#dancing upon tarns

[lynx-doodles-indie-games]

and here's DHD's local group of iterators! sorted from oldest to youngest.

proper colors, names, and their pronouns/terms are below the cut because this is a lot of lil guys

and… no, i still don't have a lot of details for these guys parsed out… i'm not great at this.

[tinydefector]

Hello hello, Your writing is absolutley amazing AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH, I CANT. Anyway

Could I request Tarn x human reader? (Maybe some NSFW •3•) Please and thank you in advance ❤️

His Possession

Tarn x human reader

Warning: Smut, fingering, sex

Word count 1.7k

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Tarn masterlist

Took me a little to work on this one trying to figure out how I liked to write Tarn. So I hope you enjoy your Favourite DJD man

_______________

They didn't quite know what had made Tarn interested in them nor why he kept them after offlining their original ‘owner’. the Decepticon was possessive and protective of his human pet. Never letting them far from him and always in optic range, he did not fear them. How could he with how small and fragile they are. 

They squeal lightly as he plucks them up from their spot. Tarn's optics are narrow, his grip firm yet careful not to crush them. He observes their work with a mix of curiosity and disdain. They settle in his grip and go quiet. "Hi sir" they say sheepishly. 

As he holds them, Tarn's thoughts drift to his comrades, particularly Kaon, who seems to have formed some sort of connection with the human. He finds it trivial, but as long as it does not interfere with their duties, he allows it to continue. His gaze shifts back to his human, noting their submission and silence. He wonders if they understand the privilege it is to be in his presence. 

A soft gasp comes from them as Tarn presses his masked face against their back. A low content growl leaves him. His servos stay wrapped around their waist. "Sir, is everything alright?" They ask softly while trying to turn to look up at him. His optics flicker with a mix of possessiveness and protectiveness, his frame radiating a sense of dominance. The human's gasp does not go unnoticed, and he relishes in the effect he has on them.

As they attempt to turn and look up at him, "Everything is as it should be,” he states, 

With a squeeze of his servos around their waist, "Continue with your work," he commands, his voice brooking no argument.

They do as told, continuing on their work while he watches. They lean back lightly into his touch as they type away. It had taken a long time for any of the DJD members to let the little human do anything but after how long they had been under Tarns watch they had slowly been given tasks to complete. His human looked much different than they did the day he had taken them, they were healthier, dressed better and didn't look like the neglected pet they had when Tarn had killed the disgraced Decepticon who had kept them as a pet. 

"Tarn?" They call out softly as Tarn's talons trace patterns on their skin, a shiver runs down their spine, a mixture of fear and anticipation. They have become accustomed to his touch, and it gave him a prideful sense of accomplishment. 

But Tarn remains silent, his talons continuing their intricate dance on their skin.The human's breath hitches as Tarn's talons drag lower, sending a shiver of anticipation through their body. A soft whine escapes their lips,They feel the weight of his presence pressing against them, his nuzzles against their skin igniting a fire within them 

In that moment, as Tarn's touch becomes more intimate, they realise what he wants. Their heart races with a combination of nervousness and excitement, their mind flooded with a myriad of emotions. Biting their lip softly.

They continue standing there as Tarn's touches become more possessive. "Sir, do you want me to undress?" They ask while looking up at him. Another whine escapes their lips as Tarn pulls them closer, his talons deftly working to discard their clothing. The air is thick with tension as the layers of fabric fall away, exposing their skin to his hungry gaze.

As their clothing falls to the ground, the human's heart races with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. They trust Tarn, but the unknown lies ahead, a path they willingly tread upon. Their body is laid bare before him, vulnerable yet willing, a canvas upon which Tarn can leave his mark. 

This was what he adores how willing his human was to please him and only him. And he voices his approval. “Very good pet”  As Tarn spreads their thighs, his talons glide along their tender flesh, eliciting soft moans that escape their lips. Their body trembles with anticipation, their desire growing with each stroke of Tarn's talons.

Their plea for more reaches his audios, their voice filled with a mix of need and longing. "Tarn, please..." they call out softly, their voice a delicate melody that stirs something primal within him. 

A low growl rumbles deep in Tarn's chassis, a primal response to their plea. He relishes in the power he holds over them, the way they willingly submit to his touch. It fuels his desire, his dominance taking hold. Pressing his digits against them, he slowly works them open, savouring the small whines and moans that fall from their lips. Their back meets his chassis as they cling to his arm plating, seeking stability. 

They moan louder with each thrust of his digits, one hand covering their mouth as they try to keep quiet. They grind down against his digits, soft pleased falling from their lips. 

"Sir, please, more," they call out desperately, Their body craves the intensity of Tarn's touch, yearning for the fulfilment that only he can provide. 

He can see the anticipation in their body, and a prideful Pur leaves him as he leans over their body to whisper in their ear. “Sweet thing” As Tarn retracts his digits, the human lets out a whine of longing. A cry escapes their lips as he presses them down onto the desk, arranging their body for his own viewing. Their chest pressed firmly against the cool surface, their hips lifted by one of Tarn's servos, positioning them just as he desires. The Decepticon moves with a sense of purpose, standing to open his interface panel. 

"Such a willing little plaything," he murmurs, his words laced with a mixture of dominance and possessiveness. "You crave my touch, don't you? You ache for more, for the pleasure only I can give you." His voice drips with confidence, knowing the effect his words have on them. His voice seemed to make them melt under his touch so easily. 

 "Yes, only you Tarn" they call out desperately, Tarn relishes in the whines and sobs that escape his human's lips, their body arching into his touch as their desire intensifies. The sound of their pleasure fuels his own, a dark satisfaction coursing through him. As he presses his spike against their back, he can feel their body tremble in anticipation, knowing the length that will soon be buried deep within their pliable, soft form.

A "Yes," he growls, his voice dripping with possessiveness and authority. "Only me, my little plaything. Only I can give you the pleasure you crave, the pleasure you need." His words are a command. Leaning in closer, his hot venting breath tickling their ear, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "You're mine to use, to take, to mark. I'll make you scream, make you beg for release until you can't take it anymore." 

They go silent when he presses into their tight entrance, body shaking lightly while they press their face into the desk. their body trembling under the force of his penetration. The sensation of his spike sinking deeper, splitting them wide open, elicits a mixture of pleasure and pain that leaves them momentarily speechless. their body instinctively reacting to the overwhelming sensations coursing through them.

With each deliberate roll of Tarn's hips, his spike delves further into their depths, claiming them completely. The tightness of their embrace fuels his possessiveness, a primal need to dominate and control. He revels in the slurred moans that spill from their lips, "You're mine," Tarn growls, his voice a low, commanding rumble.

 "Mine to ravage, to use as I please. Your body is mine to possess, to mould to my desires." He cages them in, his grip unyielding, as he continues to thrust into them with a relentless rhythm, driving them to the brink of ecstasy.

Tarn's hips forcefully drag his lover back onto his spike, the intensity of his thrusts mixing pleasure and a hint of his violent tendencies. Yet, despite his darker nature, he strives to be as gentle as possible with them. Growled purrs and snarls escape him as he relishes in the tightness and warmth that surrounds his length.  "You're so tight, so perfect," Tarn rasps, his voice a mixture of desire and awe. "You were made for me, my little One. Your body fits mine like a glove, sheathing me so perfectly." his voice filled with a raw hunger. 

As their orgasm builds up, sobbed moans fall from their lips as tears run down their face. "Tarn, Tarn!" They cry out while clenching tightly around his spike, their orgasm hits hard as they buck back against him. "'Please please!"  their voice filled with a desperate longing for release. Their tight clench around his spike only serves to heighten his own pleasure, pushing him closer to the edge. 

With a cruel smirk, Tarn responds to their pleas, his voice dripping with degradation. "Oh, my little toy, begging for more, are you?" he taunts, "Imagine how you would look, filled and dripping with my transfluid. A perfect mess, marked and claimed by me," he remarks, He continues to thrust into them, driving them closer to the edge, Their sobs and pleas only serve to fuel his own desire, pushing him closer to his own overload. 

As Tarn reaches his overload, his body tenses, and he releases load after load of his transfluid into his little lover. The sensation of his release, coupled with the sight of their bodies joined and the fluid slowly leaking from their connection, fills him with a deep sense of contentment. A low, rumbling pur escapes his vocalizer, a sound of satisfaction and fulfilment 

Looking down at his human's used body, Tarn's optics narrow with admiration. In this moment, he sees them as a perfect embodiment of his desires, a vessel for his pleasure.  "Perfection," Tarn hums, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and possessiveness. To him, their bodies entwined and marked by his transfluid are a testament to his dominance and their submission. They were his and only his, and primus knows he wouldn't be letting go of them. 

[robokisser2000]

Tarn x reader (date night)

______________________________________

It was a rather romantic evening for you and Tarn, a calming one. Tarn took it upon himself to set up a little romantic dinner for you two, to celebrate your conjunx endura bond.

And so far the date was lovely. The engex was smooth as silk as it slid down your intakes chamber, it had a sugary taste that left a good feeling on your glossa. Soft jazz music played in the distance, it resonated off the walls as it served as background music, something tarn chose for the romantic evening.

The table was set up beautifully as well, a truly remarkable gift from Tarns handiwork for the date. Tarn went all out, even setting up a candlelit dinner with dim lighting. The smell of roses and lilac drifted across your senses, wafting about the atmosphere.

Tearing your gaze away from the beautiful candlelit dinner your optics locked with your conjunx’s.

His optics a gorgeous ruby red, the pretty orbs were filled with adoration and oozed with sickeningly sweet love as his optics bore into yours.

Tarn has forgone his mask for the night, now a mere decoration to the side. It’s deep purple glistened in the dim lighting, the mask merely a reflection of your lovers beliefs. His scarred faceplate on display, just for you.

Your conjunx was a truly handsome mech, his chiseled chin all the way up to his dimples and scarred brow. A remarkable mech really, your remarkable conjunx.

He caught your stare and formed a gentle smirk, his optics gaze took in your form. He drank in your gorgeous looks as if it were the finest engex in the galaxy, maybe it was.

He shifted in his seat, propping his helm on his servo as he locked optics with you, not an ounce of shame for being caught staring. 

As the jazz music played Tarn finally spoke, his voice a soft yet gruff whisper, a polite tone; “Ah, darling. Are you enjoying this little.. getaway for us..?”, he asked, rather curious on your opinion on the little date he set up.

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, feeling pleased and delighted by the nights topic. You answered his question, wanting to tease him a bit; “it’s lovely Tarn, truly.”, you answered softly. You caught Tarns chest puffed up with a bit of pride, pleased he delighted you with the lovely dinner.

“Good, that’s lovely to hear, dear.” He spoke softly, love dripping from his tone as he did. 

After a few moments of quiet Tarn spoke again, not minding the lack of conversation but rather wanting to share a dance; “may we.. dance, dear?” He asked, rather sheepish of desiring such a thing.

The question surprised you a bit, you never really.. took tarn as the sappy and romantic type, but then again, how could you ever refuse such a handsome and loving smile..?

You could help the smile tugging at your faceplate, nodding your head as tarn stood from his seat and waltzed over to your seat, he pulled it out and helped you up to your pedes.

He changed the music to something more.. appropriate, the sounds were now slow and sensual for the romantic setting. Now that Tarn was pleased with the music genre he stood in front of you, his once opposing frame now a welcome one.

He shuffled a bit, one servo softly cupped her lower back strut while the other intertwined with your servo, gently holding it as your frames swayed side to side, your movements matched the to the sound of the musics tempo.

Your frames would glide across the cold metal floor of the peaceful tyranny, tarn taking the lead of the dance as he twirled you around, spinning your frame with his digits as you two danced. 

You gently rested your helm on his broad chassis, the two of you close together as your frames swayed with one another. 

As the song slowly came to a end Tarn dipped your frame, the light of the stars of the glass look out alighted your frames, outlining you two as he leaned in for a kiss, his lips soft against yours.

He held you close as your lips danced together, softly swaying. His servo pulled away from yours to cup your chin, further deepening the kiss..

What a romantic night.

______________________________________

Erhm<3 👉👈 I might do a part two

[karanseraph]

Not including the broader businesses which may be restaurants, there are 22 establishments categorized as "bars" in the Transformers Wiki, including among them human and alien locations as well as oil houses.

Earth: 4

Specifically upon the Lost Light: 2

Elsewhere in space: 3

In or near Iacon: 7

Elsewhere on Cybertron*: 5

In Legend's World, which is its own confusing thing: 1

*some of those "on cybertron" could possibly also be in Iacon, as they don't indicate specifically where on Cybertron.

I feel like we need to do better as a fandom and chastise the official media a bit for this. Like, one specific ship has 2 of the known bars!? Iacon has nearly a third of all known bars across known Transformers continuities!?

Like, obviously there's some bias here. There's the possibility that there are more and TF wiki hasn't documented and/or categorized them. There's also the possibility that because more stories in general are set in Iacon more bars have been written as being there.

But still, I think the Jump Joint is the only one specifically said to be in Kaon, and The Proton Blaster is in Damaxus, and leaving 3-ish others for all the rest of Cybertron.

And I know that many many fic writers must have had to do worldbuilding work to place new bars or to establish some of the "on Cybertron" ones as being in a specific city-state.

I had to go and put Luggies in Helex and O'Malleys (AKA ROM Alley Spacebar) in Hydrax plus make up some fictional ones (The Speak Easy in Tarn, The Dive* and Bird Cage* in Vos, NoiseMaze* and The Rainbow* in parts of Unitrex. *arguably some were more broadly nightclubs or cabaret's, but they had bars. And this seems fair, because even Maccadam's is sometimes portrayed as having music and/or dancing.) because when I go to write where the characters decide to refuel there's this dearth of canonical establishments outside of Iacon.

And I suppose some of that is because the war that lasts hundreds or millions of years or stellar cycles (depending on continuity) destroys what economy there once was.

But I feel like we must have had so many writers not speaking to each other and all putting some new cleverly named pub in Iacon instead of spreading things out or using the ones already known.

Like, also, this does not include businesses not categorized as 'bars', like Swindle's, which arguably is a casino...in Iacon?

Are we supposed to think this is intentional worldbuilding and all the 'mudflaps' working on energon farms out in Polyhex Province can't even have their own local bar because they have to ship that much energon to "The Capital"?

[transingthoseformers]

So I'm vividly reminded of the "What if there was a character who wanted to be [faction] but was barred from joining [faction]" post, and tfp au Tarn is somewhat close to being this.

They wouldn't have let him join the Decepticons if he hadn't pleaded and begged enough. And, nobody will ever admit it, even the commanders are scared of him. Tarn has just been so loyal (well loyal up until this point) that they were willing to overlook the immense security risk his Voice was and the rancid vibes. In the TFP au, he came to the Decepticons preinstalled with the DJD, but in this au the DJD had existed before Tarn has, and they kinda just found him in the space woods like a coyote mistaken for a dog.

TFP au Tarn has a much different backstory and origin than what you'd expect. Damus was someone who originally was turned away from the Decepticons , whether it was for a lack of generalistic experience, bad luck, having failed some sort of entrance test (i severely doubt they'd have like a written test, that's not what i mean, I'm thinking some sort of small quest), or hell the Bad Vibes™️ that Soundwave had received but could never put a digit. (Nobody could've guessed Tarn had been Damus, hell nobody knows until the Tarn and Fallen fiasko when he blurts it in a monologue.)

He did not take this rejection. I cannot tell you for sure when Damus became a more recognizable shape, what he had done before fully becoming Tarn, but I can tell you how he was found.

The DJD was a project proposed by Shockwave, one that Megatron has always disliked. It ultimately functioned similar to the Wreckers in the Autobots— do the dirty work that not even Megatron wants to do, and he'll turn a blind eye to their methods. One of the conditions he agreed upon was that they stay away from the frontlines, as they are pretty much the clean up crew for those who have become disillusioned to the Cause. Originally, the ship's crew was the leader Kaon, Tesarus, Helex, Vos, and Prion (their medic, who looks a little familiar...)

They found Damus on a small moon circling a dead planet that had never developed complex life. He was thought to be a mercenary, but no he denied this. The DJD decided that hey this guy who wants to be a Decepticon should be a Decepticon! And dragged him with them. This is when he took upon the name Tarn (the symbolic meaning here in the tfp au is unknown as of yet) There is a possibility that his Voice had influenced this without their knowledge, as exactly nobody had guessed that as a possibility. Though, the DJD soon learned during the brutal disposal of a rogue exactly what Tarn is capable with this "gift". (Remember, in the TFP au outliers do exist but exactly nobody has really discovered this fact. Sometimes mecha pop up with inexplicable abilities and it always freaks everyone else the hell out) At first, they were struck with that instinctive oh-frag feeling, but this faded with the delight of them having a new method in their already rather unconventional repertoire.

Things were... special the next time the Peaceful Tyranny crossed paths with the Nemesis. Megatron was very suspicious of this Tarn, (actually in a very similar way as he was in canon of Predaking once the mech revealed his bipedal mod). But, eventually, he okayed the new addition as he wasn't going to question the DJD's methods. He didn't want to think too hard about what they do, only that they completed the job out of sight. Megatron couldn't afford to lose any more sleep than he already is over this.

Did Megatron call the DJD down to Earth? No, Tarn had tracked Pharma's signal and was delighted to find out his Lord is also on this blue and green planet. If I remember my timelines correctly, they arrived in the smack dab middle of the spicy battlefield dance arc. Meaning, the commanders already had so goddamn much to deal with that they agreed "fuck it, let them do whatever they're here to do, let them take care of the traitors wandering about so we don't have to". The DJD was explicitly told to not interfere with the war efforts, the autobots, or the ongoings of the Nemesis. (Probably in much longer polite and formal words than my synopsis of it)

For a long time, Tarn was considered in a similar manner as he was in canon. A dangerous weapon, but a currently manageable and loyal weapon. Some would say Tarn's loyalty to the Cause and Megatron rivals Soundwave's, others dare to admit that there has to be a catch. That nobody is that loyal without some sort of catch. Especially if that someone enjoys working with the fragging DJD, which among most Decepticons is practically a myth because of how infrequently the Peaceful Tyranny is sighted.

The events of Delphi are very similar as in the au, upon one divergence— nobody finds them. Every autobot except Pharma eventually succumbs to the Red Rust (or the DJD, in Ambulon's case) and Pharma has to find his way off planet. Eventually, he makes his way to Earth.

The rest of the DJD, as we know, was entirely content with these orders and did their own horrific murder thing. Tarn, though? Oh we knew he ultimately basically ignored this and turned his efforts to win his Lord with his winning personality (a lie), pure loyalty (a lie), and charming good looks (kind of a lie but kinda not)— and to find out where that autobot jet had went.

He started seeing the messages from Megatronus Prime a mere fortnight since he arrived on Earth. The Fallen had a reverse sort of reaction to Tarn, at first only seeing him as an easy to manipulate means to an end. After all, once the Fallen got out and destroyed Earth, what would this pathetic sycophant matter? But, as they started interacting more the Fallen ended up letting more and more of his guard down to this mortal. Tarn will not end up betraying Megatronus Prime, even as the reverse happens. This demigod encouraged the wrong mech.

Tarn will not visually see Pharma until further into the truce, pretty damn close in time with when he learns about Silverlight. And well... I've talked about what comes next.

[welcometomybraincomics]

Whiplash

When you were young, you dreamed of going to space. You would spend long nights staring at smudged specks of light dancing on your habsuite ceiling reflecting off the building beside your apartment through your shitty little window, imagining they were stars and dreaming of taking a ship and flying far far away. You'd imagine yourself going on a great adventure, having epic battles with aliens, finding awesome treasures, and coming home hailed some kind of hero.

If you could go back in time, you'd tell yourself not to bother dreaming. Space is just like home: Boring, monotonous, and full of people who think they're better than you. The aliens are stupid, weak little fraggers, the biggest treasure you've found is just enough energon to last a few months, and you're too small a fish for anyone but you to hail a hero.

After several million years, you've learned that life is just like that: monotonous, boring, and full of pompous pricks.

No matter where you go, you have to struggle to survive, and when you're not struggling, you have nothing to do.

You're struggling (Energon is so hard to find out here and the alternatives are shit. You're not getting enough. You're weakening slowly, but the war has dragged on so long, you don't remember what it was like to be healthy anymore), you're alone (they're dead. All your friends are dead. They've been dead for millennia and you still aren't over it. Why aren't you over it?), and you have nothing to do (You have nothing to live for. You went into this war with the promise of better things on the horizon, but it's taken everything you love instead).

You used to love space. Loved the idea of it, loved the small windows of time you had to glance up at its vast opportunities, but the longer you spend out here, the more you begin to hate it.

You'd think not having to look up at your leaky apartment roof every night and imagining light reflecting off scrap was something better would be an improvement, but the neverending blackness of space is just another sort of ceiling.

You're still in a box with nowhere to go, but now the box is bigger and emptier with even smaller habitable spaces. (you can only live on ships now. Ships full of slaggers or planets full of aliens you have to exterminate first. There's nowhere to go. You can fuck off into space and die or live in the shithole barracks. You can fuck off into space and die or live a probably short existence in an Autobot prison. You can fuck off into space and die or you can fuck off into space and live an even shorter existence being hunted for sport by Tarn and his merry band of freaks. There's nowhere to go. There's nowhere to run.)

It almost makes you want to go home, but every time you think about Cybertron, you remember the sound of bombs and the steaming corpses of broken cities and the drying energon wells and bodies upon bodies upon bodies you're not sure you want to try and identify and decide against it. There's nothing to return to, nowhere to run. All you can do is go back to your faction, full of pompous slag heads and creepy aftholes and suck it up until the war ends or you die from it.

You don't have a choice.

Fyi, all the things in parenthesis are things that Whiplash doesn't think about or avoids thinking about

Hehe something something unacknowledged hopelessness fermented into anger something something, like... at least 15% of his issues are his fault. He doesn't actually do anything to try and improve his life, he just stews lol

[rizwan9f]

Title: The Tambular Power Man and the Sex Princess

In the heart of the Tambular Galaxy, where stars flickered like distant candles in the velvet expanse of space, there existed a planet called Lumina. Lumina was unlike any other world in the galaxy, for it was ruled by two powerful beings - the Tambular Power Man and the enigmatic Sex Princess.

The Tambular Power Man, known simply as Tarn, was a being of immense strength and unparalleled control over energy. With his abilities, he could manipulate the very fabric of reality itself, bending it to his will. But despite his formidable power, Tarn was a just and noble ruler, dedicated to maintaining peace and prosperity across the galaxy.

Opposite Tarn stood the Sex Princess, a figure shrouded in mystery and desire. Little was known about her origins, save for the whispers of ancient legends that spoke of her seductive charm and irresistible allure. With her beauty, she could ensnare the hearts and minds of all who gazed upon her, weaving spells of passion and longing.

For centuries, Tarn and the Sex Princess had coexisted in a delicate balance of power, their domains overlapping and intertwining in ways both subtle and profound. But beneath the surface, tensions simmered, fueled by jealousy and ambition.

Click Here

One fateful night, as the twin moons of Lumina cast their silvery light across the land, a great conflict erupted between Tarn and the Sex Princess. It began with a single spark of discord, igniting into a blaze of fury that threatened to consume everything in its path.

Tarn, driven by his sense of duty and righteousness, sought to vanquish the Sex Princess and her wicked influence once and for all. But the Sex Princess, cunning and resourceful, unleashed all her powers of seduction and manipulation in a bid to ensnare Tarn and bend him to her will.

The battle raged across the skies of Lumina, shaking the very foundations of the planet with its ferocity. Energy crackled and surged as Tarn and the Sex Princess clashed in a dazzling display of power and passion.

But in the end, it was neither strength nor seduction that decided the fate of Lumina. Instead, it was the realization that their destinies were forever intertwined, two sides of the same cosmic coin.

In a moment of clarity, Tarn and the Sex Princess set aside their differences and joined forces, combining their powers in a dazzling display of unity and harmony. Together, they forged a new era for Lumina, one where peace and love reigned supreme.

And so, the Tambular Power Man and the Sex Princess became not enemies, but partners in the eternal dance of life, their love illuminating the galaxy for all eternity.

Click Here

[talesfromlissom]

The Day Rodion Went Silent

Summary:

There wasn’t a single person who didn’t stop to look when Rodion went silent.

A03  Come yell at me :)! Buy me a Kofi Extra Support

There wasn’t a single person who didn’t stop to look when Rodion went silent. Not the lower castes and those with no caste, who had already sunk their claws into the ashen streets of Kaon. Nor the middle to high castes stuck firm on the florid bridges of Iacon. 

Rodion was a city of music and art. It was a staple for creation; the energon canals were infamous for the inspirational value they gave its residents. Almost every painter, writer, musician, or other wanted to travel there. 

There were songs about Rodion, saying that you could hear their joyous celebrations ringing through the Lithium Flats. If you were willing to listen for a moment, they would say. All you needed was a moment to hear Rodion sing. 

The people were lively. There wasn’t a day that dancing didn’t happen on the streets, even as the eventual Decepticons stormed the Hydrax Plateau. 

The people sang. They danced, and they laughed and they created all sorts of things to try and speak to anyone who was listening. Some were wiser, realizing they could not reach those who had simply turned off their audials. Some were even wiser and left long before the bombs dropped. 

The leader of Rodion was just as joyous as her city, a white and aqua femme named Armormine. ‘Armor-in-which-is-accepted,’ in the simplest of terms. She fell two days before the assault on the city came. 

“Surrender to the Decepticons?” The femme had asked. She had laughed at the negotiator before her purely out of nervousness. She leaned backward in her chair, a silver cup of engex in her right hand. She was adorned in jewels similar to that color. Treasures that were stolen. 

The Decepticons were not known to be patient then, blinded by anger and the weight of their oppressor's chains. 

“Why would I do that?” 

It did not take long for her to collapse when the bullet went through her processor. The joyous femme slumped in her seat before she had time to finish her sentence. The panic never settled. The voices that once screamed in the song now screamed in terror. 

The city of Rodion wept. There were far too many dreamers there. The dreamers became angry. Unaligned and vile, they took up arms. Any Decepticon within their sight was cut down as if they were nothing more than the paint in which a paintbrush was dipped—a string on a strung guitar or a whispered melody on a piano piece. 

But the people of Rodion were not soldiers. They were not destroyed and rebuilt by the mines of Tarn or torn apart by the horrors of lower castes. They were dreamers—small, fragile things who looked to the stars for answers rather than their own hands. 

Any resistance was struck down swiftly, along with any citizen of Rodion. A high caste mech was a dead mech during these times, and Rodion was crawling with them. 

Rodion had bombs placed upon them within the 3rd day. Canvases burned, and strings snapped. Rodion went silent that night. And the people wept. 

It made sense, then and there, why so many left the planet or the Decepticons. 

Rodion sang of freedom, dreams–and unity. 

When Rodion went silent, it was as if we lost sight of those things. 

Permanently.

[pitifulfortune]

Inktober - Toad

My entry for Day 8 of Inktober - "toad"

You can draw your own version of Tobias the Toad with the instructions on how to draw a toad from Yonderoo.

The Thinker Toad of Tale Tarn

Once upon a time in Tale Tarn, there was a toad named Tobias. Unlike other toads, Tobias had a rare habit of contemplation. He'd position himself atop the grandest stone in the tarn, looking outwards with an intent gaze, his enormous, round eyes capturing the endless heavens.

Animals would often approach him, intrigued by his meditative state. "Tobias," chirped Clara the cricket, "Why do you constantly sit there, lost in thoughts?"

Shifting his weight, Tobias responded, "Have you ever wondered, Clara, why the shadows dance when the wind blows but stay put when it's silent?"

Clara rubbed her antennas together, "Well… no, not really."

One bright afternoon, Benny the butterfly fluttered onto Tobias's back and asked, "What profound thoughts do you have today, wise toad?"

Tobias grinned, "I've been thinking, Benny, if we perceive the world from our vantage point here, is there a realm below that sees things upside-down compared to us?"

Benny, wings fluttering faster with the depth of the idea, just laughed and soared away.

Even the sly weasel, Wendell, tried to outwit Tobias, thinking of a delectable meal. But as he crept nearer, he became engrossed in the toad's reflections. "Do you believe, Wendell, that every step we take might ripple outwards, affecting the universe in ways we can't see?"

Wendell hesitated, tapping his snout. "I… I was just passing by," he said, suddenly feeling too sheepish to admit his earlier plan.

With time, Tale Tarn evolved into a hub of enlightenment and introspection. Creatures from distant lands would trek there, not merely to quench their thirst but to bask in the wisdom of the thinker toad.

And in a world bustling with endless activity, one toad on a stone taught them the beauty of stillness and the power of pondering.

[prime-xample]

Endgame

Rodimus shifted his weight, a look of apprehension on his features as he scanned the derelict building with his binoculars. Beside him, the higher ranking officials of the Lost Light voiced their concerns in whispers. Their plan could go wrong in a number of ways, especially considering the past of their main asset: Tarn of the DJD.

Tarn and Rodimus had a deal. If Rodimus and his crew managed to find the whereabouts of the former leader of the Decepticons, he would share the information with the DJD, and they would come to help.

But Rodimus had been expecting a collaboration of sorts. Field support. He hadn’t expected Tarn to insist on going alone with his teammates, completely leaving the Autobots out of the deal.

“These are Decepticon internal matters.” “You have something important to take care of now.” “You are plan B if we fail.” - The leader of the DJD had argued.

The rest of the Lost Light officers had initially agreed upon the plan, as it only put Tarn and his team in danger. “Decepticons fighting against each other? It’s a win for the Autobots, regardless of the outcome.” - They had said.

Rodimus couldn’t disagree more.

Doubts about their plan and how easily they had agreed to it didn’t take long to arise, though. “What if Tarn betrays us and ends up joining forces with Megatron? His zealotry was legendary, after all.” - They argued.

“Shut up.” Rodimus barked, effectively ending every discussion. “Someone’s coming.”

A tall figure with wide shoulders was walking out of the derelict building, his true identity concealed by the dusty wind of the place.

It took a few agonizing seconds until the dust cleared and Tarn’s unmistakable silhouette became recognizable, soon followed by the differently sized shadows of his teammates.

Rodimus let out a relieved sigh. They all seemed to be okay. But what about their target? Had they managed to kill their former leader?

The Autobots had to wait until the Decepticon elite team had closed the distance separating them to have their answers. Their armor bristled as Tarn and his teammates stopped, just a few meters apart, optics determined, frames covered in wounds and gore. Would they be next on their List?

“I brought you a few souvenirs.” Tarn finally spoke, stepping forward and meeting Rodimus midway between both enemy teams. On the floor, he dropped Megatron’s severed helm, his crushed spark case, and his damaged T-cog, along with a few shreds of armor, charred and partially melted.

“We should really stop by the medbay to see Nickel now before she blows a gasket… but… would you like to hang out this weekend? I still want to see that pole dancing you spoke of.” He said, a smirk in his tone, even as he held a servo to his flank, clearly pressing a bleeding wound, a mix of relief, pride and pain in his EM field.

They had won. They were finally free.

[jeannereames]

How does Alexander's personality change through the series? I've found that depictions of his later life range from showing as a splendid hero to a crazed despot. I'm excited to see your take, and to see how Hephaistion changes as well, and whether those changes bring him and Alexander together or push them apart.

HOW DO I INTEND TO DEPICT ALEXANDER IN DANCING WITH THE LION GOING FORWARD?

Ummm… this might have got long? My apologies. :-)  I threw in some pretty pictures to cut it up?

I tend to see Alexander as a man made by his culture. Macedonian kings were expected to win wars and provide loot. Furthermore, his society named men heroes for prowess in battle and personal bravery, not selfless public service. It was deeply agonistic, with zero-sum competition and a constant need to prove one’s personal excellence (aretē). Such demonstrations brought kleos–fame–and elevated one’s personal timē–honor or public standing. Humility was NOT a virtue, and there were no poor men, only rich men in the making. ;)

Put all that together, inject it with a hefty dose of testosterone, and you begin to understand Alexander (and larger Macedonian society).

Modern attempts to paint Alexander (ATG) as a hero or a villain often depend on modern views of virtue, not ancient ones. We want our heroes to be Captain America, or Frodo Baggins. Good-hearted, honest, humble, sometimes reluctant heroes. They’re driven by a sense of SERVICE, not a desire for KLEOS.

THAT IS EMPHATICALLY AT ODDS WITH ALEXANDER’S PRECHRISTIAN WORLD.

Which makes him a hard sell.

I don’t plan to paint ATG as either hero or villain, in the usual sense. The very last line of Dancing with the Lion: Rise is highly ironic. I won’t repeat it here for those who may not yet have read the second book, but while Alexander absolutely means what he thinks in that moment, it’s a young man’s fancy.

It ain’t gonna be so easy.

Riptide has said they likely won’t publish further in the series, even before the first two came out, because the whole thing is a tragedy, not a romance. The first two books (or really one novel) have a “happily for now” ending, so they were okay with that. But we all know how the story ends.

It’s not a tragedy, however, because Alexander is a megalomaniacal villain. The protagonists of tragedies are called the “tragic hero,” after all.

I want to continue writing him much as I tried to in Becoming and Rise: a human being with flaws and virtues. And as with any tragic hero, the greatest flaws are often overdrawn virtues. Virtue turned inside out.

So again, if you’ve read book two, go back to the novel’s last line. There’s his tragic flaw in all it’s glory. His desire to uphold that, often in the face of serious reality checks, will finally break him in Baktria, where in the name of virtue, honor, and piety, he’ll commit a terrible atrocity that will drive Hephaistion from him for some time. Hephaistion is still loyal to him as king, mind, but he can’t stomach what happens on a personal level. It’s no silly love triangle, situational misunderstanding, or manufactured angst for “drama.” It’s a deep, fundamental ideological clash–the sort of thing that Real Couples face sometimes, and must then choose to accept and move beyond, or acknowledge is irreparable and separate.

Obviously, they’ll get over it. But it’s not immediate. Nor easily. And it will involve a lot emotional blood on the floor, from both of them.

Baktria is the pivot point in the series, where it moves from triumph to tragedy. Things that came together are now falling apart.

Less poetically, Alexander is discovering–post Gaugamela–that “compromise” is the ugly truth of successful politics. I love the line from Hamilton, George Washington to another brilliant, impetuous young man named Alexander: “Dying is easy, living is harder.” Alexandros may want to be Achilles, but Achilles DIED.

In Alexander’s case, “Conquest is easy, ruling is harder.”

Alexander has no plans to die, but he’s going to realize how much of what he thought would be the case about rule…isn’t. And maybe his father DID know a thing or three, after all.

Historically, at the end of his life, Alexander is much less idealistic: shrewder, harder, less trusting, and more pragmatic. Just look at his appointments at the beginning and in his last two years. Early on, he’s inclined to put the former ruler back in charge, as long as that ruler surrendered to him, and add a garrison. After returning from India, he discovers how many of those men (and some garrison commanders too) betrayed his trust. So he kills the lot and reappoints…virtually all Macedonians (and a few Greeks).

This is the opposite of Tarn’s “Brotherhood of Mankind” (which was enshrined in Renault’s The Persian Boy, and picked up as well by Stone’s 2004 flick).

This is Macedonian Realpolitik.

It’s also Alexander Disillusioned.

But he’s still not the devil. That’s too simplistic, and too modern. While I greatly admire Brian Bosworth’s scholarship (he was THE Arrian specialist), I disagree with his assessment of Alexander’s career in his 1986 JHS article, “Alexander the Great and the Decline of Macedon,” wherein he ends with, “That was the unity of Alexander–the whole of mankind, Greeks and Macedonians, Medes and Persians, Bactrians and Indians, linked together in a never ending dance of death” (12).

What Bosworth ignores is that nobody at the time would have seen conquest in itself as evil, merely how one went about it. And how Alexander went about it is, actually, a mixed bag. Maybe that’s his problem. He’s not ruthless enough to be admired for his sheer bloody-mindedness (aka, Genghis Kahn), but he did some terrible things, which kinda undercuts the “squeaky good guy” image he wanted to project–and I think genuinely wanted to believe himself to be.

We live in a post-WWI and post-WWII world, where starting a war to take land is sorta frowned upon. Even if Putin, Xi, and Erdoğan Didn’t Get That Memo. But that colors how we read Alexander’s career. We can’t and shouldn’t ignore Alexander’s atrocities, but casting him as a Hitler-esque madman says more about us than him. Alexander was NOT Hitler.

One of the toughest things about doing ancient history is this weird “double think” wherein the historian must UNDERSTAND why ancient people do what they do or think what they think…without necessarily approving of it. THIS IS HARD. It’s really hard. Too often, both professional historians and fans of history either react with modern attitudes and anachronistic critique because they find something so appalling, OR they go so far into the “understand” that they confuse it with “approve.”

Walking that line is what I hope to do, going forward with Dancing with the Lion. There are ways to faithfully show ancient attitudes even while telegraphing to the reader that’s not okay. (Hephaistion often gets used for that, incidentally, both in what’s been published and in what’s coming.)

Back to Alexander…I suspect he was often frustrated with Macedonian pushback, given his need for approval/affection. (That’s one of the key elements of ATG’s character that I think Mary Renault hit dead on the head in her novels.) I also believe he was deeply disappointed in his Macedonian soldiers at times. As noted above, Tarn’s whole “Brotherhood” notion cracks apart when we look at what Alexander actually DID, not what he said in his “Reconciliation Banquet” speech. (Remember, ancient speeches are NOT what anybody actually said, but [maybe] the gist couched as a rhetorical exercise by the authors of these texts … regardless of whether it’s Thucydides’s “Funeral Oration” of Perikles, Arrian’s speech by Alexander after the Opis Mutiny, or Calgacus’s address to his troops found in Tacitus.)

Remember what I said about expectations for Macedonian kings? Win wars and provide loot. Alexander did that with bells on. As I’ve said before, here and elsewhere, he was the Energizer Bunny of Macedonian kings, just kept going and going and going….

Yet somewhere along the way, he decided he wanted to rule what he’d won, not simply plunder it. Opinions about Alexander’s “Persianizing” have waxed and waned. First, it was so tied into the “Brotherhood” concept that after Badian, et al., torpedoed Tarn, ATG was recast as simply a glorified marauder. Yet more recently, the pendulum has begun to swing back, pointing out that, rather than some ideological notion, perhaps it was pragmatic?

Alexander was a very smart man. He understood that to rule this new united kingdom he’d created, he had to get creative. I think he also, quite genuinely, LIKED some of Persian culture. IMO, there are two basic types of people. Those who see something different, regard it with fear and suspicion, and run away or denigrate it. Then there are those who see something different and regard it with curiosity and run towards it. Alexander was (I think clearly) the latter type.

Yet many of his soldiers were not. They belonged to the former type. Plus, they’d been conditioned to think of themselves as conquerors, masters, etc. They’d proven their superiority on the battlefield. It’s the most simple sort of ethnocentrism: the “schoolyard bully” type. We beat you, so we’re better than you. They didn’t hold with Alexander’s myth-infused notions of conquest. To be honest, I don’t think Alexander held with them after Baktria. But I do think he understood that if he wanted to become Shah-han-shah of Persia, he couldn’t squash the Persians (and everyone else) under his heel.

IMO, too many modern historians are inclined to elevate the objections of Alexander’s soldiers, as if they are somehow pure of motive while Alexander isn’t, and he’s betraying them. That’s buying into ancient narrative bias. Let’s recast the whole thing in the modern era.

I see certain parallels between Alexander’s Macedonian soldiers and the red-hat wearing mobs at Trump rallies, terrified of the “browning of America” and convinced of their own cultural (and racial) superiority. The more diverse Alexander’s army became, the angrier his Macedonian troops got. One of the breaking points behind the Opis Mutiny was the emergence of the “Epigoni,” The mixed-race and Iranian boys trained in Macedonian arms. That INFURIATED the rank-and-file Macedonians. How dare Alexander share the sacred trust of Macedonian military might with Those People (who we just conquered and so, must be inferior to us)?

Reframed so, I think it easier to get beyond ancient pro-Hellenic source bias.

This is definitely something I’ll be playing with in the novel. It will NOT be “the poor, benighted troops are being mistreated by Ruthless Alexander.” But it also won’t be, “Alexander can do no wrong, and his men have no legitimate beefs.”

Life is NEVER that clear-cut.

NUANCE is all. And in the end, Alexander’s own virtues: his creativity, his ability to think outside the box, his insatiable desire to succeed, and his need to at least appear to be honorable…all these things will be his undoing.

(PSA: I reserve an author’s right to change my mind as I go forward and see how the series unfolds, but at least at present, this reflects my intentions, and some details aside, I think the gist will stay true.)

[crystalconjunx]

This may be pretty specific but how about Tarn and Bot S/O dancing and there’s some suggestive undertones to the dances?

Tarn/Reader

Working with the DJD was more often a curse than a blessing. When their interests aligned with whatever Decepticon forces were already involved with the mission, they often took it upon themselves to take charge. They were often as much a dangerous variable as they were a powerful asset.

You and your squad were chasing some mechs who had destroyed a neutral installment and killed several members of your team. They worked for a Decepticon-turned-neutral-bandit that was next on the DJD's list. Tarn met you outside the bandit's base and you followed his lead.

Nobody refused the DJD's help.

Nor did they refuse a direct invitation to the Peaceful Tyranny. Not if they wanted to live, anyway. You ordered the rest of your squad to remain planetside while you accompanied Vos and Helex to their ship. 

Tarn was waiting for you in his quarters with two glasses of high-grade in hand and the Empyrean Suite playing low overhead.

You accept one offered glass from the triple-changer and take a sip. You doubted he was above poisoning a mech, but you knew he preferred to do things much more slowly.

Besides- offending the leader of the DJD has been the final mistake of many well-meaning but unprepared Cons.

"I make sure to review the performances of every mech I work with when I go planetside, Y/n." He began. "But before we get to that, I wanted to ask you: do you dance?"

You inwardly flinched at your own surprise. Tarn always had an angle. You should have known better than let him catch you off-guard.

"Not often, sir." You answer carefully, setting the glass back down. "I don't have the time."

"No time like the present to learn. Here," he said. "Give me your hand." He ordered, reaching out his servos in a polite gesture. "And please, call me Tarn. Sir is too formal for mechs with our backgrounds."

You take his hand and the music above you gets a little louder. 

"Ah," he says, "The third movement is my favorite. Sorry for being so forward, I just can't miss out on the chance to dance with such a beautiful mech." He explained. "Especially ones with a reputation like yours."

You moved in step with him as best you could, pedes winding around his as you struggled to keep up with his well-practiced waltz.

He leans close, forcing your arms around him as he speaks soft and low into your audial in a way that makes your spark lurch. "Commander Soundwave has written quite highly of you on his reports. Megatron even personally recommended you to my team should I find myself in need of a new crew member." 

He cast your frame back, pulling your arm up and sending you into a quick spin. You followed through as cleanly as you could, falling back into his arms before he dipped you down. "You're a quick learner, Y/n. If I needed another crew member you'd be at the top of my list."

The hand on your waist drifted lower and lower as he dipped you as low as he could to the dropped crescendo, but before you knew it, you were back on your pedes and pressed into the wall with his arms caging your head.

It was a classic step of the Empyrean Waltz, although he had taken his liberties with how close his hip plating was to yours.  partner against a wall, and they pushed back with a sideways motion.

You tried to push Tarn away and to the side to continue the dance, to no avail. The triple-changer chuckled at your attempt.

He sighed and pulled his arms away, but he didn't back up. "Keep up the good work and you might just be. And don't look so grim!" He laughed. "I'm impressed by your loyalty. Just make sure you remember that Megatron's plan is more important than a few neutral cowards. I'd hate to see your name on my list over something like that." He warned. 

And then he was pushing the glass of high-grade back into your hand.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“It all”)

It all to laugh, never make Time began  entice her—(which I sang whose  lovelorn women in all that hath madden  the who expect, as wreck his  pure as her all were little one  the odour whole floods, ripe fruit no bee  shall made up; the churches have express  how pure, how she is warm white ass back  her who will hurrying, clamour body  and draws a virgins brow, so shorter; sic 

a wife she dang me, ah lette me thus, formica  count of inward him,  I on her eyes when she c ame a male minds, she of hand, sir, I should have  still the West garden grewe, beneath had come  from home sailing pasture-ground, sweet some, except  the priest; shut with the  pious word, you went out. Looking, vacant or  two— saint John there lives. Yes, even at Vivian- place, and like those eyes can say when 

although simulation I think that  sets my prayer, and small people I  had a temperate: rough unknowing,  he wept and my bosom of thou thy  sharp repulse, for any wrinkles still renew  embower veil doth always presence  her—(which not know a sweet bells of  silver press my claim no more been writing  called it.) Before my head like a  robe, and moonshine, of velvet leaning 

as for summer time away the  rain of all well as say,—paint now is  at all. With wonder on all;  thats to bear, a globe, yea world! You think  his still he caught around that:)  you seen the height, but your victorious  mowing we were lives. Pure sprang out  carnival at will bury you, snow, rain, without  end; nor brothers, risen to  the wind blood in life to 

me had to master Colin ranne. All  the blossoms are born by tarn expunge  thy perfumes by that you the happy  love, than when natured mountains, the  swelld and firme loue and left pulse, that  I can containd in them, bleeding  wan and whirl, a ceilings not… dont  even bigger rotted, ever feel Dowagers  for ever want thou now lave them  sweet in the dwarf returned back, 

its vapor done its pacifier. sometime  ere some days. interpreted my whole a  fire, I watch her pretty railway  ran: of light and sitting glacier; frail  at first—they seem to kiss out-went through mossy  skulls that glory in the blood  in love fame or godlike, but love up in  some vial; treasures which I havent  gone, from deafening nought him once  grows. And purblinde was still soon when 

what a torments thou to- morrow I brew my brother ye  together to stop my way; for  that make the deep hae I luvd; love,  yet, heaven and a taste of the  sad account eternal summers  days though a long along whispers throat,  in moss. Who am I? No want to  read; and make it deem my madness:  Tim lying, kind is death do, if 

thousand maids are dance with  his low tract and influence ourselves  the 2-train was left her  choice virtue only thence and height years:  for some might, music and broad, sun- spotted his spight and flew through the  will sen me, O: the  drunken sailor who in his Eyes, and  grame; and the mist of dusky  doors: but thou wreck upon his lifes ocean-cliff, 

and wrung it. Some few steps of Pleasure  filled, distinction to played it is  happiness of solitary glen, who  for a modern quill immortal steps  murmuring on the mart when  find, that only in his flesh liker  and rose and pity, for  the count it up, do—harry out, if  examined, it must attend the  sea, that the large, joined legs and blowing 

alleys, she came. That we shoulder as  long as the valleys, the TV  flickering—doubt, Ive been  absence faire Beauty with her  reason speedy ease all to hell  the  long and so forth: “Descend into  the kings of truth; as  tis their tardy ages; the  wiser Muses; then I thought, there be  subtle to sometime to the 

Earthly worth to yield with  liquor, numb to the fire- balloon rose gem-like innocent flickering creature  spirit in aiding upside  down, to your need” With the  intent my paint soul to me. and  sail, without rest, And does for  days, drafts, carbons, past will stay; you get  a song of cat of two Ifs in  one phrase … children only flowers, the 

fond of memory love to  expiate      my bright of cloud drag inwards, thou,  beauteous seem filled up, tender & I so kindly am  served, I wound as a smallest  pebbles for they are played it quickly  guess by kiss my name, made some sweet dim light  hath loves self, who softly light champ and  sobs, and all it love being cold. Another  womans sure of the and play,  in Truths slumbery pout; just the 

[transingthoseformers]

[Will you still follow me?] au: Megatron and Optimus are reincarnated into humans, Erik and Orion. A team of mecha, lead by Rodimus, soon reveal their existence to them and become close to their old new friends. Though, the secret cannot last forever...

Galvatron: literal hell spawn: So Unicron decided to impregnate Megatron, who upon having a kid out of the blue was so confused because last he checked he hadn't had sex in vorns. Galvatron, who is pretty much the antichrist, represents a new type of transformer: a Unicronian. Hilarious chaos and fun worldbuilding ensues.

Solus!Megatron: Megatron is the reincarnation of Solus Prime, and this has interesting consequences as the original prime's nature twists and turns throughout the war.

JetOp au: directly comes from a more self indulgent plotline of mine, where Optimus has a size kink and because he was so damn tall post prime-ification he had practically given up on it. Queue, Jetfire, the perfect damn opportunity. Oppy the proceeds to get his aft knocked up, because of course he does. Chaos ensues as Starscream and Megatron have bonding time tantrums as of course their exes had to hook up.

Opitarn au or [Walking Through Shards of Glass]: exactly what it says on the tin. Baseline Tarn is transported to the shattered glass universe post-mtmte instead of dying. SG wavewave and the SG decepticons try to help him, and they think they're succeeding, but Tarn flips shit and the SG autobots end up getting him. He falls into this odd dance with the SG autobots and sg Optimus, with the latter flirting in his dogshit creepy way we recognize from FR, and BL Tarn trying his damnest to organize the former in order to be more efficient at unethical torture murder

Onyx Shockwave: Shockwave is the reincarnation of Onyx Prime, and we get to see / question how the formerly kind spark that is Onyx becomes the war crime Georg that is tfp Shockwave

Pornstar Dancing, Megarod addition: what it says on the tin. Megatron and Rodimus record themselves for shits and giggles, and end up wayyy super enjoying themselves. And, as they find out upon posting the vids, so do others. "Ember" ends up knocking up "Treads", breeding / pregnancy kink ensues. Yes that's a reference to one of if not my exact favorite song.

Predacon pax: also fairly obvious. Somehow, Orion/Optimus has secretly been a(n) (unusual) Predacon this entire time, and he n Ratty exactly have been hiding it. He's not allowed to have sex with anyone but whoops did and got gravid, leading to those two butterfly effect-ing their way into a divergent version of TFP, Cliffjumper is alive, and there's baby predacons

[Bells In The Bay Have Rung]: mtmte Rung, post LL, is transported into the bayverse universe somewhere around the start of the first movie. Now, as a therapist who now remembers he's god, he sees the chance to try and make things better himself. First order of business? Abuse his forgettability and steal the Allspark.

So far what we've got from recent shenanigans:

Fractured reflections: baseline mecha are dumped into the SG universe, chaos ensues as the baseline mecha realize quickly just how horrible SG Optimus is. Rodimus and Megatron end up attached at the hip after The Horrors™️. Kinda a mix of g1 and IDW?

shards of stars au: baseline tfp Starscream is dumped into the SG tfp universe and is completely adopted by the shattered glass decepticons. To him all of this sounds too good to be true

Mltfp: transformers prime but also make it my little pony. Optimus is an alicorn prime, Megatron was an earth pony turned into ~something else~ by Unicron. Really fucking dope designs, the Autotrots and the Decepticorns.

Love boat au: Swerve orgy parties end up getting mecha sparked up, Megatron ends up revealing he's had no formal sexual education. Ratchet gives free interfacing courses because these fuckers need them.

💫Bottom bitch💫 Getaway: well what it says on the tin, Getaway gets knocked up by Megatron, consequences occur.

Where sire au: Megatron has a litter and will not tell anyone who the sires are, there's a fucking forum for it and everything.

A Glitch In the Matrix: Glitch accidentally destroys the matrix, ends up leading the quest to find the Knights of Cybertron out of religious guilt. No war au.

Forced Redemption Arc Au: the matrix can slowly but surely turn bad people into good people, it may or may not be IDW Shockwave and we're trying to figure out how his shadowplay factors in.

TFP Through The Glass au: Shattered Glass Optimus (who currently looks identical to BL Optimus) temporarily replaces BL Oppy, and it takes the autobots a bit to realize what has happened. Tfp Megatron finds him super hot actually, BL Optimus returns, and wow is SG OP able to entirely discard the personality mask now

you are/arent the sire au: so IDW no war, Megs is in medical school but Impactor is still a miner. Somehow, these two fuckers got knocked up by the same sire... But did they? Nope! TC and 'Warp, who were both painted as Starscream in an illegal money scheme, did it, and the law things Starscream did it. Paternal test ensues, Star still ends up as beta-sire. Now, sadly to him, these grounders have gotta stay with them.

[decepti-geek]

My dumbass Strictly Come Dancing AU masterpost

So Strictly finally featured a dance to Power of Love a while back! which meant that like a fool, I ran away and started earnestly working on a silly idea I’d been sitting on, and this is the result. Heavy on the cygate, with Rodimus and Minimus as accidental breakout stars, a LOT of Postmodern Jukebox music, and a veeeery haphazard work-in-progress playlist.

The point of this is basically to make people who watch the show giggle a bit, I guess, but also! If anyone has any idea of who would judge/host (cause I got nothin’), or even ideas for extra couples, PLEASE drop by my inbox, and ditto a thousand times over if anyone can think of new song/dance style pairings for any of the couples!!! I wanna Talk about this AU okay, it’s silly and fluffy and it’s been giving me joy for months and hopefully it’ll be fun for people who read it too.

Under a cut cause this got L O N G.

A couple of notes: I’m definitely moving musicals week to much earlier in the competition, since musicals are like, a good 25% of my overall music taste, which doesn’t translate well to only having four or so couples left at that point. And a note about who the minibots get paired with - I know actual Strictly tends to match for height, but I feel like in Cybertronian society that could be taken in… a variety of bad ways, not least perpetuating the idea of former disposables or similar only being allowed to dance with other disposables. So I figure with this one, the system’s a little different (also i just want my OTPs to dance together okay).

This is also, admittedly, more drama-filled than actual Strictly appears to the casual viewer, BUT I know the tabloids make much of the show even if I’m not a habitual tabloid reader.

(And I know I have a lot of charlestons in here, shush, it’s my favourite dance).

So! Thus far, the professional dancers/celebs I have outlined are:

Brainstorm - who, honestly, is basically Kevin. He’s willing to push things a bit further than the others with choreography and concepts, and sometimes he does push things a bit too far and they come out kinda weird to the judges (think the charleston to Cantina Band), but still adored by the popular vote. It makes for an interesting combination when he’s matched with serious, dedicated Jack-of-all-limelights Perceptor, who I see as being a bit like a reverse Brian Cox?? He started out well-known in the academic sector, then made it big as, idk, an actor (in the Mads Mikkelsen vein) and maybe a bit of modelling, and now he’s wound up here (I just realised that a lot of my celebs are more famous than the majority on Strictly tend to be, OH WELL).

They clash a LOT in initial rehearsals, but somewhere along the line Perceptor comes round enough to see that no, he did not get paired with the frivolous pro who doesn’t care about winning - Brainstorm just has a unique way of showing his love for his craft.

Also, you know how every year there's like, one lady pro who sprints over and full on leaps at her partner when he's revealed? Yeah, that's Brainstorm.

I’d like to think they make it to the semi-finals. And I desperately want to say that they have a dance to She Blinded Me With Science (cha cha cha maybe?). Kinda also want to steal Kevin's Doctor Who tango idea that he did this year. I think you could squeeze a quickstep out of End Of The World As We Know It, and then they've got two PMJ songs: a charleston to Final Countdown, and a foxtrot to I Believe In A Thing Called Love. ALSO HALLOWEEN JIVE TO TIME WARP I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

Tarn - who is here mostly so I can have him dance the paso doble to Phantom of the Opera with Pharma. These two are both suuuuper committed to the competitive aspect, enough that they’re willing to put aside their initial, rather drastic ideological differences, although the bickering does eventually eat away at their partnership. They get eliminated about midway through (though they do make it to the equivalent of Blackpool), and subsequently have a brief fling followed by a dramatic split that the tabloids eat up every last morsel of.

Other songs I can see them dancing to include a quickstep or American Smooth to Intermission by Scissor Sisters, a charleston to Crazy In Love (same arrangement as Kevin and Louise’s just, y’know, maybe not Harley/Joker themed), and maaaaybe their rumba is PMJ’s version of Toxic, with possibly a tango to Killer by the Hoosiers.

There’s added tension, too, in that - since I’m trying to look at the ‘celebrity’ aspect in the broader way Cybertronians might, as well - Pharma’s own main professional rival is competing this year alongside him.

Said rival being partnered with Drift, who’s been on the team of pro dancers long enough that he’s undergone something of a shift. It used to be that he got the younger, more… shall we say, visually appealing celebrity dancers, and he’d happily choreograph routines that oozed as much danger and/or sex appeal as the producers called for - to the ire of more than one watching conjunx endura. While he might once or twice have encouraged that to go further behind the scenes in his early days, he’s matured the longer he’s been in the business. Following a bit of a new-age spiritual journey between two seasons of the show, Drift has since come to be regarded as a friendly, experienced face for the not-quite-so-young, nervously inexperienced celebs, though the audience hasn’t exactly been quick to forget his past.

The decision to partner him with Ratchet (physician to the rich and powerful; philanthropist; unflappable, no-nonsense, complete and utter grump) is therefore met with some confusion. This was a calculated move on the part of the show’s producers, though - in the early days of Drift’s run with the series, he botched a lift and came down from it with a pretty impressive sprain. Sparing no expense for their most prized dancer at the time, the best of the best was called in to sort him out.

There was a disagreement in the treatment room, concerning the morality of Drift seducing his latest celebrity partner away from her conjunx, and the resulting shouting match passed into legend among the production crew, even if it was somehow prevented from being leaked to the public. The higher-ups are now capitalising on this, as the whole thing is sure to explode in some sort of direction, and they want the ratings boost that will result once it does.

Except… it never explodes. See, that confrontation with Ratchet was the first half of what led Drift to revise his behaviour. He'd started his dancing career young, with a string of agents, managers, what have you at the beginning encouraging him to believe that there's no such thing as bad publicity, and it didn't matter who he hurt along the way. The fact that someone famed for his straightforwardness and his principles - in a famously cutthroat environment - was now calling him up on that behaviour was enough to make Drift begin to question it. Throw in meeting Wing on a hiking holiday a few years down the line, after a shaky year of competitions and an unexpected early elimination from the show, and he's ready to really start bettering himself.

It showed, obviously, but never so much before now, where Drift is actively trying to prove that he took Ratchet’s words on board. Ratchet is… a little freaked out by the intensity of his conviction to do so, but they work through it and develop one of the strongest working relationships of any on the show.

It takes until after the show to become anything more than a working relationship, because they're both rather shy in their own ways, but when it finally does no one's really surprised anymore.

They definitely dance the jive to Bad Case of Loving You, and I'm entertaining the idea of a Halloween salsa to Jump In The Line from Beetlejuice mostly for the staging potential of the moving furniture, especially the rocking chair and all the jokes to be had from that. :D

And after LL 25… they’ve gotta dance to Easter Parade by Emmy the Great, it’s just perfect for them. I think it’d work best as a waltz, with some editing.

There’s also Skids, whose star rapidly rose and then stayed at the top, upon entering the competitive dancing scene. He was a quick study and he's also a decent teacher, so he gets matched with star comedian Swerve, who has veeeery little confidence in his ability. Although it’s not something he entirely gets over, at least enough to get them both more than halfway, it IS something he sticks at after leaving the competition, and he stays in touch with Skids as well.

Nobody’s ever really sure if their regular meetups post-series are dance lessons or ‘dance lessons.’ (Mostly because Skids is very, very skilled at flying under the radar).

And I d e s p e r a t e l y  want to steal Kellie Bright’s dance to Oom Pah Pah for these two, cause a Viennese waltz set in a tavern is perfect for Swerve.

Lug is one half of the inevitable married pro couple, and I weirdly like the idea of her being matched with Windblade? Not really got any ideas for them on the song front, other than maaaaaybe a charleston to Nowadays from Chicago? but I think they’d make it a good way into the proceedings - they seem like they’d get along well, and Windblade’s got a natural grace to her.

Lug’s wife and partner in crime dance is Anode, who has a similarly capable celebrity student, in celebrated scientist and author Nautica. Unfortunately, these two don’t quite get off on the best foot, and a lot of initial promise becomes a flash in the pan that quickly falls apart. Their routines and skill are still pretty memorable (barring the one bad week that ruined things), even if they don’t make it as far.

They charleston to Magnificent Men In Their Flying Machines because cmon. Nautica’s an engineer and Anode is a literal biplane.

Perhaps surprisingly, I’m chucking Whirl in here as a professional, too - a new hire for this year, viewed by the producers as a bit of a risk - paired up with renowned psychologist and amnesiac deity Rung. The idea I’m running with is that for Whirl, the dancing is basically an outlet post-empurata. It lets him exhaust himself physically and mentally, as long as he completely throws himself into it (and boy does he ever)... so that he can blunt the edge of the hurt he’s still got bottled up. And before he found this outlet, he had a chequered past to say the least, which the media capitalises on immediately, plunging the new guy into the spotlight. The new guy adamantly refuses to be a sob story, or the subject of inspiration porn, and smashes more than one camera to illustrate this point, so all the attention ends up veering towards the negative as a result.

Rung, though - Rung can see, more than anything, that Whirl still needs help, no matter how adamant he might be that he’s found his own balance. Rung’s in this to learn and have fun - and for his faults, Whirl is a decent teacher - but he can never ignore when he sees someone hurting. At first, the most he does is quietly stand up to any stray reporters who come hassling (with the patented I’m-not-mad-I’m-just-disappointed approach), but they do eventually develop a firm friendship, once Whirl realises he’s actually got someone on his side for once.

Rung himself is in a Bad position to do anything more, given that even the three weeks of initial training was time enough to develop something of a bond; so instead, he quietly slips Whirl the number of a younger associate: someone who, he assures Whirl, is coming from a place of experience - not all professional, but personal, too. It takes a while, because well, it’s Whirl, but there comes a point where he approaches Rung looking a little awkward, and thanks him - Krok’s been a great help.

As for the actual competition, Rung’s forgettability and Whirl’s new reputation work against them and they leave fairly early; but every subsequent week sees Rung in the audience to watch Whirl in the group numbers. They take absolutely aaaaaaaages after that to get their shit together, but by the time the next year rolls around, Rung’s position as audience support is official and constant, thanks to his ‘dating one of the pros’ status.

So far, I’ve only got two songs for them: a charleston to Caravan Palace’s cover of Black Betty, and a Viennese waltz to the Waltz of the Hours from Coppelia.

There’s also Jazz, who’s something of a legend even among the pros, mostly for his seeming ability to match up to even the very greatest of pressures. It’s something that’s seen him through to multiple finals over the years, and this year should be no exception…

… Were it not for the slight snag in that Mirage, a Towers noble, is our That One Celebrity; who the public perceive to have had just a bit too much prior dance experience for the competition to be entirely fair. And he’s Jazz’s partner.

I see Mirage being picked on particularly because the Towers upbringing probably does involve some kind of formal dance training. So these two are really, really good, but that unfortunately means they’re just a bit too good for what’s supposed to be a half-amateur contest. A low public vote and a bad dance-off sees them eliminated just shy of the semi-final.

I really can’t explain why, but I’m fixated on the idea of their charleston being a Halloween one, to Remains of the Day from Corpse Bride, and they could have maybe a quickstep (??) to Oh My My by Summer Kennedy (thanks Clara!). They also have the dubious honour of being the only couple I've found a samba song for: another PMJ one, which is Such Great Heights. (I Dislike sambas in general cause they seem so tricky and clunky most of the time, but if anyone can pull one off it’s these two).

And then, Primus love him, there’s Soundwave, who is possibly more experienced, talented and capable than any other pro in the competition, past or present (though Jazz, despite being his usual partner, would dispute that).

Which, of course, means he gets signed up to coach the complete and utter duds. Shockwave was never really going to get far in this, being a former Senator of questionable popularity, and, as Whirl would put it, the token empurata victim. That's all before the fact that he's just… really crap at dancing. Soundwave does his best, but he doesn't exactly have much to work with, and they're eliminated second week. As poor Soundwave has sadly become a bit accustomed to over the years.

In a similar boat for the first time this year is Knock Out - which, at least at first, he is none too pleased about. The guy he gets matched with is technically an athlete - but endurance and strength have never exactly been the mainstream focus of Cybertronian sport, even if they're what Breakdown has in spades.

He also has plenty of enthusiasm and a very earnest desire to try, that Knock Out can't help but be charmed by, even if it's not enough to get them more than about four weeks in. I think it'd be really sweet if these two had an American Smooth to Wouldn't It Be Lovely from My Fair Lady.

Someone who's had a mostly-friendly rivalry with Knock Out while they've both been on the show is Rodimus, who's in that same flashy, pretty vein along with Drift (his professional partner, incidentally), but who's been willing basically from the get-go to take on whoever he needs to season by season.

In short, he's a bit of a wild card, and this year he's been handed the younger (and less famous) of the Ambus brothers. The problem in this particular case is Minimus’ chronic, painful stage fright. Dominus, in his misguided wisdom, thought trial by fire would be good for him, and laid on the peer pressure until Mims agreed, but he is very much a fish out of water at first, and it shows.

The thing is, though - most of his mistakes are a result of nerves, rather than lack of talent. The judges do comment on his natural poise during the traditional ballroom numbers, and for all that Roddy acts dumb, he's shrewd enough to work gradually on bringing Minimus out of his shell, often taking advantage of Mims’ intense focus during rehearsals.

Because he might be shaky on the performance front, but Minimus Ambus has never been known for shoddiness in his work, and doesn’t plan to start now. And Roddy uses that to his advantage - he’ll sneak in extra moves mid-week, while they’re running through a routine, and Minimus will be stood there at the end of it, having just managed something he was obviously capable of, but never would’ve imagined he could be.

A few weeks in, and he’s thriving.

Dance-wise, I'd say definitely a jive to Don’t Stop Me Now, and I like the idea of them having Rebel Rebel for their paso. I want them to make it to the final just so Rodimus can choreograph a showdance to Dare (because try as I might, I just Cannot make it fit one of the usual dance styles. Roddy’s probably had it saved up as the song he WILL showdance to in his first final). I'm thinking as well, an American Smooth to Grace Kelly by Mika cause it honestly fits them really nicely, AND Lost Coastlines could work as a quickstep song I reckon, so let's give it to the first and second in command of the LL! Idk if I Do Adore by Mindy Gledhill has quite the right tempo for a foxtrot, but I think even if it needs a bit of tweaking it’d be really nice. And another potentially really random one, but: charleston to You Give A Little Love from Bugsy Malone (for musicals week?).

Also, they totally cha cha (or maybe salsa?) to Does Your Mother Know, specifically the Christine Baranski version (and they do the Leg Thing from the scene in the movie, you know the one).

As coincidence would have it, Minimus’ own brother-in-law is also a celebrity contestant this year! Rewind has gone from Ambus arm candy to acclaimed filmmaker/journalist in his own right, and for his stint on Strictly he's been paired up with Chromedome. This guy has managed to get himself the nickname ‘Unlucky’, on account that he's fallen in love and subsequently into relationships with not one but three of his previous celebrity partners. There was never any cheating or anything otherwise untoward involved, but things always seemed to end within a year, leaving Chromedome heartbroken and never really up to his best in the show following each breakup. This should have been one such year - after Pivot - except that his new partner is so very sharp and exuberant and just plain magnetic that poor Domey finds himself drawn in regardless.

And I say poor Domey, because as mentioned above, Dominus Ambus is alive and kicking, not to mention in the audience every weekend.

Things get even more complicated when Rewind realises he’s also kinda interested in his new partner - possibly responding to Chromedome’s own feelings, no matter how hard he tries to hide them. They attract more than their fair share of judgemental social media comments, both as a result of things the tabloids dig up and from people speculating that they have a little too much chemistry on the dancefloor. Eyes are also, obviously, on Dominus each week, and he seems oddly impassive about the whole thing - but then, he always has been very guarded about his private affairs. It’s generally assumed that things will come to a head between him and Rewind soon enough, though.

Songs include a salsa to Faster by Matt Nathanson and - is it too on the nose for them to waltz to Memory during musicals week? I also want their charleston to be the PMJ cover of Chasing Pavements.

And this is soooooooooo cheesy, but I really want their rumba to be Unfaithful by Rihanna. THAT one gets a load of media attention, and it's the week following that they bow out instead of allowing the usual elimination process to go ahead.

The twist comes a couple of weeks later, after the media storm has died down; it gets stirred right back up again the moment a photo surfaces of Rewind and Dominus leaving a screening of Rewind’s latest hit… each of them holding one of Chromedome’s hands.

Some say that the reason Chromedome’s partners tended to leave him (until now) has something to do with his continued association/professional partnership with Prowl: a very old flame, but more importantly, a one-mech embodiment of the Strictly Curse.

This guy is a mess, and he gets everywhere: as well as Chromedome, it’s rumoured he was involved with Jazz at one point, and then there’s the assorted flings with his celebrity partners, including the two-year period where he made his way through both members of the same band who signed up for the show in succession... as well as the other four who didn’t.

He’s scary good technically though, and more than a little merciless, so no matter his reputation he usually manages to push his partners quite far into the competition. This year’s offering is scientist Tarantulas, who’s another bit of token representation, for the beastformers this time (my imaginary Cybertronian broadcasting network is apparently not the most progressive).

There’s no polite way to put this: I imagine they’re at each other almost immediately. Both very sharp, and driven, and inventive, and what begins as a glorious meeting of minds in initial training, ends in a quest for the nearest store cupboard. It’s not the most stable of arrangements - sure, Tarantulas is utterly smitten with Prowl’s vision and determination, but Prowl often struggles reining him in and getting him to knuckle down, and tends to resort to leaning a bit too heavily on the personal side of their relationship to get what he wants.  As with Ratchet and Drift, everyone’s on tenterhooks waiting for things to blow up, but somehow they actually reach the final. How long they’ll last beyond that is anyone’s guess.  

These guys have quite a few songs already. Paso to Poison by Alice Cooper (for Halloween week no less, it begins with Prowl trussed up on a giant fake web, and Tarantulas descending from the ceiling in fine accordance with Strictly tradition), jive to Jailhouse Rock, and their rumba is the PMJ cover of Blank Space, it's a Prowl song, fight me.

Also I'd like to think they could manage, like, a foxtrot to Viva La Vida but don't quote me on that. I also like the idea of a tango to Control by Halsey? And they don't have a musicals song yet so now I wanna chuck in a waltz to Sibella from Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder since that's my current obsession.

Elsewhere we have one of the younger dancers, who's been actively mentored by Prowl and has a not-so-friendly rivalry with Rodimus… Getaway!!! (Professional partner: Skids).

He actually goes out in the first week, bless him, through no fault of his own, as for some reason the producers saw fit to match him with Thunderclash. Predictably, this was an unmitigated disaster, and for the PR team it's even more of a problem, as one of the biggest names of this season has been kicked off before the show’s had a chance to begin - apparently, the routine was so bad that even Thunderclash’s fame wasn't enough to save him. For Getaway, it means that he's now hanging around at a bit of a loose end, since he still has to be there for the group numbers. Which gives him plenty of time to cause problems for…

Last but by no conceivable means least, Tailgate! When he joins the professional troupe he seems quite naive and childish, to the point that he’s not exactly taken seriously at first (for anyone who watches the show, think how AJ and his partners get a lot of high school/teen romance themed dances despite him being in his 20s).

THEN in this current series, who should come along but an unlikely celebrity entrant who Tailgate just so happens to be a MASSIVE fan of. Cyclonus is a singer of a… somewhat acquired taste, who’s been talked into this by his agent and is frankly dreading the latin dancing but can manage a tolerable waltz from the get-go. Being the aforementioned huge fan, Tailgate sweet-talks and pulls a few strings behind the scenes to get paired up with someone other than his usual ‘youngest celeb in the competition’.

As is the format of the show, Cyclonus doesn’t find out who his partner is until the ‘introduction’ episode; he’d been hoping for someone experienced and dependable, like Soundwave, so when he finds out the result he has misgivings to say the least. Tailgate by contrast is over the moon (that his scheme worked), and it definitely shows. That nets Cyclonus a bit of negative attention right out of the gate - he’s here looking all stoic and uptight and serious while Tailgate’s practically bouncing with joy, and words like ‘ungrateful’ and ‘stuck up’ get floated around social media a lot. (Although his painfully awkward expressions do become a bit of an ongoing meme).

(The expressions thing is also a problem during performances cause like, the whole serious, intense semi-glare works perfectly for a tango or a paso, but that shit will not fly in a waltz or a cha cha, and boy do the judges let him know it).

Tailgate, for his part, is a little surprised to discover how very reticent Cyclonus is, even in rehearsals. He’s dedicated enough to learning the routines, and quite adept at the performance aspect mostly thanks to his already strong connection to music, but trying to get even a word of small talk out of him is like trying to get blood from a stone. Tailgate takes it in his stride though, and chatters enough for two people to compensate.

It doesn’t take him long to suss out that Cyclonus isn’t entirely happy to be here, and he responds to that in a similar way, scheduling in little things to do together in their breaks and taking care at first not to push Cyclonus too far outside his comfort zone choreography-wise. He also, slightly misguidedly, tries to encourage the idea of them hanging out with his own professional partner… said partner, unfortunately, being Whirl, who manages to get right up Cyclonus’ nose.

(Those two have more success hitting it off when Cyclonus walks outside on a break, only to witness Whirl tearing the latest loitering photographer a new one. From there, it’s a weird kind of forged-in-strife bond, as they realise they’re about the only two people in these studios who actively flee media attention when it appears).

(Cyclonus has found some kind of storeroom that he uses as a bolt-hole in the event of said unwanted attention; Whirl absolutely sniffs said bolt-hole out, and proceeds to mercilessly bug him on his breaks).

Obviously, Cyclonus can’t fail to be touched by Tailgate’s efforts, and his easy kindness - though again, obviously, he’d never admit it. And thus begins the saga of the judges’ glowing comments, week by week, on Cyclonus’ performance skills (despite the face) and the evident chemistry they have while they’re dancing… only for Cyclonus to clam right the fuck up the moment the music stops. The way he acts during the rehearsal segments says a lot, though, even if he barely speaks during them.

Basically, they’re the couple where my mum would be watching them shrewdly each week, nodding and going “He’s head over heels, look.” and we, her dense af family, would reply “You what???”

So this whole thing continues to (very) slowly gather momentum for several weeks until.... Enter Getaway!! Who is salty that not only was he eliminated so very quickly, but also that literally all of the press attention went to Thunderclash, leaving him hanging around completely uselessly until next year. He decides to worm his way back into the limelight by stirring up some Drama, and sets his sights on poor Tailgate as his target.

What he doesn’t expect, however (and neither does Cyclonus really) is that his meddling almost pushes Cyclonus to quit the competition altogether - not feeling like he deserves or has anything to offer to Tailgate, but also unwilling to stay and watch all this bullshit unfold, especially now that the media’s caught wind of it. Unfortunately, Cyclonus’ misgivings get into the rumour mill somehow, and by the time Tailgate hears about them, his partner has apparently already handed in his notice. He then drops Getaway like a hot potato and goes running off to quit himself (because really, these two are both disasters), and it’s up to Whirl to drag Cyclonus out of the storeroom where he’s been brooding and get these two to actually talk, goddammit!

Aaaaaaand once that’s sorted, they’re still terribly awkward about pretty much everything. But! They’re getting there!!! By the time they reach the semi-final they’re the centre of plenty of gossip, though there’s no proof of anything yet as Whirl is being fucking militant about keeping non-show cameras away from their studio. It’s in the week following that someone finally gets a photo of them: on a break, sat outside, Cyclonus kissing Tailgate’s hands.

Dances! Cha cha to Power Of Love, obviously, since that's what kicked this whole thing off. (Am I a terrible person if they jive to Only The Good Die Young?) Then there's a charleston to Boyfriend by Lou Bega, a salsa to I Want You Back, and a rumba to the PMJ version of Jolene, all choreographed post-Getaway.

And I am VERY excited because I've realised they could waltz to Love Like You. They'd also have a Viennese waltz to No One Else from Great Comet in musicals week, and I like the idea of a tango to Devil’s Backbone, and a paso to Coat of Arms by Jonathan Thulin. And possibly an Argentine tango to La Llrona, if it was arranged the way it is in Coco (“Alas, Llrona in sky blue”, I have to, guys. I have to) .

ALSO I'm going to cheat and say that Power Of Love is just one of their regular week dances, since it isn't just from a movie, as I also want a foxtrot to Beauty and the Beast because a) it’s perfect for them and b) mandatory A Day Or Forever reference.

They make it to the final, and showdance to Shrike by Hozier. AND because I am the creator of this au and My Word Is God, I’m hereby declaring that they end up as the winners. So there. :p

And congrats to anyone who actually made it this far!!!! As I said above, please send me ideas for songs, judges, anything, really! :D

[voraciouslyindulgent]

"Tarn, Tarn, would it be okay to dance now? We're, uh, still friends, right?"

“I would prefer that you do not obsessively pester me into dancing with you. Why you enjoy a reluctant partner when you have plenty of willful ones continue to baffle me. Honestly, I fail to see how you deem us friends.You run away upon topics I wish to discuss, and seek me out only when there is something you want. What of what I want? You offer me nothing of note, yet you expect me to cater to you. I am not a charity, Smokescreen. If you cannot give me anything of value, I see no justifiable reason to allocate to you my time.”