Thank you for the ask and patience, kitty20061412 ^^ I wrote this to the best of abilities and I hope all my readers enjoy this wonderful ask 💝
Summary: The newest sensation in the Iron League world, a performer who has dominated the global charts with their solo music! Even topping human artists in every category, Idol! Reader has expanded their career into new heights including breaking new records and signing partnerships with record label companies to boost their career. Their songs inspire millions across the world, and their hardworking, kind personality makes them beloved.
However, behind that glamor nothing everything is as it meets the eye.
CW: Implied/Referenced Torture, Hurt/Comfort
The most unsettling leaguer when it comes to meeting Idol! Reader undoubtedly would be Killer Q.
What begins as mild curiosity quickly evolves when discovering your naivety, fascination and finally something dangerously close to obsession.
Similar to the public, he’s captivated by Idol! Readers flawless performance and angelic singing voice that silences entire arenas before deafening cheers erupt seconds later.
Idol! Reader stands in the spotlight shining brightly, soaking the adoration as though you were born for it. Your fans scream your name until their throats ache, waving colorful glowsticks while cameras flashed endlessly in a sea of stars.
However, unlike the public, Killer Q sees something beneath that gallant facade: The exhaustion peaking under polished armor, a faint mist escaping from overheated joints trying to cool themselves desperately, slight delay in movement, and anxious glances towards the backstage where your director was standing with a dark look on their face.
Something triggers inside his circuit, a burning sensation that deeply unsettles Killer Q when his optics lingered far too long on you… so violent and familiar yet he understood the exploitation from his own experience.
His own processor burned at the idea that an individual close to you felt the need to think that they owned you, a shining star.
At first it’s subtle when Killer Q began to secretly monitor you in a not so wholesome way, you start to notice a mech who shows up whenever you’re overwhelmed. (Backstage, venues & catching slight movement behind your door at the studio)
You slowly see a pattern when your body screams for you to stop whenever the exhaustion becomes unbearable. The unknown mech always propped himself nearby. Q’s visor was always lowered, optics fixed entirely on you noticing every little detail. He seemed to enjoy intimidating your staff from time to time. Even towards your director.
Killer Q never intended to become emotionally invested in you, in fact he only started to come around at the idea of seeing (maybe being with you) because Ruri and the Silver Castle team had somehow obtained premium tickets, and there happened to be one extra. The younger twin snagged that chance real quick.
Silver Castle was a little taken back but they let him, he’s a changed mech now and what's the harm of entertainment going to do? Bore him to death- at best it's better than drifting through space helping iron soldiers. It was getting quite dull and repetitive for him anyway.
You could still hear the roar of the crowd faintly echoing the backstage corridor, walls reverberating with heat long after the concert had ended. It was no longer the stage's lively warmth and cheering fans. It felt harsher- suffocating more like it. The kind of heat that builds up inside strained processors until warning signals flashed your vision through your internal systems. Strained servos and overworked motor pistons screamed for rest while everything else groaned underneath the heavily accessorized armor plating.
You couldn’t stop, digits clenching and unclenching while trying to make them stop shaking from stress. The concert had ended roughly 35 minutes ago. You sat alone outside of your dressing room on a crate with shoulders hunched, and head bowed. There was a data pad clutched in your trembling digits trying to memorize a choreography for tomorrow’s concert on Java Island. Instead you let it slip from your servos, clattering loudly in the silence.
Your optics dance across the floor, uncertain, with a heavy look of tiredness washing your body. Technically, you should be in maintenance by now but the thought of being late for your next interview stream had left you avoidant of doing what was best for you physical body.
You loved your fans and their passion, but to be honest it felt like another chore for you.
Lately for some reason, you thought you could feel phantom flickers from inside your A.I. brain module. With trembling servos, you tried to rub the ache in your helm unknowingly causing the residual glitter to sprinkle on your lap. Your optics unfocused momentarily from the fatigue because even when you wanted to take a nice long break contracts don’t care about exhaustion.
While tending to yourself, in the shadows at the far end of the corridor, you did not notice the pair of optics on you. You were too tired to even pay attention to the surrounding area.
Killer Q stared while tracking your motion. Silent… unmoving, intense green optics that deepened into cool teal at the outer rim beneath his visor narrowed faintly when you nearly toppled backwards.
You regained your balance in a short matter of minutes before resuming reading the instructions.
There was just something about you that kept pulling him to you.
Surprising himself, with mild irritation, when he felt his own lips quirk up after you had flashed a radiant expression of genuine joy. Perhaps it wasn’t really for him but he didn't care, Killer Q was standing front row with Silver Castle at the time.
A dazzling star adored by millions from across the globe who’d come see you in person.
Everywhere you went cameras followed, their flashes blinding your optical sensors. Even the merchandise that had been put out on shelves in stores vanished within hours. He was barely lucky the one time, snagging an opalescent keychain that had a 3D animation of your smiling face.
A beautiful doll you were.
His optics shifted after seeing you twitch, your left arm shooting outwards, grabbing the wrist of the arm if trying to steady the malfunctioning servo.
He scoffed at that, noting how your shoulders were shaking almost imperceptibly, your face hidden from his view hard to see if you were in pain.
Killer Q visor zoomed his visor on your exhausted form, catching the analysis telling him that overheated vents beneath your armor were working overtime to cool the internal system down. A hiss of pain escaped from your mouth, Killer Q felt an ugly twisted feeling in his chest when hearing your pained exhale.
You turned again, your back now facing the hidden leaguer and just as you bent over to grab an oil that had been left by one of your staff. You perked at the rushing sound of clicking heels alerting the director's incoming presence.
You shut your optics for a moment to brace yourself before the last taste of ‘freedom’ was about to be taken.
Killer Q lowered his head, eerie green optics taking notice of the way your entire posture changed before the director had even appeared. A fear response- interesting, or infuriating would be more like it. Technically, it should be him doing all the torment not the director so he clicked his glossa. Paying attention to the scene that's about to unfold.
The director soon emerged under the bright lighting who happened to be carrying a box with ornate accessories in one arm and several datapads in the other. Sweat clung to her messy brunette hair that was strung all over her face although indignation overshadowed the physical strain entirely.
“Reader! You’re late for the next interview stream!” she chided in an admonishing tone, you flinched a little under her scrutinizing gaze.
You were used to it at this point. Gazing into her cold brown eyes you knew what was underneath that expression. Frankly, you'd rather run away instead of being near the woman. At one point in time you thought she was the sweetest person to ever grace your life, now you don't even know how to describe the complexity of what went wrong.
”I- I’m sorry director… I was waiting for my friend!" You stumbled on your words, a tentative smile sliding off your face as you peered down at her.
The director frowned impatiently instead of concerning herself with whatever excuse you had come up with even if it wasn’t a lie.
You rushed up from your makeshift seat, nearly kicking over the can of oil with your pedes. That action alone garnered a dangerous mechanical whine inside the knee joints nearly plunging you downwards onto the cold floor.
“Ah- Eeech-” you sputtered in pain and surprise.
The director rolled her eyes while tapping a manicured nail against the date pads she was still holding. You avoided eye contact, regaining your footing but somewhat limping when you tried to move forward but couldn’t bring the strength too.
“I don’t want to hear anything else from that mouth of yours unless you're singing.” You flinched, receding into your mind, dissociating.
“It's bad product when you mess up and it costs me all the work that I put in. Are you trying to f$#k up or am I imagining how stupid you can be?” she snapped, moving all her stuff on one side before jabbing a nail on your chest compartment.
Killer Q was furious when he heard those words, you were clearly in pain but she made it her focus to reprimand you instead of acting concerned for your well-being. Rarely has he felt such exaggerated emotion until meeting you. He decided enough was enough and he moved his body without a thought in his processor.
One second he's in the dark watching you.
Next his fist was rocketing in a blink, barely hitting the human in front of you, slamming behind the director's head. It hit hard enough that the concrete wall spidered like a web a few meters behind the woman.
You froze, a scream from the director shocking you both out of your own stupor, and the director’s contemptuous attitude.
A loud snap echoed the semi-empty corridor as Killer Q finally stepped into the light, lightly flexing the joints in his arm.
The bold deep-pink and black mech straightened his posture lazily, pretending that he hadn’t moments ago terrified someone half to death.
“Who’re-” Killer Q shushed your director while you remained flustered and somewhat relieved at his interruption.
“Ah, ah, ahh~” he purred smoothly, provoking the human even more with his nonchalant demeanor.
Now that he was closer Killer Q could see the faint instability flickering behind your knackered optics. Your sagging shoulders, hunched even as you tried to straighten yourself but couldn’t. All of which are characteristics to a dead tired leaguer who had been worked down to every essence.
Neglected just for profit.
His amusement vanished, prompting him to glide towards you and grab ahold of the arm that twitching uncontrollably minutes prior.
Your director did not like that one bit. “Excuse me but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t touch my singer.” She frowned, annoyed at both by his lack of response and the fact that you seemed to know who this mech was. You should be focused on the job at hand, not meddle with people, and leaguers for the matter.
Killer Q deadpanned, letting your arm slide from his grip. He was a lot more annoyed that your director was still here and decided to get rid of her so he could have you for himself.
In sudden motion, his gray and black servo seized your director's left shoulder, yanking her upwards until the two were now eye level. A bolt of electric, white-hot agonizing pain ripped through her entire upper body of muscle and bone making her yelp.
You lurched and laid your servo down on Killer Q’s bold, deep reddish-pink pauldron with a gold appendage sticking up. He tilted his head back with a cheeky lilt, a smile that was all sharp edges and ignored you when begged to leave your director alone despite all the wrongdoings she had done to you.
She squirmed and struggled hard enough that he had to grab her body with his other servo. Eventually he brought the woman closer to him.
“You know your idol can barely remain upright and you’re worried about whether or not they're a good enough product? Really.” He croons sickeningly, almost patronisisingly. He digs his thumb even more causing the director to cry out again, he was drawing it out long as he could.
“If you even think to mistake (Reader)’s compliance as obedience, a point to showcase that they are nothing and speak like you own them.” Killer Q whispered darkly. The woman's breath uneven with terror blooming inside. Killer Q leaned in slightly, his lips still in that unnerving crescent.
“You don’t.” A long stretch of silence followed then slowly, very slowly Killer Q smirked, eyes sharpening into embers with a saccharine chortle echoing the corridor.
The director froze when he finished with, “And if I ever see my sweet little bird collapse or act even the slightest bit upset…” his voice dropped into something almost gentle, “… nobody will ever find whats left to identify.”
His grin was a cheshire one, pushing the woman away from the two of you. The director hit the floor hard; everything that she had held went scattering across the floor in a noisy clatter. Killer Q stepped aside casually with you in tow, you could only look down in shame with the silence afterward felt poisonous.
Not waiting around for Killer Q to return his attention the director scrambled back up onto her feet and fled. For a brief moment, the deep pink mech considered killing the brunette woman on the spot but he didn’t want his pretty little star seeing such horror.
Breaking the woman responsible for that mistreatment against you would be far more satisfying, speaking of which…
”How long has it been since your last maintenance?” He asked abruptly, pivoting sharply down a hall that was much brighter than the one previous.
You froze, searching your data banks for the answer but coming up empty; how long has it been? It must've been so long ago due to the intense scheduling and choreography while balancing the fan meetings, interviews and T.V. Personal shows. Your silence told Killer Q everything he had to know, a cold twisted feeling stabbed him in the chest.
You’ve been so focused that you hadn’t realized that you two have been stopped for quite some time in front of two sliding panels that had an emblem on it. You also realized that he still had your glittering servo in his own.
You peered up at the mech, his features strikingly handsome and sculpted with a sharp yet more rounded subtlety around his cheek plating and jawline.
“You’re pathetic.” He clicked his glossa in faux annoyance, not really meaning anything by it.
You flinched, averting your optics downward with a flushed face. With Killer Q you really didn’t mind how blunt he was with his words. In fact you quite enjoyed how refreshing he made the way he emphasized his words towards any other person or leaguer, not caring about what anyone said afterwards.
The silence was beginning to feel awkward until you laughed mildly with no intention. Killer Q blinked at you for the longest time wondering if you’d finally blew a circuit in that A.I. of yours but it delved into short bursts of giggling causing his expression to shift into something more relaxed.
He won’t say it outright, but he hates it when seeing you in such a sorry state of fatigue. Even with his past, he’d always been pushed to be the best and that’s what he became but a lot of the feelings he had bottled then taking it out on leaguers for his own fulfillment felt empty at best. He examined your damped smile, tilting his head while folding his arms across his chest. He’d been thinking about you loving him, aware that there is someone in this lonely universe (his twin, Killer B *cough*) cares. Some bot waiting for him, embracing all that is him with a tender touch and gentle eye while cooing loving phrases of affirmation.
He wondered if it was karma making him feel all these emotions; to taste something akin to the sweet ichor of what he felt like he was missing in his life performing as a ruthless, highly aggressive Iron Soldier serving UN’s dark sport faction for their money, scheming ambitions on planets in deep space.
Killer Q wanted to feel your tenderness after all those dark years, from a rising star no less. And he could care less of what others thought of it, you’re his and he can’t let you go.
Killer Q’s bark is just as dangerous as his bit, if not fatal because he has no issue crossing moral boundaries. He’s a soldier and violence is a familiar territory for him.
Using the connections he has with UN along with the help of his other associates, Killer Q begins to carefully construct an elaborate plan to get rid of your director while tip-toeing around so you won’t catch on.
Gathering the necessary evidence along with video proof of what has been going behind the glitz and glamor of your ‘perfect idealist’ world was easy for the cunning mech. Destroying the one person that had caused all your pain suffering was even easier than imagined.
Killer Q takes personal pleasure in dismantling your now former director, tearing her limb from limb, tendon from flesh; he savors every excruciating scream, desperate pleas in sadistic delight, giggling when deep crimson splashes his armor plating in rivulets.
This isn’t even his first kill but for him it was uniquely satisfying because this time, it was personal.
After finally getting rid of the director, Killer B assists in disposing the remains, chemicals from an abandoned industrial cleaning facility none the less: reducing the mutilated body to a sludge and brittle bones while Killer Q manipulates reports of the aftermath. Official reports on live news stating that the director was removed following serious allegations and internal investigations.
You believe the reports, that justice was finally served but you never learn the truth.
And Killer Q intends to keep it that way until the day you both cease to function.
