#jazz4thetorture

[badspeeder]

Bloodplay

go away | no | rather not | I dunno | I guess | sure | yes | FUCK yes | oh god you don’t even know | right here, right now

Piits, you have no idea how amusing it is to curl your digits into the internal workings of a mech and feel that energon gushing between them. Hnnh, it’s so good of a feeling.

[badspeeder]

Piquerism

go away | no | rather not | I dunno | I guess | sure | yes | FUCK yes | oh god you don’t even know | right here, right now

Technically, I can’t pierce skin because I won’t be playing these games with humans. However, I like the idea of slowly pushing sharp tools into a bot writing underneath me. Hmn, in fact, it’s appetizing just thinking about it…

My focus wouldn’t be what the norm is, however. I prefer the abdominal plating as a target.

[emperorofdestruction]

Megatron and Jazz meet

((Continued from here, because reblogging from the ask was just really hurting my eyes))

jazz4thetorture:

-

Jazz rose slowly, spinal strut stiff as a board as hidden optics narrowed even further on the others frame. He had scouted the area before showing up before this Megatron, and he was only mildly impressed. He had heard the ‘Allspark destroyed’ line before, and been on many versions of Cybertron in his missions and for all his battles.

The mention of Optimus, and being his best friend, was one that had not come up in his talks with any of his alternates, so to hear it from this Megatron was a surprise that he flicked a doorwing for, shifting his weight lightly.

"I was brought into the war by my old life crashing around my audios, not that I didnt see the pillars crumbling long before I became aware of my talents." He said, shrugging. He wasnt willing to spill all of his secrets to the one before him, not until he proved himself worthy. And that, to Jazz, would take a very, very long time.

"I read a few of your speeches, Megatron. Now thats real talent." He said with a soft grin as he shifted his stance again.

"Optimus was nothing more to me then a commander thrust into a war he didnt want to fight." He said, leaving the part out where he was brought in by Ratchet swooping in and scooping him up from the wreckage of his old, cushy life on the outer edge of Praxis. 

Megatron chuckles. “So my speeches impress you. I am glad to hear it. As I said, I hope to win the sparks and minds of those still lost. And the esteem of those of like mind who are not.

He flicks a claw. “But is it simply my ‘talent’ that impresses you… or an understanding of the things I have to say?”

They seemed to resonate especially with Sunstreaker. Sideswipe he wasn’t as certain about, and this Jazz he doesn’t quite understand just yet.

Which, it seems, is something Jazz wants. 

Megatron vents a huff of irritation, but he really doesn’t mind. Eons of war have taught him patience, and his recent victory has taught him that that patience is worthwhile. He lapses once again into silence, regarding Jazz with bright, slitted optics.

They widen hearing how readily this Jazz dismisses Optimus. He can’t tell yet whether Jazz is simply being evasive, or whether Jazz is very different from the mech he once knew.

But what is quite clear to him is that whatever function Orion Pax or Optimus Prime served in the life of his own Jazz, the mechs this Jazz is closely connected to are the twins.

It still intrigues him. The only connection he has that would be as close is the bond thrumming through his spark. And that came about thanks to Starscream’s usual impetuous foolishness anyway, whatever their later acceptance of it might imply.

"A war he didn’t want to fight," Megatron presses. "And you fought it for him, at least in the beginning. Why? You say your life fell apart around you. Because of the war, I assume. I take it you are telling me that you found a place among the Autobots simply because you had nowhere else to go?"

His gaze is fixed and steady now. He does not know what Jazz isn’t telling him, but so curt an answer suggests there is more to things than what little he is offering.

[emperorofdestruction]

"I heard you wanted to see me?" Jazz asked, looming out of the darkness, his red visor dim and his wings tucked. His red and black paint job flashed lightly in the dark light as the Decepticon symbol glowed for a moment. Jazz flashed a razorbalde grin at the other before nodding his helm in respect. This is a Megatron, after all. Even if it isnt his Megatron.

Megatron smiles, watching the mech materialize soundlessly from the darkness. The paint job is unfamiliar and even the frame type looks strange. But he would know that glowing visor anywhere, whether blue or red.

And there is only one mech he called for — and only one mech who could manage to hide from him.

"Jazz," he says, sharp amusement lacing his voice. "I bid you welcome."

He stretches out a claw, indicating their surroundings: a vast and empty hall, its walls a shimmering metal shaped by no living hand. Cybertron reborn, by the power of the Omega Lock.

"Yes, I did wish to… make your acquaintance. I heard about you from your Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, and I was… quite curious to find out more about the three of you.

"Especially you. The Jazz of my own universe would never wear the mark you bear. He was deeply devoted to his friend Orion Pax from the beginning, and as loyal to Optimus Prime after.

"And yet, from what the twins tell me of you, somehow I find it — unsurprising to see you here, now, as you are."

"Sometimes there are things hidden in the spark that merely wait to be uncovered."

His optics flicker. He has a reason for asking, of course, and it’s more than idle curiosity. But this mech, if he is anything like the counterpart Megatron knows, is cunning and keen-witted. He has no reason to lay bare his intentions when they’ve barely begun their conversation.

[torquethemudpuppy]

One Night Stand ((Closed with Jazz4thetorture))

It'd started off as him trying to do the right thing. He'd helped the other bot, and somehow, they'd gotten on the discussion of rewards... And thus, Torque had found himself leading Jazz back to his quarters.