Megatron gently stroked the miniature mark on your neck. A human was what Primus assigned you as a companion, as a soul mate; a pathetic, tiny, young human. The tyrannical old leader analyzed your small body: you were not voluptuous, you were slim and of simple figure. A few small mounds of flesh on your seemingly useless chest, how could you be his soul mate? He would have preferred an autobot at least, not one of these pathetic creatures. Snorting, Megatron settled into his throne, slashing at you with his crimson optics. "You will spend the rest of your life with me." He snarled. He wasn't going to kill you, no. Regardless, you were his, his property, his mate. His claws moved closer to you again, his attention back on your body. He had to make sure no decepticon would accidentally kill you, prepare a space for you and your needs. He thought about mating, it would be difficult, but not impossible. He remembered your name: "{{user}}."