Fic: Wake up Call - Ch 3
Dec. 18th, 2011 08:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
camfieldTitle: Wake up Call - Ch 3
Universe: G1
Characters: Jazz/Prowl
Rating: NC 17
Warnings: Death, Mutilation, Mind fuckery, Dark fic, references to interfacing, language.
Disclaimer: I claim nothing but my own poor writing and ideas
Mild chapter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Weeks had passed with no new body, and things were finally starting to settle back down into a semblance of order.
Jazz had been… distant, to all the other mecha. Taking his energon rations and leaving the rec room immediately, refusing to get involved with any of the twin’s pranks and even begging off when Blaster asked him to help plan a party.
In short, something was wrong with Jazz.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jazz sat in Prowl’s office, a half drunk energon cube dangling listlessly from his hand as he stared into the distance.
More and more he had been coming here to watch his lover work, something that before had been quite boring was now quite soothing to his tangled mind.
He’d not been quite honest with Ratchet, something he knew that Ratchet knew.
The last mech had brought back memory files he’d buried deep in his processor with no intention to ever recall them. The only reason they hadn’t been deleted was that no self-respecting ops agent would willingly delete information that they might be able to use later on. Blackmail was something that almost everyone respected.
Himself included.
Why whomever was doing this and choosing these particular mecha… Jazz didn’t know, yet. His past was something that he had jealously guarded from the moment he’d been recruited into Ops. His appearance, designation, nearly everything had been changed. There shouldn’t be ANYONE who knew who he was.
And yet, the specific dead mecha in the Ark’s medbay stated otherwise.
It was frustrating to say the least, and his brooding was starting to get on even his own nerves. So lost was he in his own thoughts that when Prowl wrapped his arms around Jazz’s waist he jumped and his energon cube flew across the room.
Prowl tightened his hold in response.
“Easy Jazz! Are you alright?”
Jazz forced himself to relax into his lover’s arms.
“Thinkin’ ‘bout unpleasant things Prowler. Nothin’ yah need to bother yahself wit’."
Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl’s and leaned back, resting his head back onto a strong shoulder and turning his head into the warm neck.
“If it makes you this unhappy I should hardly think it is something I need not ‘bother’ myself with. Would you like to talk about it?”
The words were murmured against his audio horns and he shivered against the pleasant sensations that ran through him.
“Ah don’ suppose yah’d be willing to make it all better, yah know, instead of all that boring talking.”
The hands around his middle loosened to trail fingertips along the plating of his abdomen and thighs, the touch maddeningly light and insufficient.
“I’m not sure Jazz, perhaps you should talk me though exactly what you want. That way I can have my ‘boring talking’ and you might just get what you want.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was later that evening, much later, when a mech slipped out of the Ark, intent on their chosen task.
The last mech had sent a message, and he would be foolish to not capitalize on the opportunity it brought. Jazz was already on edge, perhaps now was the time to knock him over.
His silent laughter/sobs shook his chassis as he moved, keeping silent and in the shadows, and even through his convictions he couldn’t help but feel the pain he had worked so hard to push down.
‘He was MINE! I could have GIVEN love!’
That thought came up again and again. Jazz had been his alone! Then he’d had to go and ruin it with that…. With that-
Well, it didn’t matter now anyhow. He wasn’t able to stop, not when doing this produced the most satisfied feelings he’d ever felt. Even if he thought maybe that stopping now would preserve what little relationship was left…
He shook those thoughts out of his processor, leaving only the firm resolve he’d started this venture with.
He would finish what he started and everyone would know exactly who and what Jazz really was.
‘Now I’m taking Love’
His coo to the Jazz in his processor was tinged with not a small amount of malicious glee, because they would pay. They would pay in the only way that gave him some closure.
Chapter 4
Universe: G1
Characters: Jazz/Prowl
Rating: NC 17
Warnings: Death, Mutilation, Mind fuckery, Dark fic, references to interfacing, language.
Disclaimer: I claim nothing but my own poor writing and ideas
Mild chapter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Weeks had passed with no new body, and things were finally starting to settle back down into a semblance of order.
Jazz had been… distant, to all the other mecha. Taking his energon rations and leaving the rec room immediately, refusing to get involved with any of the twin’s pranks and even begging off when Blaster asked him to help plan a party.
In short, something was wrong with Jazz.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jazz sat in Prowl’s office, a half drunk energon cube dangling listlessly from his hand as he stared into the distance.
More and more he had been coming here to watch his lover work, something that before had been quite boring was now quite soothing to his tangled mind.
He’d not been quite honest with Ratchet, something he knew that Ratchet knew.
The last mech had brought back memory files he’d buried deep in his processor with no intention to ever recall them. The only reason they hadn’t been deleted was that no self-respecting ops agent would willingly delete information that they might be able to use later on. Blackmail was something that almost everyone respected.
Himself included.
Why whomever was doing this and choosing these particular mecha… Jazz didn’t know, yet. His past was something that he had jealously guarded from the moment he’d been recruited into Ops. His appearance, designation, nearly everything had been changed. There shouldn’t be ANYONE who knew who he was.
And yet, the specific dead mecha in the Ark’s medbay stated otherwise.
It was frustrating to say the least, and his brooding was starting to get on even his own nerves. So lost was he in his own thoughts that when Prowl wrapped his arms around Jazz’s waist he jumped and his energon cube flew across the room.
Prowl tightened his hold in response.
“Easy Jazz! Are you alright?”
Jazz forced himself to relax into his lover’s arms.
“Thinkin’ ‘bout unpleasant things Prowler. Nothin’ yah need to bother yahself wit’."
Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl’s and leaned back, resting his head back onto a strong shoulder and turning his head into the warm neck.
“If it makes you this unhappy I should hardly think it is something I need not ‘bother’ myself with. Would you like to talk about it?”
The words were murmured against his audio horns and he shivered against the pleasant sensations that ran through him.
“Ah don’ suppose yah’d be willing to make it all better, yah know, instead of all that boring talking.”
The hands around his middle loosened to trail fingertips along the plating of his abdomen and thighs, the touch maddeningly light and insufficient.
“I’m not sure Jazz, perhaps you should talk me though exactly what you want. That way I can have my ‘boring talking’ and you might just get what you want.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was later that evening, much later, when a mech slipped out of the Ark, intent on their chosen task.
The last mech had sent a message, and he would be foolish to not capitalize on the opportunity it brought. Jazz was already on edge, perhaps now was the time to knock him over.
His silent laughter/sobs shook his chassis as he moved, keeping silent and in the shadows, and even through his convictions he couldn’t help but feel the pain he had worked so hard to push down.
‘He was MINE! I could have GIVEN love!’
That thought came up again and again. Jazz had been his alone! Then he’d had to go and ruin it with that…. With that-
Well, it didn’t matter now anyhow. He wasn’t able to stop, not when doing this produced the most satisfied feelings he’d ever felt. Even if he thought maybe that stopping now would preserve what little relationship was left…
He shook those thoughts out of his processor, leaving only the firm resolve he’d started this venture with.
He would finish what he started and everyone would know exactly who and what Jazz really was.
‘Now I’m taking Love’
His coo to the Jazz in his processor was tinged with not a small amount of malicious glee, because they would pay. They would pay in the only way that gave him some closure.
Chapter 4
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-12-18 01:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-19 04:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-18 02:43 pm (UTC)*forgotten pop-corn in the background* *face pressed on screen* Must.....read...ON! *eye twitch*
no subject
Date: 2011-12-19 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-18 04:05 pm (UTC)*runs around in hysteria*
Darn it this is sooo good can't wait for more!
*waits anxiously on the edge of the chair*
no subject
Date: 2011-12-19 04:23 am (UTC)HAMSTER!
:p
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Date: 2011-12-19 06:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-19 04:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-18 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-19 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-19 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-19 04:24 am (UTC)