#prowl/all of high command

[transformersmadnessandmore]

Anyone with Prowl honestly

I love the phrase "they get along like a house on fire". It's perfect. You and me have perfect chemistry and it's setting off the carbon monoxide detectors. People are calling emergency services to get us to stop being so chummy. Someone died

[wurrrmlyy]

Solitary Bee!Autobot High Command

vague as hell descriptions for these guys. Sorry! The specifics are subject to change but it's okay. Earthspark is the background of this AU but I make up my own designs... I'm so cool like that. Also deepest apologies to any screen readers I'm not sure how legible the alt description is!!!

i am essentially playing toys here. i have taken earthspark apart at the seams and then remade it. S1 is mostly canon compliant though. probably

Information dump under the cut ↓

Pre VS Post-Earth AB High Command

The Autobot High Command was once much, much larger. At its peak, it consisted of:

Optimus Prime

Elita One

Ironhide

Prowl

Jazz

Ratchet

Red Alert

and more!! I havent figured everyone out yet

Currently, it's just Prowl, Elita, Megatron and Optimus. The Earth mecha previously hypothesized that Cybertron is dead and any mecha inhabiting it is also dead, but then Prowl showed up!

ELITA ONE

Elita is a very capable SIC, but has a sharp attitude and while alluring in general, is not exactly charismatic. She has fantastic war stories and took part in the original rebellion against the senate before the factional split.

She is a highly decorated general with several monstrosities under her belt.

With the limbo that came from Megatron joining and then immediately getting unofficially integrated into the HC, Elita has become a little bit pissed off. Optimus, you can't just do that! That's stupid!

General snippets:

Elita was handmade by a blacksmith during an economic lapse. She originally was a dual-wheel model with heavy armor and strength. In Functionist Cybertron she tested, ran and operated heavy equipment. In wartime models like hers would probably be enlisted as multi-use canon fodder because theyre just so durable

She has a vague moral backbone... her strongsuit was doing all the things that made Optimus queasy. This was a lot of things in the early days of the war.

Elita was the one that found Bumblebee when she popped out of the hotspot

Very angry. Elita crashed out several times during the war. Jazz so eloquently put it; "when she was mad, the world around shrunk away in fear!"

Earth needs has led her to adopting a somewhat sillier behavior. Frankly, it has not mellowed her intense personality out in the slightest. Bumblebee remains terrified of her to this day, but that might be a Bumblebee thing. It does make children more receptive of her, though.

Jawbreaker thinks Elita is SOOO cool. Elita has tried her hand at being some kind of mentor to him. Unfortunately, Elita is no exception to the 'terrible with children' rule of HC. As evident by Bumblebee.

She is a TANK. She is the heavy hitter and the hit taker!! She has a big heart but its also full of nails and ash

OP has probably destroyed his friendship with Elita. Communication faltered on Earth. Is Megatron in the HC? Is he a co-leader? Is he the new SIC? Elita doesn't think he should have the power he has at all!! Not this early, at least.

Probably the most 'on task' out of the Big 3 (OP, Megs & Elita). She doesn't think Optimus is taking this seriously, and is also convinced that Megatron is still malicious even if she respects his attempts at 'doing better'

elita should also probably be trying to 'do better' though... looking at that war criminal resume

PROWL

Prowl is the Autobot paperwork guy. He makes everyone's life easier, and is also the Chief Tactical Officer. He's polite to a fault, and somehow comes off as a prick all the same, which probably has to do with his unnerving gaze. Those eyes pin you to an operating table, it's extremely unpleasant. Nobody has ever told him this.

He's level-headed and neutral toned, and most of his emotions have to be picked apart through knowing him for a long time and being receptive to micro-movements.

When he showed up to Earth, he immediately crashed upon seeing Optimus and Megatron in tandem with each other. He does not trust Megs at all.

General snippets:

The reason nobody has told Prowl he has a clinical stare is probably Jazz's fault. Jazz wholeheartedly believed that Prowl would tear his own face off if it came to it.

i drew his lineart with the wrong brush

Has an unspecified history with Tarantulas as a reference to IDW. Uhhh he hates the guy and does not trust him anywhere near the Terrans. He's definitely scared of him but the whole thing is in the background

Prowl's extreme caution was given to Bumblebee. There is a running gag in my head about Bumblebee's hab on the Ark being in multiple places at once. Prowl approved of this. HC rule of 'being atrocious with kids'

Prowl is disabled. He has 'crashes' pretty infrequently, but they build up and can be perpetuated by stress. Lengthy crashes can cause processor damage through heat so he has several cooling mods. Crashes make him extremely disoriented.

His existence as a tactical officer was top secret for a very long portion of the war. this made him very isolated

i have genuinely no idea where i got the 'polite, terrifying, comes off as a prick' interpretation of prowl but its there and its not leaving

okay thats it i dont have anymore energy left to pump into this thing

[glitchgh0sty]

🎵 if you’re ready for some lore and ya know it, clap your hands 🎶👏👏

Essentially, Decepticon!Prowlers got some, *cough* upgrades that I should probably mention,,

[Lots of exposition beneath cut 🫶TuŤ]

During Prowls earlier days as tactician for the Decepticons,, his superiors found that his tactical strategies tended to increase in accuracy when surveying the ongoing battles from a 1st person perspective,,

Close field monitoring made it easier for him to guesstimate percentages [and become desensitized to immediate battle brutality], The troops he was in charge of began to survive more and more frequently due to his input,, and because of this he was put in charge of more and more squadrons.

However, this comes as no surprise to us, Prowl is a powerful tactician after all. ✨

But Shockwaves understanding of his talent might be a little more, how to put it,, twisty?? Essentially, Shockwave noticed that Prowl’s accuracy increased the more integrated he was into the physical senses of the soldiers in the squandrant he was surveying. Up until that point Prowl had been receiving his data through the lens of a faulty camera located somewhere on a select infantry soldiers frame, and had become too valuable to send to the frontlines where all the most important data was being received,,

So?

Shockwave had a little idea ✨

Dedicate that infantry soldier to be Prowls eyes, modify that soldier so Prowl may see what they see, hear what they hear, feel what they feel. One frame practically living in another,, integrate it so that both Prowl and the soldier take on modifications, such as,,

Prowl: Split doorwings for more data collection / sensitivity, hooks pried between wrist plates for more immediate machine response, and plz just take your worst nightmare and put it right where the processor goes

Infantry / Soldier: Forced installation of heavy weaponry, optic replacement, and a series of wires installed throughout the frame to connect to every sensitivity nerve imaginable, like someone’s put a second layer over all of your 5 senses, but like, inside your body

Prowl would be able to access everything the soldier senses without the ability to physically interfere with whatever the soldier is doing.

Think of it this way. He is able to fully experience whatever that soldier is going through,, [though he often disables the inconvenience of pain], but he isn’t able to move the soldiers blaster or make that soldier walk. He is simply a spectator who analyzes the given data to be sent to the leaders of the troops as tactical command

Prowl is also highly adverse to the idea of being in direct contact with the foot soldiers over the course of the battle as it seems to negatively effect group cooperation when one dude is acting like their lowkey - high key possessed [because having Prowl communicate with them is less like a signal interception and more like someone is moving your mouth to make you hear things you don’t know yet]. Because of this Prowl is only able to [and only has the desire to] contact the Generals directly.

Even if that soldier is in danger, ESPECIALLY if that soldier is in danger,, Prowl would not interfere audibly with them due to the fact that the Autobots have been redoubling their efforts in discovering the significance of these [Ghost] soldiers as every time they get rid of one, another simply comes to take their place with eerily similar tactical style

If you’ve made it this far?? Please take this spoof as compensation cause ohmigosh that was a lot of words 🫶TuŤ:

[tinydefector]

Ooooh my good TINY

I THINK I HAVE A GOOD IDEA

For human effect

When the human will arrive on Cybertron, they have to wear uniforms. MILITARY UNIFORMS OR ANY STUFF, AT THE MOMENT THEY ARE UNIFORMS AND THEY ARE ALL PRETTY. Hair done, some makeup on, the humans are all shiny and beautiful. And interacting with AUTOBOT HIGH COMMAND make them super hot bc for once the humans are serious, very diplomatic, very formal,...

Idk why i though about it but it's crazayyy

It will start a uniform kink oh my gooood yessss ....

I can see Rodimus or Skids or Swerve leaning on a wall and struggle bc "primuuuus they're hot... i can't..."

jeez i had too much math for today i gotta cope im sorry

Omg I love this idea. Watch out Bee I'm probably gonna add this in.

Watch the Ambassador's uniform be how Prowl and Ultra Magnus becomes Simps badly.

Ultra Magnus: looking over their uniform to make sure everything is in position and they look respectable. Him rearranging something. 'Oh primus they are so small in my servos, but they look so good, I can't ruin their uniform this goes against every code from 34 to 47.

Prowl: is so pissed off he can't go off at them for anything being wrong either their uniform to the point he wants to ruin it in the best way so he can tell them off.

[startheskelaton]

Do you have a timelime for your sparkplug au?

Yes and It's LONG. This isn't even all of it but it's what I have written out at least

Timeline: important plot points 

Pre war

Orion pax and D-16 are born 

Both experience the loss of parental guardian 

D-16 is taken to the pit 

Orion pax breaks into the pit, he and Dee start the foundations of the Decepticon cause 

Revolution starts to take shape on Cybertron 

Orion is killed in an attempt to stop D from falling down the slippery slope of a rage filled warmonger 

Orion is brought back as Optimus prime 

OG Ultra Magnus makes him a general in the Autobot ranks 

During war 

War goes on for like…. Long ass time

Autobots land on earth 

Main decepticons fallow suit and step up shop due to amount of resources

Governments make deals with different factions in place of protection and access to weapon technology

Eventually Megatron has a “oh fuck” moment when he invades an illegal mining operation in central Africa. It puts into perspective how far he has fallen, seeing his commanders make deals with those who profited off the mines, just like those in power back on cybertron. 

Midlife crisis, Megatron leaves the Decepticon cause, he takes Soundwave with him. Declares he will do whatever he needs in order to free those enslaved on this planet

Megatron joins the Autobots, this cases Prowl to leave and switch sides 

Battles pick up heat as both sides are desperate 

Millionaires and those in places of high power use Cybertronian technology to flee earth and live in space as earth is being destroyed

Starscream kills Optimus Prime in an attempt to kill Megatron. Both sides retreat as a result 

Optimus splits the matrix and gives it to Hotrod and bumblebee, 

Rodimus prime and Vespa Prime are born 

Optimus Prime’s spark is put in a reformation chamber with parts of Megatron in an attempt to bring him back 

Treaties are made and the decepticons take Cybertron as the Autobots stay on earth 

Post war 

Decepticons start rebuilding Cybertroinian society 

Shockwave finishes creating a replacement for Soundwave

Soundblaster is born 

The first sparkling born on Cybertron in millenia emerges

Nightflyer is born 

Due to the splitting of the matrix of leadership, dormant energon on earth awakens and allows for new sparklings to emerge 

The attempt the revive Optimus prime’s spark fails 

Sparkplug is born 

A new era 

Earth 

The Autobots have made it their mission to help reform the planet and help the humans rebuild 

Rodimus prime leaves earth in a hope to find some kind of explanation for why he feels like everything is in the shitter 

Subsections of colonies start to pop up, some keep to themselves, others work directly with the autobots, some hate transformers entirely 

Railroads are made more efficient in order to transport supplies across countries 

Earth starts to heal with the help of the matrix, forests grow and temperatures fall to a normal level 

Major cities act as sanctuaries for the human population, help from other alien races arrives as well, helping earth to become a space traveling hub 

Cybertron 

The Decepticons no longer go by that name, no longer wanting to be associated with the past. They go by Workers of Prime 

Shockwave has put together a complicated and purposeful chain of command and leadership that he sits at the top of. However Starscream is the “king” of Cybertron, while being a puppet 

Prowl takes care of enforcing laws and regulations to the planet. Along with trying to unite the cities with one another 

Cybertron now has a entertainment industry, focused on promoting good morals to the population along with keeping bots distracted 

Cybertron only communicate with it’s colony planets, trying to form a stronger relationship between all transformers 

“Peace times” (start of the story) 

Sparkplug is currently working as the assistant of Ratchet under the blessing of Megatron and Elita one 

Sparkplug trains in her free time to be a scout and will sneak off every once and a while to play basement concerts 

On Cybertron, Nightflyer is top of his class while training to be a high guard soldier. He is chosen by Shockwave to go on a mission to earth and infiltrate the Autobots

Cybertron is in desperate need of resources 

Nightflyer lands on earth and pretends to be a Decepticon defector, Sparkplug is wary of him 

Nightflyer manages to become an Autobot and meets Sparkplug during the scout tryouts 

Reluctantly Sparkplug is passed but gets put on the Energon transportation and quality control team, she’s fine with this as she just wanted to see the world 

Nightflyer gets put on a mission team, meeting Landlot, Defender and other bots his age. 

During this time we get our first mentions of a cult ran by a former Decepticon that’s turning humans into purple energon

Both Spark and Night explore earth and meet new and old bots.

Example: Sparkplug gets to know earth born transformers, Nightflyer gets to meet bots like Skyfire 

Back at the base, Sparkplug gets annoyed with how much fanfare Nightflyer is getting, while she still gets treated like a sparkling 

She breaks Night’s social mask and gets to know the real him. A romance between the two starts to form 

Shockwave informs Nightflyer that they’re sending a team to take over the main Autobot base 

Shockwave employs the DJD to help in the Autobot attack 

Return to war 

Sparkplug confesses to Nightflyer, Nightflyer returns the feeling as he does like her.

Right before the invasion he tries to convince her that living on Cybertron wouldn’t be so bad. Sparkplug refutes that she likes Earth and that Cybertron would probably hate her.

The DJD and a group of seakers make their way to Earth and start fucking shit up

Big dramatic reveal to the characters that Nightflyer was a spy all along and is Starscream’s ward

Things are going in the bad guy’s favor until Tarn realizes Sparkplug is part Megatron.

 He orders his men to capture her and kill everyone else, as they have a new leader of the Decepticon cause 

The battle becomes even more messy as sides are switched and the Autobots and seekers are now fighting to survive

While attempting to help Megatron fight off Tarn, Sparkplug is grabbed by Soundblaster, who hopes to bring her back to Shockwave in order to get in his favor. 

Space distortion happens when Skywarp tries to help get Soundblaster out of there and accidentally sends him and Sparkplug halfway across the universe. 

This cases the DJD to leave as they are now looking for Sparkplug, and the seekers(after getting beaten by the DJD) are taken prisoner for now 

Depression but in space 

 Sparkplug and Soundblaster are in the middle of nowhere on a deserted planet. After trying to restrain one another, they realize they need to help each other if they wanna survive this mess

Back on earth, Rodimus comes back from space due to getting a SOS message, he is yelled at by his family

Acidstorm, Slipstream and Airachnid are absolutely furious about being stuck on earth for the time being. Nightflyer is currently being used as a verbal punching bag for the Autobots 

Back in Space, Sparkplug and Soundblaster start to develop a chemistry as they learn more about each other.

Rodiums takes it upon himself to get Sparkplug back as a way to make up for leaving everyone years ago. This is a big reference to “the lost light”, characters like megatron, rodimus, swerve and others join, along with some OC’s like Nanabah (native american sharpshooter) who forms a friendship with Preceptor, and Lobo (the lowrider transformer born on earth) 

Rodimus takes nightflyer under his wing in an attempt to reform him  

In space, Spark and Soundblaster start to feel romantic feelings for one another. However this is interrupted by them getting found by the DJD.

Soundwave takes it upon himself to split off from Rodimus group as he might be able to locate her better through his mind powers (I don’t know, it's all space magic man)

Sparkplug properly meets Tarn and is quickly given a new frame and alt mode against her will. 

Soundwave finds the DJD with Spark on it and sneaks on, However he is caught, and even if he fights well, he can’t fight off all of them.

Tarn forces Sparkplug to finally give into her anger when he kills Soundwave in front of her and lets her kill him. 

Spark takes on the name “Megatron” and is then forced to eat Tarn’s spark in an act of dominance. She is now the leader of the DJD 

There will be more to come!!! this is not all of it

Part two

[illyrianbitch]

Handsome as Life and Poison

For @erisweekofficial Day 6: Retellings

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: Defying your father’s sacred command, you wander to the grove where Spring and Autumn blend, only to encounter a sinfully divine figure with glowing amber eyes.

Warnings: sexual content/smut, nsfw! religious & biblical undertones & allusions, reader is overly innocent/naive, implied loss of virginity, sinner eris

Word Count: 3.5k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You shouldn't be here.

You can feel it in your bones.

You've never traveled this far, never managed to make it to the border. Your father warned you about this area, where the bloom of spring meets the decay of autumn.

He says that there is evil that lurks under the canopy of fire trees, that the blood of Autumn is so cruel it's cursed their very ground. Father has warned you that if you were to come across a fall beast, you would never return. At least, not the way you once were.

You understand his concerns—to a certain extent. He's protective. He has a certain plan for your life. Safety, purity, security above all. And father has been stressed recently, twitching hands and sharp reprimands.

Your High Lord has descended into madness, moving on all fours, his paws sinking into the mud, more beast than man. He prowls in the darkness now, no better than the creatures he once cared for, and your father believes there’s safety in the small village you call home.

It’s far enough from the heart of Spring to grant a quiet, predictable life. The faces around you never change, familiar and worn like the stones that line the village paths. It's peaceful, quaint—a life promised to you forever once you marry Adramis, the neighbor’s son.

Until then, your father urges you to stay safe, to temper the curiosity he knows stirs within you, the kind that might lead you too far, too soon.

Yet, despite his warnings, you find yourself here, day after day, drawn to the very place you’ve been commanded to avoid.

It's prettier, somehow, at this time of day— in the dim dusk, when the birds are beginning to tire. The air is tinged with an unfamiliar chill, a whisper of the season’s change that beckons you closer. You can see the colors of the autumn leaves clearly, watch as they sway in an intricate dance of red, orange and gold.

The movements stir something within you—a call like the ancient siren songs your father once spoke of, drawing you into the twilight's fire embrace. You take another step further into the shifting hues of the forest.

The rustling of leaves comes to your ears—soft, hesitant, as though a beast moves swiftly through the underbrush. The sounds intensify, multiplying by the second.

Beasts, you think, multiple.

You catch a fleeting glimpse of red hair through the tangled foliage, a figure half-hidden by the encroaching shadows.

You stop, and a sickening thrill rolls through you. You should turn back. But a phantom hand seems to beckon to you, an invisible thread leading you deeper.

Then you see him.

His clothes, finer than any you’ve seen even at your High Lord’s court, cling to his tall, lean frame, the dark green fabric glinting with gold thread that catches the last remnants of the fading sun. Each detail—his long, tailored coat, the sharp lines of his collar—speaks of wealth, power, and a meticulous cruelty you’ve only heard whispers about.

Your breath hitches. You know, deep down, who he is.

He’s surrounded by beasts, ferocious creatures with eyes gleaming in the half-light, their snarls low and guttural. Their presence should terrify you, yet you can barely hear them over the thundering in your chest. You count more of them than you have fingers, but with a subtle motion of the prince's hand, they fall still. Regal, patient, they sit at his side, watching you with the same unnerving calm as their master.

He studies you.

You want to take a step forward, to speak to him, but a rustling sound breaks through the stillness behind you. You turn sharply, scanning the underbrush.

From your side, a firm hand clasps around your arm, jerking you back with startling urgency. Almost immediately, once your body has been moved, the touch leaves you.

You meet the frantic gaze of your fiancé. His eyes are wide and his chest is rising and falling with uneven breaths. He ran here, you conclude. Past the border of Spring.

He's scared. Not just for you—but of something else entirely. Adramis is afraid of your father more than he is of what lurks in these forests.

"What are you doing here?"

“I saw—” You turn quickly, pointing toward where the figure stood moments before, but the woods are empty. The fire hue of his hair, the regal presence, the hounds—all gone, swallowed by the shifting shadows of the trees.

You glance back at Adramis. He's staring at you with furrowed brows, lips pressing together as if he's unsure whether to scold or comfort, wary as if you were troubled in the mind. His eyes scan your face, searching for something. You're not sure what.

“It’s almost dark,” he says, his voice calm but insistent. “We should get back.”

There’s no question in his tone. It’s not a suggestion, not really. He’s telling you—gently, but still telling you. He'd never force you, no, Adramis is sweet. Simple. But he’s a male and you are his promised bride. What good would you be if you were to get lost in the autumn woods?

Nothing at all, you suppose.

You don’t answer him. Your mind wanders to the fire-haired prince, to his amber eyes and the strange pull that brought you here.

Your silence seems to worry Adramis more. He steps closer, his hand hovering near your skin but never making contact, as if he’s afraid to touch you.

“Are you feeling alright?”

His voice is soft. Too soft, almost, to where it makes you shiver uncomfortably, like the touch of something too light, too ghostly.

You momentarily expect him to reach out, to place his delicate hand on your forehead or gently touch the flushed skin of your neck. But Adramis only hesitates, his hand hovering in the air for a moment longer before pulling back.

Too good for his nature, too holy to even touch you with a bare hand.

With a slight shake of your head, you dispel the strange sensation that lingers.

“No, I’m alright." You blink and muster a smile. "Thank you.”

He nods, though his eyes remain troubled. You follow him back toward the familiar warmth of home, casting one final, reluctant glance at the encroaching shadows of where autumn's decay kisses the air.

The leaves are aflame with fading light, but beyond them, the darkness waits—quiet, watchful, tempting.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You're grateful for the familiar routine of your father’s sleeping hours, for the certainty that he wouldn't wake for another few hours.

The sun is still waking now, too, its low, gentle light spilling into the navy sky. It is as slow and tentative as you, quiet in its bearings.

The air is cool and biting, the kind of chill that lingers in the space between night and day.

You wrap your cloak tighter against yourself. It's a thin fabric, white with green thread. It does little to ward off the morning’s bite, but you don’t mind. You welcome the cool breaths that manage to slither past the soft cloth.

The scent of the autumn forest is sharper, more vivid than the soft blooms of home, where everything is neat and ordered. It smells richer, more alive. As traitorous as it feels, you almost prefer it.

It’s only a short walk before you find yourself in the familiar patch of trees. The autumn leaves sing their song, that same siren call that led you here again.

And he’s there—alone this time. Waiting.

His amber eyes gleam and shine with a glow that you’re certain is sinful. You know, deep down, that you should leave, that holding even his gaze, with that burning stare, is treacherous. But you do not.

You're unsure of what to say, unsure if you should wait for him to speak. He pushes himself off the tree he'd rested against.

"Hello again, little lamb."

His voice drips with a smooth, hypnotic cadence. It wraps around you like an incantation, compelling and unholy.

It's strange to see him before you, to have him acknowledge you, to hear his voice directly. You glance around him almost instinctively, as if expecting his hounds to materialize from the shadows, to form a regal, beastly, floor-lain crown once more.

As if he senses your question by look alone, he lets out a small laugh.

"It's early," he says. "Even beasts must sleep at times, too."

Against your better judgment, the corners of your lips twitch upwards. He scans your face, taking another step towards you. You stand still, remain in the spot you had froze in. He begins to study you, walks around you like a shrine.

"A bit far from your home. Curiosity must be a powerful force."

He stops before you. You can smell him now. It envelops you—rich and intoxicating, a blend of autumn leaves and something darker, more primal. You clench at the sensation, a sweet tingle spreading through your body. It courses from your head to your fingertips, settling deep in your now aching core.

"My father says it's my nature."

Eris hums. The answer seems to please him. "And what else does your father say?"

You admire him for a fleeting moment. When the gentle breeze rakes its fingers through his hair, it glows like a live fire. Freckles dot his skin, spread across the pale coloring like the stars you adore in the sky. His eyes are a molten gold that match the detailing on his fine coat.

"That I shouldn't be here," you finally respond.

A serpent-like smile curls at his lips. It spreads slowly.

"And yet here you are."

You nod. The faintest shiver of fear lingers in your veins, but you're unable to tear your eyes from him. You feel an inexplicable pull, wishing for him to come closer, to feel the brush of his presence against you. 

Eris takes a step forward, his hand extending to graze the edge of your cloak. The touch is feather-light, a barely-there whisper of contact that sends a jolt through you. But it's firmer than Adramis's touch. It leaves you wanting more.

"Do you know who I am?"

You nod again. "Prince," you say, almost timidly. Quiet like a prey. "Son of the High Lord."

"Eris," he corrects. "My name is Eris."

"Eris," you repeat, his name falling from your lips like a comfortable prayer. You want to say it again, to taste the sweetness it offers your senses.

"And you are?"

You pause, brows furrowing slightly as you hold his gaze. His eyes still gleam, still glow with something so deliciously sinful, but something in them coaxes an answer from you.

"Y/n."

A moment passes. Eris takes a breath.

"Why did you return, Y/n?"

The way he says your name—a silky caress, a whispered secret—makes you yearn for him to repeat it, to let it roll off his tongue again and again. You have never heard anything so beautiful, so mouth-watering. You've never felt a desire this strong.

You struggle to find words, your head shaking slightly. “I-I don’t know.”

Eris’s gaze drifts to your lips, eyes darkening with a predatory curiosity. You're acutely aware of your lip trapped between your teeth and self-consciously release it, swallowing hard.

His eyes are intense as he meets yours again, almost devouring. But not scary. Not terrifying like you'd once believed.

"Does your village bore you?"

He knows where you live. That buried sense of fear begins to flare and you blink, swallowing hard as you take his presence in once more. He doesn't move, doesn't say anything else. Slowly, the fear dissipates.

"Yes," you admit. There is a stillness in your home that bores you. It makes your bones ache with craving. "But it is all I know."

He studies you for what feels like an eternity, his gaze intense and all-consuming. His hand, almost imperceptibly, brushes against the fabric of your cloak once more.

"You should return home, little lamb. Your father is going to worry."

Eris turns and leaves before you have a chance to respond.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The secret should make you feel dirty, feel guilty like a reckless child, but it does not.

You wake before dawn and, like clockwork, you're traveling before the first ray of morning.

It's become routine now.

You approach the familiar area, where the border of Autumn seems to hold its breath, waiting for you. And there, amid the crimson and gold of fallen leaves, lies Eris.

He’s sprawled on a blanket laid out on the ground, a feast spread before him. The array of foods is a vision plucked from your most indulgent dreams, an array of rich, and tempting dishes. Your mouth waters at the sight—at the lavish feast and the male who has provided it.

"Come," he beckons and pats the blanket beside him. "Sit."

You lower yourself, the fabric soft beneath you. The scents of the feast rise to meet you, mingling in the crisp autumn air. You turn to him, your large eyes drinking in the sight before you, the face of celestial allure: hair like a smoldering fire, eyes glowing with the golden light of autumnal sunsets. Eris’s features are etched with an ethereal grace that seems both ancient and timeless.  With each passing day, you find yourself yearning to worship at his feet, to forge a devotion just for him. 

“Eris?”

A melodic hum leaves his throat. “Yes, little lamb?”

“Why do you call me that? ‘Little lamb.’”

Eris's fingers graze your cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle, almost reverent. "I believe you know," he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing caress.

"Why did you seek me out again?” You ask him, “Why do you wait here?"

A smile curls at the corners of his mouth. He lets his fingers trace the line of your lips, his touch light as a sigh. “I believe you know that, too.”

Eris's eyes glint with something that seems almost divine. It is unlike anything that you’ve ever known, nothing like the stories your father has told you. Your gaze drifts to the feast laid out before you. You reach for a small, perfectly ripe apple, its glossy skin catching the muted light. The fruit feels cool and smooth against your fingers. 

Somehow, autumn's bounty surpasses even the lush abundance of spring. 

A sense of longing stirs within you.

How naïve you had been to think that your village, your court, held all the wonders the world had to offer. You had planned to stay, to settle into a life of security and predictability, never daring to venture beyond what was known.

You turn to Eris once more. His eyes flicker, amber catching the light as he reaches out, fingers brushing against your arm. His touch is featherlight, yet it sends a ripple of warmth through you. 

Your voice is barely a whisper as you confess, "I want to know a life bigger than my village."

“You wish to be free, little lamb?” He trails his hand down to where the apple rests in your grip, and with a slow motion, he gently takes it from you. "I can show you," he murmurs, turning the fruit over in his palm. His voice is like honey, rich and smooth. "You’ll know life—pleasure, want. All of it."

A tingle spreads through your body at his words, your breath shallow as you nod, leaning unconsciously into the heat of his presence. 

“Yes," you breathe, the word barely a whisper. "I want to be free.”

Eris’s lips curl into a grin, a quiet satisfaction settling in his gaze. He looks pleased, eager, as if he’s waited for this moment since time itself began. He draws closer and you can feel his presence everywhere, consuming, enveloping.

His lips brush against your ear. “Then let me show you.”

The apple falls from his hand, forgotten. He inches closer, the space between you dissolving as his warmth spills over you. A hand finds the delicate line of your throat, fingers grazing against your pulse.  With the lightest pressure, he lifts your chin, tilting your face toward his. His touch feels like a benediction.

He’s so close now that his breath melds with yours, the air around you thick with the scent of earth and fire. The world shrinks and the only thing that exists is him—his heat, his gaze, the slow, measured closeness that steals away your reason. His lips hover just above yours, and the ache of not touching nearly brings you to begging.

The first brush of his mouth against yours is light, a whisper, a tease, and you tremble beneath it. And then he claims you, his lips pressing against yours with a slow, haunting fervor. Your body goes slack as his movements seem to weave a spell, binding you to him with every caress of his tongue, every sigh he draws from your lips. 

You feel him guiding you, lowering you gently onto the blanket beneath, the world beneath you falling away. Eris hovers above you and dips his head, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your neck. His mouth sears your senses as he works his way down, the press of his touch growing heavier, more possessive with every inch.

“Such beauty,” he murmurs, “Unfolding before me like the dawn. You were meant to be here.” 

His words fall like a decree, a promise, and his lips continue their journey down, parting from your skin only to explore further. His fingers find the fabric of your dress. 

The air shifts around you, something soft brushing against your skin, falling away with the gentleness of leaves in autumn, leaving you bare to the elements—and to Eris. The cool air grazes your skin in places untouched by even the sun.

His calloused hands explore your bare form, one cupping your breast, fingers pressing and kneading with a practiced touch. His lips follow, settling on the other, and your hands grip the blanket beneath you— knuckles white as he demands your gaze to remain on him. His tongue circles your nipple, amber eyes locked with yours, burning, all consuming. 

Eris continues his careful exploration, moving downward as his lips follow the path of his hands. 

Fingers spread you apart with a confident touch. 

The sensation is profound and awakening, a mingling of sacred heat and cool anticipation. The essence of your very being is laid bare before him. You feel the brush of his fingertips against the tender places, feel as his lips follow with a similar reverence, their touch becoming a worship of its own.

And then he devours you with his mouth and hands. 

His tongue traces every inch of your throbbing core, flicking and teasing your sensitive nub. Your entire body quivers beneath him. You’re overwhelmed by a tidal wave of sensations you’ve never known before—an innocent purity being slowly unraveled and transformed by his touch alone. You tangle a hand in his auburn hair as his fingers plunge deep inside you, scissoring and pumping, working you over until you’re a quivering mess of desire.

Your body responds instinctively. You’re writhing and squirming, small sounds of pleasure falling from your lips. He bathes in the moans, groans in response as you repeat his name like a prayer. 

Eris sits up and soon you’re staring at his sculpted form, bare before you, ready to be worshiped, touched as he had explored you. His hardened length rests against you, blunt tip against your aching core, and you tighten your legs around him, pulling him closer. The crown of him splits you open with a steady pressure and he fills you completely, a divine intrusion that makes you gasp with the pleasure of being so thoroughly claimed. 

Eris stills, his body pressed flush against yours, your walls clenching around him as you adjust to the new, overwhelming sensation. His face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his hand cupping your breast, thumb teasing your nipple in slow, deliberate strokes.

“Let me show you how pleasurable life can be.” Eris leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender caress. “Just tell me you’re mine.”

You arch into him. “I’m yours,” you whisper, voice trembling with surrender. “Free me.”

And as he begins to move, begins to roll his hips against yours, you turn your head, gaze falling to the apple lying beside you, untouched yet no longer gleaming—its perfect surface now bruised, smeared with the dirt of the earth.

Father was right about one thing.

You'd come across a beast, indeed, and you could never return.

Not fully.

Not the way you once were.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

author's note: happy retelling day from ur local exmormon!! im an eve defender till i die. biblical lore goes crazyyyy

as always, thank you for reading <3

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[rabotimagines]

https://www.tumblr.com/rabotimagines/777430496310329344/battlefield-flirting-gn-bot-reader-x-megatron?source=share

I'm gonna be so fr I imagined Jazz as the one flirting, and why did it fit so well????

but also imagine Prowl being incredibly protective over Jazz when he finds out that the Decepticons want him-

Tbh older reader and Jazz are on the same wave length so it does fit. If Jazz was the one getting the cons horny he'd think it was funny as hell and play into it.

Here your ask made me think of another part for older petnaming reader.

"Show" GN BOT Reader x Jazz scenario

Summary: You make out with Jazz and act like you're interfacing to distract the Decepticons.

G1 characters: Jazz (The cons are also here getting horny! Prowl shows up at the end too.)

Warnings: Voyeurism

Genre/Theme: Horny 🔞 (more Mature than Explicit)

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: The entire make out is from the perspective of the Decepticons, Playful older reader, Reader: We should take advantage of the fact the Decepticons are perverts.

You all needed a distraction, and you needed one bad.

The Decepticons had started yet another world dominance plan, which was actually going well. And you needed to stop them now before it got any further out of control. Mirage could sneak into the temporary base the Decepticons set up and sabotage them from the inside. The problem was that the whole base was guarded to the denta, and you needed to distract at least one of the guards for Mirage to slip in. And then distract the rest of the Decepticons so Mirage can do his job without interruption.

That's when you get a crazy idea that might actually work.

You weren't stupid, and you were old enough to know what most the Decepticons were thinking when they started leering at you with hungry looks. You just continued teasing them on the battlefield, while not giving them even an inkling that you knew exactly how badly they wanted you. But now you might just take advantage of the cons little attraction to you. (It's not like it was your fault they seemed to want you like an energon goodie. You weren't exactly some fancy new build. You were a war trained soilder.)

So you raised your servo "Optimus, I might have an idea for how to distract a watchmech and all of the Decepticon high command at the same time."

Optimus paused when you spoke to give you the per verbal floor. "Oh? And what exactly might that be?"

"I just need one mech on board for it to work. So Jazz, question-" At your address, Jazz perked up from where he was sitting. "How do you feel about putting on- a little show with me to distract the cons?" The room goes dead silent at your question.

Jazz realizes exactly what you're implying the fastest. He leans forward over the table slightly, his plating tense and serious. "I just have an equally important question in response."

"Oh?"

Jazz's plating slacks casually, and a felinoid smile that reminds you exactly why you two got along curls on his derma. "Glossia or no glossia?" Oh, this would be fun.

-

"Honestly, we know they'll be coming sooner than later, we should attack them first while we have the upper servo!" Starscream argued with Megatron again over the decision to stay on guard.

"If they're going to come, then let them come! We will be ready for the Autobots, and we will destroy them where they stand!" Megatron snapped back in clear annoyance.

Just as Starscream opened his mouth again, one of the alerts went off. Drawing everyone's attention to the multiple camera feeds on the wide screen they had on the wall. "Soundwave report." Megatron ordered.

"Buzzsaw reports obvious activity in shrubbery ahead of himself." Soundwave tapped along his keyboard, and Buzzsaws internal feed camera was put up in full screen. Sure enough, the view of bushes shaking slightly was put into view. It stopped after a klick.

"Soundwave order him to find out what it is. And if it's a pest to deal with it accordingly."

The video feed showed Buzzsaws point of view of taking off and into the tree line where the movement had happened. The cons were left watching as Buzzsaw flew through the trees for a few klicks with no life in sight.

Only for a bot to eventually come into view.

"Jazz." Megatron muttered darkly "Soundwave, have Buzzsaw find out exactly what he's planning."

Soundwave nodded. "Buzzsaw, follow lead."

They watched as Jazz in root mode stepped over plant life with Buzzsaw silently trailing behind him in the trees. Eventually, he came to a small clearing where another mech was waiting.

You were waiting for him, leaning up against a larger tree, and your helm perked up when you saw Jazz. "Ah, yellow still on guard?" You asked with quirked derma.

Jazz just casually shrugged his shoulders. "Sure is. Looks like we'll be waiting for at least a Joor." Jazz leisurely made his way over to you.

"A joor till what?" Starscream muttered conspicuously.

Jazz met up with you, but instead of stopping in front like they'd all expected, Jazz got even closer to you. They all watched as Jazz propped an arm up against the same tree you were leaning against. Effectively trapping you between him and the tree. Jazz just smiled and raised his other servo to lightly cup your jaw.

"Really now. While we're on watch duty?" You didn't even seem upset by the incredibly wild development.

"C'mon, we've got a joor, and I know exactly how I wanna be spending that joor." Jazz leaned close enough that there was only a digits length between your faceplates.

"Soundwave I was not..." Megatron paused. "Aware that the two of them were this close to one another."

"Information not known. Proposal: may be both their personalities, opposed to relationship." Soundwave stated bluntly since he frankly hadn't seen any signs of you two actually becoming involved with one another like this.

The answer was obvious and easy to accept. Considering Jazz, let alone you. You'd flirt with your enemies on the battlefield constantly. While Jazz was... Jazz.

So when Jazz leaned forward and kissed you, the entire room was equally shocked.

"Soundwave retracts last statement." Soundwave bluntly remarked as he watched you kiss Jazz back.

Jazz's servos moved towards your chassis while yours went for Jazz's waist. You practically dragged Jazz forward till there was barely any space between the two of you.

Jazz's servos were greedily brushing over the front of your chasiss. Digit pads following the line and dips of your armor as he sensually touched you. You arched against his touch while your gasps and other small noises slipped out between where the two of you kissed.

"Wait, are they gonna frag?" Skywarp, who had been leaning back in his chair, was now sitting forward attentive and staring at the screen.

"What? No. Why the slag would-" Thundercracker stopped short and actually stared at Jazz and you. The longer he stared, the more he noticed how much you were both touching each other. He also noticed how he actually couldn't see if either of your modesty panels were still in place from the angle.

Were you actually about to-

Starscream scoffed loudly and turned on his thruster towards Megatron "Megatron, this is obviously a ploy to distract-" Jazz's engine revving loud in blatant undeniable want cut Starscream off.

"Yeah!" Skywarp shouted excitedly at the screen when Jazz slipped his glossia into your mouth. While multiple sounds of shock sounded out of the rest of them. Jazz closed what little space you had between you and boldly pressed his chassis up against yours. Your hips slotted together, and a heavy but muffled groan sounded out of you at the contact. Did Jazz just- slag. Did Jazz just spike you? Due to the side angle of Buzzsaws view and how close you were together, Thundercracker still had no visible clue if you were actually interfacing. But the motion and the angle of each of your hips certainly didn't paint any other picture.

Jazz rocked his hips, and you arched further against him. Your servos dragged jazz even closer towards you every time he rutted against you. Jazz's servos simply had not stopped wandering and fondling your frame the entire time. Every drag of his digits brought another little noise out of you. Either a huff or another muffled moan- You were still kissing each other fervently, and Thundercracker could occasionally catch glimpses of both your glossias-

You certainly weren't holding servos!

Thundercracker almost chokes on his oral lubricant at the very heated display and has to fight not to let his sparkdamned modesty panel pull back. His own spike twitching against his own panel every time another needy noise slipped out of you. This was going to haunt his less than innocent alone time- In a panic, Thundercracker glanced at Megatron, and almost balks.

Megatrons optics are a noticeable shade brighter than usual. He's also leaning forward and staring intensively at the little show you two were both putting on. Thundercracker hears your muffled moan and can physically see Megatron's optics brighten a touch further.

Starscream stood next to Megatron with his mouth hanging open, and his wings raised high, and they were twitching sporadically- Thundercracker realizes it's in time with your noises.

Thundercracker glances at Soundwave and does balk this time and then scowls. Soundwave was recording! Like, as if Buzzsaw wasn't already doing it! Frag, Thundercracker wasn't stupid enough to ask for a copy of the footage and owe Soundwave anything. Skywarp, however, would be asking- Skywap, who was leaning forward with a grin on his faceplate. Optics bright and not breaking his focus on the two of you for even a nanoklick

... Thundercracker could get it from Skywarp afterward.

You both break apart finally with huffy vents and Jazz groaned before shoving his faceplate against your throat. Subsequently hiding Jazz's helm from the camera view.

Only then does Buzzsaw's camera, which had been focused primarily on your frames, slowly panned upwards. To revel your optics were locked directly on Buzzsaw and subsequently them as well. The camera jerked when Buzzsaw flinched, realizing he'd been spotted. They waited for you to quickly inform Jazz that you were being watched or raise a blaster to fire at Buzzsaw. When, instead, the entire room watched baffled as your derma curled further, and your optics narrowed slightly. You then slowly and teasingly dragged your glossia over your derma. You then bit down on your bottom derma before simply turning back towards Jazz.

Yeah, Thundercrackers not gonna be able to be normal the next time you smile at him before a fight.

An engine revving and then stalling in the room makes Thundercracker glance right and see the two Constructicons (who he forgot where even there) also seemingly in a similar state as his own.

"Holy slag-" Scavenger muttered, staring wide opticed, at the video feed. Scrapper was simply staring, but even his optics were obviously running hotter than they should. A moan slipped out of Jazz this time when you started lapping your glossia at the detailing of his throat cables.

They all visibly jumped when a blaring alarm suddenly started blasting in the room. Thundercracker swore he could hear his own energon in his audials. Then he registered it was an alarm and not a sudden attack. Thundercracker had to dismiss his own battle protocols that sprung to life after the sound. "Soundwave report!" Megatron ordered.

"Weapon has been set to disintegration- from the inside."

"What!?" Megatron and Starscream both made a dash out of the room more than obviously heading to where the weapon was stored. The two Constructicons followed shortly after them. Scavenger tripping on his way out the door before getting back up to keep running.

"Buzzsaw, return. Base is compromised." After the order, Soundwave made his way out the door as well.

Buzzsaw's legs twitched when Soundwave spoke, and the branch he was on audibly shook. A blaster shot scrapped the side of Buzzsaws chassis, and he cried out and took to the skies. Promptly cutting off the camera show they'd had of you two.

"No! Frag!" Skywarp shouted in dismay, obviously more upset by the show he had being cut short than the fact that they'd been compromised. Thundercracker groaned and stood up while ignoring the heat of obvious interested arousal between his thighs.

Thundercracker probably would have to get a copy of it from Soundwave if he actually wanted to see that again.

-

"Whoops, and there goes the camera crew." Jazz stared up at the direction Buzzsaw had taken off in.

You just stared at Prowl, who was standing with his still smoking blaster in the air. A firm frown was on his faceplate. "Thanks for the save, Prowl." You nodded at him, and Prowl only grunted in response.

You raised an optic ridge while Jazz just turned to Prowl and grinned. "Oh, Prowl! Did ya enjoy the show?"

Prowl had only agreed to your plan if someone would be stationed to guard the two of you while you distracted the Decepticons.

Optimus thought it was a perfectly valid claim.

So Optimus told Prowl he'd be guarding you both.

Prowls faceplate didn't even twitch. (His doorwings did however.) "You've gotten too- into part. You should've stopped once Mirage messaged about successfully setting the detonation off."

You pulled Jazz's thigh up to your waist as if you were going to spike him- if your array were out anyway. You also worried your bottom derma at Prowl for extra measure. Your servo under Jazz's thigh and digits barely brushing the end of Jazz's aft. "Aw, C'mon Prowl, we were having fun."

"Yeah, Prowl- it's not like it totally didn't work amazingly or something. Ha ha. " Jazz chuckled and waggled his optic ridge at Prowl. Jazz continued to press his frame against your own while waiting for a response.

Prowl stared at you two for a klick longer before finally just sighing and moving past you both. "The Decepticons still need to be dealt with." You and Jazz watched him leave and eyed Prowls doorwings that were perked a touch higher than they usually would be.

You turned back to Jazz to share a look before you both finally broke apart, laughing.

[sophianightdreamer]

Things that happened in the Official Transformers RPG's lore.

So, I've got my hands on all three rulebooks of the official TF RPG. And also the G. I. Joe RPG, but that's irrelevant right now. My batch did not include the crossover rulebook, sadly.

Therefore, notes on the lore and other details in the "basic" canon, because TFWiki did not go into the details, that grew into this list of odd events mentioned.

First thing first, the general continuity is very close to Cyberverse or G1 Fanon, having the basic outline of G1 cartoon, but with details and chunks of backstory pulled from elsewhere - Optimus is a former archivist/data clerk, Bumblebee is a sportscar, et cetera.

To note, there's a somewhat short introductory "who-is-who" list and basic character sheets with profiles both.

Well, I've already got my whiplash, so it's your turn now.

There's something very funky going on with Devastator. Prowl's introduction blurb directly states that something Combiner Wars-esque/Prowlstator has happened, and reads as implying that Autobots hijacked Devastator. By all accounts, Scrapper is alive, making it a possible genuine canonical instance of Prowlastator with Scrapper alive, but the Constructions as whole are placed with the Decepticons. But, Tergamax mentions that among people that were at any moment replacement parts of Devastator there were five Autobots, Prowl included. What happened?

The "who is who" listing for Autobots includes declarations of jobs/roles/traits. Some of these are notable: 1) Ironhide is a chemist 2) Swerve is in Public Relations 3) Rung is Psy-Ops 4) Perceptor is specifically an engineer 5) Bumblebee is noted as "Hero of the People". Must be popular.

Speaking of roles, monochromatic SIC of the day is Jazz, who is also a strategist now.

All of the people in the introductory list are implied to be the Ark crew, and there are problems regarding space travel for Autobots right now. This means that Anode, Lug, those two kids from IDW2, Elita's team and Glyph are on the crew.

Rattrap is a Decepticon.

Optimus Prime has a thick Iaconian accent in Cybertronian. It turns "Teletraan" into "Teletron".

Character sheets include a list of languages that character speaks. Some of these past the standart English+Cybertronian are completely random. Optimus Prime speaks Dutch. Korean is surprisingly popular. In what could be a nice callback, Slingshot has Arabic. The only two people who know the language of newly-introduced alien species of Catharsians are Ratchet and Wildrider. But the crown is taken by First Aid, who has both ASL and Quileute. Yes, the basically extint language of a small tribe warring legally with Stephanie Meyer.

Speaking of languages, both Megatron and Shockwave are noted passable polyglots, and both lack the Universal Translator perk Soundwave, Blaster and Perceptor have. But while Megatron has vague but limited "languages from across Decepticon territory", Shockwave has "all common languages", implying he knows at least a bit of almost everything manually.

Tracks is a triple changer, apparently.

Decepticons' thing is mass-producing sparkless drone clones of their own members.

There's a general threat level system with lists included, where 0 is a random human civilian, 24 is Optimus and Megatron, and 25 is Omega Supreme and Scorponok. Chosen numbers for some characters are thought-provoking. Jazz is 14. Ratchet is 15. First Aid is 9. Wildrider is 6. Ironhide and Starscream are tied with 17. Lord Zarak by himself is 10.

Transformers The Movie sort-of happened, with no apparent notable casualties except for Megatron, who got Galvatroned, but there is a chance that Cyclonus, while a minion of Unicron, predates those events. He is also in an odd position of formally being a part of Decepticons and not the followers of Unicron, who are technically a separate faction.

Scorponok and Deathsaurus are member of Decepticon High Command/Conclave along with Shockwave and Soundwave. Nobody trusts Starscream, so he is not there, but he has the air force.

Mindwipe is, once again, a sorcerer.

Predacons, the combiner team, somehow adopted a sharkticon.

The evil plan du jour of, apparently, pre-Unicron era is converting Earth into the second Cybertron via several colony sites.

[bad-tf-fic-ideas]

(419) G1 canon divergence: when he leaves the Decepticons and becomes an Autobot, Skyfire keeps in contact with Starscream.

He feels like they're trying to tell him, "Skyfire. You must now stop caring about your friends. The ambient morality has moved on without you." And he isn't totally naïve, he knows he should absolutely not have the comm line for the Decepticon 2IC on speed dial.

But Skyfire is desperately unused to the war and he can't fix this about himself — everyone else has had millions of years to adjust and he's had a week. He is lonely, cybertronian culture has changed, and he doesn't know the Autobots very well... And, well, he likes Starscream. He doesn't like what he's been doing, obviously, but they were friends, once. Anyway, it's not like he tells him anything important when he calls him — well, okay, a couple of times, perhaps... but only because it was genuinely important to save Starscream's life!

Except... Now Skyfire's been hearing multiple, contradictory versions of battle plans floating around among the Autobots, and strategies are communicated at the last second. Skyfire's not naïve, and he's definitely not stupid: high command is feeling out the Autobot rank and file for a Decepticon spy. The versions of plans upon which the Decepticons act will slowly narrow down the possibilities until it can be revealed precisely who leaked them. This medium-term, methodical strategy has Prowl written all over it.

Part of Skyfire is affronted — he's not actually a Decepticon spy, you know. He's just worried about Starscream specifically.

(What are you talking about? Starscream asks, half-distracted, over the encrypted comm line. Of course you're a Decepticon spy. Starscream, Skyfire thinks, doesn't really get it. (Skyfire, perhaps, doesn't really get it.))

Eventually, Skyfire gives in to temptation, takes the bait, and warns Starscream about a particularly horrible threat. The Decepticons act on his intel and the leak is revealed, resulting in a dangerous and emotionally fraught flight from the Autobot base and Skyfire's shameful re-defection to the Decepticons. Starscream, of course, welcomes him with open arms and a smug little smile...

[valve3nthusiast]

Decepticon and Autobot propaganda definitely got weirder as the war went on and I'd personally like to believe that there's officially sanctioned patriotic pornography. for my own amusement

Somewhere out there is small porn studio barely skating past the censors by claiming their work is glorifying the superiority of Lord Megatron, when everything they shoot is cheesily scripted and horrendously acted pornos of "Megatron" spiking any and every high ranking 'con they had a vaguely similarly-shaped actor for (but like,,,, they're probably quietly funded enough to stay afloat by Tarn and his cuck kink tbh)

With a shoestring budget and audacity, they end up producing such gems as "Our Glorious Leader Foils His Traitorous Commander's Evil Plot With His Massive Fusion Cannon!" and"Loyal Officers Kneel For The Throne To Recive Our Emperor's Magnificent Throbbing Favor" and "Decepticon High Command Non-Stop Penetrating Action" just to name a few. There are many, many other works of similar... Artistic Value, that end up getting made fun of at Autobot movie nights for all eternity

Autobots of course prefer tastefully written Prime-kink erotica, except for Optimus Prime himself, who still can't find the person that gave the go ahead for propaganda division to write a series of spicy romance novellas about him. This haunts him at every officer's meeting. Someone will be presenting about troop movements or smth and he'll be staring into the middle distance wondering no, Prowl wouldn't... right?

The neutrals might not need propaganda, but of course they're still making porn so some are gettin freakay with it. Given how long they live I bet if cybertronians have copyright law itd be a fucking mess. They probably can't get away with using real names, but there are definitely some very thinly veiled stand-ins for various Autobots and Decepticons fucking in numerous offensive arrangements

Of course you can't throw a rock without hitting a vid starring a blue and red truck and a gray mechanism of indeterminable alt-mode, but that got old fast, and the neutrals started to get creative. The poor sucker that personally received a Cease and Desist from both the heads of the Autobot and Decepticon intelligence divisions went so underground that no one knows who to credit for the smash hit spy vs spy romance novel they wrote. sad

And like. neutrals making crossfaction porn isn't explicitly policed by either faction. but if someone wants to make a vid about Legally Distinct not-Skywarp getting stuck in a wall via teleporting accident and having his ports pounded by the not-Autobots, then they have to reckon with the very real chance that Skywarp the Actual Person will show up to beat the shit out of them

Idk where I was going with this. If you want to make me laugh come up with a terrible name for a terrible cybertronian porno and put it in the comments or replies or whatever the fuck it's called. peace

[fourphoenixfeathers]

@barkedupbitch asked for Prowl and I am happy to oblige :D

He’s very fun and i love him.

Ratchet’s sg coloration is based on my rescue squad’s engine and ambo, they are lime green :D

Prowl is a lot more hot headed than his canon counterpart. He still loves art and nature, but he is more passionate and aggressive in his expression. He’s blunt and irreverent, most likely in the team to actually talk shit about high command. If it weren’t for how isolated the space bridge crew was, they’d be giving him mad side eye.

He still got captured for draft dodging and was sent to the cyber ninja corps. Yoketron groomed him to take over the corps, and Prowl kept a lid on his reservations in order to avoid the consequences of being unfaithful to the autobot cause. However, when Yoketron showed Prowl the protoforms, Prowl was faced with undeniable proof that the autobots have complete control over the lives of all mechs, bringing them online for the sole purpose of sending them straight to training and war. Enraged by the abuse against life itself, Prowl kills Yoketron and then flees. Lockdown comes for the protoforms later, and he has mad respect for the mech who made his job a whole lot easier.

(Don’t worry about the protoforms, they’re fine. The decepticons are working on a way to start life without vector sigma or the allspark but at least the autobots cant keep sending newsparks to the horrors.)

Jazz meets the fabled golden student only to find out he’s the traitor who killed Yoketron… and I think Prowl and Lockdown would get along a lot better than in canon. They already worked well together, but now their ideals align a lot better. I imagine Lockdown was a courier in the early war, and he did a delivery for the Decepticons bc they pay well and Lockdown was in a desperate situation. At that point he just kept working for the decepticons, and started taking parts from captured autobots to replace the parts he loses in skirmishes. He had to get really good on giving himself emergency treatment in the field.

[dundeey]

What do you mean, "Prowl is not a cop"?

The essay we’ve all been waiting for. And by we I mean nobody. And by nobody I mean me. 

Introduction

To me, IDW Prowl is very clearly not a cop. To some, while in agreement that Prowl does not serve the role of a cop within the narrative, he is at least written to be cop-analogous. This, however, I still do not agree with. Those who think otherwise should pay more attention to the issues the character stars in.

Back when I had just finished reading IDW, I was pondering over this topic when I suddenly came across a wonderfully heated discussion between a passionate Prowl fan and some other users in a thread on the TFW2005 boards. This fan was fiercely defending Prowl from the cop-allegations given by both fans and third party Transformers figure companies. I read said user’s comments and was quite impressed (and perhaps even a little touched) by their arguments. When I had a similar discussion with some friends many months later, I tried to refind the thread, just to find ANOTHER thread, this time made for the sole purpose of discussing IDW Prowl’s alleged cop motifs. So, because other people have put this way better than I ever could, I'm mostly just going to share parts of their discussions with you. The threads are long, chaotic and full of irrelevant clutter, so I've carefully (but NOT cherry)picked out what's relevant so that you will (hopefully) see my side of things. So here we go.

By the end of this, it's important that we have established what exactly a cop is. We will also need to have established what Prowl's role is within the IDW canon. Then, because this is just as if not more important, we need to have analyzed the writer’s intentions. Finally, we need to see if the dots connect. Spoiler alert: they don't. Not even a little bit. In fact, I'm going to show you a couple of quotes by Prowl that are so ANTI-COP that it's almost comical. But first, let’s start off with something real stimulating: forum comments. Do skip to the TLDR if you don’t wish to read through four pages of them.

Thread: XM Studios Prowl statue

“Always feels funny to me when people not familiar with the character assume that Prowl is a cop just because he turns into a police car... when really, he was a military strategist in most continuities (and second in command to Prime in some). (...)” - user BB Shockwave

“I was just about to say the same thing! Prowl is not a cop! (lol) This sculpt looks really cool. I appreciate the aesthetics... but the riot shield and truncheon show that they didn't really get what the character is about (Ironhide instead fulfills that role in 1984, or Red Alert in '85). Prowl is a high-ranking planner, calculator, strategist, and in some continuities, a plotter. He's a quiet background guy.

This is sort of like producing a Starscream statue with a bellowing rage-face, or Soundwave in a break-dancing pose, or...uh... Cliffjumper with a clipboard? (...)” - user SMOG (in reply to user BB Shockwave)

“Prowl has been a cop in a very large amount of continuities. At this point him being a cop at one point or another is more commonly used.” - user octobotimus (in reply to user BB Shockwave and user SMOG)

“Really? In which continuities is G1 Prowl a cop?

RID Prowl was a police officer, and Armada Prowl started as a security officer, but they aren't the same character... like at all.

IDW 1.0 Prowl was a former police agent in flashbacks to the pre-war period in IDW (as were Chromedome, Orion Pax, Roller) though mostly in a detective capacity (mechaforensics, technically). IDW 2.0 Prowl seems to be a security officer, but that's also pre-war, so we can assume he grows into his standard military strategist role long before he gets to Earth.

In Dreamwave, not a cop. In Cyberverse, not a cop. WFC trilogy, not a cop. In Animated, he was a ninja. In Highmoon/Prime he was a high-ranking militia officer. In Marvel he was a strategist and first officer of the Ark. In Sunbow he was... just some guy?

That doesn't seem like a very large number of continuities. Am I missing any?” - user SMOG (in reply to user octobotimus)

“Prowl was at one point or another a cop in IDW, WFC/aligned, RID, and Energon by technicality (being on a swat team). And that’s not counting the continuities where he was part of a “security force” where he essentially was a cop but was named something else to sound more Cybertronian.” - user octobotimus (in reply to user SMOG)

“RID and Energon are different characters, unrelated to G1 prowl in every way except name and having "Police" stamped on their alt-modes. In WFC he was less a cop, than a high-ranking security director operating on the administrative level - a bit more akin to Intelligence than civilian policing and definitely not some beat cop with a shield and truncheon.

And as stated earlier, Prowl wasn't a standard officer in IDW -- he was a forensic specialist. The role and skillset don't quite fit the "cop" motif this statue is pushing. And IDW Prowl's depiction is so much more than "cop" -- whether it was in the writing runs of Furman, Barber, Roberts or Roche... Prowl's role was way more far-reaching and espionage-adjacent.

In fictions like IDW, where Prowl has been a top military strategist and intelligence director for millions of years during the most relevant periods of G1, why reduce him to the "law-enforcement" cliche when doing a depiction of G1 earth-mode Prowl? A more cagey or contemplative pose would have been less dynamic, but more representative of the character.

Should Optimus Prime and Chromedome now be cop-themed going forward because they were cops in IDW? And where does that leave characters who actually are explicit police-analogs like Ironhide, Red Alert, and Nightbeat (who don't have POLICE stamped on their alt-modes). Or perhaps Streetwise, who is implicitly a cop based on his bio, but not in terms of his official function.

As stated, all of these examples ultimately just stem from an ongoing, simplistic, and somewhat incorrect understanding of the character and his role. It's not a huge transgression... just a recurring pet peeve, that I think detracts from the appeal of this statue.” - user SMOG (in reply to user octobotimus)

“I don't find it reductive at all.

Rather, I think it helps to show the character is multifaceted.

For me, it wasn't "Prowl is just a cop" but rather "Prowl is also a cop".

So while I consider him more of an intellectual type, it was nice to see this figure showing Prowl in the middle of the action.” - user Smasher (in reply to user SMOG)

“Does it make him multifaceted though? I mean, one can draw on millennia of combat field experience without relying on a truncheon and giant shield with "POLICE" emblazoned on it. I think Snake-Eyes can be a commando and a ninja, just based on whether he's carrying a sword or not, but I'm not sure the police paraphernalia is as versatile in the case of Prowl (considering both his origins in G1, and his growth in subsequent G1 fictions).

I believe it's reductive from its point of conception, or at least based on reductive assumptions, but yes... of course it can be additive if we choose to supply our own context.“ - user SMOG (in reply to user Smasher)

“Idk man I think you’re overthinking things. As you can see by my profile my favorite character is Barricade, who is just a decepticon cop.” - user octobotimus (in reply to user SMOG)

“Barricade is a Bayformers invention... so who knows what he's really supposed to be or if anyone gave it any thought? Is he a cop? Does he actually do any cop stuff? Or does he just disguise himself as a cop car?

Logically, he's just another warrior. Or a tracker. Or even an intelligence officer (which is why he's paired with a spy like Frenzy)

Otherwise, as a cop, wouldn't that mean his job would be to act an enforcer on civilian populaces under Decepticon rule?

As you can tell, my favourite way to engage with Transformers as a longtime fan is precisely by overthinking things. :)“ - user SMOG (in reply to user octobotimus)

“(...) [Prowl] became a military tactician once the war started. I think most saw he was a cop in one continuity and it just made sense, so everyone ran with it. (...)” - user SunSwipe5

“(...) But even if he did time as a detective on Pre-War Cybertron, I don't exactly see the Autobot supreme military strategist on Earth doing random police grunt work in his spare time. :)

I think on some level, it's just slightly tiresome to see the most obvious motif repeatedly dumped on Prowl... ie: "you are your alt-mode". Especially when he rarely gets his due as it is. :)“ - user SMOG (in reply to user SunSwipe5)

Those were some pretty compelling arguments for not just IDW Prowl but Prowl’s disambiguation, and I wasn’t even gonna go there. Also, I love octobotimus’ last comment. Of course, if you think too hard, you lose. Classic rookie mistake. Moving on.

Thread: Is PROWL a bad cop analog? (IDW)

“I saw a Facebook post in a tf group about how Prowl in IDW is a bad cop analog based on the things he's done. That list included bombing a city, leaving the autobots, becoming a part of Devastator, putting Overlord on the Lost Light, and more.

I however see it as Prowl being out for himself, and not so much about him being a crooked cop. Bombing a city was to stir up AUTOBOT ranks, which is his faction. Becoming a part of Devastator was originally not of his own will, but gives him a strike force to carry out his actions. Putting Overload on the Lost Light... maybe he was bad for that.

In any case, I can see where the argument comes from, but I don't agree with it. Prowl was never really a police analogue to begin with. His official title is as a Strategist and Analyst, which lends itself to that kind of work. True, he has the paint scheme and held the office, but that doesn't mean he fits that motif after leaving cybertron.

I dunno. Discuss if you want I suppose.” - user Tankhunter48

Author’s note: So, while I like to post comments from both sides of a discussion to keep things neutral, I’m just gonna come out and say that the first half of this thread is filled with unhinged comments that are not just based on bad opinions, but straight up say shit that is not true. I could go through each of them and give my counter-arguments like an insane person, but if I show you a bunch of bad arguments just to refute them, you’ll basically gain net zero information, and that’s a waste of both of our time. So I’m going to jump straight to the comments that are actually saying something worthwhile. But by all means, go through the thread yourself if you want to have the same agonizing experience I did.

“I have never once heard of a cop doing any of those things. Bombing a city? Never mind becoming part of a combiner. Someone on Facebook doesn't know what analog means.” - user SouthtownKid

“Fans like to make comparrisons between things they don't understand and claim it was an analogy/metaphor/symbolism a lot.

If Prowl was supposed to be a "bad cop" he'd be a stereotypical brutish, power-absusing crook on the take so-to-speak. Someone who hides behind his authority and only does the bad things he does because of the safety and freedom it grants him.

IDW Prowl is cold and calculating. Apathetically doing awful things or turning a blind eye in a misguided sense of justice and logic. He cannot see the trees for the forest as it were, focused so much on statistics and strategy he'll see widespread death and suffering as acceptable losses if it means moving closer to ending the war or achieving a goal he deems "worth it."“ - user SPLIT LIP

“(...) Exactly, he's not the "bad cop", he's the realist.” - user TGS1985 (in reply to user SPLIT LIP)

“Prowl is a good example of how the D&D alignment system is far too simplistic and restrictive to be very interesting (in my gaming days, I preferred systems without this sort of artificial character trait system). He isn't evil, or even neutral because everything he does is to promote the social good as he sees it. He does little, if anything, for his own selfish benefit. He isn't exactly good, because he's very willing to allow suffering if he sees it as ultimately advancing the public good. He certainly isn't chaotic, because he believes in and promotes a strong government presence. He isn't lawful, because he believes he, as a de facto representative of that government, has a right and obligation to step outside the bounds of the law to promote the public good as he interprets it. I suppose you could argue that makes him neutral on the L/C spectrum, but I think that's a stretch. Like many relatively well-written characters, he doesn't fit on that sort of simplistic grid.

I'd argue he isn't a bad cop, because he isn't a cop. The stereotypical cop, good or bad, is someone on the beat or in the field. Prowl is a guy behind a desk.

If you want to categorize Prowl by archetype, I think Smog has been very on point in describing him as a Magnificent Bastard. He's a Manipulator. He's an Extremist, in that he's willing to go to just about any length in pursuit of his (public, not selfish) agenda.“ - user theosteve

The perfect comment to conclude this discussion with. You can’t argue against it, can you? Indeed, Prowl neither thinks like a cop nor acts like one. The closest Prowl gets to being a cop is when he disguises himself as a cop car while stationed on earth, but, as user SMOG stated, that argument gets dangerously close to the “you are your alt-mode”-mindset.

TLDR

Cop or no cop…? Well, let’s see here. At some point Prowl was in forensics. Eventually, he turned into a military strategist. From what we see, Prowl was never some jock in the field. He’s always behind a desk, thinking of the next best move that will bring his faction closer to winning. On top of that, Prowl is not in it for himself or for those he deems superior to others - he has a vision of what a just world looks like, and fights for it. That is all that Prowl does, it’s all that he is. The thing is - he doesn’t look great doing it. And I think that, more than anything, is what makes people reduce Prowl to a bad cop - it’s the fact that he does bad things. Prowl putting Overlord on the Lost Light has nothing to do with the conversation, but it’s still an argument that’s being used, because people don’t like it. What’s funny about this is that, while exclusively in fiction good cops do exist, Prowl is not even that. This isn’t about Prowl being good or bad, it’s about whether he’s a cop or not, allegorically or otherwise. And to prove that he isn’t, I’m gonna share some very important images that are paramount to understanding Prowl as a character:

The Transformers: Death of Optimus Prime, James Roberts & John Barber

The Transformers (2014) #37, John Barber

Oh… Oh. Here we have Prowl single handedly putting an end to this discussion by revealing his past, and Spike representing the average IDW reader. How’s that for a lore dump? It’s as if Barber solely wrote this to check if anyone was still reading this shit. Nobody talks about this, despite it giving more insight into Prowl’s backstory than the first two phases of IDW, and it baffles me. Why do these discussions even exist when issue 37 of EXRID is right there? In fact, why didn’t I just show this at the very start instead of spending five hours on something that no sane person is going to read? Ugh.

Conclusion

So, Prowl is not a cop, period. Why? ‘Cus he said so. See, it’s right there. “I was a cop”. Past tense. Gottem. However…, let’s ignore semantics for argument’s sake, and focus on the big picture: Prowl saw the system for what it was (“the real criminal”, oof) and proceeded to destroy it from the inside out. It made him lose everything and everyone in the process. Despite that, he calls himself proud. Prowl even sided with the Decepticon cause for a while (calling it “our revolution” no less…!) before Megatron turned into a villain… leading Prowl to feel betrayed once again. At this point, he wants out, and he tries, but his failed attempt determines him to keep fighting for another four million years. 

The conclusion is this: if you argue that Prowl is a cop, I’m just going to assume you didn’t read the comic.

[lord-squiggletits]

I think what I'm trying to express is that there's two aspects of Optimus being a "good person" at play here: there's the propagandistic public reputation, AND the personal actions/justifications of Optimus himself.

For public image, I don't think IDW1 ever intended to have Optimus' reputation as the Paragon figure be unquestioned (pretty much all of Autocracy, Chaos Theory, everything Barber wrote in phase 2/3). The fact that he's viewed in universe as A Good Guy isn't something the writers frame as "this is a fact of the universe," it's framed more as "this is a social/political factor that affects how Optimus is perceived as well as what he does to try and take advantage of (or deny) this."

So for this reason I don't find "ignorant fool" fanon!Optimus to be very compelling; canon as a whole was never trying to argue that Optimus is an Unquestioned Moral Good, so when fanon tries to subvert this by making Optimus evil/an asshole/bad at running his own army, it comes off less as an interesting subversion/exploration of canon and more like people just haven't read canon that thoroughly.

Then there's Optimus being a "good person" in terms of what he actually believes, does, and orders others to do and like. There is literally no question of it, IDW OP is under no delusions of his moral goodness and no delusions of just how shitty war/post-war society is. Pretty much Optimus' entire life is him going "God I'm taking one step forward and two steps back, people want me to be their Heroic Leader and I don't want to be but I also want to live up to their expectations, but if they believe in me as their Heroic Leader it means I can more securely lead them in war. Goddamn it I'm a horrible person but what other choice do I even have, if I don't do this then I'm going to be giving up an advantage I have in this war to stop whole planets from Literally Being Colonized."

Like idk it's just absurd to me this idea ppl have that because Prowl got away with doing blatant war crimes/ethics violations behind Optimus' back, somehow this means that Optimus is completely clueless as to how shitty war is and is unwilling to do morally gray things in the name of victory? Despite that the fact that he DOES, ON SCREEN, ALL THE TIME? How are people conflating "Optimus doesn't want to do literal war crimes" with "Optimus thinks/pretends that he's never done anything wrong in his life"?

One of my least favorite parts of how JRO wrote Optimus is that he wanted so badly to continue his dark and gritty world building making the Autobots problematic, but evidently couldn't reconcile this with Optimus being a Heroic Paragon, so instead he leaned way too hard into "oh Prowl was the one who did this and it was behind Optimus' back" which if anything I think makes Optimus look worse, not better. Because then it's like, okay I know Optimus trusted Prowl a lot as his friend but you CANNOT TELL ME that over the course of 4 million years, Optimus as the leader of the Autobot army who literally would have access to 99.9% of all the records they produce, would never notice or question where some of these odd/inconsistent details were pointing. It just seems really inconsistent with how a real military would actually function, especially regarding Optimus' character, who is incredibly thorough and responsible and wouldn't neglect to keep up with all the details of his army.

Hell, Optimus knows who the Wreckers are and had them on call for tricky operations when he needed them (Stormbringer) so he's literally not at all ignorant of/averse to the use of special wartime units composed of dubious individuals. He's the fucking commander of an entire army, of course he knows that War Is Hell (TM) and no one's hands are clean. That's not even getting into all the stuff he got up to in phase 2/3, I mean everything from the annexation of Earth to OP breaking humans out of prison against Council orders shows that Optimus is no stranger to immoral and/or unlawful means.

It also leads to a lot of annoying fanon where people write Optimus (sometimes unintentionally, sometimes not) as like some sort of ignorant fool who's unaware of the machinations of his own army or has some sort of naiveté of "b-but we can't use bad tactics against the enemy! I would never condone the use of morally gray means in war!" No, IDW Optimus knows perfectly well all of the bullshit he's enacted/condoned for the sake of trying to win the war. Some stuff is definitely out of character for him and was only machinated because of Prowl, but I think this fandom REALLY underestimates Optimus' personal agency/responsibility as the commander of a whole ass army and ESPECIALLY underestimates Optimus' capacity to condone morally gray Bullshit Of War while still being a good person individually as well as, comparatively, the lesser evil compared to Megatron/the Decepticons.

Anyways what I'm saying is JRO may be a good writer but he's really hesitant to make Optimus morally gray and does some asspulls sometimes to justify most of the bad things the Autobots did as "Optimus just didn't know," and since the majority of the IDW1 fandom only reads JRO's stuff they go running with this premise of ignorant/uninformed Optimus when there's evidence elsewhere in canon to show that Optimus is, in fact, very highly aware of the bullshit he's allowed "for the greater good" and the only stuff he was "unaware of" was the stuff he would literally never agree to the ethics of, like bombing innocent neutrals disguised as Decepticons to get them to join the Autobots.

[yayasvalveplay]

Amnesiac Megatron in TFA!! That would be so fun!!!

Like maybe Starscream was actually able to do something effective for once and figured he actually did kill Megatron and now has full command over the Decepticons.

Meanwhile Megatron is missing most of his armor and a lot of his memories, maybe the last thing he remembers is his old life as a miner named D-16, and that's how Optimus and his repair crew find him. So of course they welcome him aboard and he becomes a valued member of their crew.

But a member they have to hide whenever contacting Autobot High Command or going to Cybertron.

And then, after the key is used to fully repair D-16, he gets his memories back as Megatron - but also remembers his time as D-16 the Repair Bot. That's gotta be awkward in a lot of ways.

From there Megatron has to make a decision - take back command of the Decepticons or pretend he isn't Megatron and stay with the small team of repair bots-

Oh who is he kidding? He's going to try and have both, especially when he remembers those long nights in Optimus's quarters, comforting him after a session of disparaging remarks and "Don't be a hero, it's not in your programming" from Ultra Magnus.

Optimus: Can we keep him?

Bumblebee: We kept Prowl

But yes. OMG you guys Your ideas are so good!!!

Starscream did succeed, letting Lockdown whip his memorys just in case . And now all megatron remembers is being D-16 a miner on Cybertron. And has to learn through Ratchet and Op that Warbuilds like himself have been kicked off of Cybertron.

"So I have no where to go?"

"Well unless you come with us. This ships big enough for one more passenger."

And he becomes apart of the crew. Having to stay hidden or off world when they go to Cybertron, and hide when they are expecting a call. For 600 years they go like this. Op and Dee falling for one another, Dee finding his spark beats for poetry that he loves to write about his found family (most being op) And fighting. He teaches the bots how to defend themselfs and gets Prowl to open up more. Sibling moments between them, Bee, and Bulkhead.

Now we all know that the stasis pods are relatively small, there's only like one larger pod for Bulkhead,

"So what happens if an emergency does happen? and we must go into stasis."

"You could go out the airlock. You are a flight frame."

"But lets hop it doesn't ever come to that."

Only for it to come to that when Starscream adorbs the ship looking for the allspark.

"LORD MEGATRON!!!!"

" You have the wrong bot con."

"Oh, guess that memory gun wiped you a bit to far back. No matter prepare to die,, again."

Of course Megatron has a semi hard time getting him out, and seeing as they were decending does the only thing he can think of. He's husrt. Starscream hurt him more his plating was still damaged despite the repairs.

Sending them both to their dooms.

Both heads were found by a young Sumdac.

And Op had to go into stasis thinking he'll never see Dee ever again. Everyone was. They all thought of him as apart of the family, he was the glue that held them together. And now he was gone, and they were stuck on this organic planet.

[raspberrighost]

I finally finished the ref for Crosswind! I love her sm. Shes just kind of a big ol pookie.

She's calculating, a lil loud, but mostly just doing her best.

Shes a wee bit shorter than Jetfire despite her alt-mode being larger than his. She's just compact!!

Info stuff down below :V

Crosswind has a deep running loyalty for the autobot cause and anyone who is under her direct care. This loyalty often leads to her calculating high risk, high reward situations in battle to ensure everyone makes it home. This willingness to engage in risky actions makes her come across as a lil’ unhinged, but she is assured in her abilities and driven by her need to keep casualties down.

When in battle she is seen in the skies, offering support in many forms. Often she is found evacuating injured parties, and containing the fight to its current area to minimize casualties. If able she will intervene in active gun fights, using her size and speed to ensure whoever is pinned safety. 

She has a decent amount of combat experience,  and what she doesnt know she makes up for in her ability to process information and throw her weight around. Fighting against similarly sized bots means she has to rely on her smarts more than experience and fire power. If others are present and at risk she will continue to engage until they can get to safety or she dies. 

The only way she will disengage is if someone can convince her processor that her present calculation is incorrect. 

-

Generally very pleasant and kind off the field, she does keep a distance, rarely indulging in her personal thoughts and past experiences, but enjoys small talk with the other bots around the base and learning about them. Gets along with most everyone at a base level, but struggles to make deeper connections because of it. It’s a mix of both fear of not seeing them again, and self-doubt. 

Despite this hesitation, she is fairly close with some bots like Jazz, Sideswipe, and surprisingly Ratchet. She does work closely with Prowl off the field, and while they hold a mutual respect, her propensity to disregard rules and risk her own safety means they often butt heads.

She adores the Earth's fauna and flora, adopting the color green quickly for her altmode when she arrived, as green is not commonly found on Cybertron in such beautiful abundance. She kept parts of her orange coloring as a tactical choice so she is easy to see in forested areas and the sky for her team to quickly locate for evacuation. This is a double edge sword as it makes her visible to the enemy, but it's a risk she has been willing to take since the beginning. 

Prior to the war she was an intelligence analyst, constantly searching for flaws and ways to mitigate long term risk for multiple clients. Once the war started she hesitated to join a side, unable to convince herself that a side ran mostly by the previous militia’s personnel was good let alone a side where brute strength seems to rule all. She believes this hesitation led to the loss of some of her closest friends. 

Quick tid-bits:

She is built for long hauls, and landing in tough terrain. This makes her use essential when hunting for energon in remote locations.

She has the ability to survive for longer periods in harsh climates. She is often used as a warming hub/base of command during these missions in order to prolong their mission. 

Her support varies on the needs of her team. She can put out encroaching fires to minimize damage, contain fights, remove injured, or transport. 

Crosswinds altmode is an Illyushin, a multi-purpose strategic airlifter, built to haul 88k lbs 3,100 miles in under six hours (thats from southern Cali, up to Maine in less than six hours for perspective). The build also makes them perfect for landing in rough terrain and taking off on short notice without much runway space. Occasionally used as a command center.

They were built to be all-arounders, and therefore I wanted Crosswind to represent that. They even come equipped w two rear guns, but it wasn't their obvious purpose.

lil close up of her pre-war look, and a comic close up

[takingchences]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 𖤟 prologue

Where Savanna Rios, the reigning queen of Beacon Hills High, learns that while she may be at the top of the social food chain, she's not the only predator prowling the halls.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x siren!fem!oc

Warnings: mature language, dark themes

series masterlist + playlist + other works

*** Friendly reminder that this chapter takes place in season 1 to give you a glimpse of their relationship. The rest of the story will follow season 3 ***

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶ ⛧ ⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶

How does one describe Savanna Rios? She's like Regina George, but meaner and hotter. Love her or hate her, Vanna commanded respect. She was the only student at Beacon Hills High Coach Finstock couldn't intimidate. The man likened the teen to his younger, female counterpart. He enjoyed watching her terrorize Greenberg and all the other idiots and delinquents that annoyed him.

Stiles Stilinski worshipped the ground she walked on. He'd been head over heels for the girl since she'd moved to town in the first grade. Vanna, Stiles, and a girl named Heather had all been close as kids, but drifted apart as they grew older. Nowadays, the three hardly spoke at all. Vanna socialized with the popular clique, Heather transferred schools, and Stiles was always getting into trouble with his best friend Scott McCall. Speaking of which....

"Oh, God. Look at them," one of her cheerleaders, Mallory, nudged Vanna's side. She snickered, pointing at the two dark haired boys talking animatedly. Scott quickly lowered his shirt after Stiles reached out to touch the bandage around his waist, glancing around nervously.

"So lame, right?" Harley from her other side joined in. Vanna ignored them. The girls were more like followers than friends. They trailed after her like ducklings that imprinted on the first thing they saw. With no free will or opinions of their own, they only said what they thought the ravenette wanted to hear. Just like everyone else.

"That is freakin' awesome," they overheard Stiles Stilinski saying. "I mean, this is seriously going to be the best thing that's happened to this town since Vanna Rios moved-"

"Stiles," his friend Scott McCall sighed, spotting the Devil herself in her uniform walking towards them with two other cheerleaders by her side. Stiles noticed her too, brushing a hand over his buzzed hair. "She doesn't even know your name."

"She knows my name, okay?" Stiles argued, straightening his shirt. "Hey, Vanna!" The boy called out, holding his hand up with a goofy grin. "You look... like you're gonna ignore me." He continued, his voice growing quieter as she strutted by without a glance.

Vanna stopped at the bottom of the steps and turned, looking straight at them. "Bilinski!" The ravenette called out, her straight, chest-length hair blowing softly in the breeze. Stiles and Scott froze, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Vanna snapped her fingers and pointed down at her spotless white cheer shoe, where one of the laces had come loose.

"On it!" The pale boy tripped over himself from how quickly he ran over to help her. He crouched down and retied her shoelace as she braced her right foot against his knee. Her two minions giggled above him, exchanging smirks. Vanna smiled down at the boy condescendingly with her arms crossed.

"Thanks, Biles." The head cheerleader walked away with her two shadows as they laughed and shook their heads in pity.

Stiles returned to Scott's side with a sigh, refusing to acknowledge the look of see what I mean? on Scott's face. "See? Just like I said. She knows most of my name." The pale boy finally admitted, his hazel eyes locked on Vanna's figure.

"Uh-huh." Scott quietly agreed, the two climbing the steps and entering the school. "I don't get it. Why do let her walk all over you like that?" Scott asked as they headed for their lockers.

"I don't know what to tell you, Scott. Alright? Pretty privilege is real." Stiles gestured wildly with his hands. "She could back over me with her car and I'd pay for any damages my body may have caused her paint job." The boy stared off into the distance, where Vanna could be seen giggling with Danny Mahealani. Vanny and Danny. The two, like Scott and Stiles, had developed a deep, sibling-like bond over the years and were rarely seen without the other.

"And why 'Biles,' anyway?" The tan boy shook his head with a confused look.

"Because," Stiles rolled his eyes, putting in his combination code. "When we were kids we went on a field trip to the zoo and she dared me to eat one of the food pellets. I did it—like an idiot—and barfed in front of the entire class."

The shaggy haired male snorted. "Why the hell did you agree to that?"

Stiles pursed his lips, pulling out his textbooks for first and second period. "She's very persuasive."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶ ⛧ ⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶

Beacon Hills was always a little out of the ordinary compared to Vanna's memories of San Diego. But lately things in the small California town were getting too strange to turn a blind eye.

Firstly, half of a girl's dead body was found naked in the woods. There weren't any leads to go off of just yet, but the police believed the Jane Doe to be a victim of an animal attack. Secondly, benchwarmer Scott McCall was suddenly a lacrosse god. Word has it that he actually flipped over his teammates to score a goal at tryouts. Then, days later, a half-dead man was found mauled in the back of a bus at the school. Yeah, things were definitely getting hairy in Beacon Hills.

"We'll figure it out-" Stiles tried to reassure a panicked Scott. Suddenly, they were joined by a third person.

"Figure what out?" Lydia sat down, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing with every movement. The two boys stared at her with wide, unblinking eyes, dumbstruck by her arrival.

"Uh-" Scott glanced frantically between Stiles and Lydia. "Just, uh... homework."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed lamely. He leaned across the table. "Why is she sitting with us?" He whispered to the werewolf, who shook his head in bewilderment.

Allison and Greenberg sat down next. "Hey," Allison greeted the table with a bright grin.

Danny appeared a moment later, noticing all the available seats were by Stiles. The lacrosse goalie sighed heavily and sat down, purposefully leaving a chair between them as he avoided eye contact with the pale boy. Stiles nearly choked on air as he realized what was happening. Because if Danny was sitting with them then-

"Why the hell are you sitting over here?" Vanna stopped at Danny's side with a grimace, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "We don't like these people."

"Play nice, Vanny." He pulled the chair next to him out from the table with a small smile. "Sit down." The cheerleader rolled her eyes but obeyed. She pulled a box of Reese's Pieces out of her bag and tore the tab open.

"Oh," Danny's expression grew smug. "Chocolate and peanut butter. I see your secret admirer is back." He held out a hand and she poured some into his palm.

"Duh." Vanna tossed her long, glossy hair over her shoulder with a perfectly manicured hand, a genuine smile on her face as she spoke with her best friend. "I'm the hottest piece of ass at this school."

Stiles made a noise of agreement, his cheeks turning red as he continued to stare at his dream girl sitting inches away from him with a hand over his mouth. "S-secret admirer?" His voice was a few octaves higher than usual. He cleared his throat, fidgeting in the hard plastic chair.

"Oh, yeah!" Allison gasped. "Lydia mentioned something about that. Somebody puts candy in your locker on Wednesdays, right?"

Vanna nodded, crossing her legs. The movement caused her skirt to ride up her thigh. Stiles forced himself to avert his eyes. "Get up," Jackson stormed over, glaring down at Greenberg.

"Why do you never ask Danny to get up?"

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot or up his ex's skirt." The goalie sassed.

Vanna groaned with a grimace, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "God, did you have to remind me about that dark time in my life?" Greenberg reluctantly moved and Jackson claimed the spot at the head of the table. "It was a two week fling in middle school. Do I have to carry that shame with me for the rest of my life?"

"Yes." Stiles answered aloud. She narrowed her eyes threateningly at the buzz-haired boy. He chuckled awkwardly, making finger guns.

"So, I hear they're saying it was some kind of animal attack." Danny bit into his apple.

Allison frowned. "Another one?"

The boy shrugged. "It's probably a cougar."

"I heard mountain lion," Jackson argued.

"A cougar is a mountain lion."

"A cougar is a mountain lion, dumbass."

The table went silent.

Lydia and Vanna shared a look before the redhead backtracked. "Isn't it?" The Latina rolled her eyes before tossing a candy into her mouth. Was there a better combination than velvety milk chocolate and creamy peanut butter?

"Who cares? The guy's probably just some homeless tweaker looking to die anyway." The lacrosse king said dismissively.

Stiles sat up, looking at his his phone. "Hey, I just found out who it is. Check it out." The group all leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the video playing on his phone. Stiles stopped breathing as he felt Vanna's hair brush against his cheek. Having the scent of coconut and peaches so close made him blush furiously.

Any other day, Scott would've laughed at how fast the poor boy's heart was racing from such a small interaction, but he had other things on his mind at the moment.

"I-I know that guy." He explained how he knew the victim, looking understandably freaked out. After hearing more details of the alleged animal attack, the mood was pretty bleak. It was only made worse as Lydia suggested a double date. Vanna watched, amused, as Stiles made hilarious faces during the couples' conversation. He looked physically pained the longer it dragged on. She giggled quietly.

"... you know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork," Jackson deadpanned.

"Do we all get a turn?" The lacrosse captain flipped off the ravenette.

"Vanny, Danny" Lydia pipped up, batting her eyes innocently. "Do you want-"

"No way," she denied. "I'd choose death by mountain lion before going on a group date with you losers." Her best friend nodded in agreement.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶ ⛧ ⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶

Another animal attack. Another dead body. This time, Lydia and Jackson were witnesses.

Now, Vanna wasn't exactly close with either of them. Jackson and her butted heads more times than not, which forced poor Danny into the roll of peacemaker. Lydia could be nice when she wanted to be. Some days the two girls got along fine, while others they were at each other's throats. There wasn't any personal beef (contrary to popular belief). The two girls simply didn't know how to get along. They were pit against each other so often, constantly compared to the other that it drove them both crazy. It wasn't a competition. They could both be beautiful, intelligent women. Having one there didn't take away from the other's value.

Then, as if things couldn't get any more fucked up, Vanna was then trapped inside the school with Stiles, Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson. Oh, not to mention a psycho killer was also in the building, hunting them down.

Despite the late hour, Vanna had still been at the school. The cheerleaders had been tasked with helping make decorations for the winter formal. Most of the squad had stayed after practice to help, but Vanna eventually sent them all home while she swept up the glitter on Coach's floor and laid the posters they'd painted out to dry.

She'd run into Scott and Stiles after going to investigate the strange sounds coming through the intercom. She'd floored the young werewolf with a strong uppercut, mistaking him for a burglar in the dark hallway.

After scrambling to find an excuse for breaking in, Scott left to find Allison after receiving a text while Stiles guided Vanna back to the lobby. All night, even while they were running and hiding from whatever it was that was chasing them—because it sure as Hell wasn't human—Stiles kept her within reach, constantly adjusting so that he was placed slightly in front of her.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Vanna didn't try to bite back her smart comments. It was obvious that Scott and Stiles were lying through their teeth about the killer's identity and why he was now targeting them. The only pieces of their story that rang true were the parts about the janitor being dead and someone being after them. There was real shock and fear there. It was obvious when they'd screamed at the sight of her in the hallway earlier that they'd been fleeing something or someone.

"What are we gonna do? Throw acid at him?" Stiles had joked once they'd taken shelter in a chemistry classroom on the second floor.

"No, like a fire bomb. In there is everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail." Lydia corrected him, moving towards the locked cabinet.

"Self-igniting...?" Stiles frowned.

"Molotov cocktail." The group stared at Lydia in confusion. "What?" She fidgeted. "I read it somewhere."

Stiles sighed, gesturing towards the cabinet. "We don't have a key for that either..."

He was cut off by the sound of glass shattering. Vanna set down the barstool she'd used to bust out the glass and reached into the empty panels in the cabinet door to remove the chemicals they would need. She shrugged. "I found a key." Her expression dared someone to say something. The teens wisely chose to remain silent.

Jackson snorted, stepping over the broken glass to help her grab the needed materials. The rest shook off their dazed expressions and got to work measuring out whatever chemicals Lydia instructed them to use. "Jackson, hand me the sulfuric acid." Lydia held a hand out. Her boyfriend hesitated before grabbing the bottle next to the one he'd originally reached for. Vanna narrowed her eyes from beside Stiles. Lydia mixed it all together before handing the weapon off to Scott.

"No," Allison blocked his path as he moved to leave. "No, this is insane. You can't do this. You can't go out there, Scott."

"We can't just sit here waiting for Stiles' dad to check his messages," the shaggy-haired boy argued.

"You could die," she stressed tearfully. "Don't you get that? He's already killed three people."

"And we're next," he reminded her, gently nudging her aside. "Somebody has to do something."

"Scott, just stop!" The brunnette panicked. "Do you remember... do you remember when you told me you knew whether I was lying or not? That I had a tell? Well, so do you. You're a horrible liar and you've been lying all night." She's not as oblivious as I thought, Vanna observed the scene from where she was perched on the edge of her usual desk.

"Just, please, please don't go. Please don't leave us," Allison pleaded. "Please?"

Scott stared at her for a moment before looking at Stiles. "Lock it behind me." His girlfriend pulled him into a desperate kiss, making the cheerleader roll her eyes in disgust. Scott left the classroom in total silence.

"So... we're just not going to talk about how painfully awkward that was to watch?" Lydia bobbed her head, swaying from side to side. "Okay."

Vanna picked at her chipped nails. Tonight's harrowing events had destroyed her manicure. She'd have to get them redone before winter formal. "I mean, I almost volunteered to take his place just to get away from your whiny as-"

"Van." Stiles shot her a look that she understood to mean behave. Her nose crinkled in annoyance.

Allison didn't react, far too busy pacing the room. "I don't get this. I don't get why he'd go out there and leave us. And I can't-" she dropped her hands from where they'd been fiddling with her hair to stare at them. "I can't stop my hands from shaking," she whimpered. Jackson moved to comfort the girl, under the watchful eyes of Lydia and Savanna. The redhead quickly turned away with a pained expression.

Jackson Whittemore had ruined Lydia Martin. He'd taken a strong, smart, confident girl and broken her down emotionally. She was forced to hide parts of herself that he didn't like or appreciate in order to receive the same affection he'd given the new girl for free. Savanna tore people down because they mostly deserved it. Jackson made people miserable for the hell of it. And now, he'd set his sights on someone that was already taken with zero regard for the girl whose heart he owned completely.

At least Lydia looked as fed up with the situation and Allison as Savanna herself felt. It wasn't often that the two agreed on something, but this was one of those rare moments where they could come together and support each other. Coffee brown eyes met green and the two girls shared a look of understanding.

Stiles was scared shitless. His best friend was out there, alone, risking his life. The Alpha was lurking somewhere in the shadows waiting for him. His dad could check his phone and arrive any minute. He was currently trapped in a classroom with the biggest douchebag he's ever met, an emotional wreck, the secret genius of Beacon Hills High, and his tormentor/crush.

"Hey," he slid into the spot next to her on the desk. Vanna side eyed him but chose not to comment on his proximity. "I just, uh... I want you to know that there's nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried." She lifted her brow pointedly. "I can handle myself."

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "I saw the way you took down that cabinet door." She bit her lip to contain her smile, but the boy still noticed. "And that right hook you threw at Scott earlier?" He nudged her arm with his elbow. "Badass." It completely took them by surprise how the petite girl had knocked a werewolf flat on his ass with one blow.

She rolled her eyes and smiled. It wasn't her usual cruel or smug smile, either. This one was genuine.

"Turns out you have a pretty nasty right hook yourself." She jerked her chin in Jackson's direction. His jaw was already starting to bruise.

"Ah-yeah, that." Stiles blushed, flexing his stiff knuckles. He'd definitely have to ice them if they ever got out of here. "It actually felt pretty good."

"It's not Derek that's after us, is it?" Savanna whispered, not wanting to be heard by the others. Stiles stiffened, his hazel eyes going wide.

"Wha-what?" He stuttered, avoiding eye contact. He shook his head with a look of disbelief. "Scott said-"

"I know what Scott said." Stiles felt trapped by her intense stare. "But as we've already established tonight, you're both terrible liars. So who's really out there? The Alpha?"

"How-" he gaped, looking at the others warily before leaning closer. "How do you know about that?" He whispered.

"I heard you and Scott talking in the cafeteria."

The two teens were locked in a battle of wills. Stiles crumbled under her knowing gaze. "You can't tell anybody." He stressed, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"Who would I tell? I don't even know what we're talking about." She rolled her eyes. "But it sounds gang related. So, who is this guy?"

Stiles exhaled through his nose, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I don't know."

Savanna always thought of herself as superior, but it wasn't because of a complex or anything. She really was different from everyone around her. Her senses and reflexes were far better than your average person. She could smell things others couldn't, like the pack of mint mojito gum Stiles always carried on him. She could hear things, too... and this was the first time all night she hadn't heard his heartbeat spike.

Stiles was telling her the truth.

The seven students were now scattered across the parking lot of the high school. Stiles' dad had shown up just in time with reinforcements after Scott had locked them in from the outside, sealing them inside with no chance of escape. Vanna finished giving her statement to the kind officer and headed towards her car. She'd just tossed her cheer bag in the backseat when Stiles appeared. "Hey," he smiled breathlessly, having run all the way over to talk to her. "About earlier..." he started, leaning awkwardly against her car.

"I didn't say anything to the police, if that's what you came to ask." She crossed her arms.

Stiles blinked, mouth gaping like a fish for a moment. "No, that's... I didn't-"

"Then we have nothing to talk about. Good night," she interrupted, dipping under his arm to slip into the driver's seat. The pale boy watched with sad eyes as she drove off. He'd really thought they'd gotten somewhere tonight. She hadn't made fun of him or insulted him all night. In fact, she'd called him by his name and had actually smiled at things he'd said.

Sheriff Stilinski pulled up next to him in his squad car and rolled down the passenger window. "Get in." His son climbed into the car and settled back into the seat with a sigh. Noah looked over at his son, noticing his disappointment. "Girl trouble?" He asked.

"That obvious, huh?"

"Well, I am a cop," Noah pulled the car into the driveway and parked, though neither of them made an attempt to exit the vehicle. "And believe it or not, I was your age once."

"I just thought after everything that happened tonight," Stiles squeezed his eye shut, dragging a hand down his face. "I dunno."

Noah reached across the console to squeeze his son's shoulder. "Son, girls like that eat guys like you for breakfast. You're better off."

Stiles disagreed.

He wasn't in love with the idea of her like so many others—this gorgeous, seemingly-perfect girl. She was so much more than the stereotypical mean girl. They only looked at the surface level. Sure, she'd called him Biles Bilinski as a joke since grade school. And yes, she was the one who broke into his locker last year and covered his stuff with whipped cream... but she was also the same girl he'd befriended as a kid. The one who'd given him a piggyback ride home after scraping his knee on the playground. The one who'd dressed up as Belle for a month and a half straight because she was her favorite Disney princess. Stiles knew her before she was the girl she is today. He'd seen sides of her that she keeps hidden away from others and herself.

Everyone made fun of him for chasing after a girl he could never have, including his best friend. Even his own father encouraged him to stop wasting his time on Savanna Rios. But Stiles Stilinski is stubborn and persistent. There was always a chance that things between them could change. If he'd learned anything in the weeks following Scott's transformation, it was that in Beacon Hills, nothing is impossible.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶ ⛧ ⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶

"Are you not freaking out?" Stiles and Scott walked out of the locker room after Coach announced the new co-captains. "I'm freaking out."

"What's the point? It's just a stupid title." Scott was still moping. Stiles had taken him out the night before to drink and help him get over Allison dumping him. Unfortunately, they learned that werewolves can't get drunk and Scott had ended up babysitting his wasted best friend. The full moon was coming and not even the announcement of his new position as co-captain could get him out of his funk. "I could practically smell the jealousy in there."

"Wait," Stiles threw an arm out, stopping Scott in the middle of the hallway. "You can smell jealousy?"

"Yeah, the full moon is turning everything up to 10."

"So you can pick up on stuff like," the pale stared down the hall at a group of cheerleaders talking. "I don't know, desire?"

Scott gave him a small, knowing smirk. "Desire?"

"Like, sexual desire." Stiles elaborated.

"Sexual desire?" Scott repeated with high brows.

His friend was growing impatient. "Yes, Scott, sexual desire. Lust, passion, arousal." He rolled the "r" with his tongue. The werewolf spotted a familiar face among the group of girls.

"You mean Savanna."

"No," Stiles immediately denied. "In a general, broad sense. Can you determine sexual desire?"

"From Vanna to you?"

"Fine, yes." Stiles clenched his teeth. "From Vanna to me. Look,  I need to know if I have a chance with this girl. Okay? I've been obsessing over her since we were freakin' seven."

"Why don't you just ask her?" Scott suggested.

"To save myself the utterly crushing humiliation, thank you very much." The paler boy said in an obvious tone. "So can you please just go up and ask her if she likes me? See if her heartbeat rises or pheromones come out," he waved his hand around his head.

"Alright," Scott gave in, unhappily walking towards the group of cheerleaders.

Stiles watched him in disbelief. "I love you," he called after his friend in excitement. "I love you. You're my best friend in the whole world."

The group fell quiet as Scott approached, the girls eyeing him up in down in confusion and curiosity. "Can we, uh, talk for a second?" He asked the ravenette. Vanna frowned but agreed, walking with him over to coach's office. Vanna leaned her hip against the edge of the desk.

"Is this about the other night?"

"Do you know if Allison still likes me?" He asked with those sad, puppy dog eyes. Vanna scoffed, crossing her arms with a sneer.

"How the hell would I know? We're not friends."

"You hang out in the same circle." He shrugged, moving closer. "I thought you might've heard something."

"Well, I didn't. Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you, so..." she tried to move around him to get to the door but was blocked.

"I was trying to protect you," he stated in a low voice, taking another step towards her. Vanna refused to retreat and held her chin up confidently, even when her instincts were telling her that something was wrong. This was not the Scott McCall she was used to. "All of you. Why can't you see that?"

"McCall-" she placed a hand on his chest to keep some distance between them.

He inched closer, inhaling deeply. "You smell... good." His nose brushed the skin of her neck as he leaned in to sniff her once more. His strong hands gripped her hips painfully, rooting her in place. Vanna fisted a handful of his long, curly hair and yanked, forcing his head back and away from her.

"Do not touch me." She hissed, her pupil's dilated as they made eye contact. She threw him to the side and stormed out of the office with a slam of the door.

Turns out, after Scott had made an aggressive pass at her, he'd turned around and made out with Lydia Martin. Then, as if he was trying to incur the infamous wrath of Rios, he injured Danny during lacrosse practice. Everyone stopped what they were doing to rush to the boy's side.

The ravenette shoved people out of the way to kneel next to him. "Danny? Are you okay?" Her hands hovered over him, not wanting to injure him further. Jackson joined her a second later. "Where does it hurt, Dan?"

The goalie laid flat on his back, blinking slowly in confusion.

"Dude!" Stiles walked over to Scott and removed his helmet. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What?" Scott snapped back. "He's twice the size of me."

"But everybody likes Danny." Coach moved to the side to allow the sports medic through. Vanna and Jackson stayed by their hurt friend. "Now everybody's gonna hate you."

"I don't care." He stormed off.

Vanna squeezed her best friend's hand in reassurance and comfort as the medic tested Danny for a head injury. The cheerleader and Jackson each took an arm and propped Danny between them, walking him to the locker room to be examined further.

"Control your dog, Stilinski." She spat as they passed him.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶ ⛧ ⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶

"I brought you some water," Stiles walked into Scott's dark bedroom. The boy in question was lying on the floor chained to the radiator. Stiles held up a bottle of water and a dog bowl with his friend's name written on it in sharpie. He poured the bottle out and set the bowl on the ground a little ways from Scott.

The werewolf threw the full bowl at Stiles' back as he made to leave. "I'm gonna kill you!" He growled.

"You ruined it, Scott." Stiles whipped around, pretty pissed off himself. "Okay? Van told everyone what you did. That's my... like, the one girl that I..." he struggled to voice his concerns as so many thoughts and emotions flowed through him. "And you know, the past three hours I've been thinking, 'it's probably just the full moon,' you know? 'He probably doesn't even know what he's doing. Tomorrow he'll be back to normal and he probably won't even remember what a complete dumbass he's been. A son of a bitch, a freakin' unbelievable piece of crap friend-"

"She came onto me."

"What?" Stiles breathed.

"She was all over me," Scott smirked darkly up at him. "She wanted me, man, and she smelled amazing." Stiles left, sliding down the wall just outside the bedroom. He shook his head, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth as Scott continued to spew bullshit. Stiles had waited for the girl outside the locker rooms and begged her to tell him what happened. She'd cursed both boys in Spanish before telling him how Scott had practically forced himself on her. "I've never smelled anything like that before."