i feel like these poses each give a slightly different character to eachother. even when the only real change is the way the hands are posed to sit on the hips.. has anyone noticed this
I need to do awful debauched things inside of Starscream’s cockpit tbh. I need to see which controls make him tick and get him going while the thrill of having this organic thing inside him turns him on and it lowkey pisses him off. Every time he gets smarmy I’m just twisting knobs. I’m not even going to take that front stick, IMm not giving him that satisfaction.
My first request and it's Starscream, go figure! Continuity was not specified in this request so I chose it, I'm going with Transformers Prime.
Have a request? Read my pinned!
STARSCREAM (Alt Mode) x Dom!READER
PRE-READING NOTES: Starscream’s alt mode is an F16 Fighting Falcon aircraft. Reader is completely gender neutral.
The first thing I notice is how still he is.
Not the natural stillness of a machine powered down, no, this is forced. Trapped in a shape that was never meant to hold him this long. The metal beneath my hand hums faintly, a restless, irritated vibration that never quite settles.
“You’re enjoying this far too much, aren't you, pathetic insect?” Starscream snaps, his voice crackling through the cockpit the moment I haul myself up and slide inside. Both my legs slip in so easily, although a bit loose, it's comfortable, and I settle into the seat like I belong there.
“Am I?” I say, glancing around, deliberately slow. “You’re the one who let me in.”
“I did no such thing!” His engines give a sharp involuntary whine, like a hiss forced through clenched teeth. “If I were not indisposed—”
“Stasis lock,” I remind him, tapping one of the panels idly. “Tragic.”
“And temporary,” he snarls.
“Mm.” I reach forward and flick a switch. The response from him is immediate.
His entire frame shudders, a sharp intake of mechanical breath echoing through the tight space. The console lights flicker, and somewhere deeper in the jet, something revs before abruptly cutting out.
There’s a pause.
“Don’t touch that.”
I look at the switch. Then, very deliberately, I flip it back.
Starscream hisses, the sound distorting through the speakers. “I will end you.”
“Sure you will,” I taunt him. “You still hate this 'primitive earth form'?.”
“I do,” he snaps. “It is restrictive, humiliating, and currently—” his voice drops into something more strained, “—far too sensitive.”
“Sensitive,” I echo, like I’m testing the word.
Then, sharper, “Do not—repeat me.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I reach for a lever near my knee and give it a slow turn.
The reaction is worse this time. A full-body tremor runs through him and, by proxy it runs through me. His metal paneling creaking faintly around the cockpit as his systems try and fail to compensate. His engine gives a low uneven rumble, like something caught between a growl and a stutter. I wonder what his face must look like right now if I could see it.
Starscream lets out a fractured exhale. “You—insufferable—organic—”
“You keep saying that,” I cut in, twisting the dial a little further.
His voice glitches. “primitive—ah—stop that—”
I pause, just to hear the way his systems struggle to settle. Then I let go entirely, leaning back like I’ve lost interest. The quiet that follows is almost louder than his reactions.
“..Well?” he demands after a second, brittle and impatient. “Have you grown bored already? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Your kind lacks refinement.”
I glance at the controls again. Then at the central stick, which starscream shifts towards me as if begging me to grab it without using his words. It looks tempting. Very tempting, but.. I ignore it completely. Instead, I reach for a different set of switches that are smaller and less obvious, and tap one twice in quick succession.
Starscream chokes on the sound that tears out of him. “—what was that? What did you just—”
“I don’t know,” I say, entirely unbothered. “I'm just having fun.”
“That is not an acceptable—”
I press it again. The jet jerks under me, a sharp, involuntary motion, and the noise from the engine spikes before dropping into a strained, uneven hum.
Starscream’s voice drops to something lower, tighter, threaded with something he clearly does not want there. “You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Maybe,” I say.
“Stop it.”
I don’t.
Instead, I start experimenting once again. Flipping one switch, then another, turning a knob halfway before snapping it back. Each input pulls a different reaction from him, be it a stutter in his systems or a hitch in his voice, a full-frame tremor that rattles the cockpit around me.
“You—you have no idea what those controls do—!”
“Getting a pretty good idea,” I reply.
“You insolent—if I could transform right now I would—”
“But you can’t,” I remind him, lightly.
That shuts him up for half a second.
He speaks again quieter, trying to be dangerous, “When I can—”
I reach over and adjust another dial. His threat collapses into his own static.
“—you are—unbearable—”
“And you hate this,” I say, not even looking at him now, just watching the console in front of me flush with data as I idly toggle another switch.
“Nn—AH!!” he snaps immediately.
I tilt my head. “You don’t sound like you hate it.”
The silence that follows is sharp enough to cut.
Then, slowly, “You are interfering with my systems. Taking liberties you have not earned.”
“And you’re letting me,” I say.
“I am not—”
“You could power yourself down completely,” I point out. “You wouldn't feel anything that way.”
“..My systems are.. compromised.”
"Convenient."
“Unfortunate,” he corrects.
I hum to myself unconvinced, and reach for yet another control. This one was a small, almost hidden switch near the side panel. I've no idea what it is. But I flick it and Starscream breaks. Not loudly or dramatically. But a sharp, strangled sound that cuts off as fast as it starts, followed by a long, uneven silence where even his engine seems to hesitate.
When he finally speaks again, his voice is much tougher.
“You are going to regret this, puny human.”
I smile faintly, running my fingers idly over the flashy array of controls.
“Maybe,” I say.
And then I press it again, just to see what happens.
theartofmadeline
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
snowghoul
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
dailybridgerton
gracieabrams
