Title: Movieverse Drabbles

Title: Movie Drabbles
Author: dreamerchaos
Rating: Slash. Mature. Plug-n-play
Pairing: SoundwavexPerceptor
Disclaimer: Transformers is owned by Hasbro. Not mine, sadly.
Summary: Based off the characters from TF2007 ‘Revenge of the Fallen’. I'll note which movie is with which drabbles. This pair is based off TF2. Beware of possible Spoilers.

SoundwavexPerceptor (TF2)
Bonds
*Warning: Tentacles


The Decepticon did not anticipate stumbling across a lone Autobot while upon his scans of various orbiting planets in search of Megatron.

He settled upon the small dust ball of a planet, easily circumventing the small scientist’s perimeter scanners, the delicately red and cobalt plated Autobot scrounging through piles of debris, the remains of his small shuttle and instruments that had suffered a hard landing when breaking through the planet’s heavy atmosphere.

It is too easy to swoop upon the hapless mech. The microscope’s vocoder squealing in alarm, small hands clawing and beating at his face and protruding mandible, legs flailing and snapping against his thicker torso as he is bore to the rough ground.

Soundwave allows a wave of humor to trickle past his denta. Amused by the Autobot’s audacity: Thinking that he could possibly offer forth some semblance of positive resistance.

He is eager to investigate this trembling, feisty creature.

The Autobot wails in surprise, then terror, as the Decepticon’s tentacles slither forth from between his plating. The red and cobalt microscope bucking and twitching feebly beneath the hitching, probing tentacles prodding at his transformation seams. Hands weakly beating against his larger chassis, cries muffled when one of Soundwave’s tentacles smoothly slides between his metal lips, muffling his prey’s whimpers.

Soundwave’s vocoder ripples with a satisfied growl, curled over the still resisting mech, taloned hands clenching upon the microscope’s hands, pinning them beside the mech’s helm. The Autobot arching, jerking as the thicker tentacles pierce and weave in between the larger seams of his sides, forcing his thighs to spread wide, smaller tentacles tickling and pushing into the smaller caves of his hip.

Soundwave snarls in a mixture of pleasure and pain when the Autobot harshly bites down on the tentacle slithering down the innards of his throat, coughing and hacking when the Decepticon tears the appendage free, leaving a wash of lubricant and energon from the torn metal, savaged by the Autobot’s denta. Twisting around to stumble onto his hands and knees, the microscope tries to feebly crawl away, the tentacles still piercing him, anchoring the mech while he drags grooves into the dirt when he is unperturbedly dragged back towards his assailant.

“Do Not Resist.” Soundwave pulls the mech into his embrace, the Autobot’s sobbing for his compatriots while the Decepticon binds their distinct forms tighter, together welded by the pulsing, seething mass of tentacles, the tips adhering into the microscope’s systems and components, intimately familiarizing the Decepticon with the Autobot’s processor and personality matrix, “This Connection Will Not Be Severed.”


Soundwave/Perceptor (TF2)
Parasite


Perceptor joins his Autobot brothers on the small, crystal blue and green planet. Hailing Optimus Prime and the others when he steps out of the humans’ aerial travel unit, the ‘carrier jet’, as they call it. Greeting allies when he steps onto base.

Optimus Prime, after allowing the scientist to reaffirm his bonds with Ratchet and the others, quietly seeks Perceptor’s attention, “Perceptor, may I speak with you in private?”

The scientist’s fuel tank churn, but he swallows his nervousness. Half knowing and dreading what is to come.

Away from the prying eyes of the small humans and the sensitive audios of their fellow Cybertronians, Optimus gently guides the microscope to sit upon a boulder, while the Prime bows before him, blue optics firmly assessing the mech seated before him, “You are unwell.”

It is not a question.

“I…had an encounter with a Decepticon, before receiving your hail for your soldiers to rendezvous on this planet.”

“…and?”

Perceptor locks his hands together, curling the quaking ball upon his lap, “And…he…Soundwave..” He turns his helm away in shame.

“Stop!” He can not continue this charade of intimacy, time and again the mech is too cruel to once again force his way into the Autobot’s systems. Tentacles coiled and weaving underneath his plating.

Soundwave groans, hunched over the smaller mech. Large taloned hands curled over the microscope’s shoulders and helm as, once again, he invades the smaller mech. Tentacles eagerly dipping in and interlocking around his joints, cables, and components.

The Decepticon is enraptured ¯ almost driven to madness ¯ by the frame curled against his. The Autobot a strangely perfect fit, in sync with his internal systems, a peculiar sensation, like a warm cocoon that enwraps them both.

Perceptor loses track of the orns he is forced to endure the Decepticon’s invasive touches, soon too tired to offer more than a pathetic show of resistance. Usually falling upon the fail-safe technique of lying back and allowing the Decepticon his pleasure until the mech overloads, tentacles flexing deeper, intertwining further and locking the two mechs together. A period of time that the microscope despises even more than the act of interface, since the Decepticon refuses to relinquish the Autobot, even while within recharge, large arms and many tentacles curled possessively around him.

“I’m infected.” Perceptor clutches a hand upon the lower chamber of his chassis. Shuddering in disgust, “Soundwave…He is obsessed. So much so that he planted one of his creations inside of me.” He shoulders rattle as he laughs sharply with broken humor, “He planted a parasite inside of me. He said I was so perfect. I could bear his offspring with no ill harm. He was so proud. Like he had accomplished some sort of great glory. It made me sick when he would trace his talons over my chamber, listening to the sound of his creation rattling underneath my plating.”

The Prime rests his hand upon the mech’s trembling shoulder, “We will speak to Ratchet,” The large Autobot leader whispers to sooth the microscope of his pain and furious indignation, “I am certain Ratchet can assist in removing this…whatever is inside of you.”

Perceptor allows the Prime to guide him onto his pedes, curling against the warm safety of the Autobot’s chassis, “It won’t stop him.” The scientist whispers, “Even if you cut away the infection, Soundwave will still remain its source. He’s obsessed. I’ve already bore two parasites before now, and he carries them within the safety of his chassis. Any procedure or surgery won’t be enough to thwart him.”

“We will see.” Optimus Prime refuses to surrender so easily, escorting the crestfallen scientist as he walks them towards Ratchet’s medical ward, “Let us concern ourselves with the most immediate concern. Then leave Soundwave to me.”