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 đ (also I donât 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 youâd 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 hadnât announced yourself and it was easy enough to sneak up close to him when he first landed. Youâd had ample time to study his frame. From the looks of it, heâd suffered a great deal. Could have been from the battle, but after he ran off into the smoke you hadnât 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. Itâs 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 heâd done it himself. Though that would be foolish wouldnât it? Isnât 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, heâd 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.
âShow yourself!â He spat, stalking forward a few paces.
You donât make a move but instead call out to him from your prone position. âYou look worse for ware. The Autobots give you a run for your money?â
Recognition flashed in his optics and his blasters lowered just a fraction. He hadnât 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.
âListen. Iâm going to stand up now. You know I donât possess weapons on my frame. Iâm unarmed.â 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 donât have anything with which to fight back. His optics found and trained you with a cold stare.
âIs it a habit of yours to patrol unarmed? Those damn fools canât even train a proper army.â He grumbled almost quiet enough that you didnât hear.
He vented in exasperation, though he didnât 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.
âDid one of us do that to you?â You asked, gesturing with your chin towards his injured wing.
âAs if an Autobot could inflict such injures on me.â 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 didnât know what to expect when he saw what was under that mask but it wasnât 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.
âThen it must have been Megatron. Iâm not deaf. I heard him threaten you.â 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. âWhat the scrap are you doing out here in the woods alone. You were in bad shape when I last saw you.â His voice was harsh and there was a staticky edge to it. Perhaps a nervous tell.
âI could ask the same of you. I thought Decepticons didnât venture to the surface. Something about it being âcontaminated by the native lifeâ or something.â 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.
âIf you want, I could help you with the welding on your wing. You are still leaking energon. It couldnât have felt good to fly like that.â
Extending your servo with the tools, you try to look as sympathetic as possible. âYou helped me. Iâm still functioning because of you and I owe you for that.â 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. âPlease let me do this. Weâd be even. They have no idea you tried to help me.â
Starscreamâs 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 wouldnât 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.
âNo tricks human. Even with that machine you are soft. I wonât hesitate to offline a femme.â 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 couldnât 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 heâd tried to fix it himself if Megatron was the one who did this to him. Heâd 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.
âI donât have all night Autobot are you going to get on with it or not!â He snapped trying to hide the fact that heâd 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 donât 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. âI donât have anything to help with the pain. Will you be alright?â
He doesnât 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 heâd 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 wasnât 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. âAll finished. And the sun hasnât even set yet.â
Pastel pinks and oranges had begun to fill the watercolor sky. Still he didnât 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. âYouâve already touched me enough insect. Iâm fine.â
His EM field flared with that unidentifiable emotion once again. You stepped back palms up to show you didnât mean to overstep. âSorry didnât mean to.â 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 wouldnât look you in the optics. His pride probably so thoroughly squashed for the day that he couldnât possibly take another embarrassment.
âThere. We are even.â 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 wasnât trailing that awful black smoke anymore and his wing seemed to be holding. You hadnât realized just how stiff youâd 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.
Telling on a bully to your fav character be like
I don't know if you're into model kits, but GoodSmile Company has some Patlabor model kits that are being re-released.
Hilariously enough, my husband is super into BattleTech and paints the miniatures for that. I also love building the larger model kits when I find the time. Iâll need to get my grabby little hands on one of those Patlabor kits đ
getting huge Evangelion vibes from your fic
Ooooo thatâs a new one! Iâve never actually seen that anime but itâs certainly on my list. Iâve watched a number of anime titles but not this one yet!
My inspiration for Emptiness Machine came from a combo of the AVATAR movies and of course Pacific Rim.
IDW Starscream X Reader
Rating: 18+ (TW: blood, reader hits their head hard)
Frag. Could this day get any worse? He canât throw it back into the lake now. Starscream just stares at the tiny frozen organic clutched in his servos. Looking around he tries to think of a way to get rid of it without having to deal with it, when it suddenly whimpers. A pitiful sound as it comes to and begins to shiver. Itâs unsettling the way it weakly tries to squirm in his grasp. He grimaces lifting it closer to his optics again. Thatâs when he noticed the gash on its forehead. Itâs leaking. Oozing dark red liquid from where he assumed was itâs processor. He could feel its weak heartbeat against his palm and he knew he had to do something fast. Or heâd have a bigger problem on his hands. Running a hand over his faceplate in exasperation, he decides the best course of action would be to get it somewhere warm first. Maybe he could figure out how to get it to stop leaking. Carefully he transformed around the little thing and took off towards the base. He knew heâd have to be careful. If the others saw his mistake, that could mean a fate far worse than freezing to death for you.
Light and sound were the only discernible sensation besides a deep, bone jarring chill. Your teeth chatter as you try to rouse yourself. âDonât fall asleep.â You think as you feel a warmth envelop you. Someone must have found you and drug you out of the lake. This was rural Appalachia. It was a miracle anyone was within fifteen miles of where you were. You reach a shaky hand to your forehead, bringing it away sticky with blood. Confused you try to get a sense of where you are. Your eyes wonât cooperate, everything is fuzzy and unfocused. The faint sound of a jet engine made you scrunch your brow. Perhaps you were being airlifted to the hospital? You reach up a hand weakly resting it on the canopy above you. Silently thanking whatever gods were watching over you this night. Your eyes grew so heavy you feared youâd slip away forever. Head throbbing and clothes still soaking wet from your fall into the lake, you shiver until exhaustion takes you.
Returning to base, Starscream lands in his alt mode carefully keeping you hidden in his canopy. He transforms, aware of your limp body resting against the inside of his frame. Shuddering at the sensation, he tries his best not to jostle you around as he strides inside. Luckily the hallways are mostly empty and he arrives at his quarters with no uncomfortable questions asked. After gently lifting you from his canopy, he places you on his desk. Kneeling so he can assess the damage. You flop alarmingly limp from his servo onto the hard surface. Your jacket, still full of water, makes an awful squishing noise. He grimaces, trying his best to figure out how to get you out of your soaked coverings. His servos much too big as he fumbles with the clasps of your jacket. After struggling for awhile he family manages to shake you free of your jacket. He jumps a bit, his wings flicking when you let out a pained groan from being handled. After gently putting you down again he begins to pace in front of the desk. What was he thinking bringing you here? He didnât know slag about humans. He let out a frustrated growl slamming his fist onto the desk next to you. This roused you enough to lift your head and stare blearily up at him. Clearly your optics werenât working correctly because you actually reach out a tiny shaking hand towards his fist. He watches intently as you mumble incoherently to him. Needing his help. Needing him. His optics widen at the realization. One thing was clear. He has to find a way to save you.
Emptiness Machine
Author note: Hey all! Thanks for sticking with this story! Little TW for this one. Talk of newsparks. Other than that enjoy!
It spoke Cybertronian. Albeit rude Cybertronian but of course only the autobots would teach a pet like this something so vulgar. Starscream narrows his optics at the creature as it squirms in his servo. The feel of it soft and warm in his digits sending an uncomfortable shudder through his frame. It turns its gaze on him staring up at him with those uncannily Cybertronian features. Intelligence in its face he wants to forget. If it can speak, it can understand him surely. He records its speech as it chatters up at him, translating the files and creating a program so that he can communicate with it. It takes a moment but he clears his vocalizer before speaking.
âYou are bold for such a little thing. You caught me off guard speaking intelligently like that. Here I thought your kind were just miserable little insects.â
â˘â˘â˘
That deep voice rumbles through you as he speaks, finally a language you can understand. You canât even be offended at the way he spoke about you, the shock of the interaction bleeding into fear as you feel the grip of his servos around your ribs. You remember the autobots describing the things that these bots had done during the war. As his crimson optics gaze down at you with contempt you canât help but wonder why he hadnât crushed you yet. When you speak, your voice comes out shakier than youâd hoped.
âWhat did you want with me.â
The mech ponders for a moment. Still studying you as if you were some sort of exotic animal. After what felt like an uncomfortably long pause, he turns his head towards the body of your mech. Now deactivated, her optics dim from the prematurely severed connection. He doesnât directly answer your question.
âWhat were you doing with that femme? Were you like some weird pet to her?â
He sounded disgusted when he said the word pet. Raising a tiny hand, you point to the mech. Your voice still shaking a bit but filled with determination and a shocking courage.
âYou think youâve killed her but you havenât.â
You take a moment to think. Maybe you could throw him off so much that you could escape. You remember the reaction of the autobots when you had first been scanned by Ratchet and Firstaid. It had been one of horror, comparing the way you scanned to that of a newspark. From what you understood, Cybertronians were born one of two ways. Through a spark bond or from a hot spot. The fragile things appearing as a newspark and transferred into a waiting protoform.
âYou scanned a newspark signature didnât you?â
He looked taken aback by that. Either your intelligence was scaring him or the way you knew exactly what had transpired despite not understanding him. You speak again trying to appeal to him. Though you had a feeling it was all for not.
âDid you give any thought to the fact that we might not be so different?â
You wave your hand towards your mech, back to yourself, and then to him in a sweeping gesture. Just then, the door burst open to reveal a new boxy looking blue mech. The red visor covering his optics practically glowing as he looked around. Despite having a mask covering his face, his frame was tense and he radiated an agitated energy. His voice tonal and growling as he spoke urgently in his own language to the mech holding you.
â˘â˘â˘
Starscream stared down at you as you gestured to him. Not so different? You were nothing. An insect. The only reason Megatron hadnât already glassed your planet was the fact that your species might be useful for the creation of synthetic energon. The energon unfit for consumption for anything with a spark. But very useful for powering drones and weapons. The distillation process recently discovered by Shockwave some cycles ago. He had discovered that the organic creatures could be drained of their life force and condensed into this synthetic monstrosity. Personally, Starscream found this absolutely abhorrent.
He didnât get time to process his thoughts though as Soundwave came bursting through the door. Looking frantically about the room, his visor falling on the body of the mysterious femme on the table.
âStarscream, query, where is the newspark?â
Starscream rolled his optics, the communications officer had always been much too sentimental for his taste. Letting his emotions get the better of him when it came to the care of his cassettes. Worrying over them and keeping much too close an eye on the life down on the planet below.
âThere is no newspark you fool. Only this organic creature. Did you know they were intelligent?â
None of this was sitting right with Starscream as he looked back down at your confused face. The communications officer only nods as he walks over to the scanner. Seeing the signature for himself. Turning the screen towards Starscream, he points to the outline of your body and the origin of the weak signature. His voice a deep tonal growl as he addresses the SIC.
âNot just an organic.â
Those words made the energon in his lines grow cold again. Turning slowly to see the look of almost triumph on your face as if you had won. He makes the connection.
âWhat the pit have those Autobot fools done?â
Emptiness Machine
Author notes: (Wowza I didnât expect such a positive reaction to my nonsense! Here is a blurb to test the waters. See what yâall think! Let me know if you want more. đ)
TW: (needle mentioned briefly, mention of alcohol to describe a feeling, reader cusses a little bit.)
Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you only half hear the blaring alarm. You stare at the ceiling for moment, trying to get your brain to wake up enough to process the announcement over the loudspeaker.
âDecepticon activity coordinates delta seven, bearing nine. Threat level Magenta. Pilot SERAPHIM to the launch bay.â
The words repeated as the red overhead lights flashed. No one could sleep through this, you thought as you rolled out of your cot. Feet hitting the cold floor you let your training take over. Autopilot was the only way to operate on days like this. Despite not being out late or having anything to drink the night before, you felt hungover and woozy. The Energon micro-infusions you and the other pilots received must be to blame. Donning your pilot gear and clicking your mask into place you finally start to feel whole again. Being outside of your mech felt like hell. Exposed like a nerve and vulnerable. Feeling so small, you shake your head trying to figure out how you ever lived without that soul connection to your machinery.
You grab your communicator, linking it to your headset and running out the door. Hallways bustled and noise reverberated through the massive metal building as soldiers and Autobots alike made their way around the base. You dodged around giant peds, apologizing when you almost knock right into Hound. The bot putting up his hands and giving a startled whoa as you bolt towards the hangar doors. This was home. The metallic smell of oil and energon hit you as you ran up the ramp to your mech. She was beautiful. Orange and teal accents over ivory plating. The wing and eye insignia on her shoulder alongside tally marks of all the victories you had won. Her optics offline and her lines hooked up to refuel, she looked lifeless. An empty machine.
You smiled remembering the first time you had met a Cybertronian. They were appalled to learn that the mechs they fought alongside werenât Cybertronian, but were in fact piloted by humans. The bots now compared you to a spark within your mech, your consciousness becoming that of the metal behemoth you piloted. You yelled a greeting to your launch officer as he walked through the protocols and commands before helping you into the chest of your mech. Settling yourself into the gel seat made just for you, you feel the sting of the needle inserted into the back of your neck. Your eyes roll back and the familiar sensation of falling tugs at your limbs. The micro amounts of energon in your bloodstream prickle as your nerves switch to feeling cold.
Optics coming online and flickering as your consciousness links up with your mech. Your servos twitch, testing your movement slowly via the launch officerâs commands. Rolling your shoulders as the energy lines disconnect and the link is complete. The HUD is always a bit disorienting, vitals and stats crowding your vision as it adjusts. The tiny body your consciousness left is nestled snug in your chest. You reach for your weapon where it was leaned, charging next to the bay. A familiar voice to your right makes you turn.
âReady there Sera?â Your vocal apparatus crackles to life as you reply.
âHad to get my bearings Bee. Consciousness transfer never gets easier.â Energy thrums through your lines and you feel whole once more. You worked alongside the Bumblebee as a fellow scout. Your mech being a lighter class helped with the stealth aspect of intelligence gathering. Most of the other pilots were male, making you one of the few female pilots to survive the initial testing. You felt proud of your accomplishments since the war for energon began.
âWhat is our mark.â You ask following the yellow bot out onto the launchpad. A ground bridge was already open and humming ominously. He had an alt mode but you didnât, your mech not able to transform. Using a ground bridge was the only way to get your mech anywhere far away fast. It wasnât your favorite way of travel, personally you favored the jump jets your mech was equipped with. Something about soaring through the sky was the most liberating feeling you had ever experienced.
âWeâve got a high level threat. At least three cons attacked one of our mines in Australia. I heard Shockwave had some dangerous experiment. Weâve gotta do some reconnaissance before we go take it back.â He smirked before shoving at your shoulder making you stumble a bit. âTry to keep up this time.â You smile at him as he disappears into the swirling light. Something about this mission seemed off. Everyone seemed a little too stoic for this to be a routine take back. Shrugging off the seed of doubt you lift your ion cannon and mount it to your shoulder. Calibrating your weapons and getting ready for whatever fresh hell awaited you.
Emptiness Machine
Author note: sorry for not updating for awhile but here is chapter 2! Might release chapter 3 todayâŚ
Spinister. That name meant nothing to you but clearly he was a force to be reckoned with. You look sideways at the lambo twins just in time to see them shift anxiously on their peds. You look to Bee for confirmation.
âAre we rushing them or are we going to regroup.â
There was a moment of silence and then a deep rumbling started behind you. You turned to see sideswipe with his denta bared in rage. You remembered the bot had revealed the Decepticons had razed his town back on cybertron. The twins lost everyone they knew. His servos flexed at his side.
âIâm taking them NOW!â
Before anyone else could react he darted from behind the iron doors and into the cavern.
âWait Sides no!â
Bee shouts after him. His twin on his heels and Cliffjumper cursing in Cybertronian as he launches himself in as well. Michael whoops from behind you and dives forward leaving only you and Bumblebee. The scout mumbles a muted âPrimusâŚâ before gesturing for you to follow him. The scene is in chaos. Both lambo twins had jumped Spinister and had the con firing aimlessly trying to shake them off. Shockwave was aiming his cannon at Cliff who was occupied trying to grab the humans who hadnât been turned into red goop.
Michael leapt at Shockwave, grabbing his cannon in his mechâs massive servo and crunching the barrel on the end so it couldnât fire. He looked at Michael as if he hadnât seen him before. Tilting his head and examining him before taking action. The con took a swing, knocking Michael to send him sprawling into Cliffjumper who had just seconds ago safely tucked the two survivors in his subspace. The two knocked into Spinister who brought his ped down hard on Michaelâs arm. You launch yourself at Shockwave who turns as if surprised to see you just as he had done with Michael.
âIs he partially blind?â You think as he examines you before muttering to himself. The fins on his expressionless faceplate flaring out as he brings a massive servo up to swat you out of the way. Instead his digits close around the arm of your mech and he begins dragging you towards a familiar circle of light. A ground bridge. When did that open up? Alarm jangles through you as you realize whatâs about to happen.
âSpinister stop playing. Itâs time to go. We got what we came for.â
Came the growling, deep voice from above you. Shockwave didnât even look at you as you struggled in his grip. The other Decepticon breaking free of the twins and joining the scientist near the bridge. You desperately com the others, screaming into your mic for help. The expression of horror on Bumblebeeâs faceplate was the last thing you see as you are dragged through the ground bridge to wherever the cons are taking you. His voice cut off as the swirling light envelops you.
âSera! Wait shockwave! Thatâs notââ
The awful pulling sensation of the ground bridge nearly makes you pass out as Shockwave drags you along. You arenât even standing now, the scientist has his fist locked around your wrist. The sound of scraping metal and the smell of ozone cloud your senses. Itâs dark here. The halls lit with an almost sterile purple glow. You pass drone after drone. None looking your way as you dangle from the fist of the enemy. After passing through several corridors and through double doors, you enter what you think must be his lab. The feeling you get when you enter makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You can feel it even through the split consciousness. Goosebumps erupting on the skin of the small body inside you. Insidious was an understatement. Tools and gadgets lined shelf after shelf. An assortment of wicked looking drills lay on a tray next to an inverted table.
Without saying a word or even glancing your way, Shockwave lifts you to rest against that inverted table. As if you weigh nothing at all. Cuffs lock around your hand, pinning it in place. You try to keep your other hand out of his reach. Using the fact that his cannon is damaged to your advantage and kicking at him with your peds. He takes the blows, not even moving when you kick at him. Reaching around he wrenches your other arm up to join the other. You let out a growl deep within your chest. Fear mixing with anger now as you watch him above you. Just observing you. Quietly curious and unsettling.
âYour energy signature is non existent. But you do not have an active cloaking device.â
He pauses for a moment to scan my chassis.
âWhat are you.â
It was framed more as a statement than a question. Gritting your denta you snarl back at him. Trying to make seem like none of this scares you. He doesnât react when you make the sound. Rather, he turns to the display mounted near the table and studies the scan. You can see that it reveals the tiny organic body inside your chest. Your body, you remind yourself. Sometimes itâs hard to remember that you arenât Cybertronian. He whips around digging a massive servo into your chest plating and prying open the compartment. It hurts. Pain ripping through your receptors to make you scream. Writhing against his grip as you fade in and out of consciousness from the sudden trauma. Energon leaks from the proto-armor underneath your plating protecting your small form inside. You vent raggedly as he grabs a scalpel and slices at your metal flesh to reveal the cockpit where you sit. Unconscious and slumped over in the gel seat, your body feeling delicate and exposed again.
âStop stop stop! You canât!â
And heâs reaching again. Gentle digits now curling around your body before you even have a chance to run disconnection protocols. You can feel your consciousness bouncing back and forth between the two vessels as the pneumonic needle slides uncomfortably out of the back of your neck. Gasping in a breath, you open your eyes. Wet with tears as you try to come awake. White light clouds your vision and sounds are muffled as the red glow of the scientistâs lone optic bathes you in ruddy light. Groaning incoherently, you hear him make a deep rumbling sound. One youâve heard before when the auto bots speak Cybertronian to one another. Your mech had been translating this whole time. You shake your head trying to clear it. You didnât know any Cybertronian and couldnât communicate with him without your mech.
Before you can process whatâs happening, he dumps you into a glass tube and sets it on a table next to your mech. You watch as he walks towards the door and leaves you there disoriented and unable to move. Your limbs feel achy and you can still feel the phantom pain of your chest being ripped open. Hands moving over your body you donât feel any actual injuries. He hadnât been rough with your actual body now that you think of it. His hands had been warm and gentle when he lifted you free of your mech. Looking around you try to get your bearings. It takes a moment for you to get your feet under you to stand, your legs shaky and weak. You only topple back down to the cold glass floor of the container when you try to move. Giving up, you lay there hoping sleep will take you and the pounding in your head will cease.
Iâm a proud freak.
How about lil valentines cards of some loved robots?! đ these will be available only this weekend at Melb Kaicon but if I have any left over, I might stick them in future etsy orders đ
Artist and amateur writer Star Wars and Transformers fanLevel 25 đShe/Her
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