Main blog: alice-grimm-art
Transformers specific side blog, i write OC and ship fics!
I do not, have not, and never will use GenAI to create. If you do? DNI!
Ths is my Transformer's side blog for AU fiction!
My main blog is @alice-grimm-art!
I occasionally reblog TF stuff here and there.
But! Here I'll be posting all my Transformer's Fanfiction, and fanart here! Including my Self-insert TF AU. This blog is self-indulgent and a way for me to work on my writing skill! But feel free to ask stuff and interact, I don't mind. In fact I encourage it!
đ«Disclaimerđ«: This blog is 18+ and minors who interact will be blocked without exception.
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Currently rewriting! Embers of a Starlit Flame: AO3,
my Starscream x OC (which is also on AO3, although it may be a bit behind.) Including a prequel I am starting, i often edit my fics sorry!!
I'll be posting chapters of my fanfic semi-regularly!
And any fanart I draw for his AU, or maybe any other Transformers stuff.
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Embers of a Starlit Flame (My Starscream x OC AU here on Tumblr):
I found your stuff recently and read through everything and I have to say I love your writing SO MUCH. You are amazing and talented and I appreciate how you write so much. Would you be up for writing more Starscream, anything at all. I just looove how you write him!
Sure! That stupid pumpkin is still bothering me- Iâve never seen the endermen steal anything but dirt beforeâŠ
Soft Pt 6
Starscream x Reader
âą Using a servo to tip your chin up, he studies your alien features. But really, youâre not all that different. Itâs actually a little uncanny how similar you are to a Cybertronian in form. How many wildly different organic species have they encountered over the millennia? None have been as close in appearance as your kind. Or if the rumors are to be believed, as compatible. Why can he feel your field? Had always assumed organics just didnât have them, except you do. Itâs weak and he can only sense it by touching you, but itâs there. And youâre not bothering to hide anything from him. How can you trust so completely? Canât imagine willingly sharing his field with anyone. Being that vulnerable.
âą A servo brushes your bottom lip as he frowns down at you like youâre some puzzle he needs to figure out. Heart beating faster when he leans down, he stops with his lips a breath away from yours and for a moment thereâs something that might be disappointment as crazy as it is. Heâs just too close, that handsome face right there as those red optics search your expression and see far too much. You donât want him to kiss you, right? Donât want be his. âSir,â you murmur, trying to come up with a valid argument so good heâll understand why this canât work between you both. âWe shouldnât,â he growls, his optics drawing you in. Can almost see the inner workings moving behind the lens.
âą âIt would never work,â you whisper, chin lifting slightly. Can feel your warm breath on him, the sensation so strange. Those little hands splayed on his chassis arenât trying to push him away. âOf course,â he replies, servos of his other hand curling against your shoulder and gripping you. Venting to pull your now familiar scent deep, he tries to cling to all the reasons he shouldnât want this. Feels like losing a bit of himself to allow anyone so close. To care about anything but his own goals. Youâre a distraction. Knows that. âItâs obscene to want this,â he growls.
âą âYouâre not human and Iâm not Cybertronian,â you say, reminding yourself as much as him. Trying to remember that this is a bad idea when youâre curious about him. About whatever this is between you both. Not love. Not even infatuation, really. Just curiosity. But heâs talking about something permanent and youâre not sure if his people even do causal relationships. Maybe itâs all or nothing. âYouâre too alien,â he mutters and his head lowers. And you donât lean away as his mouth slides against yours in a barely there touch.
âą Youâre softer than heâd imagined as his mouth moves against yours. Those little hands clinging to him instead of pushing him away. So you must feel it, too. That hunger and need. Itâs wrong and he knows it, but he still canât stop. And you make a soft noise against his mouth that lets his glossa steal inside to tangle with your tongue. Tasting you as his plating heats. Growling when you break away suddenly, eyes avoiding his optics as he leans back in to nudge your head with his. âI donât have time for a conjunx,â he murmurs as his mouth covers yours again.
I feel really good about this one but yk i wrote it in like 45 minutes so idk.
Could be read as reader insert if you squint real hard.
MDNI! My blog is not for minors.ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âYou are too small.â With Dinobot standing parallel to her, she definitely feels small, in comparison at least. Though heâs not much wider than her, she barely reaches where his navel might be if he were human.
The sheer size of Cybertronians (or similar species) doesnât usually put her off, but the Maximals and Dinobot specifically are Earthlike enough due to their beast-type alt-modes for it to be a marvel most times. Especially when being cornered by one.
âAh.. Huh?â Alice cracks her neck and shakes herself from the momentary daze. With a voice like that, it's a wonder how I get anything done..
âSmaller than Rattrap.â He grunts, and to her she canât tell whether thatâs a gripe or not. Dinobot doesnât seem to have a tone difference, or maybe sheâs just not familiar enough with him yet.
Either way, she puts up a defensive.
âIs that a problem?â Eyebrows raised, she sizes him up in turn. Which puts a strain on her neck.
Heâs silent for a few moments, as if weighing his response. She wasnât aware the brute had thoughts⊠that he didnât immediately act upon anyway.
âNo. Rattrap is an adequate fighter,â The Dino-former leans down to her level slightly, with his optics squinted in scrutiny.
âAre you experienced in combat?â
âYes.â Sounding both like a question and a warning.
Like sheâs daring him to challenge her. Her hands perch on her hips with a quirk while her voice drips with snark. Sheâs fought far too long beside her Autobot friends, her wear and age both proof of it, and sheâs not about to take flack from this overgrown lizard man.
Dinobot doesnât take the bait, simply eyeing her up and down before a smirk teases his lips and she catches his fangs peeking out.
âGood. I look forward to seeing you prove that.â He gives her a curt nod before turning to stalk away. Her face reddens slightly when she realizes she is staring directly at his ass, just as a shrill voice startles her from behind. Oops.
âWow. Looks like you got an admirer. He even complimented you, nevaâ seen that happen so fast.â It's Rattrap, and if he caught her staring, he doesnât mention it. So sheâs left to wonder what kind of blackmail the rat is saving it for.
âWas that meant to be a compliment?â
âWell, He ainât underestimating you. From him? Thatâs praise enough. Took me a while, anyhow.â
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Fin. I don't even know how I would continue this lol
I feel really good about this one but yk i wrote it in like 45 minutes so idk.
Could be read as reader insert if you squint real hard.
MDNI! My blog is not for minors.ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âYou are too small.â With Dinobot standing parallel to her, she definitely feels small, in comparison at least. Though heâs not much wider than her, she barely reaches where his navel might be if he were human.
The sheer size of Cybertronians (or similar species) doesnât usually put her off, but the Maximals and Dinobot specifically are Earthlike enough due to their beast-type alt-modes for it to be a marvel most times. Especially when being cornered by one.
âAh.. Huh?â Alice cracks her neck and shakes herself from the momentary daze. With a voice like that, it's a wonder how I get anything done..
âSmaller than Rattrap.â He grunts, and to her she canât tell whether thatâs a gripe or not. Dinobot doesnât seem to have a tone difference, or maybe sheâs just not familiar enough with him yet.
Either way, she puts up a defensive.
âIs that a problem?â Eyebrows raised, she sizes him up in turn. Which puts a strain on her neck.
Heâs silent for a few moments, as if weighing his response. She wasnât aware the brute had thoughts⊠that he didnât immediately act upon anyway.
âNo. Rattrap is an adequate fighter,â The Dino-former leans down to her level slightly, with his optics squinted in scrutiny.
âAre you experienced in combat?â
âYes.â Sounding both like a question and a warning.
Like sheâs daring him to challenge her. Her hands perch on her hips with a quirk while her voice drips with snark. Sheâs fought far too long beside her Autobot friends, her wear and age both proof of it, and sheâs not about to take flack from this overgrown lizard man.
Dinobot doesnât take the bait, simply eyeing her up and down before a smirk teases his lips and she catches his fangs peeking out.
âGood. I look forward to seeing you prove that.â He gives her a curt nod before turning to stalk away. Her face reddens slightly when she realizes she is staring directly at his ass, just as a shrill voice startles her from behind. Oops.
âWow. Looks like you got an admirer. He even complimented you, nevaâ seen that happen so fast.â It's Rattrap, and if he caught her staring, he doesnât mention it. So sheâs left to wonder what kind of blackmail the rat is saving it for.
âWas that meant to be a compliment?â
âWell, He ainât underestimating you. From him? Thatâs praise enough. Took me a while, anyhow.â
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Fin. I don't even know how I would continue this lol
what if the word for transformers sex is fragging bc they call sleep 'defragging' (as in their processors defrag while they sleep) and so fragging became the word for fucking like how 'sleeping with' is a euphemism for sex
Two Ideas for Human EM Fields because I see writers go with "Humans Have Weak EM Fields" and nothing else.
1. Humans have Huge Uncontrolled EM Fields
Imagining the bots coming to Earth and being completely overwhelmed/over stimulated with emotion. These tiny little creatures feel so strongly that it can even sway the emotions of a bot if there is a group .
Imagining a Jazz in a flash mob, overwhelmed by the pure joy, fun, and excitement people feel together and getting the urge to bounce and dance.
Or Maybe Knockout at a drive in theater- the movie might be ass but it's less the content of the film for him, but the feelings that come with it. Swooning at the strong feelings of love, dampered by the feeling of dismay- nothing's made him feel this strongly in a long time.
Lastly, at the Lost Light. Imagine the bots feeling your pissed off aura and being surprised when the tiny little you bounds the corner. Unnerving a few when you smile and joke even when they can feel the heat of your anger.
2. Humans have EM Fields, but they can only be felt with touch.
Imagine catching the interest of Shockwave, who stumbles when he first laid servo on you. For the first time in forever, he could feel a strong emotion. Nothing like the dull, mudded feelings he usually has- but pure joy, fear, anger. Shockwave becoming obsessed with the high of the emotion and following you like a lost dog, holding your hand to feel your daily round of emotions.
Imagining a touchier bot like Rodimus or Swerve who fall for a human as they can feel the love though a small graze against the shoulder.
Rodimus who scoops you up in a hug because he loves feeling the whirlwind of shock, confusion, and giddy joy you go through when you recognize him.
Swerve who seeks your touch after a bad day, leaning his head against yours as he feels your quiet solace that washes over you because you feel safe around him, because you love and trust him so dearly.
I literally just saw a post above this one being all angtsy about EM and how we'd feel so weak XD
I never really thought about it cuz I don't go very heavy into EM in my fic but I love everyone's HCs about it.
For one I don't like the idea that humans are so distant when it comes to EM. We are also kinda made from electricity. Probably not nearly as much as them, but I'd think it could be more on a minibot's level. Small, but there.
And since most humans probably can't control their own Electromagnetic frequencies, it could be seen like someone who wears their emotions openly. But yeah touching would probably make the signals stronger! And perhaps it would make us terrible liars haha
I think also, if it's a human/transformer relationship, their bot would be finer tuned to theirs and could gauge emotional levels at farther distances and they'd be more distinct.
A prequel to Echoes of a Starlit Flame| Starscream x OC AU fic
âIt was supposed to be an easy scouting missionâ, sheâd thought.
âSome dusty old ruins with alien tech, suitable for my skills. Cataloging, take readings, interpreting⊠Nothing Decepticons should be interested in, and yetâŠâ
Dragged into a skirmish, but not like when she was younger, when her titanic friends would always shoved Alice behind cover, whispers of keeping her head down. Not getting caught. Now she stands beside them, and equal in strength despite her size, trained by the Autobotâs combat force.
But not exactly a soldier. Borderline pacifist, but the rush of freedom in mana use is always tempting.
Fighting alongside her friendly titans against not-so friendly ones, while her heart races, thudding against her chest like a battering ramâ still so careful in each shard piercing living metal, minor injuries, throwing them off balance or otherwise incapacitating them. The thoughts of missing a shot hurting a friend twist in her head like a maggot with each maneuver.
'What if I really hurt someone?' âWhat if I hit Arcee?â
âWhat if I hit Bumblebee?â âCliffjumper? âHound?â
âOptimus?â âWhat if I kill someone?â Veins thrumming with mana when she dodges a laser shot, fighting in her own head alongside such physical dangers. Is she insane??
Freezing a pede in place and ducking under whoever had nearly stomped her, her momentary anxiety subsiding to lock into her focus. Dirt splattering against her nice slacks... should've picked something else to wear.
What would she even wear in this circumstance? It's not like she's a soldier. But the advantage of being a quick, small thing compared to the bots who wouldn't usually look down was too tempting. Any advantage she could give her friends was worth it.
In the midst of her footwork, sliding carefully under lumbering frames like an ice skater. With the flick of her wrist: target the feet.
And the soft rain would become sharper than diamonds, and cold enough to lock mechanical joints.
Feeling the gravel scrape the soles of her boots in protest when from jumping off a safe little ice road, gazing to the chilled sky full of softly twisting clouds against a pinkening blue sky, and catching a glimpse of himâ
No, more than a glimpse of him.
Starscream. Hard to miss him, she could hear his turbines screech above her and a nasally, static laced voice pierces through the clamoring of lasers and metal bodies; voice loud enough to rival his own thrusters. Ears ringing yet still hearing the repeating telltale chatter of his transformation.
Eyes locked softly onto sleek plating, the sun glinting off battle worn wings with a gleaming Deception symbol on each.
The only place Alice had ever seen Seekers, or rather, read of them in old data logs, or heard details from biased word-of-mouth stories via comrades. Even wrote boring, half-informed papers on their legacy. Flight frames are scarce now; having none in the Autobotâs alliance altogether. Itâs like witnessing a living relic, finally up close, and feeling the overwhelming instinct that sheâs staring into the maw of an apex predator, that she might catch his eye and be lunch.
His engines seemed to get loud with his cruel cackling while toying with her friends, and even his own team. Watching a bit in awe each time heâd switch fluidly from robot to airborne weapon on sleek, well-kept wings. She can see each tactical benefit of his flight frame as he displays them, aerial combat being a deadly kind of dance.Sharp aimed ,and knocking her friends off balance, even landing horribly good shots on them that make her gut squirm in guilt from awing at him. Catching the vicious smirk that twists his strangely handsome face as he shoots another Decepticon in the back âaccidentlyâ.
His voice is sharp, sneering, and dripping with ego, with an overzealous confidence and superiority, he displays that boastful attitude with sleek wings puffed up like a victor behind him. Aliceâs gaze drifts bashfully downward where his strong hands meet quirked hips, his waist is downright sinful. Her mind paints each sharp curve in his gunmetal gray knuckles onto the canvas of her brainâ
aaaandd she can feel steam around her ears. Cupping her face in her own chilled hands like some crushing schoolgirl and averting her gaze, until her heat recedes.
Bragging, goading. A cruel smile stretching his faceplate betrays his delight and vanity in his combat form, and his own small victories. She could feel the unwanted upward curl of her lips hearing his laugh. Beautiful, in the same way a hurricane is hauntingly beautiful; keeping her distance is paramount.
And she had been, until a looming shadow overtook her from the side.
Alice barely catches the blur of his frame in her peripheral; ears perked from the crunching of gravel under his pedes. Like a static chill clawing up her spine with the ancestral fear response. Turning to lock eyes with the opposing Air Commander towering above her. Too close, and far quieter than heâs ever been.
âAh beans, caught. Cornered, like a mouseâŠâ
His aim is good, great even. Yet heâs stilled, sharp distrustful optics leering over her, hazardous, yet⊠curiosity fills his gaze and not malice.
Arms barely outstretched, servos reaching from their place at his side, instead of his ray-gun. The battle around them seems to fall away, buzzing with that feeling you get from meeting a stranger in a new place; as if they are simply two alien scientists surveying each other.
LikeâŠlike sheâd been doing, small glimpses of him to fuel curiosity. Totally not just checking him out. Gods she hopes he didnât catch her ogling him.
His optics scrutinize her, as if almost offended she refused to cower, easily holding her ground under Starscreamâs gaze. Helm tilting a mite to each side as he does, she wonders how long heâd been watching before sheâd noticed.
Itâs a matter of seconds when his eyes refocus and the barrel of his shoulder mounted null ray meets her face. She shouldâve died in that moment, but there was a dull hesitation nearly unnoticeable due to Cliffjumperâs body slamming into his side.
Her 'knight' in bright red plating and horns charges headfirst into his side knocking Starscream off balance and scrambling for freedom, before Cliffjumper forces him into close quarters combat. Screeching an ear splitting âGet off me, filthy slagger!â; Along with the sound of living metal banging against each other in a small squabble as the redhead scrambles out of sight and back towards safety.
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That human thing, whatever she was, stayed on his mind like a glitch once he returned to the Nemesis, and his quarters to reflect. If âreflectingâ means trashing the place, and then begrudgingly re-organizing his pitifully barren habsuite.
The chill of his Hab leaving his overhot frame steaming, each exvent fogging in front of his exhausted optics.
Behind him on the berth, his wings flit in residual agitation, strut panels still aching from being slammed against the ground and tossed about, for his mouth, by his face, due to his glorious Leaderâs misplaced disappointment from another loss of Energon deposits. The bruteâs own idea, for once the mistake wasnât Starscreamâs doing, but that never stopped Megatron from taking it out on him. Like an itch that each disappointment cause, yet he could never scratch.
Starscreamâs dermas twist in a near permanent scowl-pout as he scrolls through a datapad, sharpened denta pinching the inner mesh of dermal plating. Thinking about the creature that made light out of nothing; water and cold as if pulling from an infinite source. Or some hidden subspace. Preposterous. He should be focusing his latest plan, setback after setback from Soundwaveâs meddling and Megatronâs keen eyes keep him from⊠well, leaving.
Doing a few minor calculations in his processor to sum up the amount of Energon he has stored away in his secret abandoned air base that heâs been seeking solace in away from his duties for cycles now. Yet, his mind drifts again. How disappointing that the Autobots keep such a fascinating creature hidden in their walls, and he had no idea. However, a plan such as his processor is imposing would take far too many resources and would risk Human government intervention.
Since Flatline and Barricade both went missing, heâs buzzed around the air waves for intel, only to hear more cases of âhuman abductionâ even with the Autobots. âPoor Trailblazerâ.
Wonders if he died.
And as gleeful the thought of his enemies being dissected by organics is, the minute chance that he could be captures as well, is enough to curb any further curiosity he has for Earthlings. The static urge to squish one under his pedes rises with every new dataset of them.
Even still, the crystalline blue of her optics passes over his processor like a ghost, wide and prey-like. Looking into him, and knowing.
And like every human, she is far too Cybertronian-looking, almost uncanny, and when his field brushed over her in curiosity, for the briefest of moments and could feel something reach back.
Brittle, weak⊠a soft, pale thing with speckling marks across her nose, obscured by her vision apparatus, âglassesâ? Delicate hands, a hallmark of a noncombatant, and formal attire of all things, abnormal to the last few whelps Starscream had seen with the Autobots over the cycles, and fiery red hair rivaling his paintjob (although dull and in need of repairs) puffing about her head in spirals and framing her face.
She looked more like a scholar than a soldier, older than the Autobots last organic invasion; just how long had the Autobots kept her from his knowledge? Him?
Did Soundwave know? He was suspiciously absent to witness todayâs failed mission.
âDoomed missionâ is a more appropriate term, if only Megatron would have listened to his advice, his worries. Starscream is supposedly his Second in Command. The title stings him more like twisted barbwire in his plating. Suffocating. Servos clawing at him from between cracked ranks of a once strong army, whispers of betrayal behind his back like an ever-present dagger at his neck cables. The very same as he does to his own Commander, a bitter grin stretches his faceplate at the irony of it all.
Why did he hesitate? Sheâs simply another Terran pest thwarting their efforts. One anomalous, puny⊠delicate thing that he nearly splattered against the dusty ground cover, that had otherwise dodged his comrades attacks. Though, their aim is never as sharp as his.
Optics heavy, a sigh falls from the seeker as exhaustion and achy struts catch up with his processor, and he twists to lean back against his berth, letting the datapad to clatter to the floor. Starscream curls in on his side, wings folded tightly, as he allows a short recharge to cradle him.
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The base is quiet during the nights. Pale feet patter across the cold stone of the Autobot command base, as Alice paces the residential halls again. Focused solely of every mistake she made during that battle, every misstep that couldâve resulted in hurting someone or herself.
For one? She wasnât supposed to be there today. Fighting. Optimus gave her a solemn look when she stepped back through the bridge that afternoon, knows she shouldâve be laying low. Â
And secondly? Being reckless enough that one of the most dangerous Decepticons here on Earth got so close she could almost taste null energy, with how far his gun was metaphorically lodged in her throat.
Still⊠getting an up close look at that face, his scarlet eyes burning into her mind, that was exhilarating.
She may decide to sketch it later, the shape of his chin, his broad flat nose⊠That glimpse of her theory, of âwing-languageâ on display in Cybertronians was enough to fuel her studies for a while, right in thinking due to similarities in behaviors like Earth creatures depending on frame-type meant that seeker might portray bird-like body language.
Well, kinda⊠a few quirks of his wings as his emotions shifted isnât exactly essay worthy. If only sheâd gotten the chance to watch the other couple fliers on the field today. Though one encounter with a deadly force was more than enough to knock another 50 years off her life.
Her thoughts are halted by the soft thumping of weary pedes, the foot fall of Big Blue. While Optimus is no ninja, he can be scarily quiet when he wants to be. The brilliant blue of his optics stain her form, looks like he knew sheâs pacing.
âYou should be resting.â his voice isnât chastising, but it aches with exhaustion. She meets his aged optics in knowing.
âI could say the same, big guy.â Her brow quirks with a half-hearted tease, canât blame him though. A deep sigh above her brushes her hair into her face, tickling her nose. The titan offers a hand for her to climb onto, and sheâs perched onto his shoulders as he retreats to the main hub.
âI was expecting a lecture from you too, you know..?â Alice starts, cautiously.
âI am disappointed that you ignore orders, that you engaged the enemy,â cutting himself off with a harsh sigh, âbut, you werenât harmed. You did well and withdrew when you were seen by Starscream.â
Alice doesnât now whether to feel pride from him words, or if this is his equivalent to saying sheâs grounded. The jostling she feels from his walkcycle ceases, and she can see the reflection of his optics from Telatraanâs big screen. She brings her voice to a meek hush.
âWorrying about TB? Still nothing?â
Optimus rumbles in response, servos pinching his nose bridge like a worried dad.
âEvery lead, every trace, nothing but dead-ends,â flicking on one of the smaller holoscreens as if to punctuate his frustration, the glow of the device makes him look even older, more exhausted. As if Alice is getting a peak behind the Autobot leaderâs mask.
âWell⊠If it were the âCons, wouldnât they have announced it by now? I hate to think it could be..â
âIt doesnât matter who took Trailblazer, we will find him.â Determined, unyielding. But it sounds more like heâs trying to convince himself, not her. Yet, he relaxes in her presence. So Alice quiets down to let him work.
Staying right there with him, for who knows how long as he sorted through reports, and images, and other documentation until her eyes grow heavy.
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In the aftermath, dusty winds whistle underneath a pitch black sky; the quiet sound of nighttime wilds harmonize in the underbrush. Evidence of battle obscured by darkness is swallowed by the passing of time. But a hint of a glow sweeps over the scars on the landscape, catching scents on the wind.
A figure, tall and gnarled like an ancient tree, looms over the metal scuffed battlefield- long since abandoned. Tendrils of magic-scent spatter the gravel and fill her nose with the familiar presence when leaning to the ground.
âRecent. Hours fresh. Strong as well.â Voice like a specter, another responds from the dark behind her. The wind cools the dusty rocks beneath the twisted legs of the pair.
âJust one? It reeks of cyberfleshed. Are they hiding them?â Gruff, and strict; imposing like a gladiator behind the willowier oneâs form.
âQuite.â
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Trying my best to get this all written in a coherent way, working through character's personalities , etc. But this is fun! I love coming up with lore, working with pre-established stuff and OCs hehe
If you read, TYSM and leave a comment plzzzz I love a good discussion.
Starscream has been around a very long time in the perspective of humans or other organic species. Heâs not exactly old, but war ages even the youngest of mechs, and he certainly isnât that either.
By the present, he is willing to do whatever is necessary to survive, has done everything. His reputation of violence, backstabbing and power grabbing came solely from necessity. Of course.. being around similar mechs, ones willing to do anything to survive, to stay relevant.. that can warp neutrality, even the most noble of intentions. Being the most dangerous Seeker, the conniving Second-in-Command was something he wasnât willing to let go of easily. Wasnât always like this, at one point the thought of killing, of destruction was the very last thing heâd plan for.
The Decepticons originally started as a protest against the elite treating the lowest rung like crap, a way for even the least useful bot to fight against being killed in the gutters, melted down and reforged. Heâd been within politics when heâd signed on, after losing Skyfire on his last trip off world, coming home to Vos even further gripped by Functionists, being forced back into training⊠because Seekers are not scientists. Theyâre soldiers.
And when heâd graduated with top marks, becoming deadly out of necessity? That got him attention, something he hadnât vied for before. Who could blame him for pursuing it when heâd kept getting rewarded for being flashy. Seekers were considered quite a desirable commodity before the war. It was pretty easy to climb up the ranks with such a silver tongue. Somewhere along the way heâd masked himself in ego and volume, because letting anyone know they can hurt him was absolutely off the table.
Eventually he drew a certain Revolutionaryâs eye, and heâd signed on when promised to finally be acknowledged as an equal, to stick it to the Functionists whoâd been thorns under his plating. Part of it being a tactical decision, the former gladiator was inspiring and dangerous. This had been before the two leaders had fallen apart. And when Starscreamâs plans, his advice, had mattered to the young Megatron. He isnât sure exactly when his advice became manipulation, when his plans turned from beneficial to the cause, to beneficial only to himself.
But now? Known as treacherous and power-grabbing because heâs tried everything else. He knows that his leader keeps him so close solely because of his treachery, to always keep him under thumb; anything else and he would easily fade back into the hundreds of troops. And no one else would advocate for his kin. Thundercracker lacks the conviction to be in his place and Skywarp⊠is an idiot. Maybe others. Slipstream is relevant enough, but it would be like replacing him with a lesser copy.
Either way, heâs learned by now itâs advantageous to have all attention focused his way, whether good or bad. Yet every cycle he could have finally outlived his usefulness, every day could be the day Megatron tires of whatever gratification beating the scrap out of Starscream gives him.
I maaay have went overboard on this OC..
What do ya'll thin should she be my main? I could switch my pfp!!
She's actually another Transformers oc, just.. an alien lmao I tried my best to make energy discs, oh well
Her name is Alys (yes very creative haha), she's full alien, and about the size of a mini-bot in my head like.... 10ish ft? Still very small compared to any lucky bot I decide to pair her with (Originally Dinobot and Starscream in an AU I came up with based on Netflix WFC)
A.N.: Kinda working alongside the canon, but.... don't expect canon shenanigans ê (ÂŽâïœ)ʱÂȘʱÂȘʱÂȘ It's bad, but I'm happy with it!! Soundwave and Lazerbeak inspired a bit by @delicateartisantrash (a.k.a Asharion)'s versions from the "The Butterfly Effect" series on Ao3, cuz i love them. Agatha's Appearance: Link
It was a strangely lucky chance that Agatha was the one to find her and not the Autobots.
Looking for one of the kids just after a Decepticon scuffle with her Autobot friends. Run off by one of the âCon scouts, making everyone worried sick. Separated from the group in search of her student.
She was distracted, though, by a shrill, warbling that caught her ear and she swerved her feet to find the source. It sounded panicked. That was nearly an hour ago, and she all too aware that it could be a trap. But the little frightened beeping was making her heart ache.
Finding the little, well âlittleâ isnât quite the word as the drone-looking bot buried and injured by the rubble in front of her is still much larger than her. âBig enough to whisk her off screaming if this is a trap,â her caution screams at her. But the battery smell of smeared Energon is enough to have her approaching.
The bot seems to hiss at her approach and she raises her hands in defense, not knowing if it can even see her. She does assume that teeny screen at the front is itâs⊠his?...her? their⊠face.
âHey there... itâs okay, Iâm not going to âurt you, little one.â Soft, and pitched higher to sweeten her voice, she approaches the wiggling bot, carefully. Wait, she knows this fellow⊠The little drone thing that Soundwave carries around. âScaryâŠâ
Their panic noises continue, and she wonders if itâs trying to call itâs owner, which has her shivering. That doesnât stop her trembling hands from yanking large, heavy rubble pieces off the drone, huffing at the weight. Likely a bloody terrible idea, but itâs distress is something she canât ignore. Goes against everything sheâs ever known, and maybe sheâs just gone soft. Slender hands brush against the slightly unearth metal of the creatureâs body, getting scraped a little by its pincers as it struggles. It seems to calm the more time that passes.
She hopes that means it knows sheâs trying to help, even if itâs still chirping in distress. Hands unflinching, even as sheâs scraped by sharper debris, a gentle hum echoing in her throat as if a lullaby for her baby sister. She doesnât notice when specifically the drone quiets down, quietly observing instead of panicking. Thatâs⊠something, then.
âWonder where she is nowâŠâ Aggie persists, despite the solemn ach in her guts, until the beepy-bot is free. Thankfully, the scrapes were tiny, Energon just smeared against its plating during its freak-out. Once rescued the bot wastes no time getting up and shaking itself free of debris. The drone quietly regards her for a moment, tilting itâs screen at her like a cat. Then wobbles into the air, its soft jet sounds stuttering, and flies quickly up and away from her.
Her gut drops in guilt, did she just make a huge mistake? Pausing before returning to the group, she decides not to tell anyone.
âââ§ââââŹââââ§ââ
Soundwave was already on the move to find his symbiote, hearing her distress and wearing out his processor with worry for her safety. Imposing dark chrome pedes crunch the dirt and flora while he scans the brush and calls out with worried pings, agitation apparent to any that know him, or know of him. A vent of relief cools his systems when the minibotâs signal rapidly reaches his location. Crookedly hovering in front of him and tittering about the interaction sheâd just had while docking his chassis.
His processor rifles through the video feed with a warmth of relief in his spark, safely returned to her carrierâs embrace. Sheâd been far to close to the enemy while prone.
Receiving the visual feed through their link: A familiar face, organic, with an almost Cybertronian face as all humans have. The âadultâ of the Autobotâs charges, security feed has caught her with those human children before, has her tagged as Autobot sympathizer in his databanks. Soundwave makes a note of the encounter, before transforming and racing back to his post on the nemesis with his symbiote tucked safely with him.
The head of security finds no benefit to tell his commander, if only as an unintentional gratitude for the fragile femme who helped Lazerbeak. Moreso when confirming her system hadnât been tampered with.
 âââ§ââââŹââââ§ââ
Aggie was prepared for the tongue lashing sheâd get from Ratchet the moment she appeared back through the ground bridge with Arcee, who had most definitely already told him sheâd lagged behind.
âAnd where have you been? You were supposed be helping find Miko, not getting lost yourself!â
As if she were also a child, and not the kidsâ art history teacher. She shrugs at him, ignoring the piercing gaze that she knows hides worry.
âI was, though? Both, I mean. Sorry dear.â Not exactly comfortable lying about the latter, but she wasnât about to tell the biggest worrywart this side of the universe that sheâd rescued an enemy bot from a pile of rubble. She knows Optimus would agree with her choice, albeit with that âit was a bad decisionâ tone of voice, but it would still just cause a fight amongst the crew. And an 'insightful' lecture from the Boss-bot, as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman with a bachelorâs.
The medic-bot scoffs and grumbles something out of earshot while returning to fuss over Mikoâs scrapped leg.
"Right, if weâre quite finished âere? I âave papers to mark." The medic waves her off. Big Blue nods, all calm and bloody serene, as usual. Beeâs chattering buzzes rip her attention, before Raf graciously translates:
âHe said heâll take you home.â And her mouth opens for just a moment, intending to argue that they should also go home, But.. itâs still light out, so she quietly agrees.
âââ§ââââŹââââ§ââ
Lazerbeakâs digital chitters echo lightly against walls and alleys as she zips around the little human town she knows her organic âsaviorâ frequents. Her carrier was easily persuaded into thanking the squishy femme for real, but the Lazerbeak had to find her first. The fact that the Autobots and their tiny human charges live in the same town is as of yet unknown to her and Soundwave, but sheâs not surprised when a familiar annoying yellow grounder drops off the very human sheâs searching for. They have similar ground bridge technology, after all.
Lazerbeak perches quietly nearby and waits for a chance. Bumblebee drives off quickly, leaving the femme to walk up to, what the bot can assume to be, her home. Leaping from the building, both physically and emotionally, at her chance.
Agatha fumbles for her keys, cursing the broken lamp post under her breath and its unhelpful dim, flickering light. Heart tattering, nearly jumping from her chest at the familiar trill that echoes from somewhere behind her. âBeepy bot?â It shouldnât be here; itâs probably a trap. Blasted thing⊠she shouldâve known better.
Flickering transitions to racing while she fumbles a bit faster. But the trilling begins to sound⊠sad. Sucking in a breath before groaning quietly and dropping her hand, keys stuffed into her pocket. Her loafers patter against the sidewalk while she shuffles to the edge, unable to discern where exactly the sounds were coming from.
âBeepy-bot? Where are you..?â Trying to hide her panic in the gentle whisper-yell, before jogging towards the response sheâs given. Itâs beeps sounding more happy than sad now, why is she able to tell? Feeling more and more like this is gonna be a trap, especially when the noise leads her behind a building where thereâs little light and no possible way to be seen.
âThis is how kidnapping stories begin, what the bloody hell am I doingâŠ?!â Whisper-yelling at herself as she round the corner.
The teenier bot sit perched on a car, quirking its head at her. Agatha points her feet as she walks slowly towards it, but the beepy-bot doesnât move. Just sits and watches her.
âUh⊠Hi.â A quick breath out as she makes it pretty close to the drone without issue. But a sound behind her has her blood freezing with her body, heart stuttering with the dread that she was right.
Turning to look behind her with glassy deer-in-the-headlights eyes, she catches the imposing Decepticon just as he finishes transforming from whatever vehicle she wasnât cautious enough to see. Aggieâs hands ball into fists at her sides seeing what sheâs been told is one of the most dangerous âcons she could ever encounter, every instinct in her whole ancestral line screams to run, to escape.
Jumping out of her skin when the faceless security officer kneels right in front of her, caging her between himself and the car Beepy-bot is still silently perched on.
ââŠSoundwave: expresses gratitude.â The deep, electronic text-to-speech sounding words are an experience on their own, not including how he managed to be whispering and still the loudest thing alive. Eyes widening and head jerking up from the cowering sheâd just been doing to look straight up at the sleek black screen that makes up the most imposing form sheâs ever seen. Sleek and angular yet strangely jacked, and thatâs her face going red and her thoughts bluescreening. Purple biolights that seem to shift color like a lava lamp, she might be exaggerating, mesmerizing and terrifying.
Happy little beeps call from behind her as if echoing itâs ownerâs sentiment, and Aggieâs head whips back and then back to Soundwaveâs screen-face. Blank-faced for a moment before realizing⊠sheâs being thanked for saving Soundwaveâs little beepy-bot.
âN-no.. problem. I couldnât ju-ust leave Beepy like thatâŠâ Her voice grates uncomfortably against her throat from her nerves.
âSymbiote designation: Lazerbeak.â His voice rumbles the ground beneath her, but⊠it doesnât sound offended. Okay⊠maybe a little offended? But his gestures implied that heâs just introducing them.
Turning slightly towards the drone, âItâs⊠nice to meet you, Lazerbeak,â Still keeping the âCon in her peripheral, and sheâs met with the shadow of happy wiggles that remind her of an old friendâs pet cockatoo, and what sounds like electronic purring. But Agatha is again startled by what might be her new captor when the tip of one of his spindly fingers brushes against her arm.
âQuery: Designation?â Freezing in her spot with head wobbling, a confused âhuh?â falls from her lips before she can stop it.
ââŠRequest, clarified: What is your name?â He doesnât know her name? Although they were all trying to lay low, sheâd considered that Soundwave somehow already knew everything based on the way her Autobot friends described him.
âAhâ A-Aggie, er... Agatha. Pleased tâ meet you.â Lazerbeak repeats the name to Soundwave in her little noises and projecting her thoughts, not hiding her excitement.
::Can we keep the squishy? Pleeeease..?::
:Negativeâ::
::Please??????::
::Cease.::
Venting at the droneâs internal (and now external) tantruming at his refusal while recording the redheadâs visual appearance, name, and filing them into his databanks; Soundwave rises to his pedes and beckons his symbiote to dock again. Tipping his helm down towards the tiny organic in a silent farewell, a tendril arm reaches down to ruffle her hair, and Lazerbeak offering a much louder one in the form of trills not even attempting to hide her own joy. And then they depart.
Inbox Nuke. So you may close and do another inbox wipe should you so choose. No request or anything.
đ€Ł at this point, itâs morbid curiosity to see how bad it can get. I wish the inbox had a search feature, because it would definitely make my life easier. đ đ¶ïž
Cybertronian Relationship/Intimacy Headcanons
Let those Cybertronians make noises, delve into details and sensations, into the fact that theyâre not human. They act human enough, their expressions so like our own, that they lull you into feeling comfortable and itâs easy to forget. The first time they growl when youâre touching them and itâs a vocalization underlaid with the rev of their engine. Hearing them rumbling with the soft click of their fan cycling on. Trying to climb in their lap and digging a knee into mesh inside a seam, both of you startling at the unexpected blare of their horn. A seeker getting too warm during and their turbines kicking on with a whine, if you have longer hair you look like a very small, benign tornado got you afterward.
The first time Ratchet, Red Alert, or Prowl get head, their lights and sirens go off. Theyâre mortified and youâre laughing too hard to keep going. The bots getting too warm during sex. Having to stop in the middle to hit the washracks and cool off because theyâre not burning you, but your skin is flushed red from the contact and itâs uncomfortable. Trying to get some space from your bot after sex because theyâre too hot and youâre sweating only to get dragged back into them because they want to cuddle. Itâs like getting spooned by a space heater.
Pressure lines on your skin from the edges and seams of their plating when you lay on them. So many bruises on your hips and thighs. The ambient thrum of their spark sinking into you, getting so used to it that you canât sleep without it. The random revs, whirs, and clicks of noise their internal systems make all the time becoming white noise after a while. The heat and breathless, electricity of their spark when you run your fingers through it. Feeling it pull at you, teasing yourself and them with every touch, bombarded with bits of them, emotions and memories sinking into you in little prickles until you want to drown yourself in it. In them. Wanting to lose yourself to them completely and feel them cradling you in warmth knowing youâre safe. Addicted to that sensation of being seen and accepted.
When they slip up and start murmuring sweet nothings in their own language. Confessing the things theyâre too nervous to just say to you. The cultural misunderstandings. Innocent things to one partner confusing the other. Sharing a meal an act of intimacy for Cybertronians. Energon so scare that the act of giving their fuel or ration to another becomes an act of love. Giving up fuel that was hard to come by to make sure their partner had enough even if they go without. Driven to feed you because they need to take care of you, to prove you matter to them.
Elaborate or simple conjunx gifts made from bits of themselves to adorn you. Mostly made by themself, but sometimes they might ask for help for complicated designs beyond their skill level. A physical show of their commitment that should be given before bonding but might even be given before intimacy. If itâs not explained to you, itâs just a pretty bit of metal in your botâs colors. And you canât understand why your partner becomes irritated if you donât wear it at all times, but the mech might be too embarrassed to explain why itâs not just jewelry. They also might just pinch the clasp closed to prevent you from removing it altogether to avoid explaining.
The shockingly, humbling intimacy of you riding in their alt mode. Of having someone inside them, touching parts of them that have never been touched. The reassuring warmth and barely there weight of you tucked inside them trusting yourself to them. Not understanding how big a deal it is, but the bot is losing it if you actually fall asleep inside them on a long ride, curling up in their seat. Trusting them completely.
Unconsciously pulsing or cycling their biolights for you trying so hard to telegraph what they want without just saying it. Almost coming undone at the feel of soft, human fingers tracing their biolights because theyâre pretty and not understanding that youâre flirting back now. Human hands on wings, chevrons, and antenna. Just lazily exploring without realizing those are all so sensitive, loaded with sensory arrays and you might as well be caressing their modesty panel. Warm mouths on neck cables and mesh, biting softly, those blunt nails dipping into mesh between seams while your partnerâs venting raggedly.
Being reluctant to pull out after, curling themself around you, your head tucked under their chin. Wanting more, wanting everything and unsure how to just ask instead of taking. Worrying in the quiet after if the differences between you both are insurmountable. If thereâs no way to overcome them in the long run. Servos toying with soft hands, lazily playing with your fingers while you drowse against them. Not recharging even as your breathing evens out with sleep, kept up by their own worries. Knowing theyâre not safe, that being with them when theyâre actively at war puts you in danger and that the kind thing would be to let you go. And unable to, needing your warmth to fill out the empty places hollowed out by a millennia of fighting and death. Wanting to feel something real. Something that isnât hate, anger, or fear. Wanting to be allowed this.
Starscream's Conjunx|Multishipper @starscreams-conjunx - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
