Suffitus Prime

 Raylin thought for a moment, “Skin the beasts.” Then toss then off to Val so he can do whatever he’d like, “Perhaps practice more magic…”

  If there was any discomfort from the silence that followed, she didn’t make it known. Walking quietly would have been no problem, though she slowed, eyes drawn to something. A splash of colour filled the grass far away, trees filled with beautiful leaves and surrounded by what looked like large mushrooms, nearly the same size as just as if not more colourful. She would have stopped to stare.

“Yes. Magic does seem like a good idea.”

  She turned to Suffitus then, looking at the small beast he held, “Would you plan to help Vall with this? Perhaps help Knightstryk?” She chuckles with her questions, knowing the likely answer of neither. But Knightstryk was one of his kind, living metal.

“We-Well, I uh..I could maybe help skin the beasts too, if you’d like.” Suffitus replied once again. He had little experience with hunting organic animals, let alone dressing them, but it couldn’t hurt to be chivalrous, right? 

He was about to interject again before his optic caught onto Raylin’s faltering attention. Immediately changing his focus to look in her direction, it wasn’t long before the young Prime noticed the mushrooms too. Indeed, they were quite pretty. not a lot of fungi grew on Cybertron, but from what little he had seen prior, the colors on this were on a whole other level of captivating. 

Deadlock sighs, “Currently? Your own personal med bay.”

  He made his strides quick, kneeling down to pick up the shards of the glass. Brief does he make it, quick again when he disposes of the pieces. Though, upon return he does not settle back against the wall, he instead goes to Suffitus, looking over the replaced armour and decently fixed parts. Absently his digits trace over a less clean weld, but they don’t linger long.

“I think you’ll be good to go soon. Though thanks to the trouble, it means a different arrangement. Not your concern really. Doubt you’d wanna go back to that room anyway.”

  Deadlock would, if only to be further from Turmoil, though as Second in Command, he really cannot expect much else. Not when they need to reign in and expand some of their security.

“How do you feel?”

.

Suffitus’ optic followed Deadlock just as closely as his “master” patrolled around the room. Med bay? Primus, he really got fragged up, didn’t he? He tensed up a bit out of reflex when Deadlock loomed over him, briefly wishing he could move his currently attached arm to protect himself for whatever the Con had planned. When he felt those digits run over a weld on his bare chest, he gasped sharply from the cold touch, pain shooting through his frame from touching the horrible wound. 

“Ngh...L-Like...Like about as slag as a guy who just got torn apart and raped in front of a crowd can feel...” He wheezed, accidentally coughing up more energon onto Deadlock’s chest. “I’ve...frag...never taken a beating this bad before...”

How did this happen? He was a fragging Prime and he lost to...to a big gladiator? What was going on...?

Taking a dagger from her boot, Ray bounded to the beast she had killed. Sinking her blade in the beast where her arrow had struck. She pulled it free, replacing the arrow on her quiver. The blood dripped on her leg, splattering in a small puddle now that there was nothing to keep it in place. The smell of iron hit her, drawing her in as she rose, beast in hand by it’s collar.

Bow slung over her shoulder, Raylin turned to Suffitus. “You were quick…” she looked over the tall grass, “Val will want us back soon.”

The other beast scattered beneath the blades, hidden were it not for the rustling. Two was enough, one for each organic or half organic. Knightstryk wasn’t going to touch them, and Ray wouldn’t think of Suffitus as bold enough to try.

“I take that you can carry it on your own.”

Raylin walks off as she speaks, not looking back as she drags the pitiful creature by her side.

“Of course I was!” Suffitus replied with a cheeky grin, rubbing the back of his helm playfully. “I told you I wouldn’t mess it up, didn’t I?”

Twirling the energon dagger in his servo idly, he was about to make another remark before he heard Raylin start to walk back. 

“O-Oh, uh...yeah, sure.” the young Prime said as he picked up the second beast and slung it over his shoulder effortlessly, trying his best to catch up to her. 

There was an awkward silence between the two of them as they walked back for the most part. She nearly opened up to Suffitus last time they were together...maybe he could try again?

A few more words had pased between Deadlock and the medic, about repairs and certain fixes that wouldn’t be the easiest. Deadlock approved almost all of them, stomring out of the room once he was fed up with explaining himself. It didn’t matter. His orders were almost as absolute as Turmoil’s.

In the end, the medic completed his task without fail, restoring the broken functions and missing armour plates that were lost in the battle. He fixed every he found, aside from the one wound among the protoflesh he couldn’t fix. It would scar along the material no doubt. The armour was remade almost the same, the colours not a perfect match to what they had been, but close. And after the day cycle had concluded, night brought upon the base, he was done.

Suffitus was left to rest and come to when he rebooted on his own.

Soon after he was left, Deadlock returned to the room. He held a cube of energon, leaving it to rest beside Suffitus as he found the closest wall to lean on. And he waited.

An hour had passed after Suffitus had had his repairs finished. His limbs were restored, but they felt extremely sore, and not his own. He felt like he had gone five rounds in the pit with Megatron himself, to be honest. 

How was he even alive?

Tilting his helm to the side, swollen optic opening barely, he saw Deadlock, and the cube of energon he had left by the young Prime’s side. Carefully, he looked around the rest of the room before trying to pick up the cube, but his weak body made the cube slip out of his servo and hit the floor, causing him to groan in frustration.

“It’s a weak group then..”

Pressed down on the blades of grass, she takes a better look. Dark fur of purple floods her eyes, slim forms roaming and resting among the small patch they had since claimed as their own. They were peaceful. Far from the Predators she had seen, they were not meant for a long survival.

Drawing her bow taught, Raylin takes aim. A smaller one lingers in her crosshairs, resting still as it watches to others. Unassuming, it cannot defend or run.

“Make haste when I fire. They will scatter quickly…”

Steadying her breath, she leans back. Arms still and she takes in the creature, feeling a tinge of pain up her chest as she invisions her actions. No preperation will every be enough.

Exhaling, she fires her bow.

Suffitus watches the Zaterian aim the primitive weapon closely, optic unable to avoid staring over her toned, athletic form as she drew it back. He couldn’t help but find how the organic’s body flexed involuntarily as she drew back the bow intriguing...and a little bit arousing....

Shaking his helm of the thought, he listened closely to Raylin’s words, making sure he followed her instructions to a tee. 

“I‘ll make sure they don’t get away.” the young Prime nodded as he prepared his own energon dagger, ready to dash off after the others that were sure to scatter.

As the arrow struck the closest beast by the neck, falling dead quickly, the others scattered quickly. Suffitus darted after them with incredible speed, the blade he held sinking into their flesh easily and falling down even easier. The beasts’ crimson blood stained his servos and blade. He grimaced a bit at the sight, trying to wipe the fluids off on his thighs. 

Shouting came from the hall, faint at first but it grows like a crescendo until it stops with a sudden ’thwack’. Silence reclaims the space, only broken up by the sound of a door and now one set of steps. The argument had ended there.

Deadlock enters the sterile room, looking at the walls as if their colour offended him. Or maybe the room did, for the air it held now was indeed grim. He refused to look at Suffitus as he walked past, optics focused on the wall past him as he looked past the small area for the medic that called for him. He found them cleaning tools.

A hushed conversation ensues, interupted only by Deadlock’s fist hitting the wall nearly halfway through. He snarls something, causing the medic to warily look at Suffitus then back. He gestures vaguely, leading Deadlock over to Suffitus as he finishes explaining all the repairs he’ll need to do.

“… It will be a lot to do.”

“Just repair him already.”

“But Commander-”

“Did I not. Make. Myself. Clear,” he spoke it like a statement, holding his tone alone the line of infuriated and frustrated.

“.. of course sir.” Carefully, under the careful watch of a commanding officer, the medic started with all he could; a low sedative- Any higher would risk the autobot’s spark- in a fairly untouched place, and then busied himself with fetching the rest of the tools he’d need.

Suffitus could barely keep track of the conversation going on, let alone his other surroundings as he faded in and out of consciousness from the massive pain that wracked his body. His optic caught the tiniest glance of Deadlock as he entered the room, finally noticing the medic that had been in the room with him as well. 

The young Prime couldn’t understand what the two Decepticons were arguing about, but whatever it was, the punch that Deadlock gave to the wall was apparent enough of a sign that told the conversation turned rather aggressive...

Deadlock could not help him now. For once he wanted to, even knowing it would be stupid to try when this was the most ’entertained’ he’d always seen his fellow cons. Turmoil had noticed his unease, slithering a large hand to rest upon the small mech’s thigh. The gesture was small, but it ate up any temptations of helping or leaving all together.

Suffitus, at least, would not have to suffer the brute much longer.

Their pace had quickened to a desperate level, turning to short shallow thrusts that became more clumsy each passing second. It wasn’t long before he clamped down on the Prime’s shoulder, muffling the howl that escaped his processor as release came for him. Energon filled his mouth, wires and cabling bit through. Transfluid filled the Prime’s valve. His claws dug deeply into the Prime’s side, indenting, dripping blood from the wounds. The champion did not pull out until he was done.

Denta came to the Prime’s chest, riping at metal until protoflesh was exposed, then tearing through that. He bit down until all he tasted was energon, till the colourful blue filled his mouth. There’d be no removing the carnage he left, from both denta and claw.

Satiated was he finally with his victory.

Paneling clicked closed, the large mech leaning back on his knees. A smug adorned his features, unremovable.

He chuckles, “Thanks for the bonus. Hope to do it again.” If they fought again, he means. There was no certainty, not in his processor nor the next really.

By the time the champion had finished with Suffitus, he was a shell of the powerful Prime that came into the fight; crying mercy, begging for the torture to end as his frame was wrecked, torn asunder, and every horrid bit in between. 

His whole body was numb by the time he felt that hot, warm fluid fill his valve, his HUD was repeatedly glitching, several internal and external systems failing at the same time. He couldn’t stop the pain that shot through his system when the champion bit so hard into his shoulder. By the time he pulled free, Suffitus’ only other arm had lazily snapped off his torso, several connecting wires severed. 

Unable to fight back at all now, he could only let out weak, staticy cries as his chest was torn open next, The Matrix exposed to the entire crowd as blue energon coated his now naked frame. 

The Prime should’ve been dead already. His body was shutting down, the light of his spark getting dimmer and dimmer, feeling his optic power down as the last thing he saw was the smug grin on the gladiator’s face, ashamed that his time as Prime came to such a dishonorable, and brutal end. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Or so he thought. 

An unknown amount of time had passed since his fight. Looking up through his cracked, swollen optic, Suffitus could see a blinding blue light rain down from above him. The cold metal on his bare back proved he was on a medical slab. He could still taste horrible tastes on his glossa as well; energon, coolant...transfluids...It all covered his naked frame. 

Low to the ground, the Zaterian crept forward, using organic shrubbery and tall grass to his her body. It was habit, yes, but a good one to keep. Bow kept to the side, she remained quiet, listening, ears twitching with the noise like a cat’s. She paused, holding up a hand to tell Suffitus to still.

“Tell me,” she started hush, “what your eyes see up ahead?”

Dark bleed through the grass, in slits of shapes of roamings beasts. Slowly, they moved, mowing down the grass with their teeth. A large beast of burden? A creature of prey? Easily she could tell, but what would help would that be if she told him? He’d already almost walked up to prey once before..

“How many?”

The young Prime crouched in the bushes beside her, optic zooming in through the slits in the grass to look on ahead. His lack of one optic meant his field of vision was a bit narrowed, but nearly a decade or so of living with only one has made him used to it. His thermal readings picked up on multiple heat signatures through the brush. 

“I see...I see a few uh...beasts up ahead. Look kinda like turbofoxes.” He told her as he kept staring, his optic enhancing the image just a bit as he took an energon dagger out of his subspace. Val had disabled all of his built-in weapons as a security measure, so he was given more traditional ones to make due with. 

The champion looked over Suffitus with a strange gaze, perhaps of annoyance, but it never ventured far from his face. Their servo, retreeted, coated in a thin layer of energon now. He didn’t care to clean them as he took hold of Suffitus’ hip, lining up his. He waited after, like it was the last chance of repreave he was giving, or like a warning for what was to come. He didn’t wait for long.

“Then I win.”

With no further preperation or warning, the champion thrusted his spike into the Prime’s valve. The tip at first, barely pressing in, but when he did it again it went much further, finding only the resistance of blood. It wasn’t long before he had fit all he could, and like of mercy, he waited for the warmth of his deed to loosen and become more pleasurable for himself.

The shouts of the obcene and horrible things the crowd wanted to see never stopped, and the mecha that were close enough to nearly jump were held off by the lone fact that they would be pummeled by the champion.

His servo left Suffitus’ throat, joints sparking and groaning their protest as the limb held up the upper most portion of the large mech’s frame. It shook and threatened inactivity again, but for now it held, even as the mech became increasingly impatient. He rutted, leaving no further time for adjustment as he sought out his own pleasure.

.

Suffitus knew what was coming. He was wished he could do something to stop it, but he couldn’t. He wanted to play the brave, defiant hero? Well, this is what was gonna happen to him. 

He tried to brace himself for the pain that he was sure to start feeling, but nothing could prepare him for the absolute torture that was the champion’s spike burrowing inside his valve. His optic shot open as much as the swollen sensor would, his mouth unable to hold back the loud cry of pain that begged to escape. 

Desperate, the young Prime thrashed as much as he could to escape the champ, his valve getting more torn with each thrust delivered to him. He looked up at the crowds almost pleadingly, looking for anyone, anyone who could possibly help him. 

The champion snarled, knuckles connecting with Suffitus’ face no quicker than he had bit down. The same hand violently grabs Suffitus’ face, squeezing the metal together to free now bleeding digits. He looks over his digits briefly, sneering, then ripping off an almost completely severed digit.

“Your loss, Mech.”