*shoves this at you* here you go! Working on a short story about jazz and prowl set in the decepticon prowl au. I hope I got the vibes right ❤️
Prowl did not leave the war room.
He had no reason to. Prowl had long since abandoned the concept of "outside."
Strategy did not require fresh air or open spaces—it required discipline. The outside world was irrelevant—an uncontrolled, unpredictable factor with no strategic value. The only things that mattered were data streams, enemy movements, and the ever-growing plans that turned battles in their favor. His duties required precision, vigilance, and absolute focus. He saw Soundwave and Shockwave once every few weeks for briefings, filled out his reports, then returned to work. It was efficient. It was necessary.
Everything outside of that was a waste of time.
He did not need distractions.
Which was why Meister was becoming a problem.
The new Decepticon was competent, which was the only reason Prowl tolerated his presence. But he was also disruptive—too confident, too relaxed, too quick with his glossa. He played the game well enough to earn Megatron’s trust, but Prowl wasn’t convinced. A mech who seemed to belong everywhere and nowhere at once couldn't be trusted his tact-net said. Plus, Prowl had his suspicions—Meister was too adaptable, too perceptive—but no evidence. Yet.
And now he was here, leaning against the side of Prowl’s terminal like he belonged there.
“You ever leave this fraggin’ room?” Meister asked, visor gleaming under the dim tactical lights.
Prowl didn’t bother looking up. “Irrelevant.”
Meister scoffed, arms folding across his chassis. “Tch. ‘Course you’d say that.”
Prowl’s optics flickered up at the tone—like amusement mixed with something sharper.
“You got somethin’ to say, Meister?”
Meister tilted his helm. “Just thinkin’ it’s funny. Megatron talks about strength, but you—” He gestured vaguely at Prowl’s station, littered with datapads and flickering displays. “—you hole yourself up in here like a half forgotten glitch."
Prowl’s optics narrowed. “I do not waste time on meaningless indulgences.”
Meister chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Right. ‘Cause tactics win wars, not the bots fightin’ ‘em.”
Prowl’s plating twitched. “Do you have a purpose for being here?”
“Yeah,” Meister pushed off the desk. “I do.” He took a step closer, voice dropping just slightly. “Come outside.”
Prowl’s vents cycled sharply. “No.”
“Just for a cycle,” Meister pressed. “Ain’t like the war’s gonna end in the time it takes for you to step outside and look at the fraggin’ sky.”
Prowl ex-vented slowly. “Unnecessary.”
“Y’keep sayin’ that, but y’ain’t got a real reason.” Meister tilted his helm, expression unreadable. “What, you scared or somethin’?”
Prowl’s optics flared. “Do not mistake my focus for fear.”
The challenge lingered. Prowl held Meister’s gaze for a long, silent moment, processing the possible outcomes. There was no tactical advantage in agreeing.
But refusing would give Meister something to hold over him.
And that was unacceptable.
Meister smirked. “That’s all I need.”
Breathes, looks, breathes again. *Simply dies*. WHAT THE ACRUAL LIVI BFF AKNF VWVCIWJBG!??? THIS IS SO GOOD??? THE DIALOGUE!! THE DIALOGUE!!!! ECHO- CIRCUT! YOU ARE INSANE!! Can I spin you around and around?? Your brain! This is beautiful. I am without speech? I am without good and proper words?? YOU HAVE GOT DOWN THE CHARACTERS. SO GOOD!!! ITS ALMOST LIKE IM READINF POETRY AND ITS TEARING ME APART AND PUTTING ME BACK TOGATHER BOTH SIMULTANEOUSLY AND AT THE SAME TIME.. I literally read this and ended up grabbing my phone so hard while reading that my hand turned red. YOU HAVE A GIFT! OML! Breeeeathe. OhMIgosh, hold up, *dies again*, this is going in the archives of my Transformers notes document. The same document that is already so long my notes app told me I exceeded the set length for all possible notes app attachments, please for the likes of all things good,, I need to sit. and then I need to read this again. And then I need to grab some paper, a pencil, a highlighter, some annotations, a blanket, some more pencils. And then I need to read this again. And then I need to sit. And then I need to READ THIS AGAIN.
“He did not need distractions”,, mmhm, yep,, absolutely no distractions necessary here right now,, in the middle of Decepticon headquarters 💀😏✨
“What, you scared or somethin’?”
- PFT HA! This phrasing is so genius because in his mind what Prowl is doing is painting him as someone with mental fortitude, someone without needs like ‘living’, but because Jazz phrases this like “wait,, you really can’t do it big man?” Suddenly [because of Prowls’s view of Jazz] his definition of mental fortitude makes a temporary shift to deal with Jazz’s request because he doesn’t want to be seen as somebody who can’t function on a standard that was issued by a fellow “Decepticon”
- Ooooog yeah,, that hit home <33✨
- YESSSS, that is all you need! Bro, I love the phrasing on this too because, 1. It implies that Jazz knows Prowl well enough to recognize that he can be changed,, 2. It recognizes that there is still a part of Prowl that isn’t attached to the figurative work machine,, [ it’s dormant, but there <33] and Jazz knows that all he really needs is a little time to find it, and drag it out [politely.. but quickly]
