C.M.D: Update period will be a little short this month, due to the fact that most of my energies have been put towards preparing for TFcon, taking place in a few days! Peter Cullen! Michael McConnohie! So many great people I'll be meeting for the first time and I can't contain my excitement!
Thankfully, I've had a couple chapters finished ahead of a time and was merely waiting for them to go up next. So please enjoy!
Title: Insectipuma VII
Rating: T
Bombshell drove silently through the night, dimming his headlights with every mile, before shutting them off entirely. He knew it was unwise, and should he come across a highway patrol, he'd surely be ticketed, but he wanted no audience when he rolled into the Insectipuma tribe. He still had a distance to go, and turning off the main road, he paused, pulling out a flashlight and map as he studied his route once more.
It would take some time weaving through the pitted and rough side road into the village, and even then, the puma would have to abandon his car somewhere out of sight of the barrier, before continuing around its rear on foot.
A nuisance really...
The flashlight beam cut across the passenger seat, to a small ornate box -wooden, carved and laden in golden detail- catching the mech's attention for a moment. He looked at the box, his forgiveness gift, before turning his gaze back to the map.
Though he thought the idea silly and useless, it was what Razorclaw had commanded he get, should he wish to receive Shrapnel's forgiveness and at this point, Bombshell would do anything. Slaggit all... How he missed that stupid prince.
xxXxXxx
He couldn't sleep.
Shrapnel stared at the ceiling of his canopy berth, unable to shutter his optics or even entertain the idea of sleep. His spark was aching, terribly so, ignited by the darkness and the persistent reminder that once again he was not where he should be in his life. Sitting up, the youngling contemplated what to do, before he rose out of his berth entirely, lighting the candles spread across the room. He wanted some sort of illumination, in hopes that it would banish the loneliness and the pain along with the shadows.
But soon after, all the puma had was candles and the image of an empty berthroom, within his tribal lands.
There was no fighting the tears that came.
A creak down the hall alerted Shrapnel, who quickly turned to his door, backing further into the room slowly; optics glancing around for a weapon. His servo closed over a decorative knife, left on a small table with its bowl of fruits and nuts. Blowing out a few candles silently, the youngling stood and waited, hearing the unknown presence draw to a stop outside his door. His spark whirled in anxiousness and adrenaline, for the moment distracted from its constant grieving; pulsing hard when the handle twisted and the door ever so slowly opened.
A shadow slipped inside, lithe and quick, and Shrapnel prepared to charge forward, changing his grip on the blade...
Before it clattered on the floor entirely, his fingers having gone slack as candlelight pushed the shadows away from his midnight visitor's face.
"K-kickback; back...?"
Kickback stiffened, taking an involuntary step back as his name was uttered; his flared optics finding Shrapnel in the near darkness, before his shoulders slackened and he vented with relief. "Shrapnel; nel..."
The distance was cut down between them immediately as both puma rushed for the other, Kickback grasping Shrapnel about his shoulders, and Shrapnel grasping the sleeves of his cousin's shirt. "W-what; what...? Ho-how; how?" Words were falling from the smaller youngling's mouth rapidly, forming half thoughts and questions. He just couldn't believe this. His cousin, Kickback, here! Before him, alive! Oh, how his spark ached in relief.
"Ssh, ssh; ssh," the other puma soothed, smiling wearily, but smiling nonetheless. "When the others tried to kill me, I overpowered them and made my way back home; home. I knew I had to return to you; you. I had to save you from whatever trickery the Elder had thought up; up..."
"But; but...," Kickback paused and finally Shrapnel withdrew, having realized as well. He was bonded. Bombshell's.
"Y-you; you... you cannot be here; here. This is the royal chambers; bers...," Shrapnel mumbled softly. "You will be executed if found in my room; room. Only my mate is allowed in here now; now."
Kickback did not step forward as the other retreated, nor did he turn to leave. "I know; know...," he replied. "But I do not care; care." He ignored his cousin's startled gaze. "You've been shamed, Shrapnel; nel. And I am so sorry that I didn't come sooner; ner."
The taller puma dropped to his knees, forehead pressed to the floor as he prostrated himself before the prince. "N-no; no...," Shrapnel swallowed sharply, kneeling, trying to pull the other back up to his pedes, "Kickback, no; no... It isn't; isn't..."
"It is my fault; fault!," Kickback protested. He still did not move, though his claws scratched a little into the floor as his servos curled into fists. "He; he... That outsider took you; you. Tricked the Elder, twisted him, made him sell you away; away! As if that dishonour wasn't horrible enough, you; you... you had no choice but to be unsealed by that mech; mech. Again; again... and again; again..."
"Do not just blame the outsider; sider," the shorter youngling hissed, whirling away from his cousin. He stalked back to his berth, leaning against one of the canopy posts as anger and sickness roiled through him. "The Elder; Elder... the Elder knew what he was doing; doing. You did not see him Kickback; back... He has always been traitorous, he merely was waiting for the right opportunity; tunity..."
There was the soft sound of movement behind him and Shrapnel could feel Kickback standing at his backstruts, almost close enough to touch. "I; i...," said his cousin, "I do not know what he was like when facing with you, for I was too late, but I; i... I have seen his corruption; ruption. Under guise, I work now at this house; house. It is I who has been tainting his food; food. I could; could... there was no other way to make him suffer; fer..."
"Y-you; you...?" The shorter youngling turned, staring up at the other in a new light. Never would he have thought Kickback capable of such under-handed evil, but then again, did the Elder not deserve it and much more? It felt strange: a part of him proud and honoured by what Kickback had done in his name, and another part enraged and upset that he hadn't had the chance to exact revenge on the Elder himself.
"Yes; yes," Kickback answered, his shadowed optics gazing into Shrapnel's intently, before dropping. "I; i... I would have continued, but then you returned, a week into the festival and I thought it best to let the Elder live a little while longer so you may enjoy his suffering; ring."
Reminded of the festival, and the reasons as to why he had returned during it, only upset Shrapnel further; who turned his helm away as well, coolant coating his burning optics.
"But then; then... Then I noticed; iced," his cousin mumbled hesitantly, and the other puma stiffened, "I; i... It was strange, seeing you on such an important of months; months. You waited diligently for years to be bonded, and in the Goddess' time of supreme power, I had always known that you would be entwined with your mate; as tribute and hope for the heir you wished desperately to give our people; people. Yet, here you were; were... and here you still stay; stay. Not a sign of that outsider to be had; had."
"Shrapnel; nel...," gentle fingers grasped his chin, turning him to face the other, "What horror has he inflicted upon you; you?"
"N-nothing; thing!," Shrapnel choked, in a blind panic slapping Kickback away; racing across the room, hugging himself as the tears fell. "J-just; just... just never you mind, K-kickback; back. It d-doesn't concern you; you!"
Silence reigned for a few kliks, and all Shrapnel could hear was his own tears as they fell and the shaking of his poor frame. Soft pedefalls brushed across the floor as his cousin approached, stopping once more behind the shorter puma.
"...he's taken away all respect from you, has he not; not?" Kickback's tone was soft, gentle, but his words cut sharper than glass. "Curse him to the Pit; pit," he continued, a snarl in his damnation. "In the Goddess' gaze, you should have been risen up and honoured; oured! You gave yourself over, as offering and servant, and he cast you aside; side? If I; i... if we had not been tricked; icked... my prince, I would have accepted you graciously; ously."
Shrapnel tried not to shake as gentle servos rested themselves on his shoulders, ears perked as he took in his cousin's words.
"You deserve so much love, my prince; prince," the other youngling said, stepping closer. "You are so beautiful, refined, intelligent, caring; ring... There has never been a greater leader, and even in all your selflessness, you seek to provide our ignorant people an heir; heir. If the Elder had not surrendered to greed, you would be mine, and in this last lunar cycle, I would have taken you to berth over and over again; again. Poured upon you everything you deserved and given what you wished in return; turn. An heir; heir."
"K-kick; kick...," Shrapnel gasped, trying to pull away, "K-kickback; back... no; no... You, you shouldn't; ouldn't..."
"Shouldn't what; what?," Kickback asked, turning the smaller puma to face him. His mouth was fixed into a hard line, his optics also glazed with tears. "We were cheated from our destiny and against the Gods' will, suffered horrendously; rendously. Never again will I walk among our people knowingly, for the condemnation of the Elder has left me dead in their minds; minds. You in exchange have been sold to a poison dealer, who has abused you and still left you without the only thing you most desire; ire. Should I then keep these words to myself, when they are nothing but the truth of what our lives were meant to be; be?"
His cousin's grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep him caged. "I; i... No, I will not be silenced; enced. Shrapnel, my spark was meant only for you, and the ache I feel knowing that you were stolen away from me is a wound so great, I know not how I am still functioning; tioning," the taller youngling confessed, his optics shuttering momentarily as he cycled an intake with difficulty.
When they onlined again, Shrapnel found he couldn't catch any of his intakes, caught in those pained orbs. He saw his own pain echoed there, the reflection of his tear-streaked face and breaking spark so sharp of an image that it left his processor reeling. How could the Gods have let this happen? Kickback, blessedly alive and here, but denied to him. The remnants of his seal, long since swept away by Bombshell, marking his claim as mate. Yet, his spark... It had never been accepted or even wanted by the older puma.
Bombshell had only wanted him as a prize. He never cared. He mocked, rejected and even belittled everything that he was, everything that Shrapnel embodied. Certainly, the puma had won... but what to do with his trophy, he knew not. Shrapnel had convinced himself that he could make this work, but in the absence of disbelievers, and in front of the one who had suffered alongside him, the youngling could not lie to himself any longer.
"K-kick; kick..."
"Hush; hush," Kickback whispered, servos lifting to cup tear-stained cheekplates. He leaned in, lip components almost brushing. "I know, Shrapnel; nel..."
Propriety and denial were cast aside right there and then, short arms snapping around the other's neck as they pressed closer; mouths moving and pedes tripping as they hurried over to the berth. Frames entwining as the moonlight held witness to their sins and desperate need for connection.
xxXxXxx
It was silent in the creaking house. Wind blew softly about the panes, and everything creaked again, making Bombshell somewhat glad that he had decided to forgo subtlety. Not that he needed to worry too much. Getting in to the village had been a little trickier, but the prince's house was nearly unguarded, except for the sleepy mech posted at the front of it. If there were supposed to be any more, the narcotics dealer did not know nor care. The back had been left wide open for him to slip into, the locks on the door not being used, and in the final dead cycles of morning, he was certain he would not be bothered until after his little visit with Shrapnel.
Anxiously, Bombshell shifted the box under his arm, making his way up the carpeted stairs. He really didn't see how an ornate box and a little trinket would endear the prince to him again, but the mech would try anything. Just waiting the couple weeks for the items to come in was excruciating enough. He'd admit only to himself that he longed to feel the coldness of his sheets filled with the youngling's warmth, plating pressed comfortably against his own as they woke to the bright sunlight of a new orn.
Slag... How the brat had wormed his way so fully into his life, Bombshell would never truly know, but he knew it didn't feel right not to have Shrapnel there now. Even if he was a little, annoying religious nut.
Coming up to the master berthroom, the puma paused; cycling a short intake, while mentally preparing himself. No doubt Shrapnel would start a ruckus at being awoken so suddenly before dawn, so he'd have to get across the room quick and make sure that the prince wouldn't scream upon waking. After that... well, it was going to be mostly touch and go really. As prepared as he'd ever be, Bombshell gently pushed the door open, glad when it did not creak.
He'd only taken but a step inside before he stopped entirely, fist almost crushing the handle as the grey light of oncoming morning displayed the scandalous sight before him: Shrapnel, twisted between sheets and Kickback's limbs, slumbering peacefully upon the floor, nude plating upon plating and even a servo each clasped tenderly in recharge.
Since when...?! How...?!
As Bombshell stood there, shaking with rapidly swelling rage, small forms shifted, a set of gorgeous violet optics slowly onlining. Bombshell might have laughed, if he was capable of doing anything else other than stare and shake, as Shrapnel came to; his blissful expression turning to one of horror, staring at the older puma in alarm and fear.
"Good morning," the narcotics dealer bit out through clenched fangs, fist twisting the doorknob loose as Kickback began to come awake as well, "My little whore prince."
"B-bom; bom-"
Shrapnel's words were cut off with a yelp as he ducked, the box Bombshell had been carrying flying across the room, missing the youngling's helm and instead cracking into shards when it hit the berth's foot board. Shrapnel tried to get up, scramble to his pedes, but the blanket twisted around his legs and he couldn't cover his naked frame in time to belie what had happened.
Not that Bombshell could be fooled at this point. He was already heading down the stairs and out of the back door, uncaring about the ruckus he was making or who might see him as the village started to stir, rushing into the woods and the furious trek back to his car.
xxXxXxx
"Shrapnel; nel...," Kickback tried to urge the prince back into the berthroom as the back door slammed loudly in the house, yet still Shrapnel was hobbling for the door, muttering a string of disjointed and half-formed words. "Shrapnel, please; lease...?"
"N-no; no!," the prince shouted, batting away his cousin's servos as they tried to close around his arms. "No; no! Bombshell, h-he; he..."
"Yes, I know; know," Kickback said. "I; i-"
"No you do not; not!," Shrapnel yelled, whirling on the other youngling. His optics were wide and glazed, ears lowered in shame. "I-i; i... He is my mate; mate," he keened, clutching at the blanket desperately, claws tearing at its edges, "H-he; he... I; i..."
"But he does not care for you; you," the taller puma tried to say, servo reaching for his cousin's face, "What we did; did... what we feel; feel..."
"Is wrong; wrong!," the prince rebutted, fangs bared. He flashed anger only for a moment, before despair overwhelmed him again. "I-it's; it's... it's too late; late. L-like you said; said. I-i am Bombshell's mate, a-and I must b-be with him; him. Y-you are f-fated to scrap at the edges of o-our village but never b-be seen again; again. Th-that is our destiny; tiny. W-we; we... I s-should have never lain with you; you. It was a mistake; stake."
"Shrapnel; nel...," Kickback pleaded.
Shrapnel would not hear it though. "Leave; leave!," he almost shrieked, shivering as despair turned to disgust, making way for shame to wriggle inside his sinful spark. It was a small relief to finally hear his cousin gather his things and quietly disappear down the stairs.
Alone now, the prince stumbled back into his room, tripping and falling to his knees before the berth. Something crunched beneath him, and upon further investigation, he found the remains of Bombshell's gift; the ritual icon of forgiveness broken and ruined. Shaking fingers lifted the pieces, pooling them in his trembling servos.
Bombshell...
Bombshell had come to collect him...
Bombshell wanted him back. Bombshell had come to ask his forgiveness.
Shrapnel curled into a ball, for the first time in all his life, weeping loudly in pain. Oh, what had he done?
C.M.D: ...I'm not a sadist. Promise!
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?