I love him your honor đđ
Do you find this to be true?
Hereâs some Fanart I did for @revelboo
Wasnât sure I was gonna post any of my art but this page is just too good and I love her stuff. Go check her out!!!
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
IT MAY TAKE ME A MONTH TO PUT OUT A CHAPTER BUT AT LEAST IM NOT USING AI TO WRITE IT
Iâm curious!
Emptiness Machine
Author note: yâall have patiently waited for juicy interactions between Starscream and reader and now next chapter we will have one! :3 I am so excited. Anyway hereâs the next chapter.
âWhere is it? where is it?â Starscream thought as he dug frantically through a drawer in his habisuite. His wing hung painfully by the few lines that Megatron didnât rupture in his anger. His frame was wet with energon as he searched for his stash of medical supplies. This was one of Megatronâs 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 didnât respect and fear their leader so much, if they wouldnât 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 wouldnât lead them with falsehoods and intimidation as the warlord saw fit to.
Throwing the drawer aside that heâd emptied searching for an energon patch, he looks around frantically. There must be something he could use to stabilize his wounds. Heâd planned for this, stolen medical supplies so he could take care of this himself. He didnât 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 Megatronâs plans that Starscream sneered at. He knew way too much of his leaderâs 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 heâd be a better leader. But Megatron made sure no one would respect him. Theyâd 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 heâd been reduced to? Cowering and taking the blame for something he wasnât responsible for? It hadnât 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 heâd 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 wasnât 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 wasnât 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 wouldnât 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.
â˘â˘â˘
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 couldnât 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.
âSeraphim. 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 donât forget who you are in this time you are stuck.â
You nod solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation and how easy it would be to forget you werenât 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.
âIâmâŚgoing on patrol. Iâll be back later ok. Youâve got my location. Comm if you need anything.â
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.
âItâs better if she figures this out on her own.â
Outside the bay, several of the others were out on patrol. You pass Michael, who gives you a sympathetic look but doesnât 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 Michaelâs 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 wasnât 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? Werenât they all the same species? They hadnât killed you. Just mishandled you out of ignorance. At least the ones beneath the ruthless warlord. You shuddered at the memory of being in Megatronâs 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 wasnât uncommon to hear near the base as two of the Autobots were flight frames. But this didnât 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 didnât 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.
âJust ridinâ that storm runninâ through my veins like a shot down, tailspun airplaneâ â 彥
-Luke Combs (Ainât No Love In Oklahoma)
He doesnât understand that itâs harder for humans to come out of recharge in the morning đ´đĽą
Based this sketch off of that one panel of skywarp and buster. Super adorable pose and I was like huh. I can use that.
Emptiness Machine
Author note: Hey everyone Iâm so so sorry itâs been so long. This has been the worst three weeks of my life. Currently staying with my dad and having to see what exactly happens going forward. That aside please enjoy chapter 9 of emptiness machine! And thank you for your patience. â¤ď¸
The crushing hug the scout had you in nearly cracked the brand new welds that had been used to repair you. You chuckle as he finally lets go but keeps a servo wrapped around the arm of your mech. The other bot, Ironhide, waved at the two of you from the door.
âCâmon we ainât got time for tearful hellos. The others are guarding the open spacebridge as we speak.â
He starts out the door and bee goes to pull you along with him. The restraints that Starscream had ordered the drones to place on you were still binding your wrists. You awkwardly stumble along letting him guide you through the smoke. He and Ironhide had done quite a number on the drones through this hallway. you smile a little knowing later you would congratulate them on their victory. After turning down a few more hallways, you join up with the lambo twins and Hound. They urge you forward and through the last set of blast doors. The scene that awaited you was straight out of a science fiction comic book. Optimus himself stood in front of the open space bridge locked in hand to hand combat with Megatron.
Optimus swung his axe missing Megatronâs helm by mere inches. The Decepticon leader taking the opportunity to drive his energy blade up just missing vital energon lines running through his opponentâs neck. The prime countered, his joints straining as he swung the heavy weapon down in a brutal arc. Megatron sidestepped just in time to watch the axe slamming into the ground with a deafening thud, sending up a spray of sparks.
Before the axe could be pulled back, Megatron darted in, his energy blade flashing in the dim light, a precise thrust aimed at his opponentâs chassis. Optimus twisted, deflecting the strike with a swift, brutal swipe of his axe. Megatronâs blade grazed his plating, but he barely flinched.
There were scowls on their faces as they circled each other, each waiting for an opening to strike. Optimus growled deep in his frame, lunging forward again, his weapon whistling through the air. His opponent narrowly avoiding the strike. The energy blade was raised just in time, blocking the blow but the sheer force of it drove him to his knees. With a growl of fury, Megatron pushed back, rolling aside, narrowly avoiding a second strike.
He sprang to his feet, his blade now a blur as he countered with a series of fast, slashing attacks.The two bots locked optics, and in a flash, they were upon each other again, weapons clashing in a deafening frenzy of power and precision, each driven by eons of war and the raw need to destroy one another.
This wasnât a fight Optimus was trying to win. As you look closer, you see the Autobot leader carefully leading Megatron to the opposite side of the room from the portal. An effective strategy and flawless distraction. Using his own fury against him. You canât help but smile a bit as Bee tugs on your arm, pulling you towards the portal. Ironhide and the twins had already gone through and Hound was right on their aft. No one wanted to stick around while the two big shots had it out. Letting the scout lead you forward you brace for the dizzying swirl of noise and light before disappearing behind the rest of the team.
As you come out on the other side, you see the familiar sight of the launch bay. Right behind you, a heavy ped step announces the arrival of Optimus. Heâs clutching a fresh wound on his shoulder, but other than that he seems fine. Relief and exhaustion grip you and your knees buckle beneath you. Bumblebee luckily still has his digits locked around your wrist and catches you as you lean forward. His worried tone faded to a deafening ringing sound as your optics white out.
When you wake hours later, you expect to be disconnected from your mech. Instead, you are laid out still connected to your machine on one of the medical berths Ratchet uses to treat injured Autobot. Your chassis is open, exposing your real body. Tubes and energon lines are connected at various points around your frame. Blinding white light from above you makes you blink a few times, trying to adjust your optics to the harsh glow. From the cockpit of your mech, a familiar voice mumbles.
âSheâs awake. Seraphim can you hear me?â Dr. Antonovâs voice was muffled by the layers of plating and wires he was behind.
You groan in response and he moves to be closer to your helm. You turn and train him with golden optics. âDr. Antonov. Itâs good to see you. IsâŚeverything alright?â
The doctor stayed shut away in his lab most days. After years of working for the government, he had finally retired. He was promptly brought back for the express purpose of finishing his research on Cybertronian biology after first contact. He was a kind man, albeit a bit odd and antisocial. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled up at you. His greying, dark hair a mess as it usually was.
âYouâve had quite an ordeal havenât you Sera? Honestly I was surprised we got you back in one piece! Given how Prime had described the Decepticons.â He reached out and patted the side of your helm gently. You look back at your open chassis.
âDoctor, why havenât I been disconnected?â as you asked this, his smile faded. He looked his age once again as he turned slowly to walk back to where he had been.
âSomething is interfering with your ability to disconnect from the Seraphim frame. If we try to sever the connection in this stateâŚyour consciousness could be lost.â
Before you could process his words, you hear shouting outside the door. Muffled voices and sounds of a struggle could be heard. Two bots were arguing.
âYou better let me in old timer before I let myself in.â
âSheâs just waking up, we donât want to overwhelm her with company. Besides, we donât know if the doctor has broken the news to herââ
The bot guarding the door was cut off as the other shoved his was into the med-bay. The giant metal door slid open and quick ped steps announced the arrival of a very worried and fussy friend.
â˘â˘â˘
âYou absolute failure! I cannot believe you allowed Optimus Prime and his lackeys to bridge directly onto the flight deck of my ship!â Megatron sent a devastating kick into the side of the kneeling figure before him. It sent the bot jolting to the side, nearly purging his tanks from the force of the blow. Venting rapidly, Starscream tries to re-align his vocal apparatus to speak.
âLord Megatron! Please I was interrogating the prisoner! Didnât you want the valuable information she was carrying?â Another blow to the helm as he bowed low, trying to appease his leaderâs anger. Dizzy and disoriented he tried to right himself, only to be grabbed by a wing and flung across the room. There was a sickening crunch as his wing dislocated and hung useless by a few cables. His body hit the opposite wall and he landed in a heap unmoving. The gathered Decepticons seemed to flinch in unison as the Warlord stalked towards the seeker.
âStarscream you imbecile. I told you to take care of it. Didnât I? I wanted that thing offline! It had no such intel to give you. It was taking you for the fool you are! And now Optimus prime has ground bridge coordinates for the flight deck of the Nemesis!â He reached out a clawed servo and grabbed the seeker around the throat. Lifting him off of his peds. Starscream sputtered but couldnât get the words out. Energon leaked from the split in the mesh of his lip where Megatron had landed a solid blow earlier. He bared his denta at his leader and scrabbled at the grip around his throat as Megatron squeezed. Starscreamâs optics flickered as he was about to lose consciousness. A calm and steady voice interrupted the two.
âLord Megatron if I may, the abomination did in fact possess coordinates for other energon mines. Isnât that correct Soundwave?â Shockwaveâs even tone despite the mauling of his second in command, made Megatron pause.
He growled and dropped the body of the seeker and he crumpled into a heap on the floor. Turning his attention to a very uncomfortable looking Soundwave, Megatron began to stalk over looking eerily calm. As he approached Soundwave produced a small disk. One he had hoped to keep hidden for his own research. But Shockwave had seen him downloading the information from the prisoner. He handed it over, there was no information on the location of the base of operations for their enemy, however, the location of half a dozen energon mines wasnât bad intel at all.
While Megatron was discussing the new intel with Shockwave, Starscream winced as he hauled himself up. This wasnât the first time his leader had taken out a defeat on his frame. He gritted his denta against the pain and limped painfully out. He needed to be away from here. Anywhere but here before panic gripped him once again. He felt his spark start to spin faster as he hobbled to his habisuite to do his own repairs.
Artist and amateur writer Star Wars and Transformers fanLevel 25 đShe/Her
69 posts