight to the pit,” he growled as he took a different route. This was his thirteenth try to shut down the panels and each time his survival protocols refused to allow him to do it, his addled processor having decided that those panels were an essential system.
The infrasound stopped leaving the room in painful silence and Smokescreen had to fight to not sag in relief. The door opened and Acidlock entered, a large predatory smile on his face.
“So, ready to talk yet, Smokescreen?”
“I have been talking,” Smokescreen grit out. “You just haven’t been listening.”
Acidlock closed the door behind him and came to walk around Smokescreen. As soon as his fingers brushed over those over-sensitized sensory panels Smokescreen had to bite back a scream. Pleasure to the point of pain lanced through his body and he strained up in his bindings.
“So, walk me through what happened the morning that he left,” Acidlock said.
“I. Already. Told you,” Smokescreen said through clenched denta.
“I want to hear it again.” Acidlock ran his fingers over the leading edge of the left door drawing a hiss from his captive.
Smokescreen tried to pull his door away only to have it held in an iron grip.
“He left four hours before his shift was supposed to start. He said that Onslaught had found something that might end the war. He didn’t tell me anything more and he hasn’t contacted me since.”
Acidlock came to stand in front of Smokescreen and brought an electro-prod into view.
“You’ve done this job before Smokescreen. You know as well as I do that when a suspect’s answers sound too rehearsed it’s because they are.”
With that he activated the prod with a flick of his thumb and the room was filled with the faint smell of ozone.
“And you know that this kind of interrogation get invalid answers and false confessions ninety-three percent of the time,” Smokescreen spat out. “What in Prima’s name are you hoping to get out of this?”
“I’m hoping to get at the truth,” Acidlock replied simply. Then, with no warning he pressed the prod against Smokescreen’s right door.
When the Praxian’s vocalizer shorted out he pulled the prod away and continued speaking.
“True, this kind of interrogation only gets at the truth seven percent of the time, but when I’m the one doing it, that percentage is closer to eighty-eight.”
Smokescreen’s vents were running ragged and it was a fight to stay online. He failed.