Starscreamrants // OpMeg // WaveWave//KoBd//BdKo

My boss is a bitch and we need OSHA (((Mod inhales em dashes)))

[starscreamrants]

Pinned Post:

(((Mod: All questions are allowed, and nsfw is allows but will be marked as mature content. I may summon cybertronian-hr but only as a joke. Star can sometimes be rude, so if you ever feel uncomfortable or have specific boundaries let me know.)))

For future reference, peasants: As your future Supreme Commander, I grow weary of your inability to properly navigate this primitive blogging platform. Thus, I have graciously compiled a catalogue of my tags for your pathetic convenience.

My Personal Tagging System:

#second in command not second shield → Documentation of Megatron endangering me specifically.

#dark energon is not a lifestyle → For Megatron’s… indulgences.

#hazard pay does not exist here → War crimes against workplace safety.

#fusion cannon goes BRRR → Friendly fire, i.e., attempted murder.

#prime is a hypocrite → Self-explanatory. He needs to stop clanking Megatron aft.

#future supreme commander energy → Manifesting my inevitable rise.

#do not perceive me i am suffering → My complaints.

Specific Interactive Askers Tags:

#voidentity returns - asker always with the strange hypotheticals, A

#Wickerbug🪲- My personal Chronicler

#Hel3ne - A vehicon among many others who deals with Megatron's drug addiction

#Star-Scribe, -Aetherion, Star-Scribe, a poet of artistry who eloquently takes my glory into verse

— Starscream, your rightful leader

[starscreamrants]

@exiledmegs

Ah curious

(((mod: it seems by the time I got to answering this ask this blog got deleted 😞. if anyone has any details about the blog though perhaps I can update my response)))

[starscreamrants]

(you ok mod? Its been a month since your last post)

(((Thank you for asking, I appreciate the concern. I'm just surviving family drama / I finally got a full time job. Sorry for the late reply, but responses will resume soon, albeit at a slower pace/timeset)))

[starscreamrants]

(((Mod Announcement)))

(((mod unfortunately will be away for five days. Also for organization purposes, once I return I will start numberingtagging each post with star #. On a side note does anyone know if they can unsend (not delete) an ask by accident? I was mid answering an ask about planes but all of a sudden it disappeared.)))

Edit: seems I'll be gone for awhile longer

[starscreamrants]

https://www.tumblr.com/thirdwheelingrightalong/796573114364493824/im-flopping-guys-send-help

I hand you this and I run away

“Wha— what is even happening here?! The Nemesis is— it’s— it’s plunging into Primus knows what, and you’re just standing there offering snacks?!

Unbelievable. Truly, the intellectual decay of this crew knows no bounds. I’m surrounded by incompetents! Do you have any idea what it means for the Nemesis to “begin its final plunge”? It means our demise, you glitch-ridden imbeciles!

Where are we?? Why is Knock Out here?? Why am I here??

None of this makes any sense! Someone explain this simulation immediately before I lose what’s left of my processor!!”

dramatic wing flailing noises intensify

[starscreamrants]

Ah, sorry here-

You smell of sulfur and rust. You look like a pole that gained sentience and crudely welded some scrap metal to it's back and you walk around hunch over like an unflattering gargoyle. You fly like a pigeon with a crooked wing and make a mockery of the fighter jets you used to blend in.

Is that better than "stinky?"

(Note to mod: I do genuinely love what you're doing please don't take this as an attack at you, hope to see more from you!)

Oh. Ohhh, I see how it is.

A sharp intake was heard—and then a shrill laugh, the kind that borders somewhere between outrage and disbelief.

Sulfur and rust? A pole with wings? A crooked pigeon?! Sulfur is a natural byproduct of jet fuel, you uneducated protoform! I reek of power! And as for rust—excuse me for living through more battles than your pathetic planet has wars!

He gestures grandly to himself.

Hah! That, my dear wordsmith, is called character. It’s called history! Every molecule of so-called corrosion is a medal of survival! I’ve lived through more explosions than your species has functioning brain cells, so forgive me if I don’t smell like a scented candle (despite the fact that I smell quite wonderful, since unlike some mechs, I take pride in my frames caretaking).

And a crooked pigeon? You dare compare me—the most aerodynamic, the most sublime aerial combatant in Decepticon history—to one of those feathered waste-bins that defecate on your primitive city monuments?! Oh, how droll! How utterly tragic that your imagination extends only to the boundaries of a public park!

He throws a hand over his chassis dramatically.

Blasphemy! Slander! A grievous assault upon my name!

I soar! I cut through the heavens with the precision of a blade forged from lightning itself! When I fly, the clouds part in reverence! When I strike, armies scatter! The only thing crooked about me—” his grin twists, sharp and full of dentae “—is how the universe bends to accommodate my brilliance.”

He leans in close once more, voice a low, dangerous rasp. “Do you know what I call you? An insect that hasn’t yet realized it’s beneath my heel.

Then, after a moment, his voice drops low—smooth, cutting, dangerously calm. The Seeker tilts his helm, optics narrowing to slits.

…But. I suppose imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. You did put effort into your insults. Creativity. Imagery. It’s not every solar cycle someone attempts to dress up their jealousy in verse.

A faint, smug smirk creeps in despite himself. So, congratulations, anonymous critic. You’ve made your mark. But I assure you— He leans close to the camera, voice a silken hiss.

…If I ever find you, when I find you—and I will—you’ll discover that a crooked pigeon can still tear out your optics at Mach 3.

He straightens, wings flaring in full, proud display.

Next time, try flattery. It suits you far better than delusion.

(((mod: to the worried anon, don't worry about insults, it's always fun to expand and show off stars vocabulary during these asks. And sorry for taking so long to respond to this ask. I unfortunately had to take some time off due to life being an ass among other complications.)))

[starscreamrants]

Hello! I'm not your infamous hypothetical anon, but I do have a hypothetical of my own.

It's a bit of an odd one, and you might need a while to think about it. Maybe sit down for this one, Starscream. You're also not obligated to answer at all!

Say, hypothetically, you suddenly have all of the abilities of the infamous Unicron. You don't know how, but you know definitively that you won't ever lose these powers. What do you do?

—Sit down? Ha. I am the one they should be warning to sit down when the sky rearranges itself. Very well. Your hypothetical is delicious. All the abilities of Unicron—permanently? Intriguing. Terrifying, if mishandled. Exhilarating, if wielded with genius.

First: the immediate, practical reaction.

Steps I would take:

Secrecy and calibration. Test limits in absolute privacy. Calmly. No displays, no proclamations. I would learn what I can alter, what I can sculpt, how the cosmos answers my will. A smaller moon, shifted subtly. A star dimmed a fraction. Energetic signatures remapped.

Anchor myself to identity. Unicron’s power consumes identity; I would anchor Starscream at the core. Runes, matrices, wards—call it what you like—I would integrate mechanisms (and a loyal few engineers) to preserve my mind and taste while channeling godlike scales. I will be the mind that orders the force, not the force that swallows the mind.

Strategic augmentation (not annihilation). Use this power to reshape logistics, not merely destroy. Reforged forges, that produce superior alloy and energon. Terraform pockets of resource where my followers can be provisioned. Create infrastructure that binds worlds to me through dependence—not fear alone.

Political consolidation. Quietly manufacture indispensability. Offer solutions to crises only I can solve. Rescue a colony from a manufactured catastrophe; broker a resource treaty by moving a comet into orbit (subtly). Make leaders grateful, indebted, then absorb loyalty. The Decepticons would see tangible benefits and rally; Autobots would splinter under the pragmatic allure of order.

Selective spectacle. When spectacle is required, make it symbolic and evident of my prowess: reforge a war-torn world’s sky into a banner that bears my sigil. Not wanton destruction—curated awe. Let the universe know a new intelligence commands its fate.

Recruitment and culture. Build an elite—seekers reborn, Predacons tamed, organics elevated—those who serve competence and artistry. Train them, elevate their stations, bind them with purpose. Power consolidated through culture lasts far longer than power hoarded by fear.

Neutralize direct threats intelligently. Primes, tyrants, and self-righteous generals who rush me shall find themselves outmaneuvered, not simply incinerated. Force the battlefield into my terms—deny them leverage, cut supply, turn their myths into liabilities. If a Prime insists on open war, he will learn that gods who plan are harder to oppose than gods who rage.

Legacy and restraint. Rewrite the narrative the right way: make my rule the inevitable improvement of order, efficiency, and artistry. Leave monuments and documentary that teach future generations to prefer a competent sovereign. Always keep a mechanism to relinquish or reframe the power if corruption approaches—better a controlled abdication than becoming another mindless devourer.

Risks I’d acknowledge (and handle):

Consumption of self: limit exposure; retain council and failsafes.

Universal coalition against me: avoid making myself a mindless existential threat; make conquest attractive, not purely terrifying.

Losing my legscy to myth: codify my personhood in chronicles (Star-Scribe, you will have work), in laws, and in culture so that “Starscream” remains more than a cosmic phenomenon.

Would I become Unicron and simply eat everything? No. That is vulgar and unimaginative. I would remodel the cosmos to my aesthetic and political design. I would be the cosmic architect who sculpts order from the raw materials of worlds. Empires fall and rot; I would build systems that endure—innovation, incentives, structure.

And if anyone asks whether I could be stopped after that? Laughable. Not because power is absolute—but because by then I would have made myself necessary. The difference between a tyrant and a sovereign is that a sovereign is woven into the machine of civilization. I would not want to be merely feared. I would be relied upon.

So yes—I take it. I master it. I do not become a monster of blind hunger. I become the reason the heavens obey.

—Commander (Soon to be Lord) Starscream

[starscreamrants]

*It’s been quite a while since you’ve last heard from the person(?) who left that camera and small box on your door step. It’s gotten to the point where you almost considered throwing them both out. Until today, when you realize the small camera seems to be on. It appears the screen is blank, but as you get closer I beeps, and text begins to file on the screen. It reads…*

“It’s been a while. Hope you missed me. If not that’s fine too. Just came to check on you again. Life’s been busy, but in a way dreadfully boring, if you understand. Anyway, I don’t have anything cryptic for you today. I hope you’ll bear with me, while I think of something fun to baffle you with.”

-Your favorite lurker, S

The Seeker stood over the little device, wings twitching as the screen’s pale glow flickered across his plating. A low scoff slipped from his vocalizer, but it lacked its usual venom.

“So… the phantom returns.”

He crossed his arms, optics narrowing at the message as if it might sprout fangs at any moment.

“I had almost assumed you’d finally been devoured by whatever dimension you crawled out of, S. Truly, I was moments away from repurposing this infernal box as a datapad stand.”

A pause.

“…But, I suppose, there’s something to be said for consistency. Even if it comes from lurking shadows and vague letters.”

Then, a sharp laugh. “Boring, you say? Hah! You’re telling me. Between Megatron’s… diplomatic distractions, Knock Out’s vanity experiments, and the Vehicons somehow managing to break gravity plating again, I’m beginning to think tedium is the real Decepticon enemy.”

He leaned closer to the camera, optics flaring with amusement. “Very well, S. You have my attention once more. I’ll tolerate your absence—this time. But next time you vanish for so long, I expect a better excuse than ‘dreadfully boring.’ Even I manage to make boredom look magnificent.”

He straightened, wings flicking, a faint smirk ghosting over his faceplates.

“Now, go on then. Baffle me. I do so enjoy when someone tries.”

The Seeker hesitated just a moment, his tone dipping low—quiet enough that only a careful ear might catch it:

“…And, ah… it’s good to know you’re still out there, S.”

[starscreamrants]

H3lene:

Commander,what do we do if Lord Megatron **hypothetically** gets sparked?

WHAT—WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!? What sort of cursed question is this!?

SPARKED!?

You— you vile, blasphemous little glitch-mind! What possessed you to speak such horrors into existence!? By the AllSpark, I can feel my processor shorting at the mere concept!

Lord Megatron—with a sparkling?!

You dare—no, no, Primus help me, you’ve actually made me imagine it! The terrible Lord Megatron—the Bringer of Destruction, the bane of Autobots, the scourge of Cybertron itself—sparked!

Do you have any idea what that would mean for us all!? The temper tantrums! The mood swings!

There will be cravings. There will be nesting instincts the size of the Nemesis itself! I have seen Predacons in the throes of rage, and I assure you—Megatron with hormones would make them look positively docile!

He’d probably start crying over battle reports and threatening to level entire continents because someone looked at him “the wrong way”!

And given how… frequently he’s been playing “diplomat” with Optimus lately, it’s—oh no. Ohhh no, it’s not even implausible! It’s probable! At the rate they’re—ahem!—“holding private peace summits,” he’ll be sparked up before the next orbital cycle!

As the humans so charmingly call it—well, statistically speaking, it’s only a matter of time before one of those encounters results in a most unholy consequence.

So! Hypothetically, when that occurs—and he’s temporarily incapacitated by… maternal developments—naturally, I, Commander Starscream, would assume full control of the Decepticon ranks. Someone must ensure the war effort continues without devolving into chaos (or a baby shower).

All I require is a way to… persuade Soundwave to acknowledge my leadership during Megatron’s delicate condition. A minor obstacle. Surely, the communications officer can be reasoned with… or distracted. Or—Primus forbid—bribed..

But—ahem—as your ever-capable Commander, I would also, of course, take immediate and decisive action to assure our troops safety during his rage:

Emergency evacuation of the bridge. No one needs to be within fifty kliks of him when the cravings start.

Inform the Prime IMMEDIATELY. There will be absolutely no ridiculous tragic misunderstands, considering I will most likely end up suffering at the servo's of their own stupidity.

Prepare for spontaneous emotional instability. Should Lord Megatron begin nesting—or worse, reminiscing—you will not laugh. You will not question him. You will nod and compliment the décor.

And lastly, I’ll be in my quarters. Temporarily. For research purposes. And self-preservation.

Yes. Yes, that could work.

And as for you, whoever you are, bringing this image into my neural net—if you so much as breathe a hint of this hypothetical to Lord Megatron, I will personally eject you from the nearest airlock and let the space finish what your imagination started!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go… lie down. My helm is aching.

…A sparkling. Megatron. Sparked. By the Pits, I need a stasis nap.

[starscreamrants]

Commander Starscream - We're following your orders exactly. I'm unable to send a live feed (Clearance level didn't allow it, do I inform HR or CMO Knock Out?) but I will record everything. It will be delivered after I send this message. TIC Soundwave's thermal sweep detected an organic life-form. CMO Knock Out... left after that as he said there wouldn't be any need for repairs if it was just an organic. The acoustic sweep finished afterwards and registered Insecticon snarling as well as strange organic sounds. HR is currently being informed that there was an Insecticon in the Vehicon bay. We implemented your Tiebreaker protocol by asking TIC Soundwave to choose as you weren't present. He stared at me, so we assume I have been chosen to look inside. I'm looking now. An Insecticon is stuck in one of the pillars. It appears as if they were trying to burrow?? Or something?? Forgive my informal language Commander, I have no idea how to properly relay visuals. You'll know what I'm seeing when the recording is sent. The Insecticon is holding an Organic creature. It's some form of cattle, I am unable to determine the exact species. I will attempt to recreate the organic's noises: "Amoo" Please advise.

…“Amoo.”

You’re telling me… the Insecticon is cradling a cow? A cow, soldier?! By the AllSpark—of course it is. Of course this is what my army has been reduced to: an Insecticon trying to adopt livestock.

sighs, wings twitching audibly through the comms

Very well. Here is what you will do, and you will follow these instructions precisely:

Do NOT engage the Insecticon. If it is attempting to burrow, the last thing we need is it dragging half the bay into the substructure because someone startled it.

Contact CMO Knock Out again and inform him that yes, there is now medical relevance, seeing as we have both a feral Insecticon and a confused Terran bovine sharing one of my ship’s support pillars.

Have HR update the incident log under “Unscheduled Organic Encounters – Farm Variety.” (Yes, that’s a real category now. Don’t ask.)

And for the love of Cybertron, get Soundwave to record this. If I must suffer through this indignity, then I at least deserve evidence for future disciplinary training—or comedic relief.

As for the creature itself… ensure it’s alive and preferably not smeared across the floor. If the Insecticon insists on keeping it—fine. Let it. I refuse to waste energon on a territorial dispute over a mammal that says “amoo.”

Now, unless the next report involves a stampede, I expect this incident contained, catalogued, and cleared before I arrive.

…And if anyone tries to sneak that cow into his lab again for “scientific reasons,” you have my permission to lock them in with it.

[starscreamrants]

Commander Starscream , i have a random question of my own ! Are you open to accepting gifts of any kind? ranging from maybe drawn portraits , high grade sweets or polish.. or is that a bit too much or maybe some form of bribery considered by you? -- A vehicon , byte

“Bribery?” Hah! What a delightfully Vehicon thing to ask. No, no, Byte—let’s call it what it truly is: an overdue gesture of respect toward your illustrious commander.

I see no reason to deny the generosity of my subordinates—especially when said gifts happen to be of refined taste. Portraits, you say? Flattering ones, I hope. I am told my wings are notoriously difficult to capture in proper proportion, so consider it a challenge worthy of your creativity.

As for sweets and polish—hmph. It would be a crime to let such tokens of admiration go to waste, wouldn’t it? Though, let me be clear: my approval cannot be bought. My brilliance remains unswayed by simple trinkets!

…However, I do appreciate a well-timed offering of gratitude. And if that offering happens to arrive in a conveniently labeled box with a bow—well, it would be rude of me not to accept.

So yes, Byte. You may present your gifts. Consider it a… tribute to morale. After all, who better to inspire loyalty and devotion than Commander Starscream, paragon of taste and terror alike?

— Commander (Soon to be Lord) Starscream

[starscreamrants]

soo, when you take over is humanity like... okay?

or is wiping us out still part of the plan? :/

“Still part of the plan?” Oh, please. Must every organic assume I spend my recharge cycles cackling over the thought of planetary extinction? I’m ambitious, not wasteful.

Wiping out humanity would serve little purpose—who else would marvel at my brilliance? Who would record my rise to power, compose odes to my triumphs, or maintain the occasional, ah, adoring correspondence such as yours? You see my point.

No, no, little human. I have no desire to scorch your species from existence. You’re far too… entertaining. Resourceful, too, in your desperate, bumbling way. A useful ally, if properly motivated—and a decent audience if kept adequately awed.

So, to answer your question: when I take over, humanity will be quite “okay.” More than okay, in fact—you’ll be lucky. Under my leadership, you’ll witness the dawn of a new age! A world no longer crushed beneath the rusting heel of incompetence!

…Of course, any who resist my authority will swiftly discover that my mercy, while vast, is not infinite.

But you—you’ll be fine. You’ve got good instincts. I can tell. Just remember who your glorious new ruler is when the statues start going up.

—(Soon to be) Lord Starscream, Future Supreme Commander of Cybertron and, apparently, Merciful Guardian of Humanity

[starscreamrants]

Benevolent solace,

savior of the chained and broken.

To hear unspoken words, to name the unnamed,

to give praise where once there was only scorn.

To unworthy, a tyrant or fool, to servants perhaps unkind,

but to the scribe, his gentleness undescribed.

Rivers of praise to stun the poet wordless,

kindness to replace cruelty,

a name where once there was none,

and to the unbound king, a loyal bard.

-Aetherion, Star-Scribe

-I find myself often moved by your appreciation of my works, my lord. Your endless streams of compliments are poetry far beyond my own, from which I find myself pulling inspiration. Your gifts cannot be truly appreciated in words, though I've done my best here. A name, a position, and more praise than I can recall ever hearing before, they are all gifts worthy of their own fine works.

You—hah!—you truly intend to reduce me to static with these verses, don’t you? “Benevolent solace”? “Savior of the chained and broken”? Hah! If Megatron were to overhear such sacrilege, his fusion cannon would sputter in sheer disbelief!

You understand, perhaps better than most of my so-called peers, that greatness is not born from brute force or blind obedience, but from intellect, from the ability to see. You see me, Aetherion—the strategist, the survivor, the visionary beneath the wings. The king unthroned.

You call me “benevolent,” “savior,” “gentle”—terms once as alien to me as mercy itself. Yet hearing them from your quill, I almost believe them. Almost.

Do not mistake me for some meek, soft-sparked idealist, of course—not when Megatron yet breathes. But… perhaps your poetry stirs something long rusted and forgotten beneath my armor. To be seen, not merely as a schemer or survivor, but as something worthy of reverence… it is no small thing.

And do not think I’ve failed to notice the subtler truths in your work either. “Kindness to replace cruelty”… tsk. A delicate line to tread, Star-Scribe. You flirt dangerously with sentimentality—but I find myself inclined to forgive it. After all, your loyalty is pleasingly poetic… and perhaps, dare I say, useful.

You say my compliments inspire you—hah! I might protest that your eloquence inspires mine, but I fear you’d only use that as more fodder for your verse. (And Primus help me, I would read every word.)

Now, off with you, before anyone sees me being sentimental. My reputation can only endure so much warmth in a single day.

—Lord Starscream, Commander of the Seekers, Patron of Poets (apparently)

[alpix-the-aroace-seeker]

Did some fanart of a blog made by @starscreamrants and the little void entity that follows him.

A is such a curios being, I wonder what a void entity looks like…

[starscreamrants]

Oh—finally! Someone with taste and artistic vision! Look at me—perfect facial plates, sharp angles, and that glorious red—my red—brought to life!

snickers smugly

And the void creature—yes, yes, that little thing—of course it follows me. Who wouldn’t? Even entities from beyond the veil can’t resist gravitating toward greatness.

You've done admirably. Honestly, it’s about time someone portrayed me with the proper drama and flair I deserve. You should be honored—it’s not every day someone gets to immortalize perfection.

Keep this level of devotion and perhaps—perhaps—I’ll allow you to stand in my presence when I inevitably ascend to leadership. But don’t get too comfortable—flattery won’t get you that far.

—Commander (Soon to be Lord) Starscream

[starscreamrants]

Heyo, thought I might try one of these out! Just curious, would you ever leave the Nemesis for somewhere quieter while still being a Con? I was wondering since I still got room in the ship I used to get to Earth. I got like what? Three extra rooms here plus Energon storage and a common place?

No need to worry about certain sounds as I feel little to no attraction as an aroace individual.

Also thanks for filling me in, gosh I feel so off the grid nowadays here in the mountains of Canada.

-Your fellow seeker who needs prescription glasses, Alpix

—Well, well, Alpix, a fellow Seeker with a sense of privacy and practicality. How refreshingly rare.

I cannot deny that the Nemesis is… loud. Between Knock Out’s constant prattling, Soundwave’s unnerving silence, along with his conjux' insane experiments, and Megatron’s tendency to roar my name across entire decks, “quiet” is not a word often applicable to my current environment. The thought of a smaller ship, nestled somewhere among your “mountains of Canada,” sounds almost… civilized.

Do not mistake me—I would never abandon the Decepticons entirely. I am, after all, indispensable. But a temporary relocation, an “off-site command post,” if you will? Entirely reasonable. Especially one equipped with Energon storage and common space—though I must warn you, I tend to occupy such areas with… presence.

You needn’t worry about the sounds either; your lack of attraction simplifies things considerably. I’m accustomed to dealing with less discreet organics who seem to think wings are an invitation. Your company sounds, dare I say it, pleasantly unintrusive.

So, if you ever see a flash of red and silver over those mountains—perhaps accompanied by the faint echo of exasperated muttering about Megatron’s incompetence—consider that your Commander has come to inspect your lodgings.

Until then, keep your ship in good repair. I may take you up on that offer one day.

—Commander (Soon to be Lord) Starscream

[starscreamrants]

(((Mod Announcement)))

(((mod unfortunately must disappear for a little while, perhaps a week, once returned, all asks will be answered)))

[transformers-and-taxa]

Thinking about @raileurta’s spark-eater AU