Reader Insert - Blog Posts

Woah! Im posting again. The holidays are right around the corner and am enthralled by the Nutcracker ballet. Not only that but also a forever favorite fic Making a Monster by @absurdmageart!

They're an amazing writer and artist, check them out!

Aside that I'm enchanted by Wine and in combination of both hyperfixations I did reader-insert Lissa as Clara and Wine as the nutcracker solider!

Anyways thanks y'all and see you!

Hello, could I do one where Baldwin's wife is pregnant and at the time of delivery it is not a baby but rather she has 3 triplets and the reaction of those present and Balwin are almost fainting

King Baldwin x reader - The rays of the sun

A/N: I love this prompt, our king deserves a family as big as his heart😔😔

Plus I don't wanna spoil anything but this is actually perfect for this other fic I got requested, kind of like a part one if you will!

Oh and the painting is "First Steps" by Gustave Léonard de Jonghe:))

Summary: the queen of Jerusalem has finally gone into labor. Voice spread through her pregnancy of her unusually wide belly, one that foreshadowed a strong and vigorous heir to the throne. But... was it just one?

Warning: pregnancy, labor and childbirth (mostly mentioned, no real graphic descriptions), the story is mostly through Baldwin's perspective

The situation was unlikely, to say the least. For instance, the whole kingdom had gotten used to the thought of their king never fathering a child of his own. It was why they always kept Sybilla close, after all: to ensure an heir with her son, lest they did not find a more fit candidate for the crown. And one could’ve claimed that Baldwin had been waiting so long to name his young nephew his successor as a result of that caution so typical of his every action, but those who knew him better knew the truth.

He was hopeful, perhaps even foolishly so. He dreamed of being eased from this blight of his by God, even in just a small part. His life had already been immolated to repent the sins of his kin, but why should be denied of giving life, when he still had some? Why couldn’t he father a child, not even many, just one would suffice.

During some of his many prayers, he’d pray for such a blessing. Bandaged hands pressed together, elbows bent, resting on the dark wood of the kneeler; his head was low, his voice muffled by the thick barrier of his mask. He prayed for forgiveness, as always, and just as often he then prayed for guidance. And when he felt most selfish, that was when he added one last prayer for this one favor, this one child.

He felt even more of a fool than before when he then had his servants help him up, when the prayer was over. He felt he insisted on asking for something he knew he’d never have. But just like the physicians had excluded the chance of his ever fathering any offspring, so did they exclude the chance of him ever riding on a horse again, or fighting into battle, or live long enough to see the day he’d be wed to anyone. They had been proven wrong so many a time before, why should this one time be any different?

It was the young man in him speaking so foolishly, he was aware of that. No king should ever dwell so long on such a foolish matter. He had his heir, a direct child of his own bloodline. He should leave the matter, and focus what little would be left of his life to his duties that kept the kingdom alive and safe.

Yet each night he left those duties to reach his bed for a deeply desired rest. Each night his wife would be already there, standing by the windows like the most holy of visions. And each night she’d guide him to bed, and he’d run his hands over her hair, underneath her nightgown, down her sacred body. And the sweet embrace that followed was the start of a newfound hope, of that same wish he had harbored all day before and had tried to muffle down for just as long.

But how could he blamed for wanting a child, if not for the natural wish to have one, then for the blessing that would be fathering a child to a woman such as his beloved wife. She grew more beautiful with each breath, in his eyes, and each word he uttered made her more and more wise. 

He was teased at court for his infatuation with his queen. Of that, he was well aware. But he never did anything to put them to silence; he liked hearing his love being compared to that of the knights of the many ballads from the land of his fathers. It was surely better than the vile comments about his illness, anyway. But regardless of that, the point in his head was that no one should need any more reason to understand why he’d want to be a father, when his luck in love bested anyone else in this kingdom.

And so he was even more startled when he came to find his prayers were answered.

“Would you repeat that?”

“The queen is with child, your Grace. The symptoms are clear. Any movement is not yet to be seen, but it won’t be long before it is certain.”

“..Call the queen to my chambers as soon as she is disposed.”

The physician tried to feign his surprise, but it was a hard task. It was difficult for everyone to understand just how such a thing could occur. Of course, the bitter tongues of court would’ve wanted to spread soon away the venomous accusations of the queen’s infidelity, but it just wouldn’t have been plausible. The queen was faithful to her husband, she had not once left the palace without the king in months, nor had she received any valiant guests, or slept with anyone but her own husband in their shared chambers.

It was just so infuriatingly impossible that the babe couldn’t have been anyone’s but Baldwin’s! But then again, until the babe moved, a pregnancy was an uncertain thing. And so the weeks passed, and the child soon kicked with vigor inside his mother’s womb.

And as everything of this situation, the rest of the pregnancy was all one big mystery. First, she craved sweets, an indisputable sign of a girl to come. But then she favored salty meats and sour fruits, and no physician at court could tell if it would be a girl or a boy anymore. And then she looked radiant through every second of the pregnancy, yet the belly was round and wider by the day. It became worrisome how wide it had grown, in fact. Some physicians began to fear for the worst, for some complications with the child or more likely the demise of the queen during birth.

It haunted Baldwin. Such joyful news felt stained by the imminent danger of possibly lose his child or wife, perhaps even both of them. And he could do little to defeat God’s plans on one’s life. That, he knew far too well.

But he wasn’t entirely powerless before this distressing matter. No, he could still give her all he could, from the most comfortable of pillows, to the best of flowers, and down to the most accurate recreations of her cravings. Whether this months would be her last or whether the child won’t see the light of day, Baldwin made it his one greater duty to give her what most women could only dream in the months of their pregnancy.

And then the water broke, and she along with her maidens were closed off in her own chambers. Baldwin wasn’t allowed in, at least not until the babe was out and checked. And so he waited, patiently, agonizingly. He waited outside, in the hall, ignoring the pain of his joint or the exhaustion of his mind. She was facing far greater pains, he thought each time a new ache mate itself known in his body. 

But if such a wait would be agonizing in any condition, the risk of it possibly being the cause of his love’s demise made it all the more painful, all the more unbearable. He had to stand outside and listen to every groan, every cry, every scream. The labor was long, the door sealed, the ladies inside adamant that such moment would not be compromised.

It was the end of the second day of labor. The light of sunset peaked through the corners of the dawn. It looked like fire to Baldwin, like the very same doors of hell. If anything, such a gruesome thought was fueled by the deafening silence that had replaced the frenzy inside the room. Those were quiet, agonizing moments, where he had to remind himself to breathe, or else he would’ve soon succumbed to the lack of air in his lungs.

And then he heard it: the wailing of a child, a sound so raspy and loud and full of all life’s strength. And the fire of the sunset turned back into bright rays of the sun, and all around him, things felt lighter. Everything felt hopeful.

He all but ignored the customs of such occasions right then and there. When the doors opened and a maid opened her mouth to announce the babe’s birth, he had almost pushed her out of the way to rush to his wife’s side. He took her hand, sweaty and trembling like his own underneath the bandages.

“Where… where is…” he struggled to speak, to breathe. Surely it was mostly caused by the exhaustion he had procured himself during the wait of the labor, but an evenly great cause was the sheer emotions of what he had just been given by God. By her,

She lifted her free hand with the weak remnants of her strength. She pointed at where the maids and a few physicians were fussing around a table. They were checking and cleaning the babe. By tradition, Baldwin should’ve waited outside, and they would’ve brought the babe up to him for him to see and declared his child and possibly heir.

But since he was here, there was no point in making him wait..

The maids brought a bundle of fine silks to the king; blue, like the color of the proud house of the monarch. “Your highness, your son is here.”

The words echoed through Baldwin’s words like a far tune. He wished he could take the veil covering his mingled face, to hold his son as it would be proper. But he couldn’t, and he knew it. The babe was healthy, and so was the mother: the physicians were positive that it would survive the contact to the leper father, yet the sight of such a mutilated face could risk the most fearful reaction in a boy so small.

But holding him like this would suffice just as much. He looked back at his wife while his arms were busy holding the boy. She was visibly tired, perhaps even pained, but she found it in her to smile nonetheless. But his wife’s joyful eyes and his son’s soft weeping did little to muffle the worried mumbles of the maids.

“What is it that worries you?” He didn’t even try to hide his concern in his tone. He was worried, scared, terrified, even. And if they knew anything if this deal, he wished to know it all.

The servants paled. Clearly they wished to find the right words quickly and efficiently, in hopes of soothing their king. “I-It’s just her belly that startles us, your Grace. The babe is healthy, but far too small to explain such round dimensions..”

“Then what do you suggest is the meaning of this?”

“Excluding any ill fate, her Grace may still be bearing a child.” And as if on tune, the torturous contractions caught the queen again, not even an hour later. Given the worry of another child on the go, sparked by one of the eldest maids, bless her heart, nobody left the room to stay prepared if the case of another child was to occur. This quickened the process even if just by a little. But the king’s presence caused many maids to fuss, especially those with more experience on these delicate births.

He was escorted out with impressive haste, just before the contractions resumed. 

And again he stood there, helpless and waiting patiently for the unknown fate of his beloved wife. Another hour passed before the doors opened again. Baldwin was horrified at the sight of the midwife who opened the door for him; she was elderly, clearly having seen more births than anyone in that room had ever seen in their lives. Yet she was pale, shocked. Baldwin feared the worst.

“Where is the queen?” In his voice, the trepidatious hesitation was as clear as daylight. The woman lowered her gaze obsequiously, as it would have been proper for her to have done from the beginning, speaking to the king.

“She is resting, your highness. The births have been tiring beyond measure.”

“ Births?”

“Yes, your Highness. Her majesty has given you no less than three babes.”

Baldwin felt groggy. A single child was already a living miracle for him, and he blessed every saint whose name he had ever heard for this gift. But three? What immense event had just happened? Which angel had he been fortunate enough to marry, who had enlightened his life.

“Three? How? What are they like? Are they all well?” His words were stumbling over each other like a child eager to hear a secret. The midwife, slightly overwhelmed by his sudden enthusiasm, managed a small nod.

“Yes, your Highness, all three are in good health. Two boys and a girl, blessings from the heavens indeed. But they are… quite small, your Grace. Premature, but the Lord granted them a strong will to live, it seems. They are currently with the queen, who is also in surprisingly good spirits, considering the ordeal she has just faced. She insisted on seeing you as soon as the physicians allowed you to enter her chambers."

Her words were enough. Baldwin had heard enough. Now he needed to see, in hopes of seeing what sounded like a mirage come to be. His cerulean eyes were still wide in shock and wonder, the only peak at his current turmoil behind the white silk of the veil covering his wretched face. He took a deep breath, which did little to ease his beating heart and hazy mind. "I… I must come to her at once.. Yes.. yes, it is best if I do.."

The midwife nodded her understanding, though the fear in her eyes was palpable. She knew the customs and the risks better than anyone in this room, but she was also aware of the king's desperation. "Your Grace, the physicians are still… attending to your wife. It might be better if you waited just a bit longer, until they ensure she is well enough to receive you."

Her objections fell to deaf ears. The young king was already making his way forward into the queen's quarters. The midwife's voice seemed to fade away from his mind as soon as his foot passed through the doorstep. Everything else seemed to disappear all the same, in fact. All that Baldwin could see, all that he could focus on, was right before his eyes. There she was, splayed on the bed just as she was before, though twice as exhausted. She glowed brighter than the Holy Grace in that moment, despite the sweat that clung to her body and clothes, despite the faint stains of blood pooled around her womb.

And then he turned, and there, in the corner of the room, was the table where the physicians had placed the babes to ensure their health. The babes. His babes. He had thought that nothing could be more overwhelming than the love he felt for his wife, yet the moment his eyes fell upon them, he realized he was wrong. The emotions that flooded his heart were too strong to be contained by his human shell. The two boys were wrapped in soft linens, and their tiny hands were curled into fists as if they were already thrilling to face the world. The girl, on the other hand, had her eyes open, staring straight at him as if she had known him all her life, which she had, in a way. Her eyes were so big that one would've mistook them for round gems, Baldwin was sure of that. And staring into those oceans of blue felt like plunging into an endless void from which he was not sure there was a way to escape, nor did he wish to find one. He thanked God that the other two children were still asleep, lest their own gazes gave him the final blow to his already weakened heart.

The physicians looked at him, all of them in awe of the king’s condition. They had never seen the Leper King so… so alive, so full of color and vigor. It was like watching a man who had just been granted a second chance at life, and they were all too aware of the gravity of the moment to dare interrupt it. If the main worry had been whether or not he ever would've had an heir of his own before, now it was whether or not these little miracles would be spared from the same wretched destiny their father had been bestowed with. For now, the physicians could find nothing but good signs of health, but would that last for long? The question stayed in the air, lingering, unspoken, unanswered.

"Baldwin?" The voice was faint, but the king's ears, ever so sharp, caught it immediately. It was his wife's, groggy and weak, yet still filled with a warmth that could've melted any heart, even the most icy one of them all. He rushed to her side, his boots echoing in the chamber like thunder. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed over by the pain of childbirth, yet still gleaming with the spark of life. And she smiled. As tiredly as it was, she smiled up at him just as she'd done a million times and more. He smiled back at her, too, though the veil over his face prevented her from seeing anything more than the way his eyes were curving up into small half-moons. Her hand weakly moved up to that same veil, weak and shaky, yet determined to admire the face of the man whose children she just gave birth to. He obliged to her silent request with a trembling haste, as quickly to obey as a devoted knight to his princess.

Her gaze took a moment to adjust to the light that reflected from the window behind them through the stark white of the veil's fabric, but she never once averted her eyes. They were still beautiful, those eyes of his, as blue as the sea and as piercing as the sharpest blade. His skin, however mangled by his cursed diseas, was a sight she had grown accustomed to. The leprosy was leaving its marks, sure enough. But she didn’t see a monster. She didn’t see a king. She just saw her husband. And he knew that in that gaze of hers there was anything but judgement.

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, feeling her warmth, feeling life emanating from her. The same life she had just given him, not once, but thrice over. "I can't believe it," he whispered, his voice hoarse from the tension of the past hours. "Three… three miracles."

The emotional edge to his voice was an unusual sight for anyone who knew the young king. Yet she paid no mind to it. No man safe of mind with an ounce of a heart would have any other reaction, given their current situation. A small, weak huff that supposedly resembled a laugh came out of the woman's lips, followed by an equally weak and raspy voice. "Three, no more this time. This, I promise you."

Her words were a jest, yet they bore the weight of a thousand truths. The queen was known for her strength, but even she had her limits. Giving birth to three lives at once would draw that limits to most. The room felt warmer than before, perhaps due to the sheer joy that had flooded it. Or perhaps it was the heat of the many candles that had burned themselves to the end to bring light to this moment.

Baldwin's eyes sought hers, and for a moment, he saw himself reflected in her pupils. His fears, his hopes, his love. The sight of his skin was stark in the candlelight, paler in some spots than she had ever seen before. The leprosy had claimed more of him than ever before. Yet she didn't recoil, didn't even flinch. Instead, she reached up to gently trace his cheek with a trembling hand. Her touch was feather-light, a stark contrast to the roughness of his own skin. And all she could see, all she cold feel was the presence of the man she had promised to love, through sickness and health, till death did them part. He leaned close to her, slave to her every command. Her lips, tired and soft, brushed against the numb skin of his cheek. A shaky breath left his lips. And his eyes closed.

The world seemed to have resumed its cycle, at last. Baldwin felt the faint whiff of air against his skin with his wife's every breath. The muffled whines of the triplets quietly echoed against the walls of the queen's chamber. They'd soon be brought to Baldwin, for him to admire each one of his children and to have their mother tend to them as she'd wished to do. But not yet. For now, Baldwin let himself feel. The rays of the sun felt warmer against his skin, perhaps because they now felt like the testament to the blessing he's been entrusted with by his Lord. The blessing which was now resting amidst the cures of physicians and midwives alike, the blessing to which Baldwin would immolate his life to, from this day forward.

Can you make more head canons for Baldwin? Like what would he do if you two got into an argument etc etc.

King Baldwin x reader - Arguing with you

A/N: Sure thing sweetie!! I must apologize though, I only did the argument part because I didn't really have much time left and I didn't know what else to add. Hope you'll still like it though!

As always, painting is King Lear, Act I, Scene I by Edwin Austin Abbey :))

Warning: none, literally. Should f!reader a warning? If yes then there's that

Firs of all, Baldwin does not argue with you. He's a pacifist at heart, he always prefers talking things through and negotiate to get out of hard situations. To him, that is a form of respect, the desire to talk as equals and not trying to impose his own will on the other

And since he does that with his enemies, how could he not give you the same treatment? You, who lighten his days darkened by his duties and his sickness, you who save him from the burden of his own thoughts

And even if you tended to be more on the aggressive/prone to arguments side, he still wouldn't budge, and just keep on talking but most of all LISTENING, Baldwin respects you more than anyone else, your thoughts are sacred to him and should be treated as such!

If the argument is about something that he did to upset you, be it an unpleasant comment or a forgotten appointment (only happened once and it was because he had been kept busy by his counselors), he will do anything to make you feel any better

If the argument is about his tendencies to neglect his own health, then good luck with that because his own moral code physically prevents him from letting go of his duties to favor resting and trying to better his condition. Still, he will reassure you with gentle touches and soft words that he understands your worries, and you are the sweetest angel to care so much about him

But he cannot let his kingdom to fend for itself just because of a bad day for his leper body, he will have to wait until the evening to be reunited with you and finally let himself rest, your own anger at his stubborness long gone as you cradle his head on your lap. You still appreciate his soft apologies as you caress his mangled face, though

Now, speaking about what he'll do to make it up to you for any argument- or mostly, things that he did that upset you since he doesn't really argue with you

First of all, he will excuse himself for having upset you in the first place, listening to your every word to understand precisely what exactly it is that he did that he will avoid making again

Then, he will try to get any form of physical contact with you. He needs it, desperately, having been so isolated from any human touch for years other than his physicians'

Hell, he might even kneel for you if it meant having your forgiveness, if it meant being able to hug your legs like the supplicants of the ancient books he read about

If you'll let him get close to you, he'll kiss you all over while he'll keep apologizing and openly reflect on the things that he will change to make it up properly. Kinda reminds me of Gomez and Morticia on that scene (hence the painting I chose)

And after you will have forgiven him, that night he'll hold you a little closer, whispering sweet apologies while you sleep soundly, unaware of how dedicated your husband is to learn from his mistakes

All in all, I really don't see Baldwin as someone you'd ever argue with, but that doesn't stop him from making up for his every mistake like he'd caused you the worst of wrongs

You're his Heaven, and he'll treat you as such

Hi! Could you please do a part two to the lester/apollo x reader fic you posted?

Apollo x reader - Eternal Bonds

A/N: thank you so much for your request, anon! Sorry if this took a bit more than the time I usually take to write my fics, but as I said the past weeks have been really tiring for me🥹 

Anyway, I hope you like this fic, I personally like it better than the first part, but as always let me know your thoughts on it<3

Aaaand as always, painting is "Springtime" by Pierre Auguste Cot for anyone interested!

Summary: Having regained his immortality and prestige, all that remained for Apollo was to stabilise something in his life was one thing: you. It might sound easy, but he honestly would disagree.

Warning: it is implied that Athena has a great admiration for reader, but they’re not their child. This reconnects with my own personal thoughts on how Athena’s cabin should work, so the goddess’ relationship with reader in this fic should be seen as the same as hers and Odysseus’ (if you want further explanations on what their dynamic was let me know:))) Also I must say, I haven’t read any of the trials of Apollo books in ages so I took it as an occasion to interpret Apollo’s return to Olympus how I see it more fit to this little scenario of mine.

And lastly, not a warning but this fic starts just a bit before the end of the first part, if anyone was wondering:)

Word count: 3813 (longest fic yet omgg)

Apollo stood there, standing on the elevator that would take him home. How strange, he had dreamed of this moment for months, eager to return to his home and be welcomed as a glorious hero, with restored dignity, free of the mortal shell in which he had been confined all this time. He had imagined himself proud, tall and triumphant as he entered the gates of Olympus.

Yet as he stood on his way home, he could not prevent the continuous movement of his foot against the elevator floor. There was no trace in him of the security typical of a hero, in him at that time reigned only the same anxiety and nervousness that had characterized his mortal form. First it was Apollo inside Lester’s body, now Apollo had his body back, but Lester was inside of him. That Lester had become an integral part of him? Or maybe it didn’t add up, maybe it was always there, unable to make its voice heard under the omnipresent spirit of Apollo.

Okay, maybe he was rambling, but he couldn’t help it when he felt like his nerves were about to make him explode!

The point was, he wasn’t just going home, he was going to convince his father, the king of the gods, the exact same person who kicked him out of Olympus, to make the love of his life immortal so that he could stay by his side for eternity. It was not a situation in which one could easily remain connected to reality.

Finally, the elevator slowed down its run, until it stopped completely and opened its doors with a characteristic "ding".

Slowly, one step at a time, Apollo stepped out of the elevator and advanced to the throne room, walking up the path that would take him directly there. His performance had an air of regal composure, but it was nothing more than a method of masking his tense nerves. He walked until he reached the first areas inhabited by the Olympians and some other immortal creature.

"Apollo? I didn’t know you were already back. We thought it would take you millennia to make it up to Zeus!!" He hadn’t heard it in a while, but there was no way he could ever forget the sound of Nike’s voice. The winged goddess came to meet him flying curiously, also attracting the attention of the entities that had not paid attention to the scene so far.

Some approached, recognizing the face of the beloved god, while others ran to announce his return to the major gods. First came Hestia, who with that loving family attitude, embraced him gently. "Oh Apollo, you were so good! I never doubted you could do it." 

"I can’t say that with as much confidence, but I must congratulate you, Apollo, you have exceeded all my expectations." It was the authoritarian voice of Athena who spoke, who wore a smile on her face, a more unique than rare event. Apollo was so surprised by this unusual compliment from her that he hardly paid any attention to her questioning his chances of success.

For a moment he felt his eyes almost come out of his skull when a large hand was planted on his shoulder to pat him. " Well done, little brother, aren’t you as soft as you look, eh?" Massaging his shoulder, Apollo smiled faintly at the mountain that was his half-brother. "Thanks, Ares, it means a lot I guess..."

He was about to receive the coup de grâce, if it were not for Aphrodite, unconscious of her intervention, she had put herself right in the middle, affectionately placing one hand on Apollo’s shoulder while the other not very secretly found place in that of Ares, to the delight of Hephaestus who observed snorting away from the scene, but thumbs up at the sun god to express his joy.

He didn’t know how long this lasted, or exactly how many gods surrounded him at that point, but when Nike was about to hold a banquet in his honor he couldn’t control his reaction: "No wait!" His tone sounded so panicked that he caught everyone unawares. For a moment the gods almost had the sensation of speaking a mortal, so much his voice had squeaked in the air. Realizing that he had drawn even more attention to you, as if it were even possible in that situation, he gently shrugged his shoulders, to mitigate the gaze of the Olympians his nerves more tense than ever.

"Um I-" he made a false cough to try to regain his posture before starting to speak again, illuminating his companions with a dazzling smile, "sorry, mortal’s pollen, am I right? Anyway, much as I would be... ecstatic to attend a banquet, I’m afraid I must first have a discussion with Zeus about some... matters of utmost urgency! If you’ll excuse me, now.”

With little pomp, he made his way through the crowd stunned at his unusual behavior. "Poor thing, the Earth has changed him." Someone shook their head resigned, someone else did not even notice his abrupt exit, simply saying goodbye and congratulating him as he got smaller and smaller in the distance. The attention to him lasted just before each god went for their merry way. After all, when you have a whole eternity to live, there are few things left for you for a long time.

Everyone resumed doing what they were doing before Apollo’s return, all except Athena. It was in her nature to predict the rival’s moves- or rather, the moves of anyone around her. She may not have been born with the ability to see the future, but her intellect allowed her to come to conclusions almost as apt as an oracle. Silent as night, he followed the solar god, whose aura seemed to be clouded by some heavy burden.

The closer he got to the heavy bronze doors of the throne room, the lighter his head felt, as if his brain had gone numb. He was mathematically certain that he had NEVER felt so nervous in his entire existence. Not even his many figures in human form could compare to how he was feeling at the time. But it’s not like he could back out now, not after all the way he’s come, not after promising you not to leave your side. Not now, that had arrived in front of the doors.

He didn’t even have to knock, or announce his own name. No use, Zeus was waiting for him. Apollo took a breath, pumping his chest to emulate some sense of confidence before making his way into the vast hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked around and looked at the empty thrones, each with small inlays reminiscent of its owner. He passed by his own throne, and a sense of longing pervaded him to the thought that in no time he would have sat there again. Maybe you could convince Zeus to put a similar throne for you next to his own..

No, stay focused, Apollo, first of all he had to convince Zeus to make them immortal in the first place.

Without even realizing it, he was so taken by his own thoughts, he had reached the end of the room, finding himself a few feet from the king of Olympus. Now he could not afford to show himself weak, fearful. Come on, it had to come easy for him, he was also the god of the theater after all! As if a thread pulled him from above, he felt himself erect tall and proud, his chest out, his muscular back straight; a slight halo of light surrounded him, reconferendogli a little of that shine that has always distinguished him from the rest of the gods. He smiled at his father before bowing down gracefully. "It’s good to see you again, Father."

“Apollo, I see it took you no time to get used to your old life once more. I trust you have learned your lesson.”

“Indeed, father. And I came here to thank you for it all. It was… better than I expected.” Zeus lifted a brow suspiciously, eyeing his son as if trying to make out what’s in his mind just by his appearance. “Mmh I hardly believe that you only came here to thank me for your punishment.” Okay, even if he had second thoughts, it was DEFINITELY too late to back out. Yet despite the seriousness of the situation, Apollo no longer felt the same anxiety that had accompanied him throughout the climb to Olympus. He felt powerful, confident in his words, in his actions, but above all confident in you. He knew that if ever there was a mortal worthy of immortality, it was most certainly you. He looked up at his father, this time his smile had become less dazzling, almost a little nervous.

“Heh, you’re not wrong, father. I came here to make a request.”

“Depends. What is it that you desire?”

“How do you make a demigod immortal?”

Total silence fell in the room. The expression of Zeus was intelligible, and not being able to read the true emotions of Apollo, moreover in such a silent environment did not help to calm his nervousness. Zeus slowly blinked, covering his icy eyes for a moment before opening them again as he breathed in just as slowly. " Few mortals have earned the gift of immortality throughout history. He must deserve that honor with out-of-the-ordinary feats," he paused, as if to reflect, then resumed speaking, in a neutral but glacial and authoritative tone, "this is not impossible, but I count on one bare hand how many times a mortal has been added to the abode of the immortals over the millennia."

"I am aware of this, Father, and that is precisely why I believe that the person I speak of is the most deserving of this honor." Zeus did not answer. Not immediately, at least. He seemed confused and intrigued at the same time, as if he had not expected such a response. " My son, what do you mean by that?" Apollo could not avoid the smile that spread on his face having an opportunity to talk about your countless qualities, which in his eyes were endless. It was one of his favorite activities even when he was mortal, actually.

"You see father, they are a demigod of qualities worthy only of an immortal god. They are strong and wise, although they are still at a young age. They fear nothing but the limits imposed by Olympus, which they have served since the day they set foot inside Camp Half-Blood."He took a little dramatic pause, perhaps expecting to be interrupted by the divine father, but he gave no sign of wanting to intervene in words; he preferred to remain silent, peering at his son while he justified his reasons for satisfying his will.

"And they are beautiful, Father. They shine with a beauty far beyond that of an ordinary mortal. Even on the battlefield, soiled with blood and filth of all kinds, their beauty always resembled that of Aphrodite and Eros and all the gods of all the Pantheons of this world who possess the gift of supreme beauty." To this the father could not suppress a snort of derision, not trusting the words of the son in fact of beauty, "If I remember well such words were spoken by you also for Hyacinth, and before him Daphne, and before her still such a long series of river nymphs and mortal beings that I lost count."

Apollo lowered his head in resignation, sighing gently before looking up to speak again, "I realize this, Father, but I mention their beauty only because it would be a crime against all that is right to omit. However, it remains only one of the many qualities that characterize them, which none of my past lovers can say. But that is not the greatest reason why I consider them worthy of immortality."

"Speak openly then, you know I don’t like to wait." The blond-haired god nodded and took another step towards the king of the gods, his eyes even brighter than before, inflamed by his longing desire to obtain what he most desired in his entire existence. You, at his side. Forever.

"You see, they have done a great service to the goddess of wisdom and the manual arts. They have done the will of Athena and have done such glorious deeds that they have increased her honor. I myself was able to attend only some of their quests, but I assure you that they were so great as to justify the support and blessing of a goddess so hardly affable." To these words, Zeus seemed completely incredulous. In Olympus it was well known that Athena was the beloved daughter of the king of the gods, who always kept her close to him and always made all her will an uncompromising law. It seemed impossible to him that any mortal had been able to win the favor of the goddess, and he strongly doubted the veracity of Apollo’s claim.

The young god opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a voice echoing from behind him, "As much as the idea of supporting Apollo’s petty whims, this time I must agree with him." Athena had followed Apollo to the throne room, suspicious of his strange behavior. He had to be honest, Apollo literally had no idea what to say at that moment; he did not expect to get to that point with his interview and certainly did not expect Athena’s support in his intent. But this was a real blessing, for she herself could bear witness to your worth.

She only gave him a scowling look, like a silent admonition to avoid yelling at him, pick up your mouth from the ground and be a god, genius! But his silver eyes were enough to relay the message, and after a moment Apollo had returned to his usual divine bearing. She blinked slowly before turning her eyes again to Zeus.

"Y/N Y/L is a demigod of undeniable quality, which also left me pleasantly surprised. It is true, they have diligently served Olympus and have especially served me, and I have let them fight in my name precisely because their wit deserved such honor. If only it were possible, I would claim them as my own child, for only twice in my existence have I met two mortal men of equal virtue, and those mortals were the king of Ithaca and your son Hercules, to whom you rightly granted immortality.

You know that I do not speak in vain when I express my opinion, and that is why I consider them worthy to also obtain the gift of immortality, especially when to these incredibly successful quests are added the love of a god and the admiration of another." 

Now Zeus observed the two with two comically wide eyes, mostly due to the unexpected intervention of Athena. Even Apollo could not hide his amazement from that sudden help, but he certainly did not complain at all. Three beats passed, then Zeus cleared his voice and I speak in a more serene tone than before, though still authoritarian, "Very well, if you yourself, Athena, consider this mortal worthy of so many honors I want to believe you. Your lover will be granted immortality, Apollo. This will happen at sundown, when you bring your chariot back here to Olympus. Lead them with you, and they can live forever here with you."

"Yes!!" Apollo threw a fist in the air for joy, a small habit he had taken in his stay on earth, but soon after he realized that perhaps it was not quite the right place to give free rein to his happiness, judging by the unimpressed face of Zeus, "Um, I apologize. I thank you father, for this wonderful gift. I assure you that you will not regret it!" He slowly stepped back as he spoke to him with the biggest smile on his face, extending his arms and bending his knees in a farewell bow. Zeus, for the first time in what seemed like centuries, smiled at Apollo and nodded slightly.

"Enjoy this concession of mine, my son, and may it remain in your mind as your reward for having demonstrated your qualities, even without the intervention of your divinity."

"I’ll never forget it. They’ll never let me!" With some other ceremonious thanksgiving, which they had little given the haste and irrepressible joy of the sun god, Apollo rushed down to Olympus, hastening as much as possible to reach his beloved in the place where they had met. He looked at a clock to see how much time he had left. 7 P.M., he still had some time left. He ran like a madman, until he saw the entrance of the familiar Campo approaching. He ignored everyone around him, his perplexed children, his disappointed fangirls, his friends not too surprised to see him running like a bullet through the field, with the biggest smile they’d ever seen on him. Only Meg had a vague feeling about what exactly happened, but even if she did, she didn’t say anything and just looked at him smiling before going back to her things.

Apollo entered the forest next to the Camp and continued to run. Lucky he was back in his cool form, if he was still Lester would have collapsed out of breath for half an hour. And then finally, he finally arrived at your rendezvous point. She found you there, gently lying on moss, slumbering from the weariness of the activities at the Camp and from the worries you had freed yourself of the previous day, in that exact same place, when you had finally found your beloved. Apollo was quivering, thinking how you would react to the awakening, among the golden blankets of his heavenly palace. What would you have said seeing your body invigorated and illuminated by immortality. What would you have felt seeing that his declarations of eternal love were not fallacious, but promises that he had dedicated himself body and soul to keep.

He gently picked you up, taking care not to wake you. He invoked his golden chariot and rode with you to your new home. He kept you close, as much as he was physically allowed by the confined space. The journey did not last long, being facilitated by the godly transport; once arrived right in front of the golden gates of the Apollonian abode, he took you back in his bridal style, leading you to his- your bed. You were stretched out just as he saw your skin begin to shimmer gently, its color gradually became richer and filled with eternally vital sap. He stood by your side, filling your neck and shoulders with kisses as he crouched behind you, eagerly awaiting your rebirth as a deity.

In the morning you woke up with a strong light that dazzled you. You thought it was Apollo, who since he had returned to his true form had regained all the lustre of his nature. But no, it wasn’t him; it was you, whose skin emanated a faint light that bounced against the various gold inlays that were in the bedroom. Yeah, you didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed, the last thing you remembered was lying in the forest moss while you waited for Apollo. Wait a minute, this isn’t even a room in Camp Half-Blood! 

You did it to snap up to the alert, but then you stopped when you felt the familiar touch of Apollo caressing your shoulder, sliding towards the back of your neck and passing through your hair, which had been twice as long as the day before. Normally you would have yawned, but it didn’t seem physically possible to experience any fatigue in the state you were in. You felt... almighty. You finally turned your attention away from your body and turned it towards Apollo, who was already looking at you with a loveless look.

"Good morning, beautiful." You smiled though still confused by the situation you were in. Tempting your luck, you took a sigh and then you spoke, your melodic, honey-sweet voice even though you just woke up, "'Chicken, where are we?"

"We are in Olympus my dear. I promised you that I would not forget you, that I would love you forever. And I meant every single word I said, which is why I had a little conversation with Zeus earlier, and well... let’s just say with a little help I was able to convince him to give you immortality." He said it with the biggest and most satisfied smile I’d ever seen on him, and meanwhile he hugged you and held you and caressed you all over his body, as if to confirm himself that all this was true.

You were utterly speechless, incredulous at what this god had just done in the name of love for you, but at the same time you felt a warm feeling pervading you from within, filling you with joy and happiness, as if that of him had infected you like a disease. You held your hands to his face and laughed in disbelief and said, "You’re the biggest crazy idiot I’ve ever met, Lester!" 

He laughed with you, feeling pervaded by this joy that moved him from within, almost pushing him to tears by the power of these feelings. Holding you tighter, she stroked your silky soft hair as she chuckled happily, "I guess you’ll have to get used to the gold and clouds here." " Still better than a bunk bed to share in five."

Laughing together, you held each other so long as you had time, before he had to take off and lead the sun across the sky. Before he got on the golden chariot, he touched your face with his bronze hands and kissed you gently. " I still can’t believe I’m gonna be able to kiss these lips forever, Y/N." You smiled at him before you grabbed him by the shoulder to push him towards you, and kissed him again. " Then hurry up and leave, so you’ll be back soon and I’ll have a chance to convince you that everything is real." Winking at him, he laughed loudly and heartily, a more melodic sound than any lyre or flute.

"Then I shall not be long in returning to your arms, my lord" And so he departed towards the horizon, and you smiled as you watched him disappear into the sky, thinking with satisfaction of the world that will look up to him with longing and admiration, knowing that he will never again stop for anyone but you, once his daily duties are over. 

Hi!! i love your writing sm, i was just wondering if I could be added to your tag list anytime you post King Baldwin IV fanfics? if not, that's okay!

Omg thank you so much😭😭 Absolutely yes!! I'll tag you right away on the last fic (that I literally just finished writing lmaoo).

Also, if you like how I write his character then I'm sure you'll love the series I'm gonna start writing very very soon :3

Hi everyone

Thank you so much for all the support lately, it really means a lot!

Sadly I've been quite busy lately because of school, work and family matters, so I kind of stopped writing in the past days.

I was actually working on a bunch of unrequested fics, but since I've recieved a few requests I'll focus on those first, and I'm pretty positive that I'll be able to publish them by the end of the working week but I won't make promises.

I won't make any spoilers about neither of these fics, but I'll just say, they're both about two characters whose fics I've written have been really like by the readers...

cough cough Baldwin and Lester cough cough

Sooo that is all for now, I'm starting to work on both fics, I really hope to be able to post them asap.

Bye everyoneeee hope you have a wonderful day and week💕💕💕

Luke Castellan x Child of Apollo!reader - Last date

A/N: guys I’ve still got a few pics that are coming out in this weekend, after those are out I’ll probably create a first masterlist!! Also, there are two series that are going to start in the near future, one for king Baldwin and another one for Countess Nadia so if you’re interested stay tuned!

P.S.: this time I don't know where the paining is from, so if you know whose artist is this from please tell me, I'd really appreciate the help☺️

Warning: angst, mentions of betrayal, SPOILERS for the PJO story (whether it’s books, series or movies). Oh and reader is described as female

I think Luke would’ve been restless for weeks trying to figure out what to say to you when the time would’ve come for him to reveal his secret alliance with Kronos, what words would be best fit to make the idea sound more appealing, to increase the chances of you joining him against the Olympians

But as much as he pondered his words, as much as he tried to convince himself that in the end you’d choose him, there was this feeling he had that you wouldn’t follow him this time. And that made him spiral even further, made him try to push down the dooming feeling and focus instead on how to sound even more convincing, how to just get him to listen to him… or more precisely, listen to Kronos

But deep down, he knew that his choices were gonna make him lose you

Although at some point Luke finally seemed to realize that he got so lost in his own thoughts that he started neglecting you. Well, he didn’t really realize it on his own, it was Connor who made him snap back to reality with his dumb jokes

“Hey Luke you keep ignoring your girl and I’m just gonna steal her away. Bet you wouldn’t even notice huh.” Yeah he got a few slaps on the back of his neck for that

But Connor’s harmless words were not so wrong. He didn’t even realize how long it’s been since he even talked to you properly other than kissing you good morning and goodnight

He didn’t even realize how close the end of summer was getting, which, if he didn’t succeed, might’ve been the last months the two of you would spend together

After a little pause to just panic and frantically walk around the Hermes’ cabin trying to make out what to do, he got an idea

You’ve always love theaters, not only to watch the plays, but also to bask in the atmosphere of it all

And he remembered that when he stumbled upon an abandoned theater in a town not too far from Camp

He knew right then and there that he was gonna take you there that night, so that you could forgive him for his absence and he could forget about the rest on the world and focus on you. Nothing else but you

It didn’t take long for him to steal find a necklace that he knew you would’ve loved to wear, a little trinket that would make him be always near to your heart, even when he wouldn’t have been by your side anymore

He left it in a nice little box on your pillow, along with a little note…

I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ll make it up to you I swear. Meet me at the forest tonight I’m taking you to a place

Your mild disappointment in Luke’s absence quickly morphed into curiosity as you held the note in you hand, holding the necklace close to your heart as you tried to fight back the smile at the thought of his mysterious surprise 

Once you reached your rendezvous, he was already there, impatiently waiting for you, holding his hand out to you with an apologetic smile

The walk to the theater, which you still didn’t know was your last stop, was about two hours long, and you mostly spend that time walking silently hand in hand, exchanging very few words

Silence wasn’t anything new between you two, it was actually quite common for you to spend some silent, quality time in each other’s company, with no sound but the world around you

But this time felt different, you could feel that his silence had ulterior motives other than the comfort of quietness

You asked him about it, and he brushed it off saying that his counselor duties have worn him out lately. It was the biggest lie he could’ve told you, but you didn’t question the truth of his words

Because you’d trusted him completely since day one

It broke his heart even further to see how blindly you believed his excuses, so oblivious of the true reason behind his weird behavior. It made him wonder, how broken will you be when you’ll find out the truth

For a moment though, even if brief, all his sorrows disappeared when you finally reached the grandiose abandoned theater, whose splendor still made it stand out despite years of neglect, and your eyes lit up like two new stars to be added to the night sky

You basically rushed him in at that point, earning a laugh from him as he followed you inside

Once you were right before the stage, he swiftly got on top of it before turning around and charmingly offering you his hand to help you up as well

He looked at you for a second, almost entering in a trance as he got lost in the sight of you. But once you called him out, he sheepishly laughed before moving to grab his phone in his pocket, putting some music on before placing it on the ground and turning once again towards you

He knelt before you dramatically, speaking with a mockingly resounding tone, "My lady, would you do me the immense honor of granting me this dance?" You just laughed and nodded

You both danced together, slowly swaying around the stage while holding each other close

You noticed that, as he smiled fondly at you, his smile didn’t really reach his eyes

You wanted to believe what he’d told you, you really did. But there was this gut feeling in you that told you that there was something else going on

“You sure everything’s fine? You don’t look like you’re just tired babe..”, “No no I’m fine, I swear it! I just… I need to be with only you right now.”

You spent so much time there together, that in the end it would’ve been too tiring to go back to Camp straight away, so you opted to spend the rest of the night there

Well, more than opting to it was Luke who begged you to spend the night there with him, forget the rest, you’re both old enough to not have to respond to any of your godly parents

Thinking back to that day, you wonder if you should’ve gotten worried at his bitter words against the gods, instead of simply taking it as his natural aversion to the Olympians

You fell asleep first, lying on the dusty, hard pavement, while Luke stroked your cheek lovingly, staring at your body with a look that he’d spared you the sight of

His heart was about to shatter into a million pieces, all because he knew that this might’ve been his last time spending the night with you, being this close to you

In less than a week, Percy and Annabeth were coming back to Camp, and if they’d succeeded than it wouldn’t take much for them to find out the truth about the theft of Zeus’ lighting 

And as much as he wanted to believe his own delusions that you were going to stay by his side through the whole things, he knew that would never be

And he tried, he really tried so hard to keep in his true emotions for the whole evening, but he couldn’t take him anymore when he saw the necklace he’d gifted you just hours before around your neck

And the promise ring he’d given you on your first anniversary

And the little heart he drew on your arm the day before to annoy you

All little things that brought back the memories of almost four years he’d been with you. All memories of something that will soon end

It makes him wonder if you’ll keep all his little gifts, or if you’ll burn and rip and break everything that reminded you of him

He barely registered the tears that fell from his eyes as he held on to you for dear life as if you’d disappear if he didn’t hold you firmly enough

His cries became more intense as time passed, but he remained careful not to be loud enough to wake you up from your slumber. It was a mixture of unintelligible declarations of love and apologies, that he repeated like a prayer

Because in the end, he was indeed praying

Praying for you to see the reasoning behind his actions, for you to realize that he was in the right and that you had to follow him in this revolution 

And if you wouldn’t grant him this wish, then at least he prayed you’d still harbor the same love that you felt for him for all these years, that you will someday be able to forgive him, leave a place for him into your heart

King Baldwin IV x reader - I’ll be waiting for you

A/N: Well, how could I not make another fic for King Baldwin when the other one I made is my most liked post yet, so I decided to write this little pieceee. Sooo I guess I should warn y'all that this one will be a little less historically accurate (not that the first one was that great of a historical piece but you get the idea). Oh and as usual, this fic came into my mind the moment I saw the painting just below (which is "the Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets Over the Dead Bodies of Romeo andJuliet" by sir Frederic Leighton)Now enough chatting, more King Baldwin brainrot. 

Summary: in a desperate attempt to protect his kingdom after having punished Reynald de Chatillon, the king is exhausted and the long ride has increasingly worsened his already wary condition. Once he’s escorted back to the palace, his loving wife wastes no time to reunite with her beloved husband.

Warnings: kinda angsty (no happy ending tbh), vague descriptions of Baldwin’s illness related wounds. Also, reader specifically described as female.

Word count: 3209

You sat on your throne, high and proud like the royalty you were. But under the facade of your noble confidence, you felt small. Smaller than ever, actually, as the yelling of all the men in front of you filled the air and rose up to the open sky. With a simple, reckless act, Reynald de Chatillon and Guy de Lusignan had just screwed years of efforts that King Baldwin had spent trying to maintain that delicate peace that required so many lives and time to build. All washed away from the raging river that were Reynald and Guy. 

While the two men tried to defend their senseless attack, backed by a substantial group of men, another opposing group shouted at them, berating them for the offense they had given not only to Saladin but also to Jerusalem itself.

You sigh, fighting the urge to cover your ears, and curl into your own body; you opt to just turn your head and look at your beloved husband. He looked to be in a similar state as you were: although his face was now fully covered -a means of hiding the decaying state of his leprosy-ridden body- his head was bent with weary alertness, like a hawk watching its prey from a distance. You watched his body, languidly seated on his much larger throne, the only sitting position that brought him no discomfort, though it looked almost more like he was about to lie down. 

It broke your heart to see how that disease had ravaged Baldwin's body, in recent years more and more. To see him there, on the same throne on which he once sat tall and proud, while now he barely had the strength to stay upright. And you knew he was thinking the very same thing.

You were about to open your mouth, whisper something to him, anything, in order to shake him out of his thoughts and that chaotic situation, but you were interrupted in your actions by an official, who rushed to the king's side, handing him a scroll. His bandaged hands clumsily opened the scroll, and you found salvation from the noise of the room by concentrating on watching Baldwin read carefully. You watched his eyes, blue as the sky and like the waves of the sea that brought you to the Holy Land, now covered with a pale glassy glaze. 

You frowned when you heard Baldwin freeze in place, even his sitting became more erect, as if a cube of ice had slid down his back. With his gaze still fixed on the words written in that letter, he merely raised his hand slightly, a clear sign of his will.

"SILENCE!" his guard's shout resounded through the hall, overpowering the furious shouts of the men who had been barking at each other for hours now. They all turned to look at the king; their faces, a few moments ago darkened and wrinkled with anger, were now smooth and relaxed, their eyebrows raised in astonishment at their king's order. Funny, you thought, how these men because of your husband's condition sometimes simply forget how much power he possessed over them. Before it was as if he wasn't even in the room, and they were all playing at being great leaders, now there they were, staring at him, motionless as statues, submissive as ants. You curled your nose discreetly, your face a mixture of disgust and contempt. Pathetic, you thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, Baldwin finally looked up at the crowd in front of him, finally revealing what it was that had shocked him so much. "Saladin has crossed the Jordan with 200000 men," silence fell, and you felt your body going numb. Your ears seemed muffled, you could barely perceive what was happening around you. At that moment you felt so much fear for your kingdom, and concern for Baldwin and what this impending attack would cost him.

And anger, against those two fools who out of sheer vanity had endangered the lives of all the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They had put Jerusalem itself at risk; they had put Baldwin at risk.

I was brought to attention by Baldwin, who was struggling to pull himself up from his throne, walking toward his most trusted man. "We must meet him before he reaches Kerak. I will lead the army," your husband's voice was hushed and soft, so that only the man in front of him could hear. But it did not escape your ears, the implication those words had: Baldwin wants to stop Saladin, and he wants to do it himself. But this could cost him his life. 

You couldn't stop yourself; you jumped up from your seat, eyes wide in an expression somewhere between fear and surprise. Baldwin turned to look at you, the woman who always took his breath away at the mere sight of how beautiful she was. You did not fail to have that effect on him again this time, but not because of your beauty: in your eyes he saw your terror, that this was the last time you would see him alive. They hypnotized him, and begged him in a silent prayer not to leave, to give up this plan, have an ambassador sent, anyone else. Hell, let him send Guy himself to intercept the Saracen, let him be beheaded and his murder settle the account that he himself opened. But the storm of emotion in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotion flowing from your eyes

But the storm of emotions in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotions flowing from Baldwin's eyes, barely visible because of the cover concealing his tortured face. He too, through them, was silently pleading with you: but he was asking you to trust, to let go and follow his plan, to try to forget for at least a moment all the warnings the Physicians had given him over the years.

Eventually, you relented, turning your gaze away and opting to stare at a random spot in the corner of the room. Baldwin gave a silent sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, a sign of gratitude, although you could not see it. He turned to the men of his court, and with the little strength his body afforded him, he spoke in a loud, determined voice: "Assemble the army and protect the city."

All this reminded you of the last time Baldwin fought Saladin: he had barely completed his seventeenth year, and young and still full of life, he was ready to ride against the invincible Saracen king. But on that day God had been more merciful. He had granted you, if nothing else, one last night to spend with your husband, had given you the gift of a minimum of time to ensure that you bid Baldwin a proper farewell before he met what could well have been his end. Instead this time, you barely had time to briefly remove the thick veil from his face to give him a fleeting kiss and exchange a handful of words. You fought back the tears as you looked at him, opting instead to bring your hand to his cheek, the flesh of his lip having receded and decayed to such an extent that it had receded down to his cheek, eventually turning into a long scar that protruded down to his cheekbone.

"Let me go with you, I will wait for you at the castle of Reynald de Chatillon-" "No. It is too dangerous. If things go wrong with the negotiations, I don't want you or my sisters anywhere near that man." It was not often that Baldwin interrupted you while you were speaking. He respected you too much to not allow you to finish your sentences, so the fact that he did just now spoke of how important this was to him. 

"Then promise me you’ll come back to me. Safe and sound." He snorted softly, giving a hint of smile before copping his face with his hardened hands, "You know I can’t promise it." You know that, but that blatant honesty of his, which you always loved so much, was not what you wanted at the time. No, you wanted reassurance, no matter how truthful, no matter how worthless his promises may be at the end of the day, You need that fleeting distraction that mitigates the fear that’s been eating you from the inside since Baldwin put on his armor. May you risked never seeing him again.

"Please just say it." Your voice came out much softer than you meant, almost less than a whisper, perhaps because of the knot in your throat, which threatened to break free carrying a river of tears. For a moment he remained silent, turning suddenly his face towards the voice of a nobleman who called him from the entrance of his room, but did not even dignify him with an answer. After all, his attention was completely turned to his world. To you. Before I answered you, I drew your head to his with my hands, so that I could place his forehead against yours. Finally, he spoke softly, in that loving tone that he reserved only for you: "Then I promise you that I will return to you in no more than three days, and when I return I will be victorious, and I will be riding."

After that, that moment between the two of you, which so much looked like a heartbreaking farewell, lasted just before Baldwin had to go to his horse to guide his men to the enemy.

And it wasn’t long before the harsh reality became clear to you: he had lied to you. Not maliciously, of course, you were the one who begged him to say those words after all. But the fact is that three days became four, that news of the army of Jerusalem had not come any more, that the last thing you heard of your husband was that only the ride had already tried his weakened body.

Another day passed, then another, and at the dawn of the fourth day since his absence you felt your heart sink. Had something happened to him? Had the negotiations failed? What if his illness had suddenly got the better of him? Or worse, Saladin and his men had shot him, stabbed him, or yet again captured and publicly executed,…

Your mind began to spiral into an ocean of possible reasons behind this delay, and you swore that your breathing had finally stopped once and for all when a messenger on horseback arrived at the palace, frantically dismounting from his steed to rush into the throne room and bring you the message: "The negotiations were successful, but the king is in critical condition! He is returning to Jerusalem on a canopy," you dismissed the man with a slight wave of your hand, so weak that you almost looked numbed; Baldwin's advisors began to chatter, but the background murmur of their murmurs did not seem to reach your ears. No, your attention was elsewhere; it was entirely on your husband.

You took your leave of the court, hurrying to your rooms. There, like a hawk waiting impatiently for prey to feed on, you perched on the balcony overlooking the city below you, on the walls from which not many days ago Baldwin had emerged leading the army.

It was there that you began to think again, this time with a clearer mind as you knew that at least Baldwin was alive and on his way home. On his way to you. Still, this whole situation reminded you of when you were only sixteen years old, and you stood on that balcony as you do now, waiting to see Baldwin return on his horse. And on that day, when he was visible to the naked eye, and your eyes met, you saw all the life and strength of one who had just defeated the greatest enemy of his time. At that moment, he seemed almost immortal to you: he looked like a god riding proudly, leading the thousands of men behind him towards their home.

How unfair fate is, to cut short his life so early. His physicians gave him no more than thirty years, but that time seemed to you to be shortened even more when you finally caught sight of his canopy. There he lay, sprawled and motionless like a dead body, surrounded by the soft cushions and riders on either side of his transport.

Just two years ago such a journey would not have fatigued him in the least; now he was risking his life just by riding a horse. Your eyes threatened to fill with tears thinking about how much he had loved riding a horse, and now he found himself bedridden, unable in his passions. You wasted no time running through the palace corridors, eager to reach your beloved as soon as possible.

One turn to the right, then another, then down the steps, and finally straight to the palace doors, where the finely decorated canopy led the love of your life.

You rushed to his side, gently taking his mutilated hand in yours while the other stroked his masked face. He breathed faintly, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his strength after his disease had dealt him this last bludgeon. Feeling your gentle touch, Baldwin's eyes fluttered open, his glassy eyes the color of heaven meeting yours.

"You've been reckless, my love. Putting your life at risk just to do the job of a messenger!" you scolded him, but Baldwin only smiled fondly at your words. "I promised you I would've come back. And that I did, alive too." Although his voice was so weak that it sounded more like a huff of air rather than a sentence, its tone was still laced with playfulness.

It made you unable to resist the smile that was threatening to form on your lips; you did not grace him with an answer yet, opting instead to move your hand to remove the silver mask from his face. You could see his surprised and relieved expression, as he was now finally able to breathe more freely and to look at you properly. He breathed in the sight of you, almost as if trying to take in as much of you as he could. "I can't tell if it's the travel or the sight of you that takes my breath away."

You just smiled bitterly and shook your head at his silly declarations, "It must be the ride, it has tired you so much that it's making you speak nonsense." he giggled weakly, much more tiredly this time, almost as if he was about to doze off. But he fought the tiredness nonetheless, opting to just shake his head and admire you with a lovestruck look. "Maybe I am hallucinating, I think I'm seeing heaven above me."

It was supposed to be a compliment that would've made you giggle and blush, like the ones that he showered you with daily. But instead, it made your heart clench at the bare idea of it. The idea that this would be his last moments before the energies spent for this expedition would be too much for him to handle, and God will reclaim his most virtuous man. It made your throat tighten, and your lower lip tremble.

You tried to hide your troubled state, moving your hand quickly to the curve of his neck. There, you placed a soft, butterfly-like kiss on the little places of skin that haven't been mutilated and bloodied by the leprosy. You kissed him one more time, then another, and another again..

In the end, you lost count of how many kisses you had given him, in a desperate attempt to mend your premature grief, to ground yourself in the feeling that Baldwin is there. He is alive. Yet the feeling of his skin against yours, of his chest rising up and down and his arms weakly holding your soft body, it wasn't enough to stop the tears to start flowing down your cheeks.

And that didn't go unnoticed to Baldwin, who mustered all his strength left to hold you just a little tighter. "Have my words upset you?" you sniffled, trying to recollect yourself before lifting your head to look into his eyes. "No, my dear, you could never. I just-" you stopped for a second, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat, "promise me this is the last time. Please, tell me that you will stop this nonsense. Let your trusted men handle these matters, command your man like a king not a general!" your hands had moved to his arms, a gesture to both ground yourself and to accentuate just how desperate you were in that moment, only wanting him to just listen.

"I beg of you, my love, stay here. Where you can rest. We both know that you don't have much more time left to live, so stop doing everything in your power to shorten it anymore." A sob slipped from your mouth at the last part. It truly astonished you how careless he seemed about his own condition, almost as if he forgot that any move could be the death of him.

He frowned and sighed at your words, squeezing your forearms softly before he spoke softly. This time though his tone was clearer, less weakened by the outcomes of the past days. "I already spoke to the physician about this: I have no choice, my angel. I'll be bound to my bed until a miracle will better my condition, or until death will take me."

You shut your eyes in relief, resting your forehead against his and sighing shakily, trying to recompose yourself. "I can't live in a world without you.."

"God will give us more time. I promise I won't leave you as long as I breathe on this earth. And. when my time will be over and there will be no future for us in this life, I'll be waiting for you in heaven, if I'll be granted the blessing of a place next to you there."

Not too long after, the physicians that Saladin had promised him arrived at the palace, and you were assisted as they tended to Baldwin's many wounds caused by his sickness. More than the sight of the gruesome pieces of open flesh, what appalled you was just how numb his body had become, so much so that he did not even feel their hands and tools working into his skin. It made you wonder wether or not he even felt your kisses from before.

And you make yourself that same question months later, when you place one last kiss into his forehead as he slept soundly before going to bed yourself, only to wake up to a cold body beside you. You wonder if he ever got to feel that last gesture of love before God had finally claimed him.

You only found solace in the thought that Baldwin would be resting in the realms of heaven above your head, contrary to what the Saracens believe.

A/N: Wowww this gets more fun by the day!! King Baldwin will probably always be my favorite character to write for. He’s my muse. As always ill be waiting for your feedbacks!!!

Oh and also, be prepared in the future for more fics waiting to be posted, I’ve got about ten that are just waiting for the right time to come to light, and many more will come in the future since I’m really finding it therapeutic to write.

I love how I was hesitant about writing a king Baldwin's fic because I thought it wouldn't be of interest for readers but turns out it's my most liked post yet

Omg I’m so excited you’ve decided to start requests!!!

I was wondering if you vibe with the idea of an Aang X f!reader. Where Aang kind of explores his anger? Maybe a little jealousy and rage but still a nice guy. Very much like Percy Jackson being a powerful rage guy but when relaxed he’s like a skater boy with no stress?

Aang x reader - That voice in his head

A/N: thank you so much for the support! I honestly didn't expect for one of the first requests I was gonna receive was gonna be of a fic for any character from AtLA, but I'm not surprised at all because I haven't interacted with this fandom in a long time!! I absolutely LOVE your idea and it was so fun writing it! 

Also really important, the pic I choose for this fic is from pinterest, I have no idea where it comes from, who made it, whether is a photoshop or a cosplayer,.... if you've got any information about who to crediti for the pic lemme know so that I can give credit to whoever made it!

Summary: you and Aang have been together for some time now, and all seems to be absolutely perfect. All, except for that little voice in the back of Aang’s head, one that made him think- overthink actually, and that made him act...

Warning: actions made out of jealousy, Aang acts in a way that might be considered as self destructive but it's nothing worrying don't worry. also the amount of fluff in this one might be considered to be a warning itself lmao

Word count: 2001

The day had started in the best of ways. Having all been so tired the night before, no one even noticed that you and Aang were snuggled up next to each other in front of the small bonfire, wrapped in the warmth of Appa's fur. And so the two of you were able to enjoy some well-deserved rest, in each other's arms.

Waking up had also been sweet as honey, as you had woken up first and had had all the time in the world to prepare a meagre breakfast to share with each other, before your friends and companions woke up as well. And even when they had joined you to eat a little something too, the feeling that reigned in the air was one of pure peace.

Or at least, it was until Sokka approached you, one hand on his hip and the other wielding a spear. "Hey Y/N, do you want to come with me to go fishing for something?" You smiled enthusiastically at your friend, not wasting a moment to follow him towards the body of water that lay not far from your temporary camp. You did not realise that you had left behind you a rather dumbfounded Aang, who watched you with slightly wide eyes as you walked away with your friend.

Aang… didn't understand what he was feeling. He didn't understand that strange twisting of his stomach, as if something was twisting him from the inside. He didn't understand his throat suddenly becoming dry, and his breath becoming heavy coming out of his lungs. He could not put a name to what was happening to him, yet he could put a face to it,….

Sokka.

It had all started a few weeks earlier, when after the umpteenth time he had been forced to call his friend's attention to himself, distracted by gazing into the distance, Sokka abruptly grabbed his friend Aang by the shoulder, forcing him to look him straight in the eye as he spoke to him: "If you don't take the first step with Y/N, I will." An innocent provocation, mainly aimed at spurring his friend to stop wasting time fantasising about the girl and get a move on declaring himself, although Sokka couldn't deny that if it weren't out of respect for his friend's crush, he would have already thrown his shot with you. Aang's face turned red, partly from embarrassment and partly from the growing jealousy within him. "H-hey isn't that cool, Sokka!!! I've liked her the longest, you can't just come and steal her from me like thi-" "Then you better hurry up, genius." And with that mischievous smile of his, which at such times makes you wquasi want to slap him, he turned away from Aang, heading to Katara.

It was not long after that little dialogue that Aang found the courage to declare his feelings, and he later thought he owed some of his luck to those very words Sokka said to him that day. Yet in that moment, as you saw him approach you, he brushed against your back to direct you into the right position to fish more effectively. At that moment he wondered if those words Sokka had said to him were really just a joke to tease him, if there was no ulterior motive, that of warning him that one way or another, he would try to make his move on you.

Aang's hands were clenched into such tight fists that his fingers were already leaving small cuts on his palms, but the strong emotions he was feeling at that moment prevented him from feeling anything other than the frantic throbbing of his head. With his head still clouded by this inexplicable rage, Aang turned away from the scene, marching towards a sort of circle formed by various rocks and trees.

Once he arrived in front of the first boulder, he did not even have time to take a breath to prepare himself for the earthbending, when already his right fist had moved as if by instinct, planting itself on the hard surface of the rock, leaving a groove where the impact had occurred. His fingers pulsed, his knuckles, but he felt as if he felt nothing, if anything that pulsation mixed with all the emotions he was already feeling. And in that pain, which at that moment he was not even able to metabolise, he found a further drive, which made the voice in his head even louder, more insistent. Y/N is gonna choose Sokka over me..

He threw another punch, incredibly even harder than the previous one. Small red cuts were beginning to appear on his hand, but Aang still paid no attention to them. It was as if he refused to see the reality around him, that voice in his head had taken hold of him, was isolating him in a dimension where there was nothing but him, his anger and the image of you with Sokka etched in his eyes.

Another punch followed, and another, then another. One by one, the stones arranged in that sort of circle disintegrated from the force of his blows. Aang did not really know how long it had been since he had initially gone there to vent the river that was his emotions, he only knew that the sun was about to set, and that a voice in the distance was calling his name.

It was you, worried sick about the sudden disappearance of your boyfriend.

Aang could not move a single muscle, it was as if your voice had brought him out of his trance state, and now the weight of reality was falling on him all at once. He did not have the courage to answer your call, or even to turn around to look at you properly. He looked down at his hands dripping with his own blood. With the adrenaline diminishing in his body by the second, he began to feel the searing pain of his wounds, finally realising the gravity of what he had inflicted upon himself in that state of rage.

What would you have said seeing him like that? You would certainly be disappointed seeing what he had done, and why. Who knows how worried you'd been about him, maybe you'd been looking for him for hours and he'd been selfishly on his own, voluntarily away from you, as if you were to blame for him feeling that way… even he didn't know how. Or again, you had not come there to know how he was. Maybe you had come to him to tell him that it was over between you, that you preferred Sokka after all, that while you were fishing something had clicked, that he was no longer good enough for you,….

"Good God, Aang what happened?" you run in his direction, taking his bloody hands in yours. You tried to meet his gaze, but he seemed to be working hard to avoid it. You didn't pay much attention, instead throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I was really worried about you, you know? You seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth" He didn't answer, but he felt his throat tighten and his eyes become moist. How could you miss him when you had Sokka? "Come on, let's get you fixed up, I bet your hands must hurt like crazy right now, but how did you get them like that?" You began to guide him towards your camp holding him by the arm, careful not to touch his wounds. "I… I-I was training and I think I got the hang of it a bit," he replied in a voice so light that you almost didn't recognise your Aang. There was something underneath that he didn't want to tell you, of that you were certain. But at the same time you couldn't and didn't want to force him to speak, you just wanted to be there for him.

Once you had entered one of the tents, I gestured for him to sit on the stacked blankets, while you took the necessary to take care of his cuts. Your hands worked gently on his skin, the hands you had always loved to hold in yours so much.

It took him a few minutes of tension-filled silence before Aang found the strength to open his mouth, "Sorry, Y/N, I didn't mean to worry you so much. It's just that…" he interjected, swallowing the lump in his throat, "…I don't know, I just had something on my mind" You frowned as you listened to him, intrigued and concerned by his words. You said nothing, and he took that as a signal to continue.

"See, I don't know what I was feeling before, but ever since I saw you with Sokka, in front of that lake, so close, looking like you were having so much fun,… it was like something was eating me up inside, that's it." He made to lower his gaze again, but you wasted no time in gently grabbing his chin to make him look at you. "Aang… were you jealous?" if it wasn't for his injuries and the saddened look in his eyes, you would have found it funny. I mean, how could he think you would ever choose anyone over him, the most handsome, kind, funny, strong and unexpectedly wise guy you've ever met.

He hesitated for a second, before nodding slowly and lowering his head again. His voice came out weak and shaky: "You're not angry with me?" At his words you huffed, completely incredulous at his question. "Why would I be angry about that? Aang, jealousy is something normal, you don't have to feel guilty if you feel that way."

He cocked his head before continuing to speak, "It's not just that, it's… I always take so much care to control my anger, but today… I don't know, it was like I wasn't in control of my body anymore. I was so caught up in my anger that I couldn't contain myself…" A moment of silence, he looked up again to look at you, and you noticed that his eyes were red, as if he was about to cry, "…I'm sorry, Y/N, I know I must have disappointed you-"

"Absolutely not!" you interrupted him, grabbing his forearms. Your eyes were full of concern for Aang, and your tone though stern was full of love and concern for him. "Aang, for as long as I have known you, you have never allowed yourself a moment to vent your emotions. Despite everything that has happened to you, despite the losses, the physical and emotional wounds, you have always tried to keep smiling. But that is not good for you, sweetheart, you are still just a human being and you need to let go, let out all your emotions, even the ones that scare you."

As you continued talking, Aang felt his heart tighten and his chest warm. You did not stop talking, one of your hands coming up to cup his cheek. "I understand that after everyone you have lost you are afraid of losing me too. But I can promise you, you won't get rid of me so easily, you fool." He let out a shuddering sigh and let himself slip gently into your arms. You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around him, resting your cheek against the side of his head. "Thank you baby, this- it means so much to me." After Aang's words, spoken in a soft, hushed tone, a comfortable silence fell.

You stayed like that for some time, then you spoke, chuckling softly, "Maybe next time come talk to me when you're sick before you shatter a dozen rocks and your hands" He moved his head from its place in the curve of your neck to place his lips on yours in a gentle kiss, then pulled away from you to look into your eyes, smiling apologetically, "Yeah, I think you're right."

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (Mech Pilot AU)

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!

Chapter 11

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.

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (Mech Pilot AU)

Author note: Hey everyone I’m so so sorry it’s 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. ❤️

Chapter 9

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.

“C’mon we ain’t got time for tearful hellos. The others are guarding the open spacebridge as we speak.”

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 Megatron’s helm by mere inches. The Decepticon leader taking the opportunity to drive his energy blade up just missing vital energon lines running through his opponent’s 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 opponent’s chassis. Optimus twisted, deflecting the strike with a swift, brutal swipe of his axe. Megatron’s 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 wasn’t 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 can’t 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. He’s 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.

“She’s awake. Seraphim can you hear me?” Dr. Antonov’s 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. “Dr. Antonov. It’s good to see you. Is…everything alright?”

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.

“You’ve had quite an ordeal haven’t you Sera? Honestly I was surprised we got you back in one piece! Given how Prime had described the Decepticons.” He reached out and patted the side of your helm gently. You look back at your open chassis.

“Doctor, why haven’t I been disconnected?” 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.

“Something is interfering with your ability to disconnect from the Seraphim frame. If we try to sever the connection in this state…your consciousness could be lost.”

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.

“You better let me in old timer before I let myself in.”

“She’s just waking up, we don’t want to overwhelm her with company. Besides, we don’t know if the doctor has broken the news to her—“

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.

•••

“You absolute failure! I cannot believe you allowed Optimus Prime and his lackeys to bridge directly onto the flight deck of my ship!” 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.

“Lord Megatron! Please I was interrogating the prisoner! Didn’t you want the valuable information she was carrying?” Another blow to the helm as he bowed low, trying to appease his leader’s 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.

“Starscream you imbecile. I told you to take care of it. Didn’t 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!” He reached out a clawed servo and grabbed the seeker around the throat. Lifting him off of his peds. Starscream sputtered but couldn’t 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. Starscream’s optics flickered as he was about to lose consciousness. A calm and steady voice interrupted the two.

“Lord Megatron if I may, the abomination did in fact possess coordinates for other energon mines. Isn’t that correct Soundwave?” Shockwave’s 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 wasn’t bad intel at all.

While Megatron was discussing the new intel with Shockwave, Starscream winced as he hauled himself up. This wasn’t 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.

I wanna thank you so much for coming up with the mecha au! It rocks so hard! Like I’m actually tuning in and checking whenever you update, I’m a huge mech fan and transformers fed it heavily. Again I hope you’re doing amazing and feeling well.

P.s your cool :)

I totally intended to answer this ask with the next chapter of Emptiness Machine, but I had a lot of really bad things happen recently. In a safe place rn and finally able to think clearly enough to write. Y’all are so so sweet and these asks are keeping me sane rn. Thank you so much for your support of my shenanigans ❤️

P. S. You are cooler!!! Thanks Anon

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (Mech Pilot AU)

Author note: Hey everyone just for this chapter I wanna explain that in this universe scanning a spark signature can reveal a designation. If you have any other questions send me an ask. Enjoy!

Chapter 8:

Your optics come online and you sit straight up at the sound of your designation. How did he get ahold of this information? The Autobots had been so careful not to let any information slip about the secret project Dr. Antonov had been working on. Humans weren’t even involved in the conflict until a cycle ago when they were called upon to deal with an actual Decepticon on the surface. You narrow your optics at him as he smiles at you in a sadistic way. Chuckling he turns and addresses the drones stationed outside the door.

“Restrain the prisoner I wish to speak to them unobstructed by this.”

He waves a servo at the humming energy wall that separates you. At that you sit up ready to fight, but your servo immediately goes to your forehelm as dizziness overcomes you. you had taken the Energon, so why were you still struggling? Sifting through the error messages you can’t make sense of the situation. You hadn’t been poisoned or drugged so what was the issue? One message though sends alarm jangling through you. ‘Unable to disconnect. Disconnection unavailable.’ What on earth could that mean? You hadn’t even noticed the approaching drones or heard the energy field disengage. They wrenched your servo from your helm and had you in cuffs before you could react. Something was off with your connection and you didn’t like it.

Looking back up at Starscream where he was stepping inside your cell, he looms over you. Wings flared out and bent over slightly to keep his helm from bumping against the ceiling. Clearly this cell was made for much smaller bots. You sit on the bench restrained at the wrists but nothing more. They were underestimating you again. That or they knew more about your current status than they were letting on. You vent and meet his optics. There was no choice but to talk to him. You let your helm lean back against the wall behind you but don’t break contact with his optics.

“Alright. I’ll speak with you. I cannot promise answers to everything and for that you might have to take me offline. But I will let you speak.”

He seems surprised for a moment, looking awkward in the cramped space. He shifts on his peds and produces the data pad and speaks once more.

“So it can speak in something other than obscenities. Very well. We were able to obtain very little information about you from our sweep of the digital network here.”

He pauses and his optics flick to your chassis and back up to your faceplate. So he was curious. He was speaking to you like an intelligent being and that was a start at least. Though the tone of his voice suggested he thought of himself as the higher life form here.

“Shockwave was the only mech Megatron wanted interacting with the native life. Unwise in my opinion.”

You raise an optic ridge at him. Why was he telling you all of this? Wasn’t he afraid you were going to use it against them? Of course he didn’t expect you to make it out of here still online. That was most likely the reason. You nod and respond.

“Whatever his reasoning for that is I’m sure it’s monstrous. Especially if it has to do with that mech.”

He looks at you and then back at the data pad.

“As second in command, it’s my job to be an advisor to Megatron in matters of great importance.”

He seems to preen before continuing.

“He however, believes I should have disposed of you. But how is it…that you look exactly like us. Down to our very biology. It’s…”

He doesn’t finish but instead he shakes his helm as if trying to get rid of a stray thought.

“Just what are you?”

His voice a dangerous growl that rumbles through his entire frame as he asks the question. So he thinks you are an abomination of some kind. You look him up and down.

“You are the alien here. You came to my world. So what exactly are you?”

Your tone accusing as you turn the question on him. Of course you knew Cybertronians well and why they were here. For a moment he looks affronted and his wings flick up, tapping the ceiling. You suppress a wave of amusement as he looks for a second like a bird whose feathers had fluffed out in indignation. He sputters for a before replying and regaining his composure.

“I suppose…but that’s beside the point. Here I am talking to what I thought was a very offline Cybertronian femme. Shockwave had torn out your spark. But here you are sitting in front of me as if none of that happened. And that-”

Emphasizing the word Cybertronian as he says it, he lays a digit on the seam that ran down your chest. The very same one that opened to reveal your true self.

“-that is in no way a Cybertronian spark. It’s something different altogether. An abomination.”

The scientist in him became morbidly fascinated with the new scans that had been taken of your form when Knockout and Hook had done the repairs on your frame. Where once a newspark had been detected, there was now a fully developed spark signature. It had a designation assigned to it and everything. An EM field, a scannable signature, it gave all appearance of a Cybertronian spark. But he wasn’t about to tell you that. Something had happened in the aftermath of that broken connection. Something that made his plating crawl in an unpleasant way. He continued to speak.

“Whatever those Autobots are doing is just as unethical as whatever morbid experiments Shockwave is conducting.”

He mumbled and that made you sit up straighter with a snarl as you reply to him.

“Never compare us to the likes of him! You are the bad guys here. You are the reason I was created in the first place. So that Earth had some defense against you. You are the reason Cybertron is ash and you had to come all the way here to find Energon!”

You had taken it too far. In a flash his servo was around your throat lifting you as Megatron had done. He was visibly shaking in anger. His red optics flashed and he bared his denta. Rage barely contained as his wings flicked fitfully behind him.

“You dare! You have no idea what happened on Cybertron! You insect! We tried to save Cybertron and your so called chosen leader doomed it!”

He seemed to take a moment to calm himself as he took a shaky vent and released you. Your optics were wide at his outburst. You swear you could have seen a hint of regret and pain behind his expression. It made you wonder what exactly he meant by what he said.

“What do you mean? Are you saying Optimus doomed Cybertron? That’s not right. He said you bombed it all to slag. Trying to get rid of everyone but those who aligned with your beliefs.”

Starscream looked as if he might have another outburst but instead he just spoke through gritted denta. Leaning forward so his face was barely an inch away from yours. Barely contained rage seeping out of his every word.

“Those deceivers would have you believe they were the spotless victims of this war? What if I told you there wasn’t a war before Optimus Prime became what he is?”

He didn’t get to finish before several drones rush in and the main door to the circular room slides shut. There were distant klaxon to be heard before the noise was abruptly cut off. They hurriedly took defensive positions and Starscream looked around, more annoyed than alarmed.

“What the pit is it now?”

He places a digit on the side of his helm activating his communicator.

“Report. What’s going on out there.”

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation but he ducked quickly out of the cell. Throwing a brief ‘stay put.’ over his shoulder at you. The energy field hummed back to life caging you once more in the small room. Whatever it was must be big because there were now eight drones in the room with you.

Still reeling from the conversation you just had, you try to imagine what on earth he could have meant by that. There was no way Optimus Prime started the war on Cybertron. You couldn’t think about that right now. Whatever was happening most likely had to do with the Autobots and that made you smile. It was only a matter of time before they came for you. Their fierce protectiveness of the human race was one thing the Decepticons couldn’t flip around on them.

There was a thunderous crash and rubble bounced off of the energy field as the door to the cell block was blown open. Dust and smoke filled the air and there was shouting. Familiar voices made you stand, that hope filling your lines as you try to see through the smoke. Drones opened fire and were taken down with ease. Two familiar color schemes make their way towards the field. One pair of big worried blue optics stare through the field at you, making you almost sob with relief and recognition. The field drops and a flash of yellow was all you see before you are practically taken off your peds. The yellow mech clinging to you like you might just crumble in his servos. Of course you’d recognize him anywhere.

“Bee! Oh thank goodness!”

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Mech Pilot Reader

Author note: here’s chapter 7! Sorry it took me a bit and today’s chapter is a bit longer to make up for it. Been going through some stuff. No warnings for this chapter!

Chapter 7

Coming online by degrees, you take in a shaky vent. Your optics flicker and warning messages blare, taking up all the space on your HUD. Internal damage, low energy, unable to disconnect, major mesh damage. You wince as you try to sit up and see where you are. A servo coming up reflexively to hold your chest plates together. Your digits find a fresh weld there as well as an Energon patch, someone had done minor repairs on your frame. You slowly move your optics over your plating. There were a few more fresh welds. Your optics flick over to find a faint purple glow, and sitting there against the wall you were leaned on, was a cube of Energon.

After looking around some more, you see that you had been taken to some sort of cell. An energy wall separated you from a larger circular room with more cells around the outside. In the center was a terminal and an empty, bot sized chair. Groaning, you try to get to your feet. If they thought you’d trust the Energon cube they left for you after all of what just happened, they were sorely mistaken. You pointedly ignore the persistent ping of the low fuel level warning as it invaded your vision. In your cell there was only a bench. Cybertronians didn’t need water for anything and it seems prisoners weren’t kept alive for very long here. You manage to drag yourself over to the bench and lean back. The patch on your chest still has some Energon infusion left but you need to take stock of the damage done to your actual body.

It takes you a moment to remove the patch but when you do, it’s easy to see the damage. There were long tears in the mesh beneath and the plating had been welded back in place properly. Luckily enough, they had the sense not to weld the seams of the cockpit closed. This gave you access to the gel capsule where your body rested. Engaging the springs manually since the connection was severed when Shockwave had torn into your chassis, you gingerly lift the plating away. It looks about as bad as you had expected. Your body had dried blood on its forehead, there was some bruising. But overall the damage wasn’t that severe. The scuffle with Megatron hadn’t affected the connection. You let out a relieved vent.

Just then, a door slid open with a mechanical swish and in walked the boxy blue bot who had carried you. Soundwave, Megatron had called him. When his visor dropped to your slumped form, you quickly close the plating around your body and glare defensively. He was carrying another Energon cube in one of his servos. The other servo raised in what was supposed to be a gesture of reassurance. He spoke in a quiet tonal voice.

“Little one. You must refuel.”

You glare at him. Little one? This was absolutely not the picture Optimus had painted of the Decepticons. Not getting up or making a move to retrieve the Energon cube he’s already placed inside the cell for you, your optics never leave him. He moves closer, activating a button on the panel outside that opens a small window in the energy field so he can place the second cube inside. He steps back but continues to watch you, his expression unreadable. You try to speak but your speech synthesizer crackles and glitches. The damage Megatron did wasn’t severe but it had wrecked your ability to speak clearly for now. Still you grate out the words through gritted denta.

“Gg-go fr-ag yourssss- tryiing-to poissss-on m-me“

The incomplete sentence hanging in the air a moment before the mech turns away as if to walk out. Before he reaches the door he turns and points to the cubes, speaking one last time over his shoulder.

“Fuel: acceptable. Not contaminated. Refuel.”

With that he leaves, the door sliding shut behind him. You extend your hand in a rude human gesture that would mean nothing to him, but it made you feel better anyway. You can’t help but feel the empty tank of your mech scraping the last bits of Energon from its walls. A little couldn’t hurt could it? Dr. Antonov and the Cybertronian scientists he worked with had made your mech as close to an actual Cybertronian as possible. The biology almost indistinguishable from the alien species except for the cockpit in its chest. This included the nanites that were found within the lines of a mech. The self repair system. He wasn’t sure of the effects nanites would have on the human body at first, but after he discovered the tiny organisms wanted nothing to do with organic matter, he implemented their use in all of his creations.

Taking the cube in your servo you lift it to your olfactory sensors, detecting no poison. You tentatively slide your glossa out to taste the Energon. It tasted just as staticky as it normally does. Hungrily you gulp down the first cube. Systems start to come back online and your vision clears slowly after a few hours. Forcing yourself to save the second cube until you need it again, you lie down on your side with your back to the wall. Your wing panels tuck against your frame and you wait for someone else to return. They had kept you alive for some reason. Perhaps for information or study. At least they knew to keep you out of Shockwave’s lab. Shivering when you think what he might have done with you if the other two hadn’t intervened.

You think back on the times that Optimus Prime had discussed the Decepticons with the members of Project Archangel. There were five back then. Five working mecha and five pilots. He had called a meeting to inform all of you of the danger you were getting ourselves into. He told you everything. The 11 worlds already practically glassed by the Decepticons. How earth was the second to last world and they could have plans to terraform it into a new Cybertron. It seems their homeworld was now uninhabitable due to the chemical weapons utilized by the Decepticons. Optimus blames Megatron for the destruction of their world.

“It didn’t need to be this way. But Megatron had decided the only path to peace on Cybertron was to eliminate an entire generation of our people. He wanted no one left. Only those who were down with him in the pit. Only those who knew the same hardship he did.”

He went on to describe the war on Cybertron before they left. How entire cities were bombed to ash. Burning metal and ozone all that was left of beautiful architecture and culture. All the wealthy citizens didn’t last long under his reign. He took control of most of the planet and its resources before Orion Pax decided to lead a rebellion against his tyranny. The death told had climbed to heights he couldn’t have possibly imagined. Primus himself intervened and deemed the young mech worthy, awarding him with the matrix of leadership. A powerful weapon only wielded by someone who would use it for the right reasons. From then on, Orion became known as Optimus Prime. That is the short version. He talked for hours. You remember nearly falling asleep by the time he finished.

Though the thing that stuck with you the most was the fact that he and his followers had killed indiscriminately. Their rule, though short, was tyrannical. Just the kind of thing they were fighting against. You shook your helmet at the thought. Such blind rage was something you knew well though. There were wars on earth before the Cybertronians came. One of those wars left you without most of your family. Leading you to project archangel and Dr. Antonov.

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by the metallic swoosh of the door opening up and ped steps announced the arrival of a bot. You don’t lift your helm right away. Instead you leave your optics offline and listen. The bot uses a data pad to loudly bang on the outside of your cell making you startle. Your optics find a familiar smug looking face and a crooked smile. Starscream. He speaks, his voice a deep rumble in the circular room.

“I have some questions for you. Care to share some information with me? Seraphim?”

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (mech pilot au)

Author note: little tw for choking but that’s it! Sorry it’s a short chapter but I wanted to get it out.

Chapter 6

“Lazerbeak eject.” Soundwave sent his cassette after you with subdue only orders. No lethal force was to be used on the prisoner. The agile cassette kept up with ease as you darted around the hallways of the nemesis. You were expending Energon at a high rate using your jump jets like this, but you couldn’t think of anything else to do. You passed several stunned mechs who hollered after you or dropped what they were doing in pursuit. Klaxon rang in your auditory sensors and flashing red lights threatened to short out your visual circuits. Holding the pieces of your chest plate together with one hand, you stagger down a hallway and use one last boost.

No matter what you did you couldn’t shake that damn bird who was following just a bit behind you. No doubt reporting your position to the others. You turn to look at it as you activate your jets. You hear it squawk in alarm and see it dart in the opposite direction. Looking at it was a huge mistake it seemed as you slam straight into a clawed metallic hand. It closes around the throat of your mech, squeezing until you choke. A strangled sound coming from your intake as your optics flicker and malfunction. Trying your best to see your captor around the mess of warnings and error messages on your HUD, you stare completely dumbstruck. Your free hand scrabbles at the hand around your throat. This moment would surely be your last as your blue optics meet deep crimson ones.

The pounding of peds behind the two of you announces the arrival of several other Decepticons. You can’t turn your head but you remember the voice of the boxy blue mech that you pushed past earlier. Hearing his voice translated into your language once more as the Cybertronian translation program within your mech works its magic.

“Lord Megatron. Apologies. The prisoner is under control.”

A deep voice spoke. Commanding but calm. Deadly calm. It sent ice down your spinal strut as you struggled again. His grip was so tight you were sure if you tried to speak your vocal modulator would short out.

“Soundwave, old friend, what is this injured creature doing on my ship?”

He continued to hold you by your throat. Lifted about a ped length off the ground suspended by his one hand. He was powerful and that was enough to send panic through you. This was the mech that killed hundreds of thousands, the mech who incited a millennia long war, a monster who would rather see his own world burn than leave even one of his enemies alive. That was the only word you managed to grate out of your intake as he held you there.

“M…monster…”

He growled at you but didn’t respond as he was interrupted by the sound of calm ped steps arriving on scene. You recognize the voice of Shockwave immediately, a fresh wave of panic surging through you to make your chest ache. You were barely conscious as it was, but you were starting to see white at the edge of your vision.

“Lord Megatron that would be my doing. I have reason to believe that the humans have been able to create an artificial spark. I took this ‘thing’ to study it. See if perhaps it might prove useful.”

There was murmuring from the small gathered crowd of Decepticons as you felt many optics on your damaged form. One servo holding the plates of your chest together and the other digging into Megatron’s massive digits.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t crush your little science project and be done with it. I told you the humans are of no consequence and to leave them be. We have no proof that they are even sentient creatures. The only thing we should be concerning ourselves with is mining Energon.”

He shakes your near limp form, a soft noise of pain escapes you and you feel his servo tighten. Your mech doesn’t need to breathe air, but he could easily crush your spinal strut and sever your head clean from your body. If you received a life threatening wound to your mech, your real body was adversely affected. If you didn’t die, you would be terribly close to it. Behind you, you hear Soundwave start to speak again but another familiar voice pipes up from the crowd. It was the winged mech from earlier who had spoken to you.

“My lord! Please let me take care of this horrible mess that Shockwave has created. I spoke with the creature and I believe it may have valuable information about the location of the Autobot base. Perhaps even the locations of their Energon mines. You needn’t bother yourself with such a pitiful excuse for a distraction.”

You scrunch your nose as you listen to him. Whoever this bot was, he was a suck up. Megatron visibly rolled his eyes and dropped your limp form to the floor. He growled in the direction of the mech.

“You spoke to it? Take care of it Starscream. Before I decide to let you take the blame for this inconvenience. As second in command you are responsible for the actions of those under you. Deal with it.”

With that, the crowd dispersed leaving the three of them with you. You don’t move, too exhausted and drained of Energon to muster any fight. Pain seared through every fiber of your being as you gaze blearily up at their frames. You hear Starscream mumble something about getting you to the brig before Megatron changed his mind. The boxy blue bot whom Megatron had called Soundwave, stepped forward and gently lifted you into his arms. He was warm just like the other one. Why did this surprise you? You had been held by most of the Autobots back at the base. Why would these Cybertronians be any different? Perhaps the image of the Decepticons that the autobots created? Like dark cryptids, or something altogether evil and sinister. You expected cold, calculating, monsters. But as you gaze up into the visor of the one carrying you, you swear you see pity in the optics you find there.

I work at a spa so between clients here I am writing chapter 6 of Emptiness Machine.

Alright here is readers mech as a Patlabor Ingram! Idea courtesy of my reader on AO3 DiscoInHell. Enjoy!

Progress pics because I never post those. How I see Reader’s mech from my fic Emptiness Machine after being inspired by a comment.

I can’t stop thinking about this comment I got on AO3. One of my readers told me they saw Reader’s mech, in my fanfic Emptiness Machine, as similar to an Ingram from Patlabor.

So yeah I’m drawing this now because I love Patlabor.

Emptiness Machine

Author note: Hey yall here is a link to my AO3 so you can find the work there as well! Hope the link works 😬

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61381396

Starscream X Reader (Mech Pilot AU)

Chapter 5

You squirm a bit in the too tight grip of the bot’s servos as he holds you. When the other blue bot had come in, he had switched back to speaking in Cybertronian. However, something about his expression when he looked down at you made you think he finally pieced it all together. You smile triumphantly up at him and narrow your eyes. You had successfully gotten under his plating.

The autobots had made it very clear to their human hosts that the Decepticons were nothing more than monsters. They weren’t to be trusted at all. But as you look between the two bots as they gaze down at you in horror, you can’t help but compare their reaction to the autobots. Both looked as if you might sprout another head at any moment. The one holding you looked absolutely affronted as his gaze darted from the scan displayed on the screen to you. You couldn’t read the other boxier mech, his mask and visor making it difficult to tell what he was feeling. But clearly he was one step ahead of the one who plucked you from the tube. You grimace and gasp suddenly unable to breathe.

“I’m still here. You’re starting to squish me you oaf.”

You say breathless as his servo tightens around your middle in his shock. Turning at your voice, he turns and dumps you unceremoniously back into the tube, knocking the breath out of you and making your head start to spin again. You try to pull yourself to your feet but fall against the side. Just in time to watch them both rush out muttering in their language. The door sliding shut once again.

‘What was the all about?’

You think as you try to gather yourself, glancing over at your mech and up to the top of the tube. It would be easy for you to shimmy your way up the thing if you could stop being so damn dizzy. You swallow back the wave of nausea that crashes over you. It’s not like you hadn’t been trained for things like this. You had run through scenario after scenario. But this one, this was unexpected. You had been told by the autobots that if a human were to be captured, it would end in their demise. A horrible gruesome one at that. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. The Decepticons did not care about preserving life.

Gripping the side of the glass container, you manage to lift yourself up and stand on wobbly legs. The adrenaline from the interaction was still coursing through you and making your hands shake as you stood slowly. You began an awkward climbing shimmy up the tube. Using your body and limbs to help you along. The tube wasn’t that high but it was high enough that you couldn’t just jump out. After reaching the rim, you take a moment to breathe and make sure no bots were around. Shockwave hadn’t returned. A lucky break. It was also lucky they had severely underestimated your ability to do anything. You smirk as you imagine the looks on their faces when they find you gone.

…

Starscream takes long strides towards Megatron’s throne room with Soundwave trailing after him. The communications officer had a point. That wasn’t just an organic creature. It was something straight out of a horror holo-drama. Something created in a lab that could turn the tide of the war in the Autobot’s favor. Lord Megatron needed to know about this immediately. If Shockwave hadn’t already informed his leader. The thought made him suddenly rock to a stop, Soundwave nearly crashing into his back as his wings flick. If Shockwave got ahold of this creature, if he figured out already that the humans can be infused with energon and used as weapons….

This wouldn’t do. This was something he could use. An advantage over his tyrannical leader. He had suspected for some time that Megatron was losing his grip on reality. Fueled by rage and hate for the leader of the Autobots.

Optimus prime.

His personal vendetta clouding his ability to make wise decisions as a leader. Starscream knew he couldn’t best him in battle but maybe…just maybe he could find a way to use this to his advantage. He turns to Soundwave, his voice thoughtful.

“Soundwave, we should keep this tidbit of information between us. You know how delicate Lord Megatron’s sensibilities have been lately. We wouldn’t want him putting barbaric ideas into Shockwave’s head. He’s already unstable as it is.”

Soundwave only nods. Looking back towards the lab where they left the human. Starscream huffed in exasperation. His companion still practically radiated anxiety for the little creature.

“We do need to get it out of Shockwave’s care. As SIC, I am responsible for prisoners. Not that glitched scientist. I’ll have the drones take her and that husk to the brig.”

He seemed sure of himself but the facilities on the Nemesis weren’t made to hold something so small. Something easily under ped. He thought for a moment as he stalked off on just how he was going to contain such an interesting threat. Soundwave turns. His loyalty to Megatron tempting him to go seek his counsel. But even he knew that his old friend wasn’t the same bot he used to be. He decided it’s in the human’s best interest that he keep it with him for now. Turning, he heads back towards the lab. Trusting something so fragile and small to Starscream of all mechs wasn’t sitting right with him. He pictured the small creature crushed in the seeker’s grip and shuddered.

…

You had climbed to the rim of the glass tube. Looking down at about a ten foot drop. Surely this wouldn’t be so bad? You brace yourself before jumping and landing hard. The sound echoing a lot more than you wish it would have. You freeze, waiting for someone to burst through the door. No one does and you smile. They hadn’t posted any guards outside. First mistake. They won’t make that mistake twice which means you get one shot at this. Peering over the edge of the table you look down at the almost thirty foot drop before pushing away feeling dizzy. Heights never bothered you but this, knowing you could fall to your death, was something different altogether. You take a deep breath and stepped back a few paces. It was a small jump from here to the inverted table and the arm of your mech. From there you could crawl up to her chest. Your head still pounding and chest still aching from the phantom pain, you brace yourself and run like mad for the jump.

Landing against her plating, you feel how cold she’s become. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience once you got inside. That ache in your chest reminding you of the gaping wound she possessed. You take a deep breath before climbing the rest of the way to the cockpit in her chest cavity. The damage was extensive. Torn proto-mesh and energon leaking from several damaged sections. At least Shockwave had been precise and missed all the main energon lines. This was salvageable. The pneumonic needle and gel cushion your body rested in were both still intact. You breathe a sigh of relief as you settle yourself back in. There was a small risk associated with re-establishing a severed connection but you pushed that out of your mind. You had to get out of here.

Closing your eyes and leaning back, you let your head fall into the gel. The familiar sting in the back of your neck barely noticeable as everything goes black. Blinding pain wracks your body as it comes online once more. You hold back a scream as your servos come up to clutch at your chest. Using your shaking servos, you try to close the plating as gently as you can around the tiny helpless body within. Bending the metal back in place makes you double over as the pain becomes almost unbearable. You groan and stumble off of the table. Noting the fact that your wrist restraints had been removed. They really underestimated you didn’t they. You get a small sliver of satisfaction in knowing you pulled one over on them as you stagger towards the door.

As you do, it slides open to reveal the blue mech from earlier. You hear him make a startled sound as you activate your jump jets and slam past him. Knocking him flat on his aft. He calls after you but you don’t hear it. Tearing through the hallways as fast as your jets will carry you. Wing panels flaring out to keep you stabilized as you search frantically for an exit.

Emptiness Machine

Author note: Hey all! Thanks for sticking with this story! Little TW for this one. Talk of newsparks. Other than that enjoy!

Starscream X Mech Pilot Reader AU

Chapter 4

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.

“You 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.”

•••

That deep voice rumbles through you as he speaks, finally a language you can understand. You can’t 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 can’t help but wonder why he hadn’t crushed you yet. When you speak, your voice comes out shakier than you’d hoped.

“What did you want with me.”

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 doesn’t directly answer your question.

“What were you doing with that femme? Were you like some weird pet to her?”

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.

“You think you’ve killed her but you haven’t.”

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.

“You scanned a newspark signature didn’t you?”

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.

“Did you give any thought to the fact that we might not be so different?”

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.

•••

Starscream stared down at you as you gestured to him. Not so different? You were nothing. An insect. The only reason Megatron hadn’t 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 didn’t 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.

“Starscream, query, where is the newspark?”

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.

“There is no newspark you fool. Only this organic creature. Did you know they were intelligent?”

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.

“Not just an organic.”

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.

“What the pit have those Autobot fools done?”

Fan comic for @revelboo. Her work Coin Operated Boy is one of my faves 💕 anyway here’s Steve and reader.

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (mech pilot AU)

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

Chapter 3

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 🙊

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (mech pilot AU)

Author note: sorry for not updating for awhile but here is chapter 2! Might release chapter 3 today…

Chapter 2

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.

“Are we rushing them or are we going to regroup.”

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.

“I’m taking them NOW!”

Before anyone else could react he darted from behind the iron doors and into the cavern.

“Wait Sides no!”

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 “Primus…” 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 hadn’t been turned into red goop.

Michael leapt at Shockwave, grabbing his cannon in his mech’s massive servo and crunching the barrel on the end so it couldn’t fire. He looked at Michael as if he hadn’t 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 Michael’s arm. You launch yourself at Shockwave who turns as if surprised to see you just as he had done with Michael.

‘Is he partially blind?’ 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 what’s about to happen.

“Spinister stop playing. It’s time to go. We got what we came for.”

Came the growling, deep voice from above you. Shockwave didn’t 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 Bumblebee’s 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.

“Sera! Wait shockwave! That’s not—”

The awful pulling sensation of the ground bridge nearly makes you pass out as Shockwave drags you along. You aren’t 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. It’s 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.

“Your energy signature is non existent. But you do not have an active cloaking device.”

He pauses for a moment to scan my chassis.

“What are you.”

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 doesn’t 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 it’s hard to remember that you aren’t 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.

“Stop stop stop! You can’t!”

And he’s 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 scientist’s lone optic bathes you in ruddy light. Groaning incoherently, you hear him make a deep rumbling sound. One you’ve 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 didn’t know any Cybertronian and couldn’t communicate with him without your mech.

Before you can process what’s 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 don’t feel any actual injuries. He hadn’t 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.

Anime pose or something idk. Don’t look down! Anyone else afraid of heights? 😖 idk who’s sword that is I just gave it to him

IDW Starscream X Reader

Rendezvous Part 6

Warnings: none

Slowly your brain came back to life as you rested clutched in the servos of that creature. It said it was from the government. But that didn’t make any sense either. ***you*** work for the government. Granted you work for a research branch that deals with strange anomalous geological formations, but surely you would have heard office gossip about literal sentient mechs being developed. The guys you work with couldn’t keep their mouths shut once they got a few drinks in them. Lucky for them, the government kept them far away from anything sensitive. Still, this didn’t add up in your head. There was no way you were going to argue with a giant robot though so you just smile weakly at him. Hoping he’ll put you down soon as his grip was digging uncomfortably into your ribcage. He just looked at you with that odd expression you can’t really place.

Thanking him for rescuing you? Of course you are. What else would a helpless creature like you do? He grins back at you. Baring his denta in what he hopes is a genuine looking smile. slowly lowering you back to the frozen ground where he snatched you from. He’d let you go of course. Only because he knew no one would believe you, and killing you would be more suspicious than not. “Don’t tell anyone about this or there will could be horrible repercussions.” He said, voice rumbling through you as he let you drop the last ten feet to the ground. Standing back to his full height, he lifts his wings and makes himself look bigger for emphasis.

You drop painfully to the ground. The fall knocked the wind out of you for a brief moment, making you wheeze as you try to stand. He’s standing there now. Towering over you as you slowly back up towards your car. Making a mad dash you start the engine and nearly peel out on the ice as you throw it in drive. Down the icy dirt road and onto the pavement, you take a deep breath and try to convince yourself that what you just saw was real. You shake your head. Your brain telling you that there was no way you should have gotten out of there alive. The tremors in your hands refusing to cease as you break the speed limit by at least thirty. Giant robots? Now this was something your coworkers were going to want to hear about.

He watches you go. Tracking your vehicle as it speeds away. He had found out where you lived. Just in case he had to get rid of you. No other reason. Definitely not out of concern for your safety. He vented heavily and sat down in the clearing. Finally some alone time. What he had come for in the first place. His place to think wasn’t sacred anymore but at least it was just some random organic. He couldn’t stop thinking about your little face, your curiously Cybertronian expressions and how you didn’t scream. Just sat there in his servo and stared. He scoffed. No sense of self preservation at all. Turning his attention to his most recent scheme to usurp Megatron, he puts you out of his mind for now. If all goes according to plan he won’t have to deal with you ever again.

***the next morning***

You hadn’t slept a wink. Tired eyelids sticking together as you drag yourself into work. You wave at the few people you pass, looking rough and a bit out of it. Your mind was filled with questions as you sit at your desk across from your research partner. He peers at you from his place sitting with his feet propped up on his desk. Th pile of paperwork un-filed in front of him and slightly stained by his third cup of coffee this morning resting on top of it. “Something happened. Spill.” You nearly startle at his voice. Your mind still racing as you plop down in your desk chair. “You don’t know if Weapons is developing anything….ai related do you?” He pauses and looks up, seemingly wracking his brain. “You know those guys. They don’t like to talk about anything. It’s all “classified” or something.” He rolls his eyes and scoots his chair back from his desk. Placing his face in his hands and elbows on either side of his chair, giving you his full attention. “Why? Did you hear something?”

please, please can we have some more of The Emptiness Machine 😭

✨❤️ANYTHING FOR YOU SWEET ANNON. YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND ❤️✨ part 1 is up! It’s a Starscream X human mech pilot reader fanfic so go check it out!

Chapter 1

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (mech pilot AU)

Warnings/TW: blood, weapons, mention of torture, robot gore, human experimentation (shockwave is shockwave), language, and peril. (I’ll add more as I post)

(Author note: Before I get started I wanted to get a few things out of the way. This is my own AU and doesn’t really lend itself to much existing media. Gonna mash a few continuities together. This is in no way a professional writing by any means. I am not running it past a beta or anything so it’s going to be rough. I wanted to write this for myself and share it with y’all! This is my silly nonsense. That being said if I don’t clarify something or if something doesn’t make sense please submit an ask and I will promptly explain! Now without further ado. Here is the anticipated first chapter of Emptiness machine! Thank you all for waiting.)

Read first

Data log entry #857

Date: 003029 Time: 0700

Time since first contact: 2 years, 4 months, 7 days

What began as a national defense strategy became one of the most complex military operations in the history of the world. Project Archangel, founded by Dr. Zinovy Antonov, began under the pretense of creating the world’s first mechanized army. He started his research long before we found out we weren’t alone out here among the stars. With the arrival of the Cybertronian visitors came the fear that humanity was not only vastly outgunned, but also grossly unprepared to deal with any threat from deep space. Dr. Antonov pleaded with the government to allow him near the deactivated body of one of the Cybertronians, who was discovered after a battle had broken out between factions.

He studied their biology and created what he dubbed the perfect exoskeleton. Fueled by chemical X, also known as Energon, and operated by none other than the human soul itself. There weren’t many volunteers to undergo the rigorous training and testing that these pilots had to go through. But with the help of Cybertronian Autobot scientists, Project Archangel was finally given the green light to move forward. Only three pilots made it through the initial testing.

Pilot: Seraphim, Pilot: Uriel, and Pilot: Michael.

With their functioning mecha, these pilots were meant to assist the Autobot Cybertronians in keeping earth from being terraformed by the opposing Cybertronian facton, the Decepticons.

Which brings us to the present. We have had zero contact with the other faction known as the Decepticons until two months ago. The Autobots insisted we keep our distance and only deploy Project Archangel as a last resort. Keeping the humans out of the conflict was essential if they wanted to stay neutral in the eyes of the Decepticons. As far as we know, no Decepticon has ventured down to the planet’s surface from their airship Nemesis to interact with the population. Only sending drones to wreak havoc on areas rich in Chemical X.

However, in recent months, there have been sightings of Decepticon officers and scientists (identified by Autobot command) on the planet’s surface. It was decided that we bring Project Archangel out of the shadows and deploy them on a scouting mission alongside several Autobots. We only hope that we haven’t made a grave mistake.

Chapter 1

You let yourself be pulled through the spiral of light emanating from the ground bridge. Traveling via the alien tech was a feeling that no one could describe. The closest thing to it was like having a magnet in your chest be pulled faster than your brain could register before spitting you back out on the other side. It had taken many practice runs for you to not throw off your stabilizers and stick the landing. Though it still made you dizzy and a bit sick.

After landing behind Bee in a heavily wooded area, you quickly scan the trees for energy signatures. Your scanners were only programmed to detect the Decepticon drones and of course the energy signatures of your comrades. Bumblebee signaled for you to fall in behind him and you promptly obeyed. You could feel the way your heart pounded against your ribcage where your body rested snug inside the metal chest of your mech. Your consciousness flawlessly divided between the two bodies. One living metal, and one flesh. Energon flowed steady through your lines as you tried to calm the slight tremor of your hand that came with the rush of adrenaline.

Ahead you could see the energon mine in the waning light. A clearing with a large metal structure in the center. The two huge metal doors at the entrance had been blown wide open to reveal the tunnel that went deep inside the earth to extract the precious ore. The human sentries, once posted outside, were nowhere to be found. Vehicles were overturned and some still smoldered where they had been hit with plasma bolts. You switch to internal comms so you can communicate with Bee without anyone on the outside hearing.

“Second wave in twenty. Nineteen….”

You slowly count down the seconds until the others arrive so you can rush the structure together. Adjusting your grip on your rifle you study entrance trying to imagine just what awaited you inside. Clearly a monster. Looking to your left you see Bumblebee gripping his null ray, an uncharacteristically stoic look on his face. You had some form of friendship with all the autobots, but you were closest to the little yellow scout. Perhaps it was shared interest or the fact that he seemed more your age. Whatever the case, you had shared so many things with each other over the two ish years that you had been a part of Project Archangel. Only once did you ask him about his home.

He looked saddened at the question and at first you thought he wouldn’t answer you. But he did. You spent the better part of a day listening to how he didn’t know Cybertron before it had been nearly obliterated by the war. It had been a planet filled with culture, music, and arts. No factions to speak of. A united Cybertron. But then came the slow divide of the classes. The divide grew until there were only the obscenely wealthy, and those who had nothing. That’s when, from the pits of Kaon, came the leader of the Decepticon faction.

Megatron.

Bumblebee described him as charismatic and well spoken. Someone bots wanted to rally behind. Many of the Autobots started out as Decepticons in the early days of the war. Taking down the government brick by brick until nothing remained. When it came time to build a new government, Megatron wasn’t satisfied. He wanted all the bots and their families who dared oppress him gone. Obliterated until nothing was left. He ended up doing exactly that. This cost him many followers and eventually after many thousands of years, his home. He didn’t stop. Blaming the Autobots for the lack of energon and destruction on Cybertron.

With a dead world and nowhere to go, the Autobots turned to the libraries in what was left of Iacon. There they found records of worlds seeded with energon by the 13 original Primes. A failsafe in case something were to happen to Cybertron. Optimus Prime lead the remaining Autobots off world to look for a suitable new home. Of course Megatron followed. They tore their way through 11 uninhabited worlds while trying to find one that suited them best. Stripping the worlds of their energon before moving on to the next. Earth was the first seeded world to have intelligent life. Optimus made it his sole mission to keep that intelligent life from having to endure the horrors of the war they brought with them.

It was nearly impossible due to the ever present evil that lurked in the sky. The Nemesis, like a dark cloud, hung overhead when you looked up. What kind of monsters would tear apart their home just to make a point? You were about to find out. A ground bridge portal appeared nearly blinding her as she adjusted her optics to its harsh blue light. Four bots landed and immediately began sprinting towards the entrance. Your peds began to automatically move. The yellow scout close on your heels as the two of you followed your comrades inside. Drones swarmed around you the instant you broke the entrance. Inside you could see Cliffjumper, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and one of your brothers in arms Michael. His mech was a heavy class. Not very good at maneuvering but excellent at breaking things. Throwing a drone into a wall with the butt of your rifle, you turn to Bee and chuckle over comms.

“I was expecting more of a fight. This is a fairly average number of drones.”

He didn’t reply right away as he tried to pull a drone off of one of the lambo twins. You couldn’t tell which one because of the sheer number of bodies trying to suffocate the bot. Using your jump jets you propel yourself forward and into the pile sending a good number of the drones flying. They broke easily, not filled with much energon either. It made you wonder just how the Decepticons managed to manufacture so many drones while the Autobots controlled the energon. With the last of the drones dispatched, you look around and regroup with the others. Slowly you start moving further into the mine. Eventually it would open up into a huge cavern. It would be beautiful if not for the dread that had settled over the group like a thick fog. Suddenly your comm crackled to life as Sideswipe replied to your earlier comment in Bumblebee’s stead.

“We’ll get a good fight eventually. These tin cans are just the appetizer for the main course. It’s confirmed, Shockwave is here. I’ve been itching to dig my fist into that lone optic of his.”

He emphasized his excitement by sending his fist into the shoulder of his brother. The golden bot gave him a sour look but didn’t retort like he normally would have. The energy of the Autobots had been stoic ever since it was confirmed that the first Decepticon on scene was Shockwave. You had no idea what to expect. You knew Shockwave was a scientist and known for his cruel and unusual experiments during the war on Cybertron. He created the most horrific weapons used in the Great War, so he must be someone to fear at the very least.

As you make your way down, you begin to hear a long drawn out noise. Almost like a squeaky door hinge but amplified, bouncing off the walls of the mine shaft. Then there was the screaming. You had wondered what happened to the sentries who were stationed outside. Now you knew. A deep voice rumbled from up ahead. It was cold, unfeeling, and filled you with dread.

“Test 8 unsuccessful. Most illogical. Send another.”

There was that horrible sound like metal rending and then another shriek cut short. Before a sigh of resignation came from nearby. It wasn’t Shockwave who made the noise of dissatisfaction. Another Decepticon. Your heart pounded as you look over at your fellow bots to see if they heard the same thing you did. If their wide optics were any indication, they had. Two Decepticons. Not just one. You listened closely as the other bot seemed to pace back and forth in front of the opening to the cavern. You and your companions were split on either side of the entrance, listening but not yet entering the space.

The other Decepticon doesn’t speak and suddenly he goes eerily silent. It made your hair stand on end and you almost felt like you were being watched. Could Decepticons see through reinforced steel? You shook your helm at the thought. No way. But after a heartbeat he said something that had your heart in your throat.

“Shockwave wrap it up. We aren’t alone.”

Cliffjumper growled into his comm in recognition of the voice.

“Spinster. He’s going to be trouble.”