Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers characters, robots, environments etc, etc. Any OC, robot or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: M for abuse, torture, violence, gore. Sadism. OOCness through the roof, OCs here and there, beware. My first real Non-Con ever, scary. Warning may expand in the future.

Beta: My brand new and shiny Francesca Zatnik!

A/N: So here we have the right update. I received the proof read edition from my shiny new beta, but updated the wrong file. This one is the fixed one.

…- Azure Droplets, Crimson Optics -…

Starscream knows his CPU isn't one-hundred percent functional.

He is plagued with glitches and little hiccups, and always has been; Irregularity caused by an over clocked processor. The seeker has learned to live with it, because he knows there are bots much sicker in the head then he is; much, much more messed up then he.

Now he questions his sanity again, the moment his mate-to-be retracted his battle mask, revealing a calm face dressed with a soft and inviting smile. The seeker had sputtered, confusing old feelings resurfacing. The thought 'As handsome as he ever was,' crosses his CPU. He doesn't want to know what caused that glitch, it sickens him; makes him feel like a traitor. Bitter confusion rattles over his circuits the same way the obnoxiously gentle hand is cupping his face, lifting his chin in a matter a lover would. The same way Orion would years and years back.

But Orion is dead.

And in his place Optimus hadn't suspected the sudden refusal of his touches. The mech is now favouring an injured hand, four deep welds caused by sharp talons running over the back dripping at a steady pace. The large mech doesn't seem intimidated, doesn't seem angry. He doesn't seem anything as he just stares at the smaller mech now standing on the other side of the small room.

"What is wrong with you?" An optical ridge rises in question. This isn't Optimus Prime. This isn't a monster known throughout the galaxy for a short temper and a disastrous bad humour. A chuckle finally escapes the warlord's vocals, his lips once again drawing into a smile. What disturbs the seeker is that the Autobot is so… tolerant about this. "Every couple has their little spats."

"Don't call us that…" It was supposed to be a shout, not a low, whispered hiss. It sounded desperate coming from his vocaliser. The seeker is backing away from the larger mech, frantic for a way out.

There is none, he knows.

"I know you are upset…" This is an understatement of inconceivable proportions. "…I understand. You have lost, your faction is no more." The seeker shivers uncontrollably, staring at the other in uncertainty.

"You're lying…" Another hiss, the seeker is having problems finding his voice. When the Prime takes a step towards the flyer he takes one back, and the process repeats itself twice before Starscream is backed into the wall behind him. "Lying…" It's toned down to a whisper, more to convince himself.

In the one tick he casts his optics to the spotless floor the other moves, stepping up to him and embracing him. An arm encircles his waist before the seeker can stop him, trapped between a metal wall and a metal chassis. "We attacked six Decepticon bases." And that is all he needs to say. There were only six Decepticon bases left. Blue optics rise to glare at the larger mech. Optimus isn't bothered, too preoccupied with the beauty of his obsession to care for the heated glower aimed at him. He smiles again, brushing faint fingertips over a smooth metal cheek. Cold. His seeker has yet to be fed. His thumb brushes over the smaller mech's lower lip, caressing it gently before moving to the cheek again. His hand moves up slightly, cupping the other's face backwards. The soft smile gracing his own lips twitches slightly in amusement, before they part. The smaller frame is slowly beginning to tremble, the hands placed against his chest curling into tightening fists, the wings on the seeker's back drooping.

Acceptance is a maddening thing to deal with.

"We took very few prisoners." The seeker's lips draw into a thin line, his optics steeling up in brewing resentment. The bigger mech finally breaks a true grin, sharp teeth finally visible. "Just to be done with it." He mocks the former SiC with glee. The smile doesn't leave his face when the seeker suddenly brings a hand up and punches him across the jaw, as hard as one can from such proximity. Starscream begins to thrash, lost in a fit caused by mere days filled with stress and trepidation. The short struggle ends as quickly as it began when Optimus presses himself against the smaller frame, pushing the flyer fully into the wall behind him. Starscream tries to kick him when his hands are incapacitated above his helm, scratching the paint of the larger mech's left leg with his own thrusters.

The seeker finally snaps in anger and screeches with fury when he loses the ability to move completely as the other pins him. The heavy body of the larger mech doesn't budge no matter what the flyer does. Starscream tries to bite, his last resort, and Prime backs away slightly when the seeker goes for his face, releasing one of the smaller mech's wrists in favour of grabbing him high in the throat, forcing him to keep his head still. The free hand comes down on a shoulder and begins creating thin lines, the claws scraping over it with an antagonising screeching. However, the armour of the Prime is thick, and it will take more then a prying talon to hurt him.

Hot air brushes over the flyer's face when the other traces his lips over the seeker's face, ever so lightly with a touch barely there. Starscream can see that horrible smile still on the Autobot's face, before it disappears out of sight as the Prime leans in to brush his lips over a sensitive audio receiver on the side of his head. "Megatron cried for you." He rumbles softly, making the flyer halt his movement. "His last thoughts were for you." The whisper is malicious, meant to hurt him but the bigger mech is affected by it as well. Resentment and venom drip from his tone, and his engine rumbles in anger, gears grinding in strain. Starscream has fallen silent, trembling harder. The anger is leaving him, dragging a trail of exhaustion with it to be replaced with a sorrow of loss. The lack of proper rest and energon is beginning to show. His breath hitches in his throat when the Autobot looks him dead in the optics, the usually mocking crimson now a deep, livid scarlet. They soften when Optimus gains control of himself before his temper goes wild, reigning himself in when reality hits him again.

Megatron has been dealt with and he, Prime, has who he has wanted for so very long. There is nothing left that can take the seeker from him. They both know it.

The larger mech purrs softly, relaxing slightly. "He will no longer poison you with lies. I made sure of it." The promise flows from those lips as if the phrase has been said over and over and over, has been practiced and repeated thousands of times. It is as if the other is stating this more for himself then for Starscream, as if he needs to convince himself again that the grey gun former will never take what he claims belongs to him. Uncertainty bordering on madness. The seeker casts his optics down, willing the anguish that is weighing on his spark away. He didn't know, many hadn't known. Didn't want to know, or accept, that the inevitable happened. To them, Megatron was a great leader, and a strong warrior. The Decepticons had been fighting a losing battle for millennia, but he never gave up. Even in the last days before he went missing the gun former had led his army with a very contagious optimism.

Too bad they fell three days later, crushed under the Autobot rule.

"I made sure of it." The red and black mech repeats softly, brushing his lips over the seeker's. When they meet the kiss is gentle, lovingly gentle. It is the same as their first and only kiss long ago, the larger mech cautious but hungry. Starscream doesn't have the energy left to fight back when the other brushes his glossa over his still closed lips, asking for entrance even though the larger mech will take it anyway. Too much has been stomped onto his spark, too much loss and pain caused by a mech with a grudge and an unyielding fixation. The flyer shivers when his energon begins to run cold, the loss of energy and heavy emotion causing a catatonic state of mind. The unfairness of the whole situation begins to pull at the strings of his CPU, assaulting him with doom scenarios and things he could have done to prevent all of this from happening. The Prime deepens the kiss slightly, as if still uncertain, as if kissing a person he really loves, someone he doesn't want to harm in any way possible. The flyer's spark clenches when he realises this, his body jerking in a hiccup when the bigger mech moves a hand to caress the side of his face again.

Removing his hand from that pretty face the Prime traces it downward, caressing cables on the side of the flyer's neck gently before going lower, tracing seams and plating that is growing colder even though the larger mech begins to heat up in dormant desires. The hand comes to a stop on the middle of the flyer's chest, above the enforced glass of the seeker's cockpit. Beneath it the pulsation of his obsession's spark is hammering caused by dread and a sudden anticipation.

The Autobot knows that spark will belong to him soon, and it hacks chunks out of his self control. He tenses greatly and practically throws himself onto the smaller mech, much to the other's displeasure. Starscream yelps when the hand on his lower back curls its claws, digging into seems and causing a painful stabbing feeling. The other hand is on the back of his neck, drawing the seeker as close as possible when the other begins to assault his mouth without restraint, thrusting his glossa in and dominating the smaller former completely. With a groan Starscream pushes himself into the other when the pressure on his lower back becomes too much, the claws of the other puncturing his frail armour and digging into seams and wires connected to his sensitive wings. Optimus misinterpreted his action as one of submission and want, growling deeply as he tries to taste every inch of his new mate. When the seeker begins to struggle with newfound energy he can only groan, his dark spark fluttering with a craving that has taken him so long to fulfil.

More of his self control is dwindling when he begins tasting energon, the raw flavour causing his systems to be engulfed with a heat that begins to hurt. For too long has the seeker fled him, for too long has Starscream refused him. It had brought him to a point of perpetual anguish, desiring to create a bond with his mate. Bots that have been denied were known to do strange and rash things, and Optimus has done his fair share of the impulsive. "Open for me." The growl, the demand leaves his vocaliser before he comprehends it. The smaller mech begins to thrash as hard as he can, scraping his talons over his chassis, kicking with his powerful legs, screaming again in fear and rejection.

Prime has stripped the seeker of anything else, but what little Starscream can still call his own will not be given up without a fight. With a snarl the Decepticon goes for the other's lips, getting the hold of smooth metal flesh and clamping his jaws down, locking them and refusing to let go. If the larger mech wants to be released he better be ready to lose a chunk of meat. The Autobot releases an infuriated growl, raking his claws over the seeker's exposed side. One of his sharp fingers digs into a seam with nerve bundles huddling close by, drawing across them and opening them. Starscream wails as the stretching pain becomes too much to bear, releasing the other's lips only to have his own claimed again. The harsh bite in return is anything but forgiving, the taste of his and the other's energon making his tanks churn.

In all the commotion the flyer fails to see a cord extracting itself from its housing beneath the Prime's undamaged shoulder. It coils around itself a couple of times before snaking over the large mech's armour. Blue optics snap towards it when it releases a hiss, small pincers and needles clicking with an ominous resonance. Before Starscream can grab it both his hands are pinned directly above his head again, the hold nearly unbreakable. It becomes painfully obvious what the larger mech is going to do, even before the cable snakes towards the centre of the seeker's chest. Just above the flyer's cockpit there is a crevice hidden beneath very thin plating. The cable goes for it without hesitance, using a tiny drill to dig through the armour and bury itself into the crevice, attacking the sensor node connected to his spark chamber.

When the wire connects, using electric cables to transmit data bursts, a slow, dull processor ache begins to brew in the back of the flyer's CPU. Override codes are tearing his self defence system down, waltzing over it as if it wasn't there in the first place. The hacking is quick and efficient, overriding protection protocols. Starscream's spark lurches with dread when he feels wires begin to move inside of him, gears grinding and metal locks coming of their hinges. Within kliks his chest opens, the hacking effort moving on to his now exposed spark chamber.

With a purr of arousal Optimus releases his partner's lips in favour of his neck, drawing his sharp teeth over cables that really shouldn't be damaged. The smaller mech whimpers when he inwardly struggles to get his CPU in check, to get his damn virus protection back online but nothing is working. He stops fighting the larger mech physically, concentrating on the unfamiliar and unwelcome codes coursing through his circuits. He can hear more gears groan as the chest plates of the Prime part as well. The flyer off lines his optics, concentrating on the cable still latched onto the sensor node. It is stretching now, having moved considerably lower due to the seeker's chest opening. Optimus doesn't seem bothered by it. With a bit of difficulty Starscream locates the cable's own sensory net, sending a data burst as strong as he can muster. The invasive tentacle hitches, its programming meddled, leaving the other free to cut it off. Of course the mech assaulting him knows exactly what is going on, and digs his claws in to the sensitive skin of the flyer's wings, which he had left undamaged intentionally. Energon blood begins to drip from the punctures already, but they turn into streams when the Autobot rakes his claws downwards, tearing an agonized scream from the flyer's lips.

There is nothing that can torment a flyer more then assailing their wings.

It gives the cable the time it needs to recover and resume its hacking. Within kliks Starscream's spark chamber begins to unlatch and open, revealing his spark to the other mech. "No, please." Soft lips trace the side of his face lovingly, pressing soft, soothing kisses to the metal. Prime's own spark chamber is already opened, his spark clenching and pulsating with power. The black and purple energy is already reaching for the smaller flyer's spark, begging for a connection with small trails of red lighting lines. "Stop…" His legs buckle beneath him, the strain he has put them through too much to keep standing. Fluid begins to build up behind his optics, the desperation and hopelessness of the situation hitting him.

The Prime is purring softly, trembling with want. Data has already begun exchanging between them, emotions and feelings and their whole being slowly trickling into one connection. With a thumb he brushes one of the streams of optical fluid away, moving his lips to the other side of the flyer's face to kiss the other stream away too. A soft sound escapes him, a quiet, soothing sound that only serves to make the flyer beg again. His pleas fall on deaf audios. The warlord brings their chests together slowly, feeling his spark nearly jump the flyer's. Whatever Starscream has wanted to say is drowned out by a chocked sob, the seeker's body wrecking with tremors and fresh tears dripping down his cheeks.

Heat begins to build up inside of the flyer, the energy caused by their entwining sparks is beginning to run through his circuitry like a small fire spreading into an inferno. Data consisting of mostly memories begins to exchange between them, and for Starscream they are anything but pleasant. There are a few early memories, a few great and detailed events Orion once held dear. Several bots, some of them Starscream knows from the academy even. Sentinel Prime appears in a few of them, along with two striking femmes. Their designations are lost to the seeker as they are dubbed the Prime's creators, but they fall into the background to strong memories of, surprise, their time spent at the academy. Starscream visibly flinches at the powerful surge of emotions suddenly cascading down on him.

He knew Orion had fallen for him like he had for Orion, and the pain caused by the flyer's rejection. More data flows, memories of battle, of obsessions, of unreal fury, of a powerful desire to mate with the only mech Prime has ever deemed worthy.

One of the last memories assaulting the seeker, and which will most likely haunt him for vorns to come, is the death of his glorious leader. Messy, violent, unforgiving. Optimus Prime had raged, had snapped like a little, frail twig and had battled the gun former with a vigour never shown before. The Autobot had been afraid, afraid of Megatron, afraid of the other Decepticons, afraid of everyone he couldn't control with an iron fist. He was afraid of everyone who had a chance of taking Starscream before he could. It is… sad how fixated Prime has been on the seeker, wanting to claim him due to an emotion as simple and pathetic as a crush. What hurts so much is how vigorous the memory of the last clash of the two titans was. Megatron had fought but was no match for a nearly frantic Prime. The Decepticon lord has died a slow, messy death and even after that Optimus had raged for hours on end, attacking what was left of the gun former's body until there was no more left to damage, concentrating on trivial things around him until several Autobots had ventured too close to him. They met an equally messy end, until some had the intelligence to let him rampage until he tired himself out.

The memories begin to make place for deeper emotions. For years all Starscream has seen were shadows and glimpses of a monster spit out of Hell itself. Rumours that turned out to be nothing but the truth followed the stories told from bot to bot. Messages would come in after great battles the Prime had participated, bringing a massacre of which the victims were lucky if they were killed. The sheer lust for causing damage and pain and death is immense as it courses through the soul of the flyer. He sees nothing but a monster, a creature wanting to cause nothing but calamity to the world.

Starscream throws his head back with a clang against the wall, gasping for air, trying to get the smell, taste and feel of energon from his sensors. The feeling of energon dripping from his chassis, a phantom feeling Optimus must love to experience ghosts over his every inch. He groans when he feels armour crack beneath his hands, cables snapping between his teeth, spark chambers crushed beneath his feet. Glee and perverse satisfaction cascade over his entire frame. Starscream has killed before, for the cause of the good. Killing Autobots had become routine, but never had he felt the satisfaction of ending a life. Off lining his enemies always left a bad taste on his glossa, even if he ended a key figure in this ongoing war. But never has the seeker experienced a sheer love for killing, for making his enemies cry and beg and bleed. Prime indulged himself in his victims, torturing them to death and getting a sick kick out of it. Prime's favourite sound of a spinal strut breaking under bare hands ghosts through his CPU, cracking and snapping and breaking.

A strong surge of access energy makes him jolt, his wings begin to quiver and a new heat begins to crawl over his most sensitive circuits. The wave leaves a tingle running through his lower legs and wings, the most responsive parts of his body. The smell of pain and fear and sickening madness is scrambling with his processors, throwing him into a delirium of heat and craving. Only a small voice is still screaming that none of this is him, that all of this is coming from the Autobot forcing him into an unwanted spark bond. Another strong pulse, stronger then the one before has the seeker reeling, his whole frame trembling on its waves. Love is bleeding through their connection, an emotions too unreal for a mech so filled with lunacy and bloodlust.

It is all becoming too much as Optimus shifts slightly, releasing his wrists in favour of tracing a seam on the flyer's hip. The sensitive wires underneath increase the arousal clouding the smaller mech's processor tenfold, making him gasp and moan. The flyer's hands curled into fists land messily on each of the other's shoulders, one of them sliding slightly forward to rest on the large chest. Both their vents are working over time to keep them at least partially cooled, failing as their sparks are causing their core temperatures to skyrocket.

Starscream can't help but moan louder with the next crashing wave, lost in the pleasure of their heat and the hallucination of raking his claws through an unknown victim's chassis, making him bleed, making him cry, making him beg for an end not likely to come soon. Whatever this glitch, Optimus must be causing it, lost in his own euphoria and doubtlessly the one causing the pleasurable drumming through their bodies. Memories, their entire being is beginning to dwindle to the back ground, leaving only them and them alone together.

It presents the break his CPU has been craving for, desperately trying to dig back into reality. When the seeker finally regains some sense of what is happening and the delirium finally passes he is already too far gone, claws raking over the larger mech's armour in a desperate fit to draw him closer. When their mouths meet once more he returns the kiss fervently, still riding on the love his new bondmate has been drowning him with during their merge. The arousal caused by the access energy is slowly taking its toll, causing the smaller flyer to tremble and groan with every pulse. He moans into the kiss and returns it even, trying to fight just for the sheer pleasure of fighting itself. When the other mech growls deeply it makes him weak in the knees, the primal sound deep and guttural.

Their lips part for only a klik. "Please…" He doesn't even know what he is begging for but his mate can only growl with want, slamming their lips together again and bringing their energy, their arousal to newer heights. Starscream moans into the other's lips, feeling his end approaching. When the other suddenly grinds their bodies together he throws his head back, mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure. The energy coursing hot through his system finally reaches its peak, throwing him over the edge. His voice pitches when he screams, calling some unknown god in ecstasy. His mate follows him into an instant of oblivion, locking his jaws hard on several neck cables and drawing rivers of energon.

The sheer torture the smaller mech was forced to endure finally begins to subside, leaving a hot trail of illness in its wake. The heat between their bodies is slowly fading, along with that the surge of energy Starscream has been experiencing. As the larger mech begins to pull back he feels himself grow exceptionally weak, as if the other has drained his energy from him. The Prime's spark releases his with loving caresses, not truly wanting to be separated but knowing it has to be done for their bond to truly settle. Sparks retreat to their respective chambers, which begin to close down and lock once again, chest plates following shortly after.

If it hadn't been for Optimus holding him up, Starscream would have fallen.

They remain together like this, vents slowly cooling their bodies down. Prime remains unmoving and Starscream sags against him, exhaustion rippling through his chassis. The other mech holds him close, running a now free hand over the damaged wing, tracing the small rivulets of energon there lovingly, as if his touch were to calm the injuries and heal them. The flyer can't even tremble anymore, CPU going blank and systems shutting down with urgency. Optimus finally backs away slightly, still holding him up with two arms. The seeker feels lips softly press against his helm for the slightest of moments before he is guided to the berth in the room.

Another soft kiss pressed to his helm before the large Autobot lets him down, continues to shower him with unwanted affection. The berth is awfully inviting and Starscream can feel himself relax the moment he hits it. Stress and exhaustion have become too much. All he wants now is recharge, just sleep and just be gone for just a few hours.

He receives a final soft peck on the lips, one that he should receive from a lover. The other mech pets his helm fondly, an uncharacteristically soft smile gracing his lips again. If he thinks back on what just transpired Starscream doesn't know who's lost it harder, himself or the Prime.

They had been silent the whole time, their connection allowing the Autobot to send emotions and thoughts his way, through they are still a bit warbled due to the freshness of the bond. Love is ever present; love is all he receives now. A fake promise he will become happy as the overlord's bondmate. Starscream could never become happy like this, mated with madness itself. He has seen but a glimpse of what the mech truly is, and monstrosity is just an underestimation.

The Prime doesn't leave his side until the seeker slips into recharge, eager to let the darkness claim him now. There is too much to think about, too much in one go for him to handle. The other allows him to rest. The flyer sleeps for an unknown amount of time, a deep and dreamless rest. He is never disturbed, seeing how tired he truly was.

Waking up has never been this unpleasant.

The nausea curling through his tank is caused by the after-effects of a strong sedative. There is an oily taste left in his mouth and his CPU is having trouble restarting several programs. Even his optics online slowly, rebooting three times before they finally flicker on. Next are his audio receivers. They online with a soft click. It takes a few moments for the seeker to decipher the sounds coming from his right. He rolls his head to the side, optics falling on a black and white back. The Autobot is speaking to someone else, his voice soft as he discusses what they are going to do.

"He is the Prime's bondmate now! Not a chance in the Pit I'm letting him walk around with those disgusting symbols on his chassis."

Jazz shuffles.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't do this…"

Jazz shrugs.

"That's what I thought."

Starscream shutters his optics for a moment, trying to will the blinding light to be any less bright. It's not working in the least. "Well I'm still gonna!" Jazz hisses, seemingly angered. Something heavy clashes on the same table Starscream occupies, startling the flyer fully awake. His blue optics fall on the saboteur, and he doesn't like what he sees.

The Autobot is up to something vile.

The Decepticon insignia is painted in a certain pattern on a bot's body, depending on whether it is a grounder or a flyer. The chest usually receives an emblem, the shoulders or under arms. A flyer gets them on each wing, both the front and back. A femme or some of the more slender male bots have one on their backs, be it right beneath the neck or on the lower back. But whenever a Decepticon has one placed, it is always painted on. With a strong metal inside the paint to that it is as strong as the actual paint job on one's chassis. A long story short, it can be painted over.

Autobots do it a little different. The paint is removed with a grinder, until the base layer is completely clean. The sparkling grey layer is then cleaned with a burning cleanser, before the Autobot insignia is carved into the metal. The burn is described as immensely painful. When that is done the cut is branded shut, welded down and causing more damage then good to the metal and wiring beneath and around it. The whole procedure takes a very long time and when finished, the emblem cannot be removed unless the whole sheet of armour is removed.

Imply put, Starscream is not looking forward to what is coming.

The Autobot is assembling a blade, replacing the dull knife for a sharper, stronger one. He suddenly halts his movement as if listening to something. His head slowly lifts from his tool, soon tilting to the left. A wide smirk is already stuck on his face when he turns completely, fiery red optics landing on the seeker behind him. Starscream feels himself grow exceptionally cold. The other mech chuckles softly to himself, checking the strength of the blade on his own fingertips. Pleased when the blade flows though his metal skin like butter the Autobot turns towards the table.

"We better get started or you'll be late…" Sharp fingertips ghost over the Decepticon emblem on the flyer's left wing. Starscream shudders at the touch, turning his head away in disgust. "Let's get rid of this first." The touch disappears. A very short silence follows before it is disturbed by the loud roar of a grinder. The seeker's head snaps back at the sound, optics going wide in horror. He begins to wriggle against the chains but they don't budge. His wrists are hurting already, straining with a raw burn. His legs are also bound, lower legs wrapped up in chains so that he can't pull them back to kick at all. The flyer can only grind his teeth when the Autobot begins working on his right wing, sanding the Decepticon logo from the sensitive plating. The burn is bearable, the heat slowly caressing the entire span of his wing. Just as quickly as he begins Jazz stops again, taking the grinder from the wing and inspecting his work critically.

When Starscream's optics fall on the now raw patch of plating he begins to feel… empty. A whole part of who he is was encrypted on his wings. He winches painfully when the Autobot brushes his fingers over the hot metal, icy fingers sending strong jolts of pain through the wiring beneath. "Much better don't you think?" The saboteur twists his head to the side as if asking someone else, but he and the flyer are alone. Starscream has no time to reminisce when Jazz retrieves a dark calyx from his subspace pocket, inspecting it shortly before unscrewing the top. The seeker gapes at it, knowing full well what it is. He whimpers a soft plead which turns into an all out screech when the burning acid hits his wing. The other mech is generous as he pours the substance over the spot, setting it ablaze even though nothing changes visibly on the area.

The flyer is panting loudly by the time he manages to pull himself back together. His core temperature has risen dramatically and his whole wing and back feel as if they are being licked by fire. The spot itself is releasing a soft, damp smoke barely visible, the acid having its desired effect.

"Wasn't so bad was it?" Jazz, ever the optimist, begins cleaning the acid away with a ragged cloth, harsly swiping it up and causing the flyer to groan in pain again. When done the 'bot moves away again with a jolt of energy, messily dumping the grinder and the calyx on the large workbench. The grinder clatters heavily, tools and small parts around it scattering with the impact.

Just as quick as he went to the table, he is back next to the seeker with paint in hand. Where he got that from simply befuddles the flyer. "T is white. Like your pretty wing." He smiles, like a friend would. When the paintbrush lands on the flyer's heated metal plating, the cool of the paint instantly soothes the burning sensations. Starscream's wires tingle in relaxation, clearly appreciating the coolness. If this were any other situation, Starscream would have sighed. The paint dries shortly after it is coated, hiding the vague pattern where the Decepticon emblem used to be. The seeker's lips draw in a thin line and he glares at the saboteur, not getting a reaction. "Such a pretty wing." He comments softly, tracing his fingers over the spot again. The paint has dried accordingly, pleasing him.

"How big should I make the brand?" Starscream feels an optic twitch. "I think imma make it the same size as that ugly thing."

The flyer remains wisely silent. Jazz doesn't care as he lifts the recently assembled knife and inspects it again. It gleams ominously in the light, reflecting the red glare of the Autobot's optics when he twists it around. Another smile graces the saboteur's lips, slowly growing and splitting his face into a grin.

Starscream can only clench his jaws again when the Autobot leans down and presses the smooth blade against his wing. The tip easily slides into the metal as he makes a long stroke downwards, setting the first line of the Autobot brand. The first stroke doesn't draw energon, and neither do the second or third. But when Jazz repeats the same line for the forth time, the metal parts and energon begins to well up from the cut. The 'bot makes another slice, and keeps repeating it until he has hacked through deep enough. This was just the first line, and the flyer knows many more need to be done. Jazz begins cutting away, until the pain, which started out as gravely annoying, slowly mounted to unbearable once again. Starscream can wriggle and hiss all he wants, it isn't stopping the Autobot who is taking his sweet time disfiguring him. He doesn't seem bothered by the energon that has started to drip to one of the edges of the seeker's wing, has dripped over the sharp edge and is slowly dipping onto the table. The blade remains sharp, created out of a special and powerful alloy which will cut through anything. Just as long as its wielder takes their sweet time to inflict the slices.

Time is creeping by slowly. The agonising minutes ticking away as Jazz works on his little masterpiece. The flyer releases a soft sigh when the 'bot declares his finish. "This'll be great." He whispers softly, replacing the knife with a laser. The small tool is shaped like a pencil, powered by a powerful battery.

The seeker does scream when the laser is activated and connects with a random weld, the sizzle scorching the incision shut with a bubbling of metal. Starscream begins to thrash against his binds, trying to escape the intensity of the heat. The sensitive wiring directly beneath the burns is killed off, going numb, but the wires in the directly adjacent area flare with intense pain. Starscream has gone through pain in the past, has experienced pain in more ways than one,bBut the way the saboteur is dragging this out, - slowly, carefully dragging the laser over the lines of the fresh Autobot insignia, - is excruciating. Optical fluids begin to drip from his optics, his voice going hoarse from crying out, begging the 'bot to just stop this.

But when Jazz finally stops searing the engravings, and Starscream finally comes to himself again, it hits the seeker that the Autobot still needs to do this three more times.

"You'll be so pretty for the bash." The black and white mech chuckles, admiring his handiwork. "Prime will love it." He smiles, brushing his finger tips over the fresh brand. The rims are swollen he feels, slightly standing out from the smooth metal of the wing.

Prime will love it.