#forced bonding

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. When you noticed how much time had passed since your life had been brutalized and your loved ones torn from your heart, you had already lost your grasp on reality.

Your alpha's insatiable need for control and his raging jealousy had damned you to stay within the ivory walls of the Figarland manor. Where you spent your days in endless monotony. Everything, from your strict daily routine enforced by the servants who had been instructed by Garling to the cameras watching your every move, was designed to slowly chip away at your sanity and break you.

Your body had surrendered, entirely against your will, you could only fight so long before your instincts took over. Garling had taken pride in claiming an unwilling Omega, what was seen as a crime in the world below the Red Line, was an honor in the holy land.

Grateful, that's what he wanted you to be.

"For what?" You had asked him and received a backhanded strike to your face in reply.

Your only grace, the one thing that kept you from tying the rope and escaping the prison of your own flesh, was the small, red-haired pup Garling had thrusted upon you. You knew it was all part of his cruel plan to turn you into his perfect mate, it was revolting to think that he saw his own son as just another means to an end.

And yet, you loved him. You cared for Shamrock as if he was your own. In the beginning you had been clumsy and unsure how to take care of someone so small and vulnerable, but with the help of a few nurses, you grew into your role as a mother.

Not to appease your captor, but to fulfill your promise that you would free yourself and Shamrock from the monster that was his father.

After waking up one morning you felt too restless to stay within the comfort of your bed and got up much earlier than usual. Little Shamrock was already rolling around in his bassinet, begging you to pick him up. You scooped the bundle of joy into your arms and he squealed with delight. In the past months he had turned from a quiet baby who hardly made a sound into quite the talkative boy. You suspected it had all been Garling’s fault, you couldn’t imagine that he had taken good care of the pup.

With the baby in your arms, you looked down at the bed and wondered what bothered you about it so deeply. It couldn’t be your Alpha's stench. Unfortunately the scent had become both an aphrodisiac and tranquilizer to you, either helping you to start your heat or putting you to rest when Garling desired it. Nature was cruel and unjust.

No, it had to be something else. Maybe the insultingly bad mixture of colors? You strongly suspected Garling was colorblind purely based on the fact that he seemed to love throwing red, purples and yellows together without any rhyme or reason.

Then it hit you — you didn’t want a bed to sleep in, you wanted a nest.

"Hey Shammy, how about we figure out how to build a nest, hm? Sound good?" You cooed at the boy and he nodded.

You told yourself that he could understand you, or at least, you hoped he could. He was your only other voice to speak to in your solitude, all slaves had been threatened not to entertain you with needless conversations.

With a few well-practiced moves you tied a scarf around your chest so you could carry the pup on your back. Shamrock loved being at your side, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him behind in his little bed all day.

Honestly, you didn’t have the slightest clue on how to build a nest. You had heard about it, sure, you had read books and paid attention in biology class, but you had never actually done it yourself. After walking up and down in front of the bed, you decided it was best to start with some nesting material.

Determined to build Shamrock his first proper nest, you walked out of the bedroom, ignoring the servants who tried to drag you downstairs for breakfast.

"I wish to be left alone, I'm not hungry," you dismissed them.

"But Lady Figarland, please, your Master will be very upset if you haven’t eaten by the time he returns," a maid reminded you.

"Then let him be mad, I'll take the blame," you huffed and headed straight for the many guest bedrooms located in the west wing.

You gathered every duvet, silken pillow and exotic fur you could find. Rummaging through the many cupboards and wardrobes, driven purely by your instincts you began to toss anything unsuitable aside. It was as if a demon had possessed you with secret knowledge that was always there within you, hidden away until you had been forced to become a mate.

For better or for worse, you were no longer the rebellious Omega who accepted no man near her.

To distract yourself from your doomed fate, you focused on carrying all those blankets and pillows back to the master bedroom where you spread them all out on the king-sized canopy bed. You put your hands on your waist and sighed, staring at the messy pile.

" … I somehow feel like I’ve made it worse," you mumbled to yourself.

Whatever demon had taken over your body before, claimed your hands once more and you began to neatly arrange the blankets to form a circle, a wall, around the middle of the bed. The pillows were used to enforce the wall and to prevent little Shamrock from easily climbing out. The wolf and deer fur added some much needed protection from the cold, it was still winter after all. Two large blankets completed the set-up, by the end of it you even felt a little proud of your work!

You heard a small yawn coming from your back and removed the sleepy pup from your sling. Little Shamrock looked more than ready for another nap, he could barely keep his eyes open even if he tried really hard just to gaze at the person he had claimed as his new mother.

"Sounds like someone is ready to test out their new nest," you whispered and kissed his forehead.

You climbed over the wall of pillows and curled up inside your nest. As soon as you put Shamrock down right next to your chest and closed your eyes for a moment, you were overcome by a deep sense of security. All that was missing now was a way to hide from the morning sunlight. You sat up to pull the curtains of the canopy bed shut, leaving only a tiny opening so you could still tell if it was day or night.

Here, within the comforting darkness, surrounded by the scent of your Alpha and your pup, you felt relieved. Perhaps it was thanks to your slowly dwindling sanity that a few pillows and a thick blanket weighing down on your body was enough to make you smile, but you took every second of happiness you could get. Every tiny moment of comfort, no matter how short, was precious.

Shamrock babbled, although he was sleepy, he still reached for the nearest corner of the blanket and chewed on it. You didn’t hesitate to look under your pillow and fetch the teething toy you kept hidden under there. The pup eagerly grabbed it and bit into it — his teeth were already growing, sharp and unusually long, both traits inherited from his father.

Seeing the pup's fangs made the bite wound on your neck ache.

"Promise me, when you grow up to become an Alpha, you will treat your mate with love and kindness," you told him and gently caressed his head while he chewed on his toy.

A simple wish could only do so much. It was you who needed to keep that promise. You were Shamrock's only hope of growing up in a place far away from this hell.

The two of you spent the rest of the day nesting, only occasionally leaving the safety of the bed to clean Shamrock up. Although this wasn’t so different from your usual daily routine of hiding away in the bedroom from the prying eyes of the servants, it gave you the illusion that you weren’t trapped. You were simply … nesting. Yes.

A good little Omega who cared for her young and wasn’t seen nor heard.

A tear ran down your cheek as a quiet sob escaped you before you could swallow it.

"I'm so glad we can all fight together, you know?" A good friend of yours, Theodor, a man who had fought at your side in your days as a revolutionary, told you with a bright smile.

"Hm?" You had snapped out of your daydreams and turned your head to face him.

"I mean, everyone keeps going on and on about how Omegas are no good in battle- but look at you! You’re the strongest woman I know … with the strongest appetite to top it off!" He laughed, but you knew your comrade's words were earnest.

"Careful, or I won’t save your butt next time the Marines attack us in the middle of the night," you teased him back.

"The strongest woman, huh?" You repeated. The words left a bad taste on your tongue, a sincere compliment twisted into a lie, all by your own choices.

At least Theodor would never see what had become of the revolutionary commander of the western division.

A pair of heavy boots marched through the halls, strutting towards the bedroom door with no hesitation or patience in their step. The ominous sound of the doorknob turning and the door slowly opening with a creak alerted you to the presence of your Alpha before the monster had laid his unsettling eyes on you. Knowing that he was inside the room now, you pulled Shamrock closer to your chest and squeezed your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

"Well, well, it seems that my Omega has no interest in welcoming her Alpha back from his hunt. You wound me, darling," Garling broke the silence with his arrogant tone, his voice laced thickly with venom.

You slowed your breathing and began to count from one to ten, hoping that it'd stop your heart rate from quickening once his scent wafted through the tiny opening between the curtains and invaded your nostrils. He stopped moving, you pressed your palm over your quivering lips — he was standing right behind you, just outside the bed.

"Now, what do we have here?" He said mockingly.

A single crimson eye peeked through the curtains into the darkness which could no longer protect you from your greatest fear. You stared back at him, feeling your pulse race when he pulled the curtains open and you were blinded by the afternoon sun shining through the windows.

Garling took a moment to take in the whole scene before him. The pillows, the stolen blankets from the guest rooms and most importantly, his young pup cradled in the arms of the new mother he had given him. He hummed in approval and took off his cloak, folding it neatly and placing it over the chair near his vanity. In that short moment of relief you forced all your senses to wake up, you couldn’t drop your guard around him.

"So you’ve finally settled in," he noted proudly, "I knew you’d feel comfortable enough to nest sooner or later, our instincts always get the better of us, don’t they?" He continued his attempts to pry an answer out of you, but your lips were tightly shut.

The knight wore his usual uniform, but thankfully he had switched the yellow and purple out for black with burgundy stripes. Not because he had suddenly developed a lick of taste when it came to fashion, he was merely dressing appropriately for a hunt that, for once, did not involve anyone on two legs. His curved hair still looked like it had been freshly combed and styled, not a single strand of hair out of place. If you hadn’t known any better, you'd have thought the whole hunt had been a lie.

Who else could keep his appearance so pristine and immaculate while shooting arrows from the back of his horse except your mate?

You bit your tongue when you caught yourself fawning over him, entertaining the idea that he was anything but a vile beast dressed in royal garments.

"Your silence bothers me more than your snarky remarks," Garling lamented, you rolled your eyes at him in reply, "Very well then, I will speak and you will listen, my feisty little Omega."

The knight sat down at the edge of the bed, his weight was enough to dip the mattress and stir Shamrock awake, who slowly blinked and drooled on his chew toy. No, no, no, you didn’t want him to start crying, not when your Alpha had just returned home and his mood was ever so unpredictable.

Your only option was the one you had sworn to never use front of your captor, but it was better than risking him losing his temper. So you did the unthinkable, you purred for your little one, right next to Garling. The purr of an Omega was an audible treasure for any Alpha, mated or not, a quiet little symphony meant to soothe those who heard it or to express complete and utter content.

Neither of which Garling deserved to hear. Nonetheless, the Alpha clearly enjoyed what he saw as another triumph, he grinned thinly as he took off his heavy leather boots.

"Now that you’re nesting and even purring in my presence, I believe it’s due time for me to fill up your womb with my pups," he growled.

You immediately shook your head in disbelief and disgust, how could this animal even entertain the thought of breeding you when you spent every waking moment of your life denying and insulting him? A stupid nest and a single purr hadn’t changed anything.

Garling put his knee on the bed and leaned over the wall of pillows to take a better look at you. Overtaken by irrational fear, you lifted your head and hissed at him, your own fangs had grown since you started looking after the pup so you could protect him better. Unfortunately nature had never intended for Omegas to have to fear and fight back against their bonded mates, so your teeth were laughable compared to the strength Garling wielded.

"Don’t you dare hiss at me," he commanded, grabbing you by the neck before you could bit his wrist. He choked you, the leather of his gloves feeling deceitfully warm around your throat.

"Stay away from me!" You finally snapped and loosened your tongue, regretting it soon after when the Alpha chuckled at you cruelly.

"You can kick, hiss and even bite me all you want, little one, none of those childish tantrums will ever cut our eternal bond. I'm yours now, and you, you are mine. Forever," Garling murmured, loosening the hold on your neck so he could caress it, "So move aside, a nest is not only for the lazy Omega and her pup to roll around in."

You kept your teeth bared. This damned curse of a bond stopped you from burying your teeth in his arm when he climbed inside and invaded the only safe space you had in this godforsaken house. Fortunately the bed was big enough for you to crawl away with the sleeping baby in your arms, putting as much distance between you and the Alpha.

" … so, how is our little one doing?" Garling asked once he had settled in next to you, at least he possessed the decency to close the curtains.

Although you were spared from seeing his disgustingly handsome visage, the darkness allowed him to move his hands towards you before you could dodge his advances. Naturally, it took him no longer than a few seconds before he was playing with your hair, braiding it loosely between his fingers as if you were a doll he could play out his fantasies with. In a way, that was true.

"Shamrock is fine," you croaked out, feeling the bile rise in your throat from every single one of his touches, but that short answer did not satisfy him, so you continued. "He's been eating well, more than usual, I think the nurses said he's in the middle of a growth spurt. And his teeth have sharpened, his canines turned into fangs."

Garling sighed happily and kissed your cheek, ignoring your distressed sob when his cold lips touched your skin. He briefly shifted his attention to the sleeping child who seemed perfectly content, his mouth was slightly open, just wide enough to catch a glimpse of his fangs.

"Good girl, isn’t it much nicer to answer and obey me than constantly fighting your own desires nail and tooth? Accept it, darling, you belong to me. You love my scent, you could get drunk on it and we both know how easily you fold when I sink my teeth into your neck," he teased you, allowing his lips to leave a trail of kisses from the side of your head down to your shoulder blades.

Garling licked over your bruised scent glands, right over the bite mark he had left when he marked you for the first time. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine and right into your core, such a primal reaction, one you couldn’t stop.

"Please- Please don’t, not when Shamrock is here," you pleaded with him, shaking your head as tears swelled up in your eyes.

Garling let out a purr of his own, is was much darker and more threatening than yours. Not a gift or soothing symphony, but a warning that you were on the verge of overstepping his boundaries.

"Would you rather fight your mate in front of the pup then?" He questioned you sharply.

In your fear you squeezed Shamrock tight, a little too tight — the little boy woke up from his sleep and saw his father's face looming above him and his mother. Instead of squirming away or hiding in your chest, he stretched out his little arms towards Garling.

"Dada? Dada!" Shamrock babbled happily, blissfully unaware of your suffering.

As much as it pained you to see how alone you were in your misery, there was a part of you that understood that this was for the best. You didn’t want Shamrock to grow up fearing his father, if you could help it, you would leave this place with him before he was old enough to understand. You bit your lip until it bleed, telling yourself over and over again that your only reason to keep going was Shamrock.

Shamrock. Shamrock. Shamrock.

You couldn’t break, not now, not when the little one thought his father had joined them to play and cuddle.

So you submitted. You lowered your eyes, breaking your defiant stare, and purred for him quietly. All while Shamrock continued to try and get Garling's attention, unaware that this beast didn’t have the capacity to love his own child in his cold, dead heart.

"That's my girl," he praised you and brushed your hair behind your ear, ignoring the babbling child as if he wasn’t there at all.

You feared for the worst when Garling sat up and finally reached for the pup who was on the verge of crying out of pure frustration. You felt a deep ache in your chest as soon as the Alpha pulled Shamrock from your arms.

"Please, Garling," you whispered.

"Oh, you never stop finding ways to insult me, dearest. You really think I'd harm my own pup?" He scoffed and cuddled Shamrock on his chest, the little boy tugged on his uniform and kicked his little feet, visibly excited to finally be with his father.

A single, shuddering breath of relief left you as you watched Garling place a kiss atop Shamrock's head.

In the dark, the knight's eyes almost looked like they were glowing red. If Garling didn’t look like the devil before, he certainly did now.

"What do you take me for? Some kind of monster?"

"Yes." You snapped back at him and Garling's smirk vanished within an instant.

A beat of silence.

You held your breath.

Another beat of silence only broken up by the sound of Shamrock's babbles.

You felt as if the world was closing in on you, growing smaller and smaller until there was nothing left but the darkness surrounded by curtains, trapping you within the nest that had brought you such short-lived comfort.

This had never truly been a safe place for you or the boy you wished to save, you had crawled deep into the lion's den. Naked. Vulnerable. A defenseless prey animal waiting for the return of her hunter.

As soon as you could tear yourself out of your stupor, you jumped out of the bed and ran towards the door.

Garling threw the curtains open and stood up, still holding Shamrock as he approached you with slow, meticulous steps. He wasn’t chasing after you, he was prowling towards you. There was no rush. He knew he'd catch you — after all, you were trapped in his domain.

"Go on, run from me! Faster, darling, let your blood boil," he mocked you, "You know, I've been hunting deer all day, thinking you'd be grateful that your Alpha is keeping you fed … but I realize you’re just an ungrateful little brat."

You finally managed to pull the door open and bolted through the hallway.

"Maybe you’ll learn to thank me when I show you what it means to become my prey." Garling's voice followed you no matter how far you ran, his scent lingered on every surface of the house, making it impossible to tell where he was.

But you knew one thing for sure: Once he caught you, he'd make his threats of breeding you come true. Wether you liked it or not.

[ To be continued … ]

————————————————————————

When I saw how many likes people had left on the Omegaverse headcanons for Garling, I felt the urge to dig a little deeper and continue to explore how truly dark this storyline could turn out-

Any wishes for what our favorite, well-mannered devil should do to our poor Reader? Let me know in my ask box.

Roddy isn’t dumb, he knows he’s being used so he knows not to trust megatron but he can’t defeat him not on his own.

Sooo maybe he plays the long game and carefully gets certain bots to see tyranny isn’t gonna work and everything will end up just like his home. That anger is eventually engulfed in depression and its keeping Soundwave from feeling all the things he thinks.

He does little things to get megs and other lower class, middle class & high class decepticons to try and change the direction. He supports the con cause because they do have a point but he isn’t in favor of killing and destroying everything under a fake guise of peace

He uses both little ways and words along with good fragging, letting the groups have those outlets often resulting in quite a few sparkings and a majority of the seekers being down due to carrying trines or twin eggs. Coupled with getting megs and soundwave in berth and somehow getting shockwave to test out his new pink vial of sex hormones with optimus— he did not want to know why those two were doing anything before and in the beginning of war he’s just working with what he has — and use it to hinder the autobots by getting them sparked up as well.

It works…

Both sides are sparked to the max and none are eager to go on a battlefield.

Roddy is..still angry and depressed but..his plan worked…war has ceased and autobots are returning to cities on one side of the planet while decepticons return to the other.

The neutrals that left stayed in another part of the cybertron uninhabited by con & autobots alike.

Those with cross faction were a taboo not really mentioned for fear it would upset whatever was happening…they had their own far corner on cybertron away from everybot.

Megatron of course sees what happened not much later and roddy fears its the end of his hard work. He knows his spark is about to be extinguished when he’s called to megatrons hab only for an unlikely companion to join him.

Shockwave was busy with optimus who was in the process of getting Shockwave to slowly remove his empurata.

It was Shockwave and Starscream of all mechs who defended him.

“Soundwave: wishes not to begin war when peace is achieved. Loss heavy: would not want more. New age, better. Blood shed: unnecessary.”

“The walking dictionary is right we need to maintain the peace we have and claim our victories while we have them. No one bot wants to do more than rest while on swollen pedes and exhausted from our spark chambers being drained. Maybe if you were carrying you’d see how it feels,” that was a mood swing if any.

But thankfully no bot was dumb enough to aggravate starscream by calling it that.

“If Soundwave says bloodshed is unnecessary..i can accept that but you saying starscream…leaves me to wonder how I couldn’t see it myself.”

That almost gets the two going when roddy puts an end to it, “so i’m not gonna be a decorative piece in your office? Can i leave now? Because i’m not needed anymore,” he tries to scoot himself out but starscream is already leaving and closing the door behind him.

“Slag it.”

He grumbles to himself and sees Soundwave stand, “cassettes, will live to see peace. Methods strange: conclusions positive. Good luck magenta speedster.”

Soundwave leaves him there as well.

“Listen…i don’t know whats going on but…if you kill me it won’t be as satisfying since i can’t fight you like deadlock or the others.”

“Ah deadlock. My mercenary thats off with the medic ratchet. Your amica i believe. How odd he left before this new peace broke out. Especially since he was moody like starscream until the medic showed up with a new bitty. Now they’re having another because the medic is sparked. Seems he should be here to thank you for that, hm?”

Roddy doesn’t say more than a ridiculous uhhh before stepping back and turning on his flames.

“If you kill me make it quick. I want to join my people without the added stress,” he breathes harshly.

It would be terrifying to die by Megatrons hand even if he mellowed out with all the sparked bots surrounding him. It would be impossible not to. The only one who hasn’t…was..on Megatrons list to be taken care of. His along with Shockwaves since he didn’t want the prime fighting while sparked.

The autobots weren’t thrilled to be sparked up, ironhide was forced to sit down by Chromia, Jazz made Prowl relax and subdued him to the berth since the twin sparks took a lot out of him, bumblebe was long gone from the public view- he’d seen him entering Starscreams quarters with a bouncing skywarp and a sparked thundercracker who looked tired just like starscream— he wasn’t shocked about bee being in the trine he was shocked he got two of them sparked at the same time- minis really know how to go it seemed.

Cliffjumper was forced to take it easy by Mirage while a slew of other autobots were sparked and forced to retire.

His plan worked, every bot is rebuilding their homes and burying the dead, energon is flowing throughout their homes and the autobots have followed what optimus asked on his side.

“To remain the course of peace they were given.”

Much like the way Megatron ordered his troops and people.

“You spread those stabilizers and got yourselves sparked, so accept the consequences and raise them yourselves.”

As much a tyrant he was Megatron never allowed sparklings to be cast off unattended. Twisted and warped by experimenting on new sparks by the last of the hot spots yes. But even then he kept them sheltered until they could fight, cruel yes but he didn’t abandon them, oddly enough.

‘He draws the line at such odd things.’

Before he knew it, Roddy was in Megatrons servo and he was preparing for death:

When it never came he..opened his optics to Megatron staring him down.

“If you wanted a bot to spark you,” megatron actually growled at him for that, “i mean to spark, i’m sure you still have a taker. Iltra magnus and you used to go at it like it was a weird flirting..Let me come up with a plan and i’m sure he’s yours,”’Roddy quickly stated but was yelping when Megatron turned with him in servo and walked towards his berth.

“That won’t be necessary. I have no intention of being set up with a mech. No. I plan to do something else. You see, your plan has succeeded and peace is here with both sides gaining land, prosperity, a living planet thats thriving with abundant life and a new dawn of sparks that will surely solidify peace. I find myself annoyed you took my original victory but i can appreciate the long planned finesse you pulled to do this.”

Roddy felt his spark stifle at the sight of the berth.

“Smart one you are but i’m a bit smarter. Did you think your plan went unnoticed? Did you think I didn’t notice you encouraging my troops to connect wires, spikes and valves? How you would speak of missing your homeland and the sound of little pedes along with it making the others in turn do the same? Oh no. I saw your plan coming, a mistake on my part not to watch you getting into Shockwave’s helm with a list vial and shagging up with his old conjunx Optimus, then spreading said vial onto autobot base.”

“No, that i can admit you surprised me with, but mass sparking the population to peace? Starting with my troops? I didn’t expect to happen in such numbers but I saw coming. What I want to know is why you turned coat every time the opportunity to get yourself sparked presented itself. I know the answer but i’d prefer you tell me. Honestly.”

“I plan to be the last one of my people and to die after the peace is assured. I have nothing left but the anger and sadness. My home is no more and cannot be rebuilt nor can I find another that would..understand. I wanted out after everything was said and done.”

“Just the answer i was looking for.”

Megatron stood at his berth, one that looked…oddly soft for a mech of his tastes.

Nothing but pillows and blankets and sheets littered the frame. A frame that was no longer standard and changed like every bots on board. But there slabs were soft like before the war..this was..this was something else.

“Do you like it? Its far too soft for my tastes but I’ve heard its got quite the appeal to carriers.”

He felt his whole world axel spin and he was rushing to try and free himself from the solid grip.

“Ah ah, i feel its only fair that..since my original plans were ruined, i won’t be going back on my word that I can promise. I personally am not too angered by this underhanded defeat. Its been nice not having Starscream try to kill me. Seems he’s taken well to the plan you cooked up since that yellow bug came fully into the picture.”

And wow okay just how many knew of his plan?

“My High guard knew, but with Soundwave’s..unplanned sparking with that blasted red cassette player..acceptance was granted and allowed your plan motion.”

He was clawing trying to get away from the mech who held him.

“I will not restart war nor kill you for such an…odd and embarrassing steal of my victory..no. I have greater plans for you and a much sweeter revenge.”

The warlord laid himself onto the berth and pulled Roddy with him. Laying the mech on top himself with ease.

“It won’t be today and it won’t be tomorrow either. But one day, and one day soon, dear red flower, you will bear my sparks and start my lineage. Should I not have the kings victory I sought and dreamed, I will have the kings ending of a continued reigning line and a beautiful bot to fulfill it for me.”

The smirk on his face was the ending to Roddy’s fate.

“You should be proud of your little plan and the great success its caused. And you should be utmost excited to live to see it to fruition,” he smirked, rubbing Roddy’s spark chamber.

“How unfair to let your people die out, hmm? Red flower? Let them live on. Repopulating takes time and seeing as you had plenty of time to plan this victory of yours..I have plenty of time to enjoy watching you build mine.”

“I’m not a carrier don’t do this, don’t do this to me!”

“Oh but on the contrary you are,” Megatron smirked and overrides his seal components opening his chassis to reveal… a spark casing that housed only his spark with a pair of mesh pouches with dark round nozzles. They were quite big and bounced with each movement.

He felt..like a youngling getting charged just seeing them.

What snapped him from his gazing was Roddy covering the pouches and scurrying off before being grabbed again.

“What is the meaning of this?”

He looked closer, easily gripping Roddy’s other servo that tried to smack him.

“Is that a..that’s a gestation brand. Why dear flower..you lied. You are a carrier,” he spoke with surprised wording.

“A tank carrier,” he wondered how his flower could’ve survived all this time. The functionalists all but wiped them out thousands of years before war ever broke out.

‘Then again, Nyon closed itself off around the endings of that slaughter,’ Megatron smirked to himself.

“I’ve successfully caught a great prize for myself indeed. The one to usher in a new era shall be mine and the sparklings you shall carry in your gestation forge will be beautiful as you and as powerful as I,” he rejoiced.

“They will find out it was me and they will kill me,” Roddy tried in vain, he needed anything to get himself out of this, he refused to carry, he refused to live another minute if it meant activating such degrading coding within himself that he’s always hated.

“Now now, dear flower, I’m no ordinary mech. I can handle the hatred those of autobot kind will supply. And their prime will no doubt hinder their attempts as well. My troops..will not harm such a rare treat of mine. After all, many wanted this war over and relish in their peace. To kill the one who helped grant it would be blasphemous to us.”

Roddy felt tears begin to fall as he realized there was no escape for him.

This was his fate, his punishment, for ending the lives of Nyon and joining the decepticon ranks instead of taking Optimus’s offer.

The war would still rage if he had, but he would’ve been free. Free of the burden his frame carried and safe to roam the planet without a gaggle of sparklings to tend and a warlord on his heels keeping him leashed.

“Let me grant you one heir than kill me, it could be written off as death in emergence. No one knows how to work on us, it would be easy to believe,” he pleaded, panicked.

“Oh? And why would I kill the future carrier of my sparklings and the future conjunx to my spark? What a cruel thing even I would not do.”

Megatron smirked at Roddy’s realization and he lowered the mech to his reconfigured berth as he broke down and crumbled into himself.

“You took away my victory, I take away your freedom and happiness,” the mech whispered into his audial, spark bared with a smirk as he inched closer to the hysterical mech.

“A bonding of Kaon’s finest and Nyon’s last survivor that will being forth a new beginning, how fitting I should say,” he laughed.

No bot was brave enough or suicidal enough to interrupt the bonding taking place.

Every bot in decepticon territory knew what was happening and none could stop it.

They would forever remember the sacrifice their new queen suffered for their forced peace.

Something even the autobots took pity on.

—

Sunstreaker glowed like a small sun on the battlefield. He glowed like a small sun anyway, but there was just something about all the gore and the energon and the dust and debris that made it more… glowy. Maybe it was the way he smiled as it sprayed from under his fist or the pep he had in his step. Whatever it was, Bluestreak couldn’t ever look away. Whenever Sunstreaker escaped his view he would adjust his position to find him again, always watching, always waiting. He’d shoot at the mechs who he hadn’t seen yet. He’d take out the snipers waiting on the opposite rooftops, lining up their shots. He did his job, but he centred it around a mech who hadn’t noticed how he felt and who he’d never, ever admit it to.

They were friends. It was what it was, it was how things worked for them. Friends. Just friends. Injecting new thoughts and feelings was just bad and always ended badly and-

He just wasn’t going to do it, okay? It was a stupid feeling that was going to be held close to his chest where it could rot and he would be disgusted and drop it and friends they would remain. It was how things were.

::Good shot, Blue!:: his comm crackled in his audial, Sunstreakers voice clear. He was grinning up at him with a thumbs up – Prowl would have his helm for it later, giving away the position of their sniper – and Bluestreak couldn’t help the stupid flutter of his spark or the way he grinned back, his face glowing pink.

::Who do you think you’re signalling to?:: Prowls voice clipped across, tight and measured and dripping with promises of a stern talking to later. Bluestreak muffled his snort into a balled fist as he flicked between the two, as was his habit when two mechs were chatting over short distance comms, when something caught his optic. Prowl was on the other side of the field, unprotected by the line of defence they’d set up for their logistics and medical, gun raised as he took stock of the field, and he hadn’t noticed the Decepticon slowly closing in on him.

::My guardian angel:: Sunstreaker snootily replied. Bluestreak squeezed the trigger, and the Decepticon dropped like a stone. Prowl whirled around in surprise, ducking down behind cover.

::And yours too, it looks like:: Bluestreak cheekily replied. He hoped nobody could see how wild his doorwings were.

Mandatory training was always a complete and utter drag, but on the days when they were grouped with the frontliners it suddenly became the most exciting part of his week because the twins were there.

Which, of course, meant that Sunstreaker was there, but Bluestreak knew that he wasn’t allowed to admit that. So. It was the fact that his two best friends were there.

Ironhide gave the command to group up, and Bluestreak went straight to them. Sunstreaker picked him up and spun him around before carefully setting him back down again. They both giggled in excitement, jumping around in circles together - they both stuck out a hand for Sideswipe, the mech eagerly joining them as they hopped around.

“Are the three of you capable of not acting like infants?” Ironhide asked them, brow raised in amusement.

“Yes, Sir! With encouragement!” They replied in unison. Ironhide rolled his optics, was was tradition. It was the same song and dance every single time, the trio never learning, never changing. Bluestreak beamed brightly up at him.

“Ready for your instruction, Sir!” He saluted.

It was off the back of a training session that the alarm went off. Decepticon activity had been detected. They were to meet them en-route and block their attack. The three of them grinned widely at each other before setting off together, the buzz from the training still running high.

It was a day that had been going so well. It was only natural that the scales had been tipped and needed to be rebalanced.

Bluestreak had lost sight of Sunstreaker. He picked off the targets that he could, ducking and hiding between each shot and praying that he hadn’t been spotted. The landscape was covered in rocky outcrops and dips and tall spires that hid caves and pools of corrosive liquid, difficult terrain to navigate but even more difficult to move between positions in. They could gain the high ground in seconds. Nowhere was truly hidden, but everything was obscured at the same time.

He cursed as he ducked down and reloaded. Twisting to line up his shot, he took a deep breath, the trigger creaking under his finger-

And squeezed at the same time as something landing behind him.

I hope that made it went through his mind at the same time as what the everloving fuck was that?! And he whipped around, gun trained on the mass, to see Sunstreaker laying flay out behind him. He was eerily still, his breath whistling through his vents. He was dented and bleeding bright blue, and his hands faltered on his gun.

“Sunny?!”

Scrambling down from his position, he slid the last few meters over to him. The mech didn’t respond, staring blankly up at the sky. A cold feeling gripped him when he realised what he was happening.

Oh. He was dying. That’s what that was, wasn’t it? He was dying.

Bluestreak didn’t know what he was doing. The grey was starting to seep in at the edges and his optics were pale and there was a horrible guttering sound coming from his engine, and he just.

Pulled him under cover despite the voice in his head that screamed at him to not move him. Made sure they were hidden and that nobody had seen them or was going to follow them. Forced his chest plates open as he remembered that story Jazz had told him one night when he couldn’t sleep because Prowl had been hurt and he was so so worried and his mind had spent hours racing and racing and racing until he’d crawled over to Jazz and-

His chest plates opened much more easily. Wrapping his arms around him, he held him tightly in a hug, tucking his face into his neck and hissing as their sparks brushed. Every single bit of pain he felt transferred over to him in that brief moment, his own spark trembling and pulling away. Swallowing hard, he firmly pressed them back together. They had to be touching. It didn’t work if they weren’t touching.

“Blue?” Sunstreakers voice was weak and full of static and noise and was very un-Sunstreaker. Bluestreak gently shushed him and ignored how his spark trembled against his own.

“Shh. Don’t speak, okay? Conserve your energy.” Guilty he was guilty he was so so guilty and

It was all he could think to do. Spark to spark support. It was meant to be a last ditch effort. He’d be court marshalled for it for certain. Prowl would be so, so disappointed and Jazz would blame himself for telling him about it and Sideswipe would be so angry and Sunstreaker – oh, Primus, Sunstreaker-

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Bluestreak couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice or the coolant that pooled in his optics. Oh, he was the worst. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to do.”

Jazz, naturally, blamed himself.

He left the talking to Prowl as he left with Ratchet to figure out what the hell they were going to do. All he could manage was a sad, guilty look as he left with him. Bluestreak felt the weight of the guilt hanging over him like a heavy cloud.

“You formed a bond, Bluestreak.” Prowl did not sound impressed. “It could be permanent. Do you know what that means?”

“I’m not a child, Prowl.” Bluestreak hissed back. “Of course I know what it means! Do you think I meant to do it?”

“What did you think would happen keeping your sparks together for that long?!”

“He was dying! The medics weren’t close and he was guttering and-” He took a deep breath as coolant pooled in his optics. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want him to die, he’s my best friend. You know that.”

Prowl frowned at him. “This is quite serious, Bluestreak.”

“I know.” He wiped away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. “I know. It’s bad, isn’t it? I just didn’t know what else to do.” He hiccuped loudly, more tears rolling down his cheeks. “He’s going to be so angry, isn’t he?”

“We wont know the extent of it until he wakes up.” Prowl placed a hand on his shoulder, and Bluestreak leaned heavily against his guardian. “I’ll do what I can for you.”

Sunstreaker wasn’t speaking to him. Sideswipe wasn’t even looking at him.

Not many mechs were, actually. Bluestreak understood. What he’d done was completely unacceptable – it was natural that it’d make him an outcast. It didn’t take away the sting of it though, it didn’t make it any easier. Nobody was speaking to him outside of a professional capacity, a look of thinly veiled mistrust on their face. He had narrowly escaped dishonourable discharge only because he’d been so guilty about it. As it was, he’d been taken off duty and was on a strict schedule of doing all the jobs nobody else liked or wanted to do – the cleaning of the washracks, the scrubbing of the energon storage tanks, the inventory checks. All jobs that had him on his own.

Bluestreak thinks that was Prowl. Not out of malice but out of kindness – there was no guarantee that the mechs he’d be working with would extend him any goodwill. It would kill him if he had to navigate the crew he once got on so well with treating him like a Decepticon captive.

When Sunstreaker had woken up, he’d initially been confused – the last thing he remembered was being up in the sky with his jetpack. It was quite normal for there to be disorientation when coming back online after a battle, the processor not always quite remembering what lead up to the state they found themselves in. Bluestreak had been there – at first he’d frowned at him, and then Bluestreak felt a fluttering in the bond and a look of horrified realisation had spread on Sunstreaker’s face, and he’d been very clear in the fact that he wanted Bluestreak far, far away from him.

Nobody had tried to stop him as he ran away, legs moving faster than he knew was possible as he sprinted away and out the base. He wouldn’t go far – it was suicide to go out of the protected fortress in this area as it was – but he didn’t want anyone to look at him as he sobbed. It wasn’t going to go any other way, he’d readied himself for this response, but he couldn’t help it. It still hurt.

Jazz had been the one to come after him, quietly sitting down next to him and waiting for Bluestreak to speak first.

“What do I do?” he helplessly asked him through the tears.

“You have to accept their answer.”

Bluestreak could feel him still. It wasn’t really fading – it led to the understanding that it was permanent. That would change his punishment for sure, but Bluestreak had been doing some research when he was supposed to be cleaning (because really, who needs to scrub the energon tank every single decacycle? It used to be done once every two groons!) and found that for freshly established bonds that were still settling and hadn’t been built on or re-established, or where those in it hadn’t been physically close, more significant physical distance could cause it to fade. The pain of it breaking would hurt, but Bluestreak wasn’t scared of that. He was more scared of nobody ever looking at him like he wasn’t a traitor again.

Prowl had initially pushed back on it. Himself and Jazz were the only two who still treated him like he had feelings. They were still disappointed and he could tell and it still stung and hurt but at least they looked at him, at least they still touched him and hugged him and let him be close to them.

“I’ll speak to Prime.”

It was as positive a response as he was going to get.

His usual routine was one that he held close to his spark. He happily nattered to himself as he scrubbed things clean – usually complete nonsense, but now it had started to take a more morbid turn in a twist Bluestreak wasn’t going to start unpacking now, and his only moments of silence were when he felt Sunstreaker having an emotion strong enough for him to feel. He would let his optics shutter as he basked in the feeling of it, so glad and so grateful that he was still alive. Despite the guilt that had settled into every circuit and bolt of his frame, he was so happy that he was alive and able to feel these things. Every moment of happiness was a blessing. Thank Primus he was alive to experience it. It stung a little less each time.

He was singing along to a song that played from the radio precariously balanced on the shelf behind him as he took inventory of their energon stores when his spark twisted painfully in his chest. His voice faltered and he grimaced, rubbing the spot underneath his chest plates furiously to get the feeling to dissipate. The last time he’d felt that was when Sunstreaker had first seen him after the whole ‘accidentally bonded’ thing. What had happened this time? Was he okay? He couldn’t help but worry about it.

“Bluestreak.”

He gasped and dropped the clipboard he was holding, stylus rolling away under a rack. Sunstreaker had managed to sneak up on him – how did he not notice? The bond gave away nothing, his footsteps nothing, his field – he hadn’t even noticed he was there until he’d spoken. Still, he nervously smiled at him and hoped it wasn’t a grimace.

“Hi, Sunstreaker.”

His face was downturned. It wasn’t an expression he was used to having levelled at him from Sunstreaker and it didn’t feel good. “They’re saying you’re being transferred to a different base. Is it true?”

Ah. Prowl must have pulled the right strings.

“Oh, they approved it then? That’s nice.” He stooped down to pick up the clipboard back up. He rummaged around under the shelf trying to find the stylus, but it was a lost cause – he stood back up and absently brushed dust from it. “I was wondering how long it’d take to hear back about that. Did they tell you first? That’s mean of them.”

“You’re serious?” His voice crackled.

Bluestreak looked at him curiously. He didn’t quite believe that it was sadness he was detecting in the way his face crumpled or his voice broke, but he didn’t know what else it could possibly be.

“What else was I supposed to do?” He replied. “It’s not like I can really stay here.” He laughed, pressing his hand to his cheek. “Everyone hates my guts! Oh- and don’t worry! This will break the bond. Hopefully. So you don’t need to worry about me randomly getting offed on an alien planet and taking you and Sideswipe down with me. That’d be really bad, wouldn’t it? Not the three for the price of one you want – it’ll just be me going down if anything happens, which is such a relief.” He wasn’t used to speaking to anyone who wasn’t Prowl, Jazz, or himself, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to say any more. Was that weird? It had probably been weird. He was going to have to relearn how to talk with people.

Sunstreaker suddenly marched towards him with a dark expression and Bluestreak rapidly back-pedalled with a gasp. The hug the golden mech wrapped him in was a shock and tight, Sunstreaker holding him as close as he could. He pulled away slightly to grab the clipboard Bluestreak was holding in between them like a shield and chuck it away, it audibly cracking, and pulling him back tighter.

“Idiot.” He hissed into his audial. “You idiot.”

Bluestreak slowly, hesitantly, hugged him back. It was more of a gentle press of his hands to his upper back, but it would have to pass as one. The last time they’d been this close, he was pressing their sparks together in that desperate attempt to save him.

“What’re you doing? I didn’t think you wanted to be anywhere near me.”

Sunstreaker held him tighter still. “Why’d you do it?”

There was only one thing he could have meant. He felt numb saying it, the words no longer having any meaning to them – he’d said it so many times it just felt like he was parroting them now, but it was still true. That part didn’t change.

“I didn’t mean to.” His hands twitched and his optics prickled.

“Why’d you do it?”

“You were going to die. I panicked and I didn’t know what else to do, you were dying and it was all I could hear and I can still hear it-” he hiccuped, his cheeks suddenly wet and his face a mess and thank Primus Sunstreaker couldn’t see it, he didn’t know what he looked like but he was so, so certain that it was unflattering and ghastly and all around bad. “I’m so, so glad you’re still alive, I don’t know what I’d have done if it didn’t work.”

Sunstreaker sighed and he felt him look up at the ceiling – he had to tilt his head to avoid his finial. “All of this trouble over me. I hope you know how stupid you look.”

Bluestreak laughed. “About as stupid as a I feel. I’d do it again if I had to.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t have to.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sunstreaker.”

The mech twisted his helm down to press into the side of his face, cheek to cheek. He didn’t know if it was his own face that was wet, or if Sunstreaker’s was too. “Don’t go.”

“Can’t stay.” He sniffled back.

“Stop running away from me, then. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you? I’d try and follow the bond but I’d always end up where Sideswipe was. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Bluestreak firmly pushed him away, tips of his fingers pressing against his chest to keep the contact minimal. His spark cried at the loss of contact and he shoved the feeling down. “Why?” He asked incredulously. “What the pit did you want me for?”

Sunstreaker always had longer arms than he did, and they still tightly gripped his shoulders.

“I-”

He shook his helm and chewed his bottom lip, looking down at his pedes. When he looked back up at him again his optics were wet.

“If it could have been anyone, I’m glad it was you - you’re the only one I want it to be. Being away from you made me realise what a complete dick I’ve been. I should have stood with you, I’m so sorry. I can’t- don’t-” He fought to find the words. “Please don’t leave me.”

Bluestreak felt like his jaw was on the floor. What did he mean he was the only one he wanted to be bonded to? That wasn’t right. Surely that’s not what he meant. His wings fluttered and twitched in time with his spark, his processor struggling to put together what he was saying to him.

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.” Bluestreak focused on where the tips of his fingers met Sunstreakers chest. They were so close to the seam – the last time he’d had his hands there he’d been forcing it open to get to his spark. It burned against his hands but he couldn’t move them – if he moved them, Sunstreaker might take it as invitation to pull them back together again and he couldn’t accept it. If he was going he needed to cut his connections, he needed to remove all ties that he had where he no longer belonged.

It must have shown on his face. Sunstreaker was looking at him strangely – he’d not seen that look on his face before.

“Nothing is going to change your mind, is it.” It wasn’t a question.

Bluestreak pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“I can’t take my friends looking at me like that any more.” He quietly replied, answering him anyway. “Nobody wants me here, so I may as well make it easy for everyone.”

Wow, I really don’t sound like myself any more. That’s so weird. I hope I come back soon.

Sunstreaker was silent, intently studying his face. His hands flexed on his shoulders, gently squeezing the metal. Bluestreak didn’t move his hands.

“How did you find out I was transferring?” Bluestreak asked him when he felt the silence had dragged on for long enough.

“Overheard them all talking about it.”

“Oh.” He rocked on his pedes. “Do you know where I’m going?”

“I left before I found out.”

“That’s a shame. I guess I’ll have to wait until Prowl comes and gives me the transfer orders – I wont have to pretend so much to be surprised.”

“You’ve got a lot to get on with now then, I guess.” Sunstreakers hands fell from his shoulders and hung awkwardly at his sides. Bluestreak took a step back, curling his hands against his chest – he wanted to keep the heat of them in, to lock in the warmth of Sunstreaker’s chest so that he didn’t forget it.

“Uhm. Yeah. Probably – I’ll need to pack, wont I? Wow. I haven’t had to pack up since we moved here, I hope I haven’t accumulated too much. I wonder if I’ll still be able to feel you? It’s been nice being able to feel it whenever you’re happy or you laugh – makes it all feel worth it, you know? Sorry, that was weird wasn’t it? Uhm. I should… where did that clipboard go?” Bluestreak swiftly turned around and looked for the clipboard – he’d heard it land over to the side when Sunstreaker threw it, and it didn’t sound like it slid across the floor and more like it bounced, so it could easily be somewhere weird, oh why did he have to throw it-?

“You can feel me?”

Bluestreak spotted it and knelt down. Yeah, that had been a crack he’d heard – neatly down the middle of the screen. Great. At least he wouldn’t need to use it for too much longer. Hopefully it wouldn’t catch his fingers too much as he slid them across the screen, that would be so uncomfortable.

“I can. Only when it’s really strong, though – apparently that’s normal.”

“I haven’t felt you at all.” Sunstreakers hand was on his chest, straight over the middle where his spark was. Bluestreak felt a prod through their bond, a slight flutter in his spark.

“You haven’t missed anything – there hasn’t been anything worth feeling.”

His comm unit pinged, a notification coming up from Prowl. He was being summoned to his office and his spark leaped a little in his chest. Nerves and excitement, but also a deep sense of sadness that got stronger when he looked at Sunstreaker. He nervously smiled at him, tucking the broken clipboard close to his chest and hugging it tightly to him.

“Uhm. Prowl’s calling for me, I should go.”