Transformers Prowl - Tumblr Posts
Goodbye to a World by @ukiyoebirds (Me. It’s me).
I finally wrote a fanfic.
Summary:
“Wh-who are you?” D-16 asked. The spark ghost tilted his helm and gazed at him with unseeing optics. “Don’t you remember?” He gurgled out, more of that strange pink fluid seeping out behind a cracked battle mask. The specter took a bloody breath. “You killed me.”
-
The mines are haunted and Prowl unwillingly gains a conscience.
Goodbye to a World by @ukiyoebirds (Me. It’s me).
There’s a second chapter now! I’m frankly surprised.
Summary:
“Wh-who are you?” D-16 asked. The spark ghost tilted his helm and gazed at him with unseeing optics. “Don’t you remember?” He gurgled out, more of that strange pink fluid seeping out behind a cracked battle mask. The specter took a bloody breath. “You killed me.”
-
The mines are haunted and Prowl unwillingly gains a conscience.
Im working on a comic redraw!!! I love Prowl :3, and green makes me happy, so here's the rough sketch of my sillies!!!!
(Little description of my redesign under the cut)
Ok! So, for me, since hes a police officer, i can honestly see him with a rounder design to move master, and more curved horn thingys bc, why not! I can also imagine him having small antenna at the sides of his head to pick up radio frequencies more clearly! Also, his face felt bland, so i gave him a facial thing :3 but other then that i can see him being pretty much the same, just with longer door wings, and a slightly different paint job :)
@bloody-1518
Find the difference
Found this screenshot of jazz and prowl and thought it looked familiar lol 🤔
What I learned in boating school is that Earthspark Tarantulas ✨is capable of redemption, and so I will now use all of my brain to headcanon Earthspark TaraProwl getting back together forever and ever
Size Difference TaraProwl on my Twitter if you want to see it
❌no minors on my Twitter
Posting for the first time in four months, so I decided to introduce another one of my OC’s! I literally just created it today, and would appreciate any thoughts or criticism! This OC pertains to the Transformers fandom.
///////
Name: Breach
Affiliation: Autobot
Position: Special Operations
Age: equivalent to early 20s
-adult frame
Alt Mode:
-Aspark Owl
Height:
-15 feet and 10.2 inches
Weight:
-4,189 lbs
—————————————————————
MY OTHER HEADCANONS ABOUT BREACH
- [ ] They/Them pronouns
- [ ] Doorwings
- [ ] Works in Spec Ops
- [ ] Extremely good at their job
- [ ] Comedy to cope
- [ ] Cares about their teammates like they’re family
- [ ] Goes to Swerve’s bar a lot
-finds Swerve to be a good friend
-looks out for Swerve when others talk shit
- [ ] Subsequently adopted by the minibots aboard the Lost Light
- [ ] Speaks many languages due to their job but cannot for the life of them figure out what Beacon is trying to say
-made it their mission to attempt communication
- [ ] ✨trauma✨
- [ ] Despises romcoms
-thinks they’re stupid
- [ ] Terrible sleep schedule
-like it’s absolutely horrendous
- [ ] Has to be dragged kicking and screaming to the medibay
- [ ] Before working directly under Jazz with his team, Breach was assigned to a different section of the Autobot Army
-their old CO, Silverclaw, was the worst mech
-Silverclaw held no regard to the safety of Breach and their teammates
-Breach and the others were thrown into situations where they had no knowledge on what to do
-the CO was corrupt and abusive, and used his rank and authority to better his own position
-soon, Breach and Flutter, their teammate whom they viewed as their sister, were the only two remaining
-the two of them would be joined by Silverclaw on their next mission, where they would be teaming up with Jazz’s crew
-immediately, Jazz and his crew knew something wasn’t right, but they didn’t have time to act on their suspicions
-on the mission, the CO ended up causing noise, breaking their cover
-as the Decepticons fired upon them, Silverclaw grabbed Flutter, who was closest, and used her as a shield
-she died immediately, and Breach, who witnessed what just happened, lost it
-they let their SpecOps coding take control, and killed every ‘con in the room before putting Silverclaw in a chokehold
*in my headcanon, inspired from fics, SpecOps mechs sometimes have to adapt, download, play, and fake different mindsets and other stuff in order to complete a job; when on a job, SpecOps are trained to focus on the job only, nothing else (essentially, they are guided by high stake survival instincts; this makes them very dangerous after missions, and are required to be subdued and taken care of as they come back to a clearer state of mind)*
-Breach, running on these instincts coupled with the loyalty to Flutter and hatred for their CO, tries to kill him
-Jazz quickly intervenes, forcing Breach into a shutdown, while Bumblebee and Mirage arrest Silverclaw
-ever since, Jazz and his team work with Breach, who eventually relearns to trust authority
-the team grows a strong bond, becoming one big family
-Breach is still sad about Flutter
- [ ] Likes pulling pranks
-will sometimes team up with the Lambo Twins
- [ ] Doesn’t know the word “self care”
- [ ] Depressed
- [ ] “That’s what she said!”
- [ ] Jazz and Prowl are their go-to that help calm them down after missions, but if they aren’t available then Breach goes to either Mirage or Bumblebee
/////////
I decided that Breach is part of a universe that is a mix of MTMTE and G1; I can explain what I mean if you want. Anyways, I have some memes and incorrect quotes too if this is liked enough or anyone wants it. Please let me know your thoughts!!
BEACON, who communicates by using their lights to talk in Morse code, is a character belonging to @justashana
The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~
Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍
Finally managed to ACTUALLY COMPLETE a jazz ND prowl drawing pls clap for me :(
G1 jazzprowl r next I will learn how 2 draw those bastards
i thnk they're neat
also some doodles vv
cybertrons worst malewife
Doodles cus I wanted to figure out how 2 draw him </3
silly frame for a tt i made >:)
m thinking of giving prowl shoulder missiles next time i draw him it's a curse he looks different every time KMAOSKDK
this isn't actually good I just really like the art for this comic
additionally,
jazzprowl fan kid made on aggie cus I'M AN ARTIST I DRAW WHAT I WANT!!!
their name is rig. their whole deal is they have a glitch (like G1 red with the lil audials horn sparks). super sensitive to stressful situations nd they'll sorta rewire themselves defensively so their personality jumps around
created after the war and stuff (they've been shown nothing but love & care their whole life) but they're deathly afraid of disappointing their moms ueueueue
i made them as a joke then i got attached pls help
Just a couple-a guys
TF NSFW Headcanons #1 - Prowl
Warnings: sub/bottom Prowl + other various cybertronians + free use + implied public sex + manhandling/groping kink + heavy size kink + heavy degradation + rough sex + exhibitionism + very detailed description of a robot that transforms into a police car
A/N: This might seem ooc, but I headcanon Prowl to be an absolute freak in the sheets and is the main reason why I say fuck the cops
Also, yay, first fic in the series!!!
-> Frame Prowl has a gorgeous frame. Prowl may be cold-constructed, but Primus must have blessed him himself. Maybe it's the Praxian in him, but his frame is absolutely sinful, his huge bumper bouncing every step he makes, his headlights gleaming. His small waist widens out to strong hips, his thigh nicely shaped. Prowl's door wings flutter involuntarily nearly all the time when he's agitated, making it a little hard for his crewmates to not stare at them.
Prowl's valve and spike are standard size for his frame. He actually modded his spike to be more plain and uninteresting to really bring attention to his valve. Despite his valve being of normal size, it's fucking mesmerizing. his valve lips are a dark gray, with small lines of blue biolights. His node is a dark red color, and is a bit oversized. Prowl has a piercing valve, a gold bar going through his node. Whenever he's feeling risky, he wears his valve lip piercings and gets off to the feeling his panel grinding them into his valve when he's sitting down. The only modding he's done on his valve was to make his valve callipers tighten much more than needed whenever a mech first enters, causing them to have to ram their spike into Prowl's valve so it'll open up. And of course, Prowl overloads from the rough treatment.
-> Free-Use Prowl is notorious for being an uptight and cold mech, and he knows it. It even turns him on more knowing that multiple mechs could never imagine the Prowl loves to be treated as shareware . His favorite fantasy is of back when the war was still active, and the autobots were beginning to lose terribly to the decepticons. To boost morale, Prowl would offer himself up for a program; A free interface program where whenever an autobot would want to blow off some steam, Prowl would offer his valve up anonymously for that mech to use to their pleasure. He self services to the idea of every mech lining up to get a taste of his tight valve, imagining how they would be caught off guard by the feeling of his valve rings and how damn tight he is. No one will know that it was Prowl's valve they were fragging but the idea of them finding out makes him shiver. Thinking of them discreetly slapping his aft as he walks past them, asking Prowl if he's willing to frag again...
-> Groping/Manhandling Prowl knows his body is hot, and he knows everyone around him knows too. He loves when his partners hands roam all over his body, groping his bumper, especially his headlights. He lets out low, sultry moans as he's fondled in every visible part of his body and lets out high pitched whines when his partners find small bundles of wiring under his plating and pull on them. Whenever he self-services, Prowl loves to watch himself in the mirror as his servos roam around his body, rubbing his bumper hood, groping his headlights as his servos go lower to his array. Watching himself tug on the piercings in his valve, especially the bar piercing his node while his other servo traces circles onto his headlight turns him on so much that he can sometimes lose himself in the sensations, his eyes glazing over as he fondles himself and brings himself closer and closer to his overload.
-> Size Kink Prowl is alright with taking a spike his size, but he loves heavy trucks or tanks because of how easily they ruin his insides. Prowl wants to feel the spike in him rub all the nodes in his valve, to take up all the space there is so that he can feel so full. The feeling makes him feel so giddy that he struggles to keep himself from drooling and giggling a bit once such a huge spike is fully seated inside of him. Once that spike begins to move, good luck trying to keep Prowl quiet because he can get a little empty in the processor when a huge spike is ramming his insides, causing him to care less about his surroundings.
-> Heavy Degradation Prowl absolutely loves to be have degrading and humiliating words thrown at him. He especially loves when his partners humiliate him about the filthy things he enjoys during interface. "This spike of yours is useless. Good thing you're only made to take a good spiking like a good piece of shareware," "I bet you don't care whether you get transfluid in your intake or your valve since it doesn't matter for a spike-hungry slut like you," "Is it really this easy it is to frag you Commander Prowl? It's a surprise your valve isn't all sloppy and loose all the time." All these harsh words will easily have Prowl overloading so hard as the insults keep echoing in his processor, reminding Prowl of how much of a desperate whore he is.
-> Rough Sex Considering all the other kinks that are on the list, it's no surprise that Prowl loves a rough fragging. He doesn't really enjoy slow and gentle interfacing with his partners, it's something he would only enjoy with a dedicated lover. He prefers his partners to be rough though, for them to bite him, spanking his aft or valve, choke him, almost anything is on the table. His doorwings are no exception. Grabbing them will have Prowl whimpering and like putty in his partner's hands. When it comes to Prowl's piercings, he'll be pouting if his partner didn't touch them. Rubbing relentlessly at Prowl's node while pressing down on his piercing or tugging on the rings piercing his valve while eating him out brings him his overload so quickly as he begs you to be even rougher. And the feeling of his partner grabbing him by the helm, pushing it down onto a table while they bully his legs open? It might make him reconsider flipping tables if this is what they could be used for.
TF Titty Headcanons Pt. 1
❏* — warnings — sub/bottom characters(autobots) + dom/top reader + robo titties(duh) + nipple piercings + lactation + breastfeeding kink + rough sex + degradation + praise + breeding kink + heat cycles + i love giving them sappy nicknames + prowl needs his own warning
❏* — a/n — if I have to be plagued with horny thoughts then you guys will suffer too
also, I'm willing to take more requests on which characters(especially decepticons) I should do for part 2 ^-^
➾ AUTOBOTS
✦ Optimus - As the leader of the autobots and one of the last living Primes, it shouldn't come as any surprise that Optimus is well-endowed. His tits are large and bouncy— they defy gravity in every sexy way possible. The Prime's chest is a white-ish color, plush and pillowy, a perfect to touch and perfect to cuddle.
Before becoming a Prime, his boobs were already big but now, they produce mineral-rich energon. He sometimes finds himself upgrading his chassis armor because his tits often press up on his windshields, sometimes popping his chassis armor. On rare occasions, he might even be lactating— It's very distracting, and he always gives embarrassed yet wholehearted apologies whenever his fellow autobots are met(blessed) with the sight. It might even happen that one of the decepticons he meets on the battlefield start tripping over themselves as they gawk at his chest.
Optimus lets out low, silky moans whenever his tits are fondled, his audials twitching with sensitivity. He's very open about his tits. He has no problem with his berth partners wanting to grope them, even suckle on them. If his partner wanted to, he would absolutely let them lay him out on his spinal strut just to fondle and suck on his nozzles, drawing out any energon they can find. It's a bit embarrassing for Optimus to admit, but it's not too hard for him to overload just from having his refineries played with. All Optimus needs is the feeling of having servos grabbing his plush chest and constantly rubbing his nozzles, maybe even his partner clamping their dentae down hard on his nozzle for him to let out undignified sounds and squirting all over himself.
As much as Optimus enjoys having warm servos massage his tits with care, his moans go up a pitch when his tits are bruised and left with marks from sharp dentae. Whether his partner apologizes for their rough treatment or not, they definitely knew that the Prime got a little wetter from it.
✦ Ratchet - Ratchet has huge tits and I will die on that hill. No doubt about it. Ratty's tits are a dark gray, matching his faceplate. They're big and hefty, hard for a mech of even his size to cup them fully into their hands. While he would rather die than admit it, he definitely loves to have his tits played with.
As a medic, Ratty's boobs produce much more energon than your regular cybertronian, which causes him to need to milk them often. Whenever he starts producing extra energon, it's always a pain to deal with because it leaves his poor tits swollen, nearly pressing up against his windshield, and so sensitive when he ends up leaking energon. It's so hard for him to milk his tits on his own so whenever he's at his most frustrated and sensitive state, he has to begrudgingly go to another trusted mech for help. Even though he insists on it being strictly professional, his cute whimpers and the dark blush on his face always betrays his neediness.
During the war, Ratty was definitely known for not only being the best medic Cybertron has seen, but the medic with tits that make the sweetest tasting energon. Whenever he's treating his patients, almost all of them ask if he could provide some energon for them with his generous breasts. Even though they try their best to be subtle about it(except for the most shameless mechs), Ratchet always knows their reasons, but he'll still provide it anyway because it's in his nature to help others. He just has to make sure not to get release his panel and reveal his already drooling valve during the feeding, which is going to be really tough for him.
✦ Drift/Deadlock - Drift's tits aren't the biggest but not the smallest(definitely bigger than Rodimus' though) , but there's still nothing about them that you can't not love. His protoform there is a darker color just like his faceplate, and sometimes flushes a cute pinkish color. Drifty has very sensitive tits and will let out a little squeal if they're groped too roughly. He's not too keen on showing his chest to anybot, especially when he still went by Deadlock, due to his more private nature. But when he has a partner to show them off, they are one lucky mech.
Whenever someone is mindful with how they treat Drifty's tits, massaging them softly, rubbing their digits over his nozzles with practiced care, he absolutely melts in pleasure. He lets out small eeks of pleasure while his finials twitch in response to the stimulation, his frame shivering like a turbo-rabbit . His whines and slight pouts are so attractive whenever his tits are played with. Drifty tries so hard to seem like he's unaffected but it's so hard for him to do when both his faceplate and his tits are both flushed pink with energon.
When he was known as Deadlock, even in bed, he would be known for being feisty and a little too eager to bite. But the moment servos are on his tits and slowly groping them, he gives up all resistance and tries his best to stop the little moans threatening to come out from his vocalizer. He'll still have a look that screams "make fun of me about this and the last thing you'll see will be my gun" but it'll be softened by his half-shuttered optics and and his breathy whines tumbling from his intake.
✦ Rodimus - definitely has small tits. And he is proud of them!!! He loves to show off his tits to his partners in berth and has possibly opened up his chestplate to show them off to any crewmates that flatter him enough more than once, maybe even let them cop a feel. His boobs are a white color similar to his faceplate. He has very perky nozzles and he will whimper when they're tugged on. Even though his tits are smaller than the average cybertronian's, they're still just so adorable, especially with the way his nozzles slightly flush blue when he's aroused.
Roddy knows that people are into his tits and he uses it to his advantage. Whenever Magnus is boring him to death with reports on ship maintenance or whatever, he shoves the datapad or anything that Magnus is holding in his servos, brings the huge mech's helm down to his level, and pushes his tits into Magnus' face with a cute little "ta-da!". There isn't much to push into the big mech's face but nonetheless, it's effective. He would giggle a bit and ask Mags if he liked his tits and Rodimus is left with a short-circuiting Ultra Magnus to explain to everyone. He's tried that move on Megatron too, but it's sadly not as effective on him, though the ex-warlord definitely does enjoy the view.
✦ Prowl - This praxian definitely has huge tits-- that's what his bumper is for. Now his bumper is great and Prowl definitely carries it with pride, but his titties are the real star of the show. His protoform are a dark gray compared to his faceplate. Unlike most mechs, Prowler has custom nozzle piercings: a pair of gold piercings(they cost him a mean amount of credits) and a pair of silver hoops. He switches between pairs each day. They're so big that he sometimes has a bit of trouble transforming his bumper over them. He loves to tug on them while he fingers himself silly because the pain is so delicious that even a few tugs can get his pathetic spike overloading and his messy valve squirting.
While Prowler berths very few partners, he loves to get his tits fucked by a spike big enough to reach past his cleavage and into his open mouth. Whenever his partner tugs on his nozzle piercings while fucking his tits and hisses out some degrading words, Prowl's vocalizer lets out a whoreish squeal-- he probably overloaded right then and there. Prowl for sure loves his titties. He may not be on Starscream's level of narcissism(no one can reach his level), but he sometimes like to check himself out in a mirror or camera to admire his busty chest, groping himself and gently tugging on his piercings as he begins to pant and his fans click on. It's at times like this that he often dreams about being subjected to obscenely kinky scenarios: his tits being bitten down on harshly as he's forced to continue riding his partner's monstrous length, his partner hooking up pumps to his nozzles to activate his energon lactation and leave him hooked up with multiple vibrators stuffed up his valve and aft and left overloading silly for hours, or being left in a dirty alley during his heat cycle, all his panels open while he drips energon from his tits and his pussy leaks lubricant all over the ground as he's left in a spike-hungry state, just about willing to let anyone fuck him as long as they'll ruin his pussy and fill his gestation tank with transfluid.
Snippet of my guilty pleasure fic:
The worst had come true –
They were coming.
0-0-0
The whole story had started on Cybertron when Jazz had been barely an adult.
Well, no, the whole story had started eons before Jazz was sparked, on a small scattering of space shuttles running out of fuel in the middle of deep space.
But for Jazz, it started one afternoon, on a remote Iacon Base, when he started to get hot.
It was Prowl’s fault that he was on the base to begin with. Prowl had always been stupidly beautiful and ridiculously pretty, but lately… He’d been wanting to act on those thoughts more and more. Sure, he’d fantasized about shoving everything off Prowl’s desk and declaring “Do me instead!,” hadn’t everyone? Two weeks ago however, he’d found himself carefully clearing off Prowl’s desk to do just that. Prowl had looked at him strangely and then assumed it was another jab at him overworking himself.
So, Jazz had volunteered to go around and check all the other bases on the perimeter. It was sort of fun, but he’d rather have stayed in the Main Iacon base and spent his evenings doing even more fun things, like annoying Prowl, talking to Prowl, and nudging Prowl to go do things with him.
Instead, he was crammed into a tiny bunk in a storage closet turned “visitor suite” writing up his reports.
He flipped over. The cramped little room was so stuffy and hot! Had they not connected the environmental controls to the closets? He tried to stretch out and keep his plating from touching as much as possible, but the bunk was barely enough for him to fit on, much less stretch out.
He kept typing.
‘All bots seem to be following the code in accorancde with the precident set down by their previous leader –‘ they were all afts, but Doubleback had been one too until he’d been blown up, ‘- and no further actions are needed –‘ they aren’t going to change so just deal with it.
The Night of the Storm
Transformers Halloween fic time! Cross posted on AO3.
Summery: Prowl misses his old school, his old life and his kind, awkward uncle. When his creators decide to send him to an elite boarding school, Prowl is plunged into a world of bullies, controlling teachers, and homesickness. One night, he runs out into the rain and meets a curious sparkling that is not just a sparkling. This sparkling is -!
This sparkling is an idiot.
Prowl&Jazz kid friendship fic! With light vampire elements!
Prowl was not scared. He was not a sparkling. He was not crying.
He just…he just missed Uncle Magnus.
The branch scrapped against the window again and Prowl bit his fist to keep from yelping. It was a wicked storm and the Darkling season in Praxus was famous for them. It wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon.
All the other sparklings were in recharge.
He didn’t know why his creators had decided to send him away to school after ignoring him for most of his life. Why couldn’t they have just left him with Uncle Magnus?
The room lit up with strange, bizarre shadows as the lightning spiraled down to the metal planet, sending arcs and sparks out in all directions.
Prowl grabbed the heavy blanket and pulled it tightly around his shoulders and imagined it was Uncle Magnus, hugging him on the couch.
On stormy nights when neither of them could sleep, Prowl would curl up against Uncle Magnus and listen to him read. Uncle Magnus didn’t care for vids and had never owned a holoscreen. He said the pictures ruined a good story. As he grew, Prowl found he preferred listening to stories as well.
He wanted to go home.
Was Uncle Magnus sitting up, right now? Was he still reading The Mystery of the Floating Optic? Or had he only been reading that for Prowl? He claimed he’d been waiting for Prowl to be old enough to read it to. He’d said it was his favorite as a sparkling. Had he lied?
No. Prowl shook his helm under the covers. Uncle Magnus didn’t lie to him. He needed to remember that. Uncle Magnus always told him the truth.
And he loved him. Even if he said it with actions instead of words like Archivist Orion and Officer Strongarm.
He built the picture up in his mind. The tiny front room with the squashy couch facing the huge window. They were on a high floor and their room looked out over the ocean. They could watch the storms roll in and have sweet energon and spicy crisps. Uncle Magnus would –
Was that a window opening? No, everyone was asleep. He was fine.
Uncle Magus would pick up their book from the table and scroll down to where they’d left off. He’d –
That sounded like something slithering across the floor, didn’t it? Or was it the rain against the window again?
He’d start reading right where he’d left off, as if they’d never paused and he’d show Prowl the pictures. There was a really scary one where Detective Lamplight was walking down an alley and he didn’t know that behind him –
Something slammed into the berth frame and shrieked. Prowl threw himself out of bed and screamed, pulling the blanket over him. He started to roll under the berth – find a safe place to defend from, then attack – when he heard the laughing.
He saw a half dozen pairs of pedes bouncing in excitement as they spoke.
“Did you see him?”
“What a snotling!”
“He screamed and everything!”
“Hey, slagbrains! Anyone ever tell you monsters aren’t real?”
“Aw, want creator and carrier, little sparkling?”
“Run away home, little sparkling!”
They burst into louder, rougher, crueler mirth and it scratched at his plating like glass shards.
Prowl stood up. He was sad and lonely and he hated them. His spark was exploding out of his chest and they were laughing.
He wanted to – he wanted to – hewantedtohewantedtohewantedto –
Prowl ran.
The blanket slipped from his servos and he slammed into the dormitory doors. The hallway flew by him – his pedes weren’t touching the floor – and then he was out in the storm, still running.
The problem was, that he could. He’d taken martial arts classes since before he came up to Uncle Magnus’s knee. He could have hit the other younglings. They were just other younglings. They’d probably only gotten into playground scrapes before.
Prowl could have hit them and they’d have stayed down.
And because he could have, he didn’t.
Prowl’s pedes slapped the wet ground as he slowed, splishing in the puddles of oil and solvent rain. He came to a stop in the big courtyard, the grand hall on one end, the professor’s quarters on the other. The huge, gaudy front gardens looked dull and messy in the storm.
He stood still, helm down, letting the steady, firm rhythm of the rain solder him to the ground. He out here, in the quiet, he felt like himself, like Prowl, Magnus’s creation, the enforcers’ favorite and the librarian’s bane.
Prowl stood still in the downpour and vented. The rain collected above his optics and dripped heavily onto his chest. He could feel it running down his back and drizzling off his fingertips like cold lightning. He stared at the chapel, tinted purple in the rain. The small, run-down chapel was the only thing Prowl liked about his new school. The rest of it was…style and pomp, Sergeant Kup would have said. It made Prowl vaguely embarrassed to be a student.
He would have to go back in. He briefly entertained the thought of running away, back to Uncle Magnus, but shut it down quickly. He would only send Prowl back and Prowl didn’t think he could watch that again. If there had been anyone sadder than Prowl that day at the train station, it had been Uncle Magnus.
Prowl had pretended not to hear the many – many – angry conversations between Uncle Magnus and his creators. He had heard the words “socially maladjusted” more than once on both ends.
Well, if this school was an example of well-adjusted younglings, Prowl preferred the company of his fellow weirdos.
Prowl was just starting to convince himself that the idea of going back inside and drying off sounded nice – it was difficult, but he’d been captain of the debate team back home – when he noticed something odd.
At some point, while he’d been staring at the chapel, it had started staring back at him.
Two dim green optics shone out of the top window. Which was strange, because Prowl knew that behind that window was open air, since the chapel had vaulted ceilings and no attic.
And, because he was Prowl again, not the cringing shadow of himself that the school was slowly forcing him to be, he marched up to the chapel doors to see what was hovering twenty feet in the air, inside a sacred house.
0-0-0
Prowl didn’t pause to knock, he threw open the doors and looked straight up.
“Eep!”
He stared into the bright green optics of another sparkling, floating above him, servo over it’s mouth.
“Eep!” it said again and plastered itself to the wall, as if that would hide it from view. It did not.
“I can see you!” Prowl shouted up. “What are you doing in here?!” He put his servos on his hips and tried to look like Uncle Magnus when he spoke to the door-to-door salebots.
“Um…Ah’m not! Ah’m…ah – ah – Ah’m –“ the sparkling sputtered. Its – his – voice was high and thin. “’m an optic-owl!”
“No, you’re not. You’re too big and you don’t have wings.”
“Ah’m two optic-owls!” he shouted down desperately. Unfortunately, Prowl had noticed, that as he’d been talking, the window in front of him was vibrating, the old, rusty latched threatening to give way under the wind. He opened his mouth to warn him.
At that moment, it snapped. The window slammed open, smacking into the sparkling that had been clinging to it, and sending him tumbling to the ground in front of Prowl.
Prowl rushed forwards and bent down.
“Are you okay?!” He grabbed the sparkling’s helm and turned it, looking for dents, like Uncle Magnus did whenever Prowl fell turning training. “What hurts?” He didn’t have a first aid kit, but he could run back up to the school if -
The sparkling sat up with a groan, letting his servos fall into his lap, optics mournful.
“Mah pride,” he said sadly, rubbing his backside and wincing. He slump forwards. “Ah am an idiot.”
“Yes,” Prowl agreed. He brushed a bit of chapel dust off the mech’s forehelm. “Why are you in our chapel?”
“Cause it’s rainin’ outside it?” he said, confused.
“I mean, why aren’t you at home with your family? Are you lost?” Wasn’t there something else – “and how were you floating? You’re not a seeker. Why are your optics green? I’ve never seen green optics.”
He certainly wasn’t a seeker. He was smaller than Prowl with rounded shoulders and a wide face. He was silver all over with a single red stripe going down each side.
The sparkling blinked at him.
“Ah dunno? Every energon seeker Ah know has green optics so –“
“Every what?”
“Energon seeker?” The sparkling kicked his pedes, nervously. “Ya not a Seeker hunter, are ya? ‘Cause if ya are – I’m not one! I’m an optic-owl shifter!”
“I am not,” Prowl answered, peering closer now. Uncle Magnus didn’t read a lot of scary stories, but his class had read Tales of the Energy-Suckers and he’d seen Don’t Let It In! with Officer Kup, who had laughed through the whole movie.
The sparkling had strange colored optics.
He could float without anti-gravs or wings.
He had called himself an energon seeker.
He had, now that Prowl looked, two sets of very sharp, very long, fangs.
Oh.
Prowl considered, briefly, being scared. He decided against it. It wasn’t useful and being scared of something like, well, the clumsy sparkling in front of him would be embarrassing.
“Are you going to attack me?” he asked and the sparkling jumped.
“Wha – no! Carrier says ta always ask first! It’s rude not ta ask!” He was shaking his helm quickly. “Ah’d get such a lecture if Ah didn’t ask! So, can I?”
“Can you what?” Prowl asked before his processor caught up.
“Bite ya? Ah’ve been flying all night and –“
“No! You – “ This was getting him nowhere. Every time he asked a question the sparkling sparked two more. First things first.
“My name is Prowl. What is yours?”
The sparkling sprang to his pedes and smiled.
“Ah’m Jazz! Nice ta meet ya!” He stuck out his servo and Prowl shook it. Then he tried to let go.
“Jazz?”
“Yeah?” Was he inching forwards? Yes he was.
“I said no biting.”
“Yeah, Ah know. I’m not gonna bite ya. That’s bad.” His optics were becoming dimmer. Prowl waited. Better to know now if Jazz would keep his word and Prowl was confident in his abilities to fend off…what he could only describe as a doofus.
“Then why are you getting closer?” Jazz’s pedes bumped Prowl’s.
“Ya warm…”
Jazz flopped forwards and Prowl’s arms came around him automatically.
Now he had an admitted energon seeker – and idiot – wrapped around him like an robo-squid.
“Jazz. What are you doing?” Prowl wiggled and took a step back, but Jazz came with him.
“Need it,” he mumbled. “Been out alone too long.” He nuzzled Prowl’s shoulder.
Okay. This was odd.
Jazz was chilled against him, but not freezing. He definitely had a spark. This close Prowl could feel the faint corona of it through his plating. He shouldn’t be that cold…
Out ‘alone’ too long?
“Who are you supposed to be with?” Prowl asked, trying to sound stern. Jazz beeped at him like a sparklet and hugged him tighter. Surely no one would let, well, this, out by itself.
Prowl looked out the window. The storm was regaining strength. The walls of the chapel were shaking slightly.
“Carrier ‘n mah twin. Lost ‘em over the valley when the storm hit.”
Prowl counted back.
“That was four days ago!”
“Yeah, long time. ‘s cold.”
“Do you know how to locate them? Where do you live?”
“No? Ah live wit’ em, that’s where I live,” came the non-answer.
“What is your plan then?” Prowl wiggled his servo between them and started prying Jazz away from him. Outside the storm grew louder.
“Plan? Ah found the chapel ta stay out of the rain.” Jazz hadn’t caught on yet and was blissfully unaware.
“That is not a plan,” Prowl said as he shoved and popped Jazz off his plating.
“Hey!”
He caught the surprised sparkling and stood him upright. “We are going to go inside and call my Uncle Magnus and he will help find your carrier. Come on.”
Prowl held Jazz tightly by the upper arm like Kup had showed him and tugged him towards the door.
“Hey – no! It’s wet out there! I’ll get cold!”
“You can hold onto me,” Prowl said grimly. He could put up with Jazz –
Splat!
Great. Now he had an extra set of limbs to navigate through the storm.
Prowl held onto one of Jazz’s arms to keep it from strangling him and opened the door.
Outside, it was nearly black. The clouds had thickened and the warm starlight from earlier was gone.
“Let’s go,” Prowl said and pulled.
They found their way mostly by feel.
Jazz whined the whole way and tried to crawl inside Prowl’s plating.
“We’re at the door you – just – hold on!”
Prowl tugged his servo free and pushed the door open. They stumbled inside and, despite the lashing of the rain starting to turn painful, Prowl wanted to turn around and walk back out.
The dreary brown walls and the imposing busts and statues seemed larger and darker. Prowl remembered his arrival and his entrance through these doors with perfect, horrible clarity.
There was none of the frantic, weary joy that his old school had been filled with. Nor the creaky, worn care that has suffused the Enforcer’s station where Uncle Magnus worked.
The chilly cruelness of the teachers and the students had seeped into the walls and floor and he remembered stepping inside, like stepping into a silent methane blizzard. It hadn’t gotten any better, but Prowl had…maybe he’d gotten tired of fighting against it and trying to keep warm.
“Huh,” came a voice beside his audial. “This place is gross, mech. Ah don’t like it.”
Prowl laughed.
“Me-me neither. Let’s find the comms unit. This way.”
They were dripping on the floor and Prowl took a vicious glee in tracking as much muck in as possible.
The public communication hub the school boasted was strictly guarded and its use was heavily regulated. Prowl hadn’t managed to ‘earn’ the privilege of using it yet.
It was located in an alcove close to the main doors to look like it was easily reached, but during the day there was always a teacher or older student watching it. At night they turned it off completely and set the code.
As if Prowl hadn’t learned to break codes at the pedes of Iacon’s finest hackers – the Archivists. Primus defend anyone who tried to put a paywall between an Archivist and a rare text.
He stepped up and turned it on. The quiet beep of the system set up echoed in the little alcove. A few clicks and Prowl broke through the factory setting password – if he’d known it was this easy…
The keypad lit up and the screen read Ready To Dial Out.
“Move away, I have to dial.” Prowl shook him off.
“But Ah’m cold, mech!” Jazz whined.
“Give me a klik!”
Prowl typed in their area code and then Uncle Magnus’s number and waited.
Click.
“What has happened,” Uncle Magnus demanded. “Is Prowl all right? I am coming down there now and if you have –“
“It’s me!” Prowl interrupted him. “I’m okay!”
“Prowl? You are all right? What happened?”
“I –“
His vocalizer stalled. It had been so long since he’d heard someone talk to him like this. So long since he’d heard Uncle Magnus.
“I-“ he tried again.
“Ya need help?” Jazz asked, swinging their servos, unconcerned.
“No.” He tugged his servo free – when has Jazz taken it? – and continued.
“Uncle Magnus, I need your help. I…something happened, but I’m okay! It’s hard to explain….”
“Just start at the beginning and go slowly,” Uncle Magnus urged.
Right. He could do this.
Prowl took a deep, even vent.
“The-other-sparklings-were-mean-to-me-and-so-I-went-outside-and-I-saw-optics-in-the-chapel-so-I-went-in-and-there’s-an-energon-seeker-here-and-he’s-just-a-sparkling-and-you-have-to-help-me-find-his-carrier-and-his-twin.”
There was a klik of silence.
“Frag. I had not planned on telling you about all of this so soon.”
Prowl’s mouth dropped open. Jazz inched closer again and Prowl was too shocked to stop him. Uncle Magnus had cursed! Wait…
“You know. About energon seekers?”
“There is…a second part of my job that we’ve never really discussed. There are cybertronians that don’t fit with our understanding and when they need help with the law, I am a liaison. Of sorts.”
“Of sorts,” Prowl repeated, sarcasm edging into his voice now that the panic was ebbing away. Uncle Magnus would sort everything out.
Jazz snuck closer still and tucked his helm under Prowl’s chin.
“Yes. I am going to drive up to the school and pick you both up. Go back to the chapel and wait there. I am putting you in charge, okay? Take your new friend and hide there. You are safe as long as you are on sanctified ground.”
Prowl peeled Jazz off and stood up.
“Safe from what?”
“I will explain later. Go back to the chapel and wait.”
“And you’ll pick us up? Both of us?” Prowl cycled his optics furiously – he was not going to cry in front of Jazz! He was in charge!
“Yes. And if your creators want to interfere again…I have made friends over the vorns with bots who can explain things to them more clearly. Be safe. I lo– I look forward to seeing you.”
“Okay. I love you too.” Prowl hung up.
“So, we’re going home? You too?” Jazz asked, servo creeping into Prowl’s.
“Yes.” Prowl gripped Jazz’s servo hard – and grabbed his arm with his other servo for good measure – and pulled them both back into the rain.
He was going home.
0-0-0
The next morning, being rocked gently as they drove on hidden back roads, curled up with Jazz in Uncle Magnus’s altmode, Prowl felt safe. He watched the trees pass them by and drifted in and out of recharge.
The strange shapes and shadows outside the window didn’t bother him. Uncle Magnus had called them friends and that was good enough for Prowl.
So...the other stories will be late. A little bit of Halloween bleeding into November never hurt anyone, though!