Emptiness Machine
Author note: y’all have patiently waited for juicy interactions between Starscream and reader and now next chapter we will have one! :3 I am so excited. Anyway here’s the next chapter.
‘Where is it? where is it?’ Starscream thought as he dug frantically through a drawer in his habisuite. His wing hung painfully by the few lines that Megatron didn’t rupture in his anger. His frame was wet with energon as he searched for his stash of medical supplies. This was one of Megatron’s worst tempers yet. Usually Megatron let him free with only minor injuries. Something to keep the bots under his command afraid of him. This time he made Starscream an example. Taking his time and making a show of humiliating Starscream in front of his subordinates. He bared his denta in fury and agony as he thought about what he would do if he could fight back. If those imbeciles didn’t respect and fear their leader so much, if they wouldn’t turn on him if he stood up to Megatron. He wanted their respect and their loyalty just as much as he wanted to lead them. Though he wouldn’t lead them with falsehoods and intimidation as the warlord saw fit to.
Throwing the drawer aside that he’d emptied searching for an energon patch, he looks around frantically. There must be something he could use to stabilize his wounds. He’d planned for this, stolen medical supplies so he could take care of this himself. He didn’t need anyone else. Especially those mindless idiots who idolized that brute of a warlord. The first time something like this happened, he was refused help at the makeshift med bay. Hook locked the door on him, shaking his helm and telling him it was Megatron who ordered him to refuse to aid the injured seeker. He started taking supplies for himself then. Finding ways to treat his own injuries.
Finally in the last drawer he found it. A single energon patch and several welding rods. He could use an old polishing cloth as a line clamp if necessary. The wound in his side pulsed with pain as he applied the patch. Gritting his denta in pain, he activated the patch and it pulsed to life. Immediately he felt the numbing relief of the infusion. Medical grade energon was hard to come by these cycles. All mining efforts were redirected to the production of the synthetic energon used in the production of drones. Another one of Megatron’s plans that Starscream sneered at. He knew way too much of his leader’s attention was in the wrong place. Thats why the war had gone on so long. His priorities were backwards. Focusing on the power he gained and not the mechs he had under his command. Starscream knew he’d be a better leader. But Megatron made sure no one would respect him. They’d see him as a coward.
For a moment he just sat there on the edge of his berth. The nerve sensors in his injured wing had been so heavily damaged that they had all but gone numb. Taking a deep vent in he leaned forward and rested his helm on his fist. Balefully he stared down at his peds. Was this what he’d been reduced to? Cowering and taking the blame for something he wasn’t responsible for? It hadn’t always been like this. Before the energon on cybertron ran out, before the discovery of the thirteen worlds, he was respected. Megatron shared his plans and knowledge with him. Trusted him with important duties as his second in command. He gave him honor and encouragement. This was altogether different. A desperate Megatron who had begun to go mad with grief over a world lost.
Energon still leaked from his torn wing, dripping into a small puddle at his peds. It shook him from his spiraling thoughts as it ran sluggishly down the plating of his servo. His vision started to blur and he knew he’d have to at least temporarily patch up his wing before he bled out. Standing on unsteady peds, he limped over to his desk and grabbed the welding iron. The few rods he had would be enough but it would be hard to reach it on his own. His pride had broken most of the relationships he had with other bots on the Nemesis. Even his own trine had distanced themselves from him as he took out his anger at Megatron on everyone around him.
Taking a deep vent in against the inevitable pain and balling his servo into a fist, he sent it into the wall. A shout of frustration escaped his intake to hide the despair that welled up in his optics. Ignoring the aching, self inflicted, loneliness in his spark; he loaded the rods into the welding iron and set his wing as best he could. White hot pain seared through him and he bit back a groan as the iron touched his injured mesh. He clenched his denta and screwed his optics shut as he welded the torn joint back together in a crude line. It was grotesque looking to say the least. At least he wasn’t leaking energon anymore. One of his shoulder joints was strained and he had a few other minor injuries that his nanites would eventually take care of. Setting down the iron he gripped the edge of his desk and tried to control the shaking in his limbs. All this pain and for what?
Suddenly the walls of his habisuite felt confining. He had to get out of there. Go somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t here. Perhaps a flight would do him some good. There was something beautiful and peaceful about this miserable planet. He turned and stalked out through the sliding door and past several drones who watched him with emotionless faceplates. He pushed past a trio of constructicons who wouldn’t look him in the optics. Whispering amongst themselves as he tried his very best to hold his injured wing just as high as the other. Finally making it to the flight deck, he transformed and took off. Going nowhere in particular, just away from the Nemesis.
•••
You sat with your legs dangling off of the medical slab listening to Dr. Antonov as he explained the life support apparatus he was installing in your cockpit. Bee, who had somehow pushed his way into the med bay past Ratchet, looked on with a worried expression. Looking down at the limp form resting in your chassis, you couldn’t blame him. By all appearances your body was dead. All ashen features and lifeless limbs. You looked peaceful, the only thing that gave any sign of life was the occasional twitch of an eye or a digit. These were signs of a strong connection to your machine. Dr. Antonov finishes hooking up a milky looking bag and needle to the inside of your arm and mech. Looking up at you with a furrowed brow, he speaks.
“Seraphim. These, I am adding to keep your body alive. This nutrient IV drip will supplement the energon infusion and keep your body functioning. This is temporary just until I figure out how to disconnect you safely. Remember this is your body. Take care of it and don’t forget who you are in this time you are stuck.”
You nod solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation and how easy it would be to forget you weren’t Cybertronian. You had already struggled in the past with separation from your mech and now you were permanently fused with it. At least until the good doctor found a way to get you out. The realization that this could very well kill you set in like a heavy fog over your form. Dr. Antonov nods and steps back. Giving you permission to leave if you wanted to. Taking a deep vent in and closing your cockpit around the vulnerable body within, you stand.
“I’m…going on patrol. I’ll be back later ok. You’ve got my location. Comm if you need anything.”
Turning to leave without looking at Bumblebee, even as he started to protest, you make your way through the sliding door of the med bay. The doctor raises his hand as if to silence the yellow scout.
“It’s better if she figures this out on her own.”
Outside the bay, several of the others were out on patrol. You pass Michael, who gives you a sympathetic look but doesn’t speak. Standing next to his mech on one of the many platforms surrounding it. The Autobot base and base of operations for Project Archangel was situated in a remote mountainous location. Far away from the prying eyes of Decepticons and humans alike. It was peaceful and as the bay doors opened to let you out, the cool breeze hit your faceplate and grounded you in reality. The lake a few miles below was quiet and tranquil. A perfect spot to sit and think. A deck officer offered you a ground bridge to wherever you wanted to go. You politely declined, just wanting to walk for a bit and think.
This area of the world was a protected wildlife preserve. One of monumental significance to earth. The trees were dwarfed even Michael’s heavy mech. It always made you feel small in a humbling way. As if your problems were just a tiny ripple in the vast ocean of the universe. It was comforting in a way. The musty smell of damp leaves and fresh scent of evergreen drifted past as you tread along the forest. The gaps between the massive trees were plenty large enough to allow for your Cybertronian-like frame. It wasn’t long until you reached the edge of the lake. A soft breeze fell over its surface, disturbing the perfect mirror that reflected the afternoon sky. Settling yourself among the rocks, you let the sunlight hit your faceplate and silently thank Dr. Antonov for the addition of nerve sensors so you could still experience warmth.
Thinking of warmth made you recall the feeling of warm servos on your frame as the Decepticon communications officer carried you to the holding cell. Why had they been described with such hate by the Autobots? Weren’t they all the same species? They hadn’t killed you. Just mishandled you out of ignorance. At least the ones beneath the ruthless warlord. You shuddered at the memory of being in Megatron’s grasp. His cold and indifferent optics focused on your helpless form.
A sound from above rattles you out of your thoughts. The scream of jet engines. It wasn’t uncommon to hear near the base as two of the Autobots were flight frames. But this didn’t sound like either of them. You focus your optics and catch a glimpse of a startlingly familiar color scheme. Red, white and blue with hints of grey and an orange cockpit. What was the second in command of the Decepticons doing here? Looking closer you saw a worrying trail of black smoke from one of his wings. Maybe he was chased all the way out here by an Autobot patrol? You didn’t see anyone in pursuit when you scanned the horizon. Watching as he landed clumsily to your left and transformed. His face a mask of pain that told you he was in fact injured. Limping forward, he lowered himself heavily to his knees at the waters edge. This was something you had to investigate for yourself.
Christmas is coming! Have a logical Christmas
Emptiness Machine
Author notes: thanks again for being patient with me. Still going through it but here is the chapter I was most excited for 🙊 (also I don’t know how actual welding works just go with it.) enjoy!
The setting sun cast long eerie shadows before Starscream moved visibly again. You had settled yourself about ten yards away from his kneeling form. He just sat there motionless. Every once in a while you’d see a wing twitch, hear a muffled murmur from him. Other than these small signs of life, he was utterly still, seemingly made of stone. You hadn’t announced yourself and it was easy enough to sneak up close to him when he first landed. You’d had ample time to study his frame. From the looks of it, he’d suffered a great deal. Could have been from the battle, but after he ran off into the smoke you hadn’t seen him again. You wondered who, besides Optimus, had the strength to deal such wounds.
A wound in his side was covered by a familiar energon patch. It’s light pulsing indicated it was still working on drawing the nanites closer to the injury. This meant the patch had been applied not too long ago. His wing hung at an odd angle at his back. Your optics focused on the crude welding job and you winced. It looked as if someone had done it with a non dominant hand. Were the Decepticon medics that terrible at welding jobs? You look down at your own chest plate and the welds, still fresh, that adorned it. No they were neat and clean. This looked as if he’d done it himself. Though that would be foolish wouldn’t it? Isn’t that dangerous?
The more you looked at him, the more you wondered what the hell happened to him. There was scraped paint along several dents that looked like it could have come from the hallways of the Nemesis. You leaned forward a bit trying to see better.
A quick slip of your servo on the damp trunk of a tree suddenly unbalanced you. The sudden movement made a sickening crunch that echoed off the clear water. The next few clicks reminded you exactly why Starscream was second in command of the entire Decepticon army. As soon as the sound reached his audials, he’d spun around and taken several steps in your direction. His posture was that of a mech who was immediately ready to take on a serious threat. Frame stiff and weapons powering up as he raised them. The dual null ray blasters mounted on his forearms were trained in the direction of the sound. His optics narrowed as he scanned the thick vegetation that hid your crouching form.
“Show yourself!” He spat, stalking forward a few paces.
You don’t make a move but instead call out to him from your prone position. “You look worse for ware. The Autobots give you a run for your money?”
Recognition flashed in his optics and his blasters lowered just a fraction. He hadn’t quite pinned down exactly where you were yet. In the waning light you could make out the faint glow of his biolights. Yours would soon make you visible amongst the foliage. It was better to stand up now and reveal yourself before he had a chance to find you. You moved, rustling the fallen leaves beneath you. There was a risk associated with trusting him not to blow your helm off. With the care he and the communications officer had shown you, there was a sense that he would hear you out.
“Listen. I’m going to stand up now. You know I don’t possess weapons on my frame. I’m unarmed.” You say clear enough to be heard.
Rolling from your back onto your belly, you slowly get to your peds. Palms out to show you don’t have anything with which to fight back. His optics found and trained you with a cold stare.
“Is it a habit of yours to patrol unarmed? Those damn fools can’t even train a proper army.” He grumbled almost quiet enough that you didn’t hear.
He vented in exasperation, though he didn’t lower his weapons as you stepped out from behind the foliage that had previously hidden you. You shook a ped to get rid of the loose leaves that covered it. The damp smell of moss and loam covered your frame and you were suddenly glad for the fact that your mech was an earthier color. Disguising the smears of earth from your clumsiness earlier. Your optics fell on his damaged wing once more. It trembled slightly as he tried to hold it at the same height as his uninjured one.
“Did one of us do that to you?” You asked, gesturing with your chin towards his injured wing.
“As if an Autobot could inflict such injures on me.” He scoffed and flicked his uninjured wing in annoyance.
Though he quickly realized his error in ruling out the Autobots as the source of his injures. That left only one mech who could have inflicted those injuries. You slowly reach up to flick your visor out of the way, exposing your golden optics. The battle mask you usually wore retracted, allowing him to see the serious expression on your faceplate. His optics widened ever so slightly. He didn’t know what to expect when he saw what was under that mask but it wasn’t something that was as close to a real Cybertronian femme as he had seen in eons.
Cybertronian femmes were rare during the war, most of them fled off world and met horrible fates or disappeared without a trace. The rest joined the Autobot cause, with a few frighteningly unstable exceptions. His gaze lingered on the frown that was set in the malleable metal mesh of your faceplate. How the humans were able to come up with technology like this was beyond him. Though it sent an uncomfortable shiver up his spinal strut. It was unnerving. He started when you finally spoke again.
“Then it must have been Megatron. I’m not deaf. I heard him threaten you.” Speaking so boldly was also a risk but you had to know. Something about the way he held himself. The way he had tried to get you away from that awful scientist back on the Nemesis. You felt like you owed him your life. An uncomfortable feeling when it came from the enemy.
His lip twitched and he refused to answer. Instead choosing to deflect the question with one of his own. “What the scrap are you doing out here in the woods alone. You were in bad shape when I last saw you.” His voice was harsh and there was a staticky edge to it. Perhaps a nervous tell.
“I could ask the same of you. I thought Decepticons didn’t venture to the surface. Something about it being ‘contaminated by the native life’ or something.” You almost smiled at the affronted look he gave you.
As if he, the second in command of the Decepticon army would be scared of a few squishy humans. Slowly, you reach into a compartment on your side that contained a field medical kit. Inside you knew you had at least a couple of welding rods and a field welding torch.
“If you want, I could help you with the welding on your wing. You are still leaking energon. It couldn’t have felt good to fly like that.”
Extending your servo with the tools, you try to look as sympathetic as possible. “You helped me. I’m still functioning because of you and I owe you for that.” You splay your free servo over the chest of your mech. Over the tiny body hidden inside.
He looked at you with a mix of disgust and offense at the mere thought of your human made servos on his wing. He sputtered trying to get the words out for a moment. His vocalizer betraying him. You held up a hand and that silenced him surprisingly. “Please let me do this. We’d be even. They have no idea you tried to help me.”
Starscream’s curiosity was the only thing that made him slowly close his intake and nod. His denta set as he slowly lowered his weapons. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make the flight back to the nemesis without help. This was the first time in quite awhile anyone had asked to help him outright. It had been even longer since he allowed anyone to help him without lashing out. You smile and gesture for him to follow you to a fallen tree not too far along the edge of the water. There was just enough daylight left that you could probably get most of the welding done before the sun set.
“No tricks human. Even with that machine you are soft. I won’t hesitate to offline a femme.” He growled as he begrudgingly settled himself down on the tree.
You notice him watching your every move, frame tense as if he expected you to take that torch and use it for more sinister purposes. You vent softly and move around behind him to look at his wing. This close to him, you feel a staticky tingle that runs through seemingly every energon line of your frame. You shudder. You could feel his agitation, fear, and apprehension. But there was a hint of something else there. A feeling you couldn’t quite place. Something akin to curiosity. You shake your helm and try to focus on assessing the damage.
There were a few gaps in his weld lines that still leaked a bit of energon. You knew the mesh beneath contains many pain receptors. It was shredded at the joint and the tender mesh exposed. You cringed as you ran your optics over the crumpled mess. Of course he’d tried to fix it himself if Megatron was the one who did this to him. He’d probably done it to humiliate him. Reaching out a careful servo you go to brush a digit along one of the weld lines. As soon as your digit makes contact he flinches. His other wing twitching and you feel a wave of embarrassment and rage through his EM field.
“I don’t have all night Autobot are you going to get on with it or not!” He snapped trying to hide the fact that he’d had such a dramatic reaction to the contact.
You bite back a stinging retort and reach into the container at your side for a welding rod. You realize with a feeling of dread that you don’t have any nerve dampeners on you. Nothing like an EM pulse emitter that could nullify the pain being caused by the fresh welds. You chew your lip for a moment and speak. “I don’t have anything to help with the pain. Will you be alright?”
He doesn’t respond. Only nodding, giving you to go ahead to continue. You take a deep vent in. If he had done this earlier on his own, he must not have had anything to numb the pain then either. Bracing yourself with one ped on the ground and the other against the fallen tree, you place one servo between his wings and use the other to unset the welds he’d placed. Flicking down your visor against the blinding torch, you set to work. Once you began, he made no sound to indicate he was in pain.
Only the groan of strained metal could be heard as he clenched his fists against the white hot flame of the torch. You worked quickly, wanting this to be over just as much as he probably did. After unsetting the welds, you worked quickly to right them once again. This time taking care to align the joint properly and seal any severed lines. His uninjured wing trembled a couple times but otherwise he remained still.
Once you had finished you stood upright and flicked your visor back up to look at your work. It wasn’t as good as a medic could have done but you were the best in your class at field medicine. These welds would hold and his wing was on straight this time. You cross your arms over your chassis, proud of your work. “All finished. And the sun hasn’t even set yet.”
Pastel pinks and oranges had begun to fill the watercolor sky. Still he didn’t move. You cocked your head to the side suddenly concerned. Reaching out a servo you rest it in the middle of his back between his wings and feel him lean ever so slightly into that touch before he catches himself. Flinching abruptly away he stands and whirls on you. “You’ve already touched me enough insect. I’m fine.”
His EM field flared with that unidentifiable emotion once again. You stepped back palms up to show you didn’t mean to overstep. “Sorry didn’t mean to.” You mumble not knowing what exactly you were apologizing for. You had comforted Bee in a similar way once when he was seriously injured after a fight. The little scout seemed grateful for the gesture and you thought he might need something like that as well. Clearly not. You huffed out an annoyed vent. So much for him being grateful. At least you had made it through the entire process without him using those twin null rays to blast you back to the state you were born in.
He wouldn’t look you in the optics. His pride probably so thoroughly squashed for the day that he couldn’t possibly take another embarrassment.
“There. We are even.” Were the only words he spoke as he whirled around and stalked off. Transforming and taking off over the lake a few paces down. He wasn’t trailing that awful black smoke anymore and his wing seemed to be holding. You hadn’t realized just how stiff you’d been holding your posture as you finally relax. His alt mode disappeared on the horizon, not knowing just how close he had come to discovering the Autobot base.
IDW Starscream X Reader
Warnings: none
Synopsis: While on patrol, the SIC discovers a quiet place he can get away from it all. Unfortunately, so did a certain troublesome little human.
Author note: (I’ve never written fanfic before but I wanted a slow burn romance with no smut only fluff so here I am. I am not a professional writer and this is my first time posting fanfic!)
It had been one of those days you felt like running away from it all. You drove furiously down the winding road you took to work every day. Music blaring and fists clenched on the wheel. Snow had fallen the night before making the foliage glisten as your car screamed past the quiet trees. You needed more time to yourself. Just a few more hours until you had to go home. It’s not like you wouldn’t be alone anyway. You lived by yourself in the middle of nowhere, in a house given to you when your mother passed away last year. The memories in that house plagued you almost as much as your idiot coworkers. Taking a deep breath in, you turn onto the unmarked path that led to the lake. The moon was full, casting ethereal silver light over the icy water. This time of year you knew it was frozen solid. Enough for your favorite passtime, ice skating. It had been years since you had been here. Good memories began to surface as you parked the car and got out. Breathing in a lungful of painfully fridged air. A smile crawled its way across your lips. This was exactly what you needed.
Starscream stalked through the halls of the base. His wings flicking irritably. Another unfruitful scout for energon had left him with the fury of his glorious leader. He flexed his servos itching for something to take his frustration out on. He shouldered past Thundercracker, the other seeker raising a hand in greeting but stopping when he saw the look on his face. He missed the days when he and his trine had been able to spend more time together. But those feelings were currently overshadowed by the unyielding rage he felt. He tried to ignore the sting in the side of his helm where Megatron had drove his fist, making it clear once again that failure meant pain. Venting his frustration to the cold night air, he transformed wanting to be anywhere but here. Flying his usual patrol route he spotted the perfect place far enough away from those miserable humans. A lake, surrounded by mountains and covered in ice. A clearing of large rocks sat underneath a cliff nearby. Perfect to take out his grievances on. He landed skidding so a halt, nearly bowling into one of the big rocks. Instead he sent his fist through it, shattering the massive stone and yelling his frustration to what he thought was an empty night sky.
You had since donned your old skates and a heavier coat. Pulling on the leather skates felt like coming home. Something familiar and exciting. You had taken lessons in your teens and still remember it like it was yesterday. Putting on your favorite playlist, you slide gracefully onto the ice. The moon is bright enough to light the entire lake as you enjoy the solitude. Your breath billowing in eerie curls from your mouth as you remember the steps to a routine you learned. Spinning gracefully, forgetting the awful day you had at work. Peace didn’t last long though as a massive boulder comes hurtling from behind you. Narrowly missing your head and plummeting straight through the thick ice. You barely have time to react before you are sent flying. A scream of fear cut short as you plunge below the ice into the inky water.
Starscream swung his helm around at the sound of your shriek. A human? Or an animal? Something was here with him. He stalked through the trees towards where he had sent that stone flying. He hoped it would land satisfyingly in the middle of that frozen lake. On his approach he saw it in fact met its mark. That’s when he noticed the human vehicle parked near the shore and a small pale hand scrabbling at the edge of the ice. For a moment he thought about just flying away. He wouldn’t have to deal with whatever it was. It was just a human. Right? But something made him stop and reach out a massive hand, scooping you from the water. When he lifted you towards his face to examine you, he noticed something alarming. You weren’t moving. A tinge of guilt gripped his spark. He hadn’t meant to cause harm to the thing. All these years on earth and he hadn’t let himself get this close to its squishy little inhabitants. It looked startlingly like a Cybertronian sparkling. His optics narrow as worry grips him. Poking you with a servo gently to push you over onto your back in his hand, he presses it cautiously to your chest. Your little heartbeat is there, but it’s faint. He vents in exasperation. The night wasn’t meant to go like this.
Starscream and his noble steed. I take pride in how I display my Blokees Transformers figures.
Playing around with colors. I see a giant robot and I immediately want to gib him a lil kiss. I would definitely end up crushed irl. 🫠
😭😭😭 I love him
I was wondering if you would ever write for a bayverse mech? If so, could we maybe please get a bayverse Mirage fic? I love how goofy and unserious he is
Sure! He’s on my list, anyway
• “Oh, sweetspark. Baby, look at you,” he says, transforming and standing as you come down the stairs into the garage. Because this? He’s never seen you dressed up like this, that midnight blue material shimmering with your movements. “That for me?” Please, let it be for him. Maybe you’re finally coming around, because he’s been flirting. Trying to get your attention and you just laugh. Think he’s joking.
• “No, it’s not for you. That new guy at work asked me out.” And his grin falters, servos flexing and then tapping against his thigh. Why does he look like a kicked puppy all of a sudden? Uncertain, you toy with your hem. He flirts all the time, but that’s just him. Shameless teasing his style. It’s not like he was serious. Right?
• Primus, why does that hurt so much? The idea of you smiling for someone else. Would you let that guy hold your hand? Kiss you? Do more? How well do you know this person? Not better than you know him, so why? “You like this guy?” Wants to ask you to change. Maybe those baggy jeans you like and an oversized t-shirt. Something that doesn’t scream frag me. “I mean, of course you do. Never mind.” Running a hand over his helm, he paces. Just say it. Say anything to keep you from going out that door dressed like that to meet someone else. Just ripping his spark out with those soft hands.
• “He’s nice,” you say, watching him pace. And you’ve never seen him so agitated before. Wait, is he jealous? Hear his muttered ‘of course, he is.’ And he is jealous. Freezing as all of his shameless flirting shifts. All those little compliments, the way he’s constantly reaching to touch you, run a servo through your hair, against your back or arm. Biting your bottom lip you watch him press his servos against his helm venting loudly. “But, there is this other guy. He’s great.” Your best friend.
• There’s even more competition? Rocking to a stop, he stares down at you. “Yeah? You like him, too?” Doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to know. But can’t stop himself. You can love whoever you want, he’s still going to watch over you. Protect you even as it kills him inside. “Guess he makes you happy?”
• Heart racing, you fist your hem. If you’re wrong about this he’s probably going to laugh at you. “He’s my best friend. I mean he’s always cutting up, flirting, so I didn’t realize he was serious.” Shoulders lifting in a shrug, he stares at you, his hand slowly falling. Not saying anything. “He always has my back and I just, I’m sorry I didn’t realize, but I like him, too.”
• Him. Primus, you’re talking about him. Finally seeing him. “Yeah? Babe, this guy, he’d wait for you. Wait forever if he needed to. Because you’re worth it.” Going to his knees when you take an uncertain step his way and lay a little hand in his much bigger palm when he offers it. Trusting yourself to him. Other hand cupping you, he’s afraid to move as you reach up an arm and he slowly bends to let you curl it around his neck. Hugging him. “This guy loves you.”
Emptiness Machine
Author note: I am putting a trigger warning on this one because it mentions newsparks and alludes to Starscream thinking reader is carrying a newspark. Also because graphic depictions of violence.
If you are new here welcome! You can find my other fics and the other chapters HERE
Shockwave listens as the door behind him shuts. None of this was making sense. He had seen it. The tiny almost imperceptible energy signature that even his highly sensitive optic hadn’t picked up at first. A newspark. He was sure of it. But what he had pulled from the chassis of that mech wasn’t a newspark at all. It was a human of all things. His servo shook as he balled it into a fist.
A wave of unfamiliar feeling crashed over him. Something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. His antennae flattened against his helm. The whole thing was most illogical. He began to stalk through the hallway. Muttering as he went, about newsparks and how it just wasn’t possible. He was so distracted by the conundrum of it that he almost barreled straight into Starscream. The mech immediately indignant at the perceived slight, sputtered as he dodged the boxy scientist. He had heard shockwave and paused, giving the scientist a confused look.
“What in primus’ name are you mumbling about now Shockwave. Some experiment of yours gone awry again?”
Starscream smirked as he blocked shockwave’s way, the bigger purple mech didn’t even seem to notice he was there. Pushing past the SIC shockwave stopped at the door to the med-bay continuing to mutter about newsparks and impossible things like that. Starscream’s wings flicked up in alarm at that.
“Newsparks? Shockwave you’ve been in that lab too long. There hasn’t been a newspark since…”
He stopped, looking back over his shoulder towards shockwave’s lab. Even he wasn’t evil enough to try and create life like that. He wouldn’t try to artificially create a newspark. That just wasn’t something he was interested in. Was it? Suddenly a deep sense of dread gripped Starscream. He knew an Autobot femme had been taken prisoner from the latest raid. Had that femme been sparked and shockwave somehow got ahold of it?
The energon in his lines ran cold. Sure he shouldn’t care about some Autobot femme. But he had believed for so long that his race was dying. That eventually this war would mean the end of the Cybertronians if he didn’t seize control from Megatron and stop his tyranny. Before he knew what he was doing he was sprinting headlong to Shockwave’s lab and bursting through the sliding doors. The scene that greeted him was a gruesome one. The femme was on his operating slab with her chest compartment torn open. Her optics were offline and she was leaking energon. To her left was a small vile containing the slumped figure of an organic. His optics widened as they fell on the tiny creature in the vile.
He’d seen the little organics on footage that the drones had picked up on their recon missions. Never in a million years did he think Shockwave of all bots would mistake the little insects for newsparks. Still, it all didn’t add up to him. Why had shockwave been so shaken and why had he offlined the Autobot prisoner instead of interrogating her for information. And in such a violent way. He turned his optics on the femme once more looking closer at her this time. Her chest compartment where her spark should be didn’t look quite right. Squinting his optics he tired to figure out what was missing. To his left a small noise startled him out of his quiet contemplation.
A loud noise jarred you awake making your head pound even harder. You tilt your head up a bit, eyes bleary and unfocused from the pain. Placing a hand on the cool glass you try to right yourself so you can better see what was making all that racket. A different Cybertronian was in the room with you now. His wings flicking in agitation as he stared at your mech.
“Hey you. Get back. Don’t touch that.”
Your voice barely coming out as a hoarse gasp as you tried to warn him off. He turns at your voice, mumbling deeply in his own language. It hadn’t occurred to you that the Decepticons wouldn’t have had the need to scan the native life. Their language not something that was relevant as the Decepticons only sought the energon on the planet. The humans were little more than insects to them. You look up at him, trying to get your eyes to focus. With every ounce of strength you have left, you take a deep breath and as loud as you possibly can, utter the only phrase in Cybertronian you had been taught. All the pain and anger and fear of the last hour building up in your chest as you scream at him.
“GO FRAG YOURSELF!”
Just wanting to know what yall are thinking about them because I haven’t heard much feedback and I’m a nervous bean 🙊
He’s extremely worried about her 💕
Artist and amateur writer Star Wars and Transformers fanLevel 25 🎀She/Her
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