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wyntir_knightTitle: Untitled
Warnings/Content Advice: Dark themes, violence, non-con
Rating: M
Continuity: AU - I have no idea
Characters: Smokescreen, Swindle, Vortex
Disclaimer: Not mine ... and I think I may have stolen this idea from LadyDragon76's Cracka-verse, in fact I'm sure I did, so apologies there.
Note: The characters are human and they don't know why. And no, I have no clue where this is going, it just needed to be written. More will likely follow eventually. Right now though, this is crack. However, any comments or thoughts would be appreciated.
Smokescreen leaned against the massive window frame of the room and looked out at the lights of Las Vegas. They had been in the city for a month, human for three times longer than that and they still had no clue where the other Cybertronians were or what had happened to them. One moment they were getting their bearings after landing and the next they were doubling over in pain. At least that was the description Onslaught and Vortex gave of the situation. Smokescreen had been too busy fighting for his life against an enraged Swindle.
He sighed softly and swirled the scotch in his tumbler, listening to the ice clinking against the glass. He knew he shouldn’t be drinking. It seemed that their metabolisms were odd causing drugs and alcohol to hit them far faster and harder than the same amount would hit a natural-born human. Still, he was bored, tired, depressed, and he needed an escape; the minibar seemed the better choice than the other options available to him. It seemed that Las Vegas had more than earned its reputation as “Sin City”, though the vices being offered were positively tame compared to what Smokescreen was used to from places like Monocus and Risa and Rigel Nine. Still, it was what he had available to him.
He took a sip and grimaced slightly at the burn in his mouth and throat. It was something like high grade – not as sweet, but that spreading warmth through his chest and the slight fogging of his mind was very familiar. Familiar and comforting.
Unfortunately it was also dulling his reactions. He had heard the lock beep and the door open, swishing softly over the carpeting. He felt more than heard the other man slip up behind him, but it never occurred to him that someone other than Swindle would be entering their room unannounced. Pity he hadn't left the lights on the room, otherwise he might have seen Vortex's reflection in the window, standing right behind him. As it was he received no warning before he was grabbed, spun, and slammed into the wall next to the large plate-glass window.
"What do you know?" Vortex sneered, his face bare inches from Smokescreen's. "I had been hoping for an opportunity to talk with you alone, Ace and here you are served up to me on a silver platter."
Smokescreen tried to remain calm in the face of the psychopath but the hard, cold blade pressed against the far too soft skin of his belly was making it hard to think.
"Hi, there, Tex. Long time no see. What'd you want to talk about?" the card sharp asked, his voice cracking only slightly.
"Been drinking again, I see," Vortex said, one hand moving up around Smokescreen's throat while the other remained poised to gut the Autobot where he stood. "Can't say that I'm surprised. You always were an addict. Never knew when to get out when the getting was good ... Well, there was that one time, wasn't there?"
"Please, Vortex, we can talk about this, right?" Smokescreen asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. He took hold of the arm threatening to cut off his air supply and tightened slightly. Vortex was bigger and stronger than he was, but that didn't mean Smokescreen couldn't out talk him. He just needed a single distraction.
"I'm thinking that the time for talk is long past, don't you?" Vortex asked.
"So what?" Smokescreen asked. "You're going to kill me? I mean, I know you're only thinking about Swindle, but he won't thank you if he comes back and finds me dead."
"Oh, I'm not going to kill you." A wicked smile pulled at Vortex's lips, pulling the already wide mouth even wider. "After all, if I just killed you, you wouldn't learn anything. And frankly, death? Death is just way, way too quick a sentence for what you've done, Smokey."
With that the knife was pressed more firmly against Smokescreen’s belly. The former Autobot tried to shrink back away but Vortex’s hand tightened.
“I’m not going to kill you, Smokescreen, but if you keep on struggling, my hand might very well slip and that would be very, very unfortunate.”
To punctuate the point, Vortex dragged the blade across Smokescreen’s skin, drawing a thin line of blood to the surface.
“Look! We can talk, ‘Tex. I have no problem with talking, but this would be a whole lot more comfortable for both of us if we took this to the couch. Or something. Anywhere other than this window, okay?”
"Why? Worried I might throw you out?" To punctuate the question, Vortex dragged Smokescreen closer to the window and pressed him against it. "Certainly a sixty-story fall will give you time to think before you hot the ground. I have to wonder if you'll hit terminal velocity from this height?"
Smokescreen let go of Vortex's hands and took a firm hold of his hips. "If I go out there then you're coming with me," he hissed with far more bravado and confidence than he felt. "And you can't fly as a human, 'Tex."
They stayed like that for a long time, neither moving, Smokescreen barely breathing as the knife continued to press against his flesh and Vortex glared at him, insanity lighting his eyes. Finally Vortex flew into motion, spinning and throwing the two of them onto a nearby couch. Smokescreen twisted and kicked out, knocking the Decepticon back, but Vortex was fast and Smokescreen had drunk far too much scotch to be in top form. He was barely a foot away when Vortex landed on him and flipped him to his back, pinning him to the ground.
"Not done with you or our chat," Vortex growled. With no warning he sent a wild pulse into Smokescreen's spark causing the Autobot to arch up with a scream.
"Get off me!" Smokescreen shoved at Vortex, trying to create a distance between the two of them before his spark was damaged.
The pulsing continued. Two more violent strikes before Vortex pulled away suddenly.
"Isn't it good to know that we still have sparks?" he asked conversationally as Smokescreen curled into a ball and tried to calm his racing heart and spark.
"What do you want?" he growled, but there was more than a hint of desperation, pain, and fear in his voice. "What in the hell do you want, Vortex?"
"Here's the thing, Smokey," Vortex said as he took a seat on the couch. "Every time you and Swindle end up together, I end up having to pick up the pieces. I was the one who had to deal with you walking out on us, I was the one who had to help him out when you tried to kill him, and I was the one who got the joy of putting him back together after you handed us all back to Megatron for punishment. I would really rather not have to pick up those pieces again."
"Fine. Noted. This time I'll make sure that Swindle isn't hurt," Smokescreen spat out as he tried to stand.
"See, the problem with that is that I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. And if we're talking vertically? I can throw you pretty far from here." Vortex chuckled at his own joke. "No, see this little visit was meant more as a friendly warning. I know for a fact that you're going to drop Swindle again once we find the rest of the Cybertronians, and I just want you to grasp just what I'm going to do to you when that happens."
Vortex's tone was quiet and conversational and it sent shivers down Smokescreen's spine. The former helicopter was insane, dangerous, and unbelievably earnest.
"And that little play with your spark? Well that was just a reminder that you still have one. And if it's there, it can be removed."
"What?" Smokescreen whispered as he levered himself against a chair.
Vortex stood and collected his jacket. "I watched them as they prepared us for the mind prison, Smokescreen. I'm fairly certain that I can recreate everything they did. I will be rather interesting to see if our sparks will gutter if they're forced from this human form. Certainly, human parts don't function for long when they're removed."
With that he left, leaving Smokescreen alone in a darkened room.
~~~
Swindle entered the room and tossed his jacket over a nearby chair.
"Well that could have gone better," he muttered. "Smokes! I'm home. Where are you?"
The main room was darkened, with only the Las Vegas lights illuminating the space, but it was clear that Smokescreen wasn't in the the living space.
"Don't tell me you're sleeping. I need to vent about the idiot humans and their lack of appreciation," Swindle grumbled, but there was a lightness to his tone as he headed toward the sleeping room. "I need you to make me feel better, and I think I can come up with a great way for you to do it!"
Smokescreen was lying on the bed, propped up on one elbow, a book in one hand. He was the picture of relaxed calm, still damp from a recent shower, but something about the scene seemed staged and Swindle felt himself stiffen.
"What's going on?" he asked tightly.
"Hi, Swin. I take it that the humans were being a little less than amenable?" Smokescreen asked with a smile. "Well don't worry about it. That was just one group. We have more than enough to hit up, and even more other angles we can take."
"Yeah, you not answering my question isn't relaxing me, Smokey," Swindle replied as he sat on the edge of the bed and plucked the book out of Smokescreen's hand. "Introduction to Behavioural Psychology? Do you really need this?"
Smokescreen shrugged and sat up, moving to sensually lean up against his mate. "It's interesting. And it'll help to know the differences between them an us. Though so far, those differences are pretty minor. ... Apparently you can even reprogram them with care and time."
Swindle leaned into Smokescreen, purring slightly as his mate began to pepper kissed across his jaw and down his neck. The former Autobot shifted until he was straddling Swindle's lap, and with deft fingers, began to remove the Decepticon's tie and undo the shirt buttons.
"Have I mentioned how much I love being able to do this without risking crushing you?" Smokescreen asked between kisses. "And not having my damned chest in the way?"
"I wasn't that small," Swindle grumbled as he began to pull up on Smokescreen's t-shirt.
Instantly, Smokescreen pulled the t-shirt back down and he shoved Swindle back on the berth. "Now, now. This is about you. After all, you asked me to make you feel better."
One hand ran down Swindle's side, then came to rest over his already bulging erection. "Now let me make you feel better and distract you from all those evil humans and their refusal to know a good thing when they see one."
"Yeah, you're trying to distract me all right," Swindle growled. He may have been smaller than Smokescreen, but he was used to holding his own against much larger Decepticons. In an instant he had flipped their positions on the bed and had the Autobot pinned beneath him.
Swindle held Smokescreen's hands with one hand and began to force his partner's shirt up with the other.
"Swindle! Stop it! Let me up, you fragger!" Smokescreen cried as he thrashed beneath Swindle, trying to extricate himself. His fight went out of him as his shirt was lifted and the bandage was exposed.
Swindle's violet eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in anger.
"What the hell is this?" he asked, releasing Smokescreen's hands and pulling up the shirt completely so that he could inspect the wound closely.
Smokescreen stiffened but stopped struggling and looked away. "We had a visit from Vortex," he muttered. "He decided that this was a great time to chat about the situation and remind me of how soft we are now."
"I will murder him," Swindle growled. "I will skin him and hang his entrails from the street lamps!"
Swindle carefully pulled at the bandage to make sure that it had been cared for properly, relaxing slightly when he realized that the damage was minimal.
"Tell me this is all he did," Swindle asked tightly and Smokescreen could feel his body vibrating with barely suppressed rage.
"Yeah. Mostly it was just threats and a little blood play," Smokescreen replied, sagging slightly. A small shiver shook his body and he started to curl into Swindle. "And a reminder that he watched the whole process of having your sparks removed and that we still have sparks in this form. Somewhere."
"If he comes back and I'm not here, you are to shoot him. I don't care if it'll kill Bruticus when we get back to normal," Swindle growled. "If Vortex comes anywhere near you, he is a dead man. You are mine and NO ONE hurts what's MINE!"
With that he kissed Smokescreen deeply. It was angry, needy, claiming, and comforting all at once. Smokescreen and Swindle's relationship may have been broken, but they were each other's and there was a twisted protection there.
Smoksecreen's nails raked into Swindle's back as he pressed himself up against his lover, spreading his legs and wrapping them around Swindle's hips. It was the only invitation the Combaticon needed.
Warnings/Content Advice: Dark themes, violence, non-con
Rating: M
Continuity: AU - I have no idea
Characters: Smokescreen, Swindle, Vortex
Disclaimer: Not mine ... and I think I may have stolen this idea from LadyDragon76's Cracka-verse, in fact I'm sure I did, so apologies there.
Note: The characters are human and they don't know why. And no, I have no clue where this is going, it just needed to be written. More will likely follow eventually. Right now though, this is crack. However, any comments or thoughts would be appreciated.
Smokescreen leaned against the massive window frame of the room and looked out at the lights of Las Vegas. They had been in the city for a month, human for three times longer than that and they still had no clue where the other Cybertronians were or what had happened to them. One moment they were getting their bearings after landing and the next they were doubling over in pain. At least that was the description Onslaught and Vortex gave of the situation. Smokescreen had been too busy fighting for his life against an enraged Swindle.
He sighed softly and swirled the scotch in his tumbler, listening to the ice clinking against the glass. He knew he shouldn’t be drinking. It seemed that their metabolisms were odd causing drugs and alcohol to hit them far faster and harder than the same amount would hit a natural-born human. Still, he was bored, tired, depressed, and he needed an escape; the minibar seemed the better choice than the other options available to him. It seemed that Las Vegas had more than earned its reputation as “Sin City”, though the vices being offered were positively tame compared to what Smokescreen was used to from places like Monocus and Risa and Rigel Nine. Still, it was what he had available to him.
He took a sip and grimaced slightly at the burn in his mouth and throat. It was something like high grade – not as sweet, but that spreading warmth through his chest and the slight fogging of his mind was very familiar. Familiar and comforting.
Unfortunately it was also dulling his reactions. He had heard the lock beep and the door open, swishing softly over the carpeting. He felt more than heard the other man slip up behind him, but it never occurred to him that someone other than Swindle would be entering their room unannounced. Pity he hadn't left the lights on the room, otherwise he might have seen Vortex's reflection in the window, standing right behind him. As it was he received no warning before he was grabbed, spun, and slammed into the wall next to the large plate-glass window.
"What do you know?" Vortex sneered, his face bare inches from Smokescreen's. "I had been hoping for an opportunity to talk with you alone, Ace and here you are served up to me on a silver platter."
Smokescreen tried to remain calm in the face of the psychopath but the hard, cold blade pressed against the far too soft skin of his belly was making it hard to think.
"Hi, there, Tex. Long time no see. What'd you want to talk about?" the card sharp asked, his voice cracking only slightly.
"Been drinking again, I see," Vortex said, one hand moving up around Smokescreen's throat while the other remained poised to gut the Autobot where he stood. "Can't say that I'm surprised. You always were an addict. Never knew when to get out when the getting was good ... Well, there was that one time, wasn't there?"
"Please, Vortex, we can talk about this, right?" Smokescreen asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. He took hold of the arm threatening to cut off his air supply and tightened slightly. Vortex was bigger and stronger than he was, but that didn't mean Smokescreen couldn't out talk him. He just needed a single distraction.
"I'm thinking that the time for talk is long past, don't you?" Vortex asked.
"So what?" Smokescreen asked. "You're going to kill me? I mean, I know you're only thinking about Swindle, but he won't thank you if he comes back and finds me dead."
"Oh, I'm not going to kill you." A wicked smile pulled at Vortex's lips, pulling the already wide mouth even wider. "After all, if I just killed you, you wouldn't learn anything. And frankly, death? Death is just way, way too quick a sentence for what you've done, Smokey."
With that the knife was pressed more firmly against Smokescreen’s belly. The former Autobot tried to shrink back away but Vortex’s hand tightened.
“I’m not going to kill you, Smokescreen, but if you keep on struggling, my hand might very well slip and that would be very, very unfortunate.”
To punctuate the point, Vortex dragged the blade across Smokescreen’s skin, drawing a thin line of blood to the surface.
“Look! We can talk, ‘Tex. I have no problem with talking, but this would be a whole lot more comfortable for both of us if we took this to the couch. Or something. Anywhere other than this window, okay?”
"Why? Worried I might throw you out?" To punctuate the question, Vortex dragged Smokescreen closer to the window and pressed him against it. "Certainly a sixty-story fall will give you time to think before you hot the ground. I have to wonder if you'll hit terminal velocity from this height?"
Smokescreen let go of Vortex's hands and took a firm hold of his hips. "If I go out there then you're coming with me," he hissed with far more bravado and confidence than he felt. "And you can't fly as a human, 'Tex."
They stayed like that for a long time, neither moving, Smokescreen barely breathing as the knife continued to press against his flesh and Vortex glared at him, insanity lighting his eyes. Finally Vortex flew into motion, spinning and throwing the two of them onto a nearby couch. Smokescreen twisted and kicked out, knocking the Decepticon back, but Vortex was fast and Smokescreen had drunk far too much scotch to be in top form. He was barely a foot away when Vortex landed on him and flipped him to his back, pinning him to the ground.
"Not done with you or our chat," Vortex growled. With no warning he sent a wild pulse into Smokescreen's spark causing the Autobot to arch up with a scream.
"Get off me!" Smokescreen shoved at Vortex, trying to create a distance between the two of them before his spark was damaged.
The pulsing continued. Two more violent strikes before Vortex pulled away suddenly.
"Isn't it good to know that we still have sparks?" he asked conversationally as Smokescreen curled into a ball and tried to calm his racing heart and spark.
"What do you want?" he growled, but there was more than a hint of desperation, pain, and fear in his voice. "What in the hell do you want, Vortex?"
"Here's the thing, Smokey," Vortex said as he took a seat on the couch. "Every time you and Swindle end up together, I end up having to pick up the pieces. I was the one who had to deal with you walking out on us, I was the one who had to help him out when you tried to kill him, and I was the one who got the joy of putting him back together after you handed us all back to Megatron for punishment. I would really rather not have to pick up those pieces again."
"Fine. Noted. This time I'll make sure that Swindle isn't hurt," Smokescreen spat out as he tried to stand.
"See, the problem with that is that I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. And if we're talking vertically? I can throw you pretty far from here." Vortex chuckled at his own joke. "No, see this little visit was meant more as a friendly warning. I know for a fact that you're going to drop Swindle again once we find the rest of the Cybertronians, and I just want you to grasp just what I'm going to do to you when that happens."
Vortex's tone was quiet and conversational and it sent shivers down Smokescreen's spine. The former helicopter was insane, dangerous, and unbelievably earnest.
"And that little play with your spark? Well that was just a reminder that you still have one. And if it's there, it can be removed."
"What?" Smokescreen whispered as he levered himself against a chair.
Vortex stood and collected his jacket. "I watched them as they prepared us for the mind prison, Smokescreen. I'm fairly certain that I can recreate everything they did. I will be rather interesting to see if our sparks will gutter if they're forced from this human form. Certainly, human parts don't function for long when they're removed."
With that he left, leaving Smokescreen alone in a darkened room.
~~~
Swindle entered the room and tossed his jacket over a nearby chair.
"Well that could have gone better," he muttered. "Smokes! I'm home. Where are you?"
The main room was darkened, with only the Las Vegas lights illuminating the space, but it was clear that Smokescreen wasn't in the the living space.
"Don't tell me you're sleeping. I need to vent about the idiot humans and their lack of appreciation," Swindle grumbled, but there was a lightness to his tone as he headed toward the sleeping room. "I need you to make me feel better, and I think I can come up with a great way for you to do it!"
Smokescreen was lying on the bed, propped up on one elbow, a book in one hand. He was the picture of relaxed calm, still damp from a recent shower, but something about the scene seemed staged and Swindle felt himself stiffen.
"What's going on?" he asked tightly.
"Hi, Swin. I take it that the humans were being a little less than amenable?" Smokescreen asked with a smile. "Well don't worry about it. That was just one group. We have more than enough to hit up, and even more other angles we can take."
"Yeah, you not answering my question isn't relaxing me, Smokey," Swindle replied as he sat on the edge of the bed and plucked the book out of Smokescreen's hand. "Introduction to Behavioural Psychology? Do you really need this?"
Smokescreen shrugged and sat up, moving to sensually lean up against his mate. "It's interesting. And it'll help to know the differences between them an us. Though so far, those differences are pretty minor. ... Apparently you can even reprogram them with care and time."
Swindle leaned into Smokescreen, purring slightly as his mate began to pepper kissed across his jaw and down his neck. The former Autobot shifted until he was straddling Swindle's lap, and with deft fingers, began to remove the Decepticon's tie and undo the shirt buttons.
"Have I mentioned how much I love being able to do this without risking crushing you?" Smokescreen asked between kisses. "And not having my damned chest in the way?"
"I wasn't that small," Swindle grumbled as he began to pull up on Smokescreen's t-shirt.
Instantly, Smokescreen pulled the t-shirt back down and he shoved Swindle back on the berth. "Now, now. This is about you. After all, you asked me to make you feel better."
One hand ran down Swindle's side, then came to rest over his already bulging erection. "Now let me make you feel better and distract you from all those evil humans and their refusal to know a good thing when they see one."
"Yeah, you're trying to distract me all right," Swindle growled. He may have been smaller than Smokescreen, but he was used to holding his own against much larger Decepticons. In an instant he had flipped their positions on the bed and had the Autobot pinned beneath him.
Swindle held Smokescreen's hands with one hand and began to force his partner's shirt up with the other.
"Swindle! Stop it! Let me up, you fragger!" Smokescreen cried as he thrashed beneath Swindle, trying to extricate himself. His fight went out of him as his shirt was lifted and the bandage was exposed.
Swindle's violet eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in anger.
"What the hell is this?" he asked, releasing Smokescreen's hands and pulling up the shirt completely so that he could inspect the wound closely.
Smokescreen stiffened but stopped struggling and looked away. "We had a visit from Vortex," he muttered. "He decided that this was a great time to chat about the situation and remind me of how soft we are now."
"I will murder him," Swindle growled. "I will skin him and hang his entrails from the street lamps!"
Swindle carefully pulled at the bandage to make sure that it had been cared for properly, relaxing slightly when he realized that the damage was minimal.
"Tell me this is all he did," Swindle asked tightly and Smokescreen could feel his body vibrating with barely suppressed rage.
"Yeah. Mostly it was just threats and a little blood play," Smokescreen replied, sagging slightly. A small shiver shook his body and he started to curl into Swindle. "And a reminder that he watched the whole process of having your sparks removed and that we still have sparks in this form. Somewhere."
"If he comes back and I'm not here, you are to shoot him. I don't care if it'll kill Bruticus when we get back to normal," Swindle growled. "If Vortex comes anywhere near you, he is a dead man. You are mine and NO ONE hurts what's MINE!"
With that he kissed Smokescreen deeply. It was angry, needy, claiming, and comforting all at once. Smokescreen and Swindle's relationship may have been broken, but they were each other's and there was a twisted protection there.
Smoksecreen's nails raked into Swindle's back as he pressed himself up against his lover, spreading his legs and wrapping them around Swindle's hips. It was the only invitation the Combaticon needed.
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Date: 7 May 2014 00:20 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 May 2014 03:14 (UTC)