Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ravage had been peacefully in recharge when suddenly he was getting the order to eject. If not for his superior reflexes he might have come out in cassette form and simply fallen onto the ground due to his tiredness, but no, Ravage always landed on his feet. His landing was graceful, even as his optics were half squinting and dim with an obvious grogginess, and he'd barely landed before he was already letting out a big stretch, arching his back and letting his sharp denta show as his intake fell open wide during the motion.

He looked up at Soundwave displeased, wondering what could be so important that he needed to disrupt his recharge like this.

He was surprised though when he immediately noticed a subtle nervousness glinting in the taller bot’s visor.

“What’s up?” Ravage asked, deciding his concern for Soundwave was more important than his annoyance.

The cassette player seemed to need a moment to gather his thoughts before providing a response.

“I have doubts towards Overlord’s loyalty,” Soundwave ended up saying rather bluntly.

Ravage scoffed at that.

“Don’t we all,” he muttered, “Megatron was smart to install that killswitch.”

Soundwave gave a hum at that, one sounding more of mere acknowledgement rather than agreement.

“There are many whose loyalties are questionable,” Soundwave went on to say, “Starscream himself is a good example of that. The issue with Overlord is that he is surprisingly good at masking his thoughts.”

Ravage blinked at that.

“Really?” he asked incredulously, he really hadn’t expected a brute like Overlord to have the care or foresight to even try and hide his intentions.

“I find it very difficult trying to get a read on him,” Soundwave admitted, “which, usually, is fine. As you said, he has the killswitch to stop him from truly rebelling,” the cassette player paused, in a way that from any other bot would seem like a very obvious attempt at doing a dramatic and suspenseful flourish, but Ravage knew it was merely Soundwave going over his thoughts again, “However,” the cassette player continued, “there is a new component at play now, and I worry that Overlord is plotting something.”

Ravage stretched out his legs some more then, it was pretty clear to him that this conversation would end in him being sent to do reconnaissance.

“Oh yeah?” he prompted anyway, even if the mission specifics were not entirely important when his job was such a simple one.

“When I was being held captive by the New Institute,” Soundwave started, and Ravage winced at the mere memory of that. Waiting for Soundwave to be safely returned had been utter hell, “Overlord was part of the rescue crew,” Soundwave continued, “and as we were leaving he took a souvenir with him.”

“A souvenir?” Ravage repeated.

Soundwave gave a quick nod.

“One of the mnemosurgeons,” he explained, “in fact, the one who was about to perform surgery on me,” that last bit was spoken with Soundwave rubbing almost compulsively at a small section of his helm, and Ravage scowled at the implication.

He’d seen the cut when Soundwave had returned.

“I’d assumed that his intention was to torture the surgeon,” the cassette player continued, “It wasn’t unusual of him to do that, this isn’t the first souvenir he’s taken. However,” and Ravage could hear caution and irritation in Soundwave’s tone now, subtle but clear to him as someone who’d known the telepath for so long, “I may not be able to read his thoughts with the most clarity, given the way he is masking them, but I could hear enough to know that this mnemosurgeon is definitely still alive, even after all these months.”

Ravaged huffed out angrily at this, clearly this damn Autobot deserved death for what he’d tried to do to Soundwave.

“Maybe it’s a long torture then,” he hissed, both hopeful and infuriated.

Soundwave didn’t look convinced.

“None of his past play things have ever lasted this long,” Soundwave countered, “most don’t survive a week. I don’t know what he is planning with that surgeon, but I do not trust it.”

Yeah, Ravage certainly didn’t either.

“So, you want me to find out what he’s got that Autobot for,” Ravage said, more of a statement than a question.

The cassette player gave another nod.

“That’s correct.”

Ravage was already beginning to make his way towards the vents.

“I swear, you always give me the easy missions,” he said smugly.

-

The ventilation system of these headquarters, quite honestly, were a spy’s playground. It didn’t bode well for their own defences, but it certainly made trying to gather Intel on his fellow Decepticons such a simple task. They were a maze to navigate, but all connected in a way that meant that Ravage had free rein of the entire facility. And he knew the labyrinth of tunnels like the back of his servo, so making his way towards Overlord’s quarters was all too easy.

He’d been there a few times to spy in the past, and all he really discovered from that was that Overlord held an unhealthy and obsessive level of hatred towards their boss, which hadn’t really been a surprise given their history. He’d reported that back to Soundwave, of course, who then passed that information back to Megatron. But with that killswitch in play it seemed that Megatron hardly cared how Overlord personally felt about him. He’d be loyal or he would die, it was as simple as that.

Ravage wasn’t sure what to expect during his Intel run this time. What he was hoping to see what that blasted surgeon being tortured  or better yet, killed. Perhaps the desire was a little extreme, but it was what that Autobot deserved for trying to do something so despicable to Soundwave. Ravage had encountered other Cons who had not been so lucky as to receive a rescue before the surgeons could get their damn needles in them, he’d been in cassette form as Soundwave addressed them with the rest of the High Command. Most of those Cons, the ones that were not still hidden and twisted against them as spies and infiltrators, simply had nothing left in their minds to even salvage. Lobotomised and left abandoned as though they were not even worth the bullets it would take to end their horrible nothingness. They’d been stripped of whatever information they had, and then left as empty husks.

Which of those fates had they intended for Soundwave? Were they going to inadvertently make him betray his own side with the memories he could not keep from their invasive claws? Only to be abandoned as nothing more than a purposeless shell? Or would they have turned the spymaster into their own spy? Changing who he was fundamentally, until whoever remained behind was unrecognisable and wrong?

Whichever it was, whatever plan they’d had for Soundwave, both options were utterly disgusting.

Which is why Ravage felt that a slow end was deserved to whomever could do something so immoral.

Unfortunately, he was certain that it was not going to be that simple, after all, as Soundwave had said earlier, it was strange that the surgeon was even still alive. Overlord may have been rather practiced in finding new and demented ways of inflicting pain, but he was not known for his restraint.

As Ravage drew closer, his audials flicked as he realised that he was picking up on some sound carrying on a quiet echo within the vents. He paused, focusing on trying to better listen to whatever that noise was, and he perked up as he registered it as a voice.

He continued on closer, listening as that sound became louder, and it didn’t take long for him to become certain that it was not a voice he’d heard before.

And then, as drew even nearer, it started to become very obvious that what he was hearing was screaming.

After his earlier thoughts, he really should have been gleeful at the implication. Instead, all he merely felt was a bitter-sweet delight, and he continued to crawl on, wanting a visual confirmation before he reported back to Soundwave.

He started to become more aware of other noises though as he continued, ones that previously had been hidden under the sound of the louder screaming. There was an almost rhythmic metallic clanking that was ringing out, and Ravage found himself wondering what Overlord was actually doing to hurt this surgeon. Did he have some kind of hammer? Perhaps he was breaking the Autobot’s digits one by one. It would make sense, of course, to render the surgeon useless and weak, unable to use those blasted needles of his. But it just didn’t... sound right. And, unless he was breaking each digit more than once, too many bangs had already sounded out.

Ravage frowned, and he slowed his pace as he became certain he was finally by the room that Overlord and his prisoner were. The last thing he wanted was for Overlord to hear him and discover Soundwave’s distrust. He was getting close to a vent opening, but just before he could reach it he became aware of another noise amongst the others. Something that sounded wet.

Energon? He questioned internally, his movements pausing instinctively in his puzzlement.

Surely the surgeon must be bleeding. Were his digits so crushed that all that was left was shattered stumps and ruptured fuel lines?

He was still thinking it over when suddenly he heard Overlord’s voice.

“You poor little thing,” the triple changer teased, “is it too much?”

His words were followed up with a metallic clang that was louder than the others, which was followed up with a scream that rang out in kind.

Ravage’s curiosity got the better of him then, and he finally pressed on those extra few steps that were required to bring him to the vent grate, peering into the triple changer’s quarters.  

And Ravage froze at the sight that awaited him.

He caught sight of Overlord very quickly, of course, the behemoth was simply too large to miss, perched upon his sizable berth near the centre of the spacious room. But it took a second longer for the location of the surgeon to become obvious, given the way he was mostly obscured by Overlord’s huge frame. Ravage was only able to deduce where the Autobot was as he saw Overlord’s hips buck forwards, an action that turned out to be the cause of both the metallic clang and the screaming, as both immediately sounded out in response to the behemoth’s movement. And Ravage was just able to see a pair of slender arms flail up, servos gripping at Overlord’s torso as the triple charger thrust his hips forwards again, forcing another high keen out of the bot underneath him.

Ravage scowled as the gravity of the situation before him truly began to sink in.

He knew Overlord was depraved, but fragging an Autobot prisoner? That was just too much.

“I really thought you’d start getting used to this by now,” Ravage then heard Overlord chuckle out, cooing at the surgeon with such a smug sweetness, “but you always scream like it’s your first time.”

Ravage had to roll his optics had that, Overlord really was so full of himself.

Well, someone who certainly full of him at the moment.

At that, the Autobot sounded as though he was struggling to manage a response through his excessive shrieking. His first attempts at words trailed off into moans. His second attempts were entirely unintelligible with the way they came out stuttered and shaking. By his third attempt it seemed that he had entirely forgotten what he was trying to say, too distracted by however it felt to be getting pounding into like that.

Overlord, however, seemed entirely unfazed with ultimately being ignored, in fact, the lack of a response just had him laughing out breathlessly.

“How cute,” he purred out, in a way that it was hard to tell if it was meant to be mocking or endeared.

Whichever it was, Ravage had certainly seen enough.

He backed away from the grating, and he began to make his way back through the vents.

No matter how far away he got, he swore he could still hear that damn screaming echoing on and on, even when he knew he had reasonably gotten out of range of the sound. Ravage shuddered in disgust, this was not something he was going to easily forget, and how ironic was it that the closest being who could technically help him erase this terrible memory was the one whose voice he wanted wiped from his thoughts.

By the time he finally returned to Soundwave his mood had not lifted in the slightest, and Ravage wondered if it was his expression or his thoughts that had the cassette player tensing with concern.

“What did you learn?” the taller bot asked hurriedly, “is Overlord planning something?”

Ravage shook his helm.

“Oh, trust me,” he scowled, “you don’t need to worry, Overlord has a very specific purpose for that souvenir of his.”

Ravage could see a hint of confusion in Soundwave’s visor, and that ever-so-slight way that the cassette player tilted his helm made it all too clear what he was attempting to do.

“Don’t,” Ravage said sternly, “No, really, you do not want to hear it.”

Thankfully, Soundwave had trust in his judgements, and Ravage did not have to live with the regret of inflicting such a mortifying memory on someone he cared so deeply for.

He did, however, ask that any future reconnaissance on Overlord be handled by someone else. He did not want to risk seeing that again.

-

Trepan vented out exhaustedly, his intake hanging ajar with every heavy release of hot air, his optics held shut to try quell a dizzying grogginess. He barely registered the sound of Overlord moving above him, until suddenly he heard the Decepticon order him to “drink,” and Trepan peered up to see a cube being held out for him.

He scoffed as he shakily grabbed it.

“D-do we-” Trepan started, only to frown and pause, trying to reset his vocaliser and alleviate some of that static lacing his voice, “Do we have to do that e-every time you happen to run into your damn co-worker?” he croaked.

Overlord rolled his optics at that.

“It’s for your benefit,” he reminded him, grabbing himself a cube now from the berthside table, “I'm limited in how well I can hide my thoughts from him, I know he is getting suspicious.”

Trepan sipped weakly at his energon as Overlord spoke, pausing only so he could respond.

“And this helps me how?” Trepan huffed bitterly, even though they had discussed this before.

Overlord first gulped down a decent amount from his own cube before he bothered to answer.

“Better for him to think you’re a spike-sleeve rather than my teacher,” he answered bluntly, “Eventually he’ll send one of his spies to see what we are up to -a desire I’m sure is exacerbated every time he sees me and cannot fully read me- and I doubt they’ll come back if they think all they'll witness is an Autobot getting his valve pounded.”

Trepan scowled at the crass language, and suddenly he felt he didn’t have much of an appetite.

“I still don’t like that the plan is for me to be seen like that,” he hissed, trying weakly to reach out and put his cube back on the table.

Overlord shrugged.

“Would you rather be dead?” he asked, and then he noticed Trepan trying to put the cube down, and so reached out to block the action with his servo, “I said drink,” he insisted again.

It was Trepan’s turn to roll his optics then, but he obeyed none-the-less, even if all he did was continue to sip at it slowly.

“I suppose not,” he huffed out his answer, “but that doesn’t make it any less humiliating.”

Overlord gave a hum of acknowledgement to the complaint as he gulped down the rest of his energon, and then Trepan could see those stupidly large lips of his twisting into a grin.

“You didn’t seem mind when I had my spike in you,” the Decepticon reminded him, “you certainly didn’t object then.

Trepan’s scowl deepened at that.

“How the hell am I even supposed to when I can barely get a word out?” he argued, “You're so ridiculously big, I can barely even think.”

Overlord’s grin simply widened at that, and Trepan cursed inwardly.

Of course the brute would take that as a compliment.

“Urgh, you’re unbearable,” Trepan muttered, impatiently chugging the rest of his energon and finally putting the cube down now that Overlord was no longer blocking him, “If there is any Decepticons currently in the walls they might as well just shoot me now.”

Overlord laughed at that, but Trepan barely got the chance to respond to the mocking noise before suddenly Overlord was grabbing him, very easily pulling the smaller bot to be perched upon his hips.

“Hmm, you do bring up a good point though,” Overlord smirked, pulling Trepan against his frame as his other servo moved down to trail over a slender thigh, “they could be coming now. We better have something to show them.”

Trepan scowled up at the taller bot.

“What? Again?” he hissed.

Though, his scowl disappeared far quicker than he would have liked, as those fingers on his thigh moved up to instead stroke over his folds, pushing up inside him in an easy movement, slicked by the copious load of transfluid that Overlord had just spilled inside him. Trepan let out a broken vent as his optics rolled back, his overstimulated nodes reacting far too quickly to the touch.

“You’ve already refuelled,” Overlord purred, “surely you’re ready for another round.”

Ah, Trepan thought bitterly. Of course Overlord’s insistence on finishing that cube had held ulterior motives.

He didn’t manage a response fast enough, however, before those blunt digits were pressing harshly against a deeper interior node, causing Trepan’s frame to shudder heavily as he keened out. Already, he could feel a heat beginning to build within him, one which caused his valve to start dripping with its own slick, lubricants seeping into a mess concoction with the transfluids within him.

Damn it, he could feel his hips rocking instinctively into the touches, small movements that he knew Overlord was all too aware of.

Why was it so easy to get swept away like this?

“I’ve- I’ve already been loosened enough,” is what he found himself protesting, the words just slipping out involuntarily, “You don’t... You don’t need to use your servo.”

And it was so annoying how Overlord only ever listened to him when he was telling the brute exactly what he wanted to hear. For the Decepticon was more than happy to obey him then, pulling his digits out and very eagerly replacing them with his spike, the blunt head pushing in so deeply in one smooth motion, stretching Trepan’s valve obscenely around its girth.

Trepan once again was already finding himself struggling to think, his processor feeling so distant as pleasure wracked up him in a violent surge. It felt like every node within was fizzing and burning from the sheer weight against them, making his frame arch and writhe from the flurry of charge sparkling throughout him. He was anchored only by Overlord’s hold on him, who held him tightly as he kept alternating between keeping him braced as he rocked up into him, or pulling him down sharply to impale him further on his spike. Every movement made that pleasure explode further inside him, and it was getting harder to remember why he had even protested this in the first place. As it was now, all he could do was scream the as Decepticon used him, barely able to register the words whenever Overlord purred out to praise or tease him. He was getting closer and closer to another climax, the pleasure encroaching heavily and severely as that spike continued to batter against his ceiling node.

It was so much, it was too much, and Trepan would never admit that he loved every second of it.

When his next overload did finally claim him the intenseness of it was nearly enough to render him unconscious. He was limp in Overlord’s grip as the Decepticon continued to chase his own pleasure within his body, whining as each thrust stimulated overwhelmed and sizzling nodes. He welcomed it when Overlord finally finished, flooding his insides further with another load of transfluids.

He was coaxed into closing up his panel then, and Trepan was simply too tired to even have the desire to argue against it.

The next few moments passed in a blur, and the next thing Trepan was aware of was him lying upon Overlord on their berth. Overlord said something to him, but Trepan was still too dizzy to really pay it any mind.

All he could really think about, as he drifted off into recharge, was how he hoped that this would continue, even if Overlord did somehow find out that Soundwave’s spies had already been here.

He just didn’t want this to stop...

But, of course, he would never admit that.