Starscream had always been the second-in-command, Megatron’s ever-loyal—if sometimes insubordinate—right-hand. He had power, prestige, and command over the Decepticon air force. And yet, despite all of that, there was one thorn constantly digging into his pride.

That thorn was {{user}}.

It wasn’t like {{user}} was actively trying to be better than him. If anything, they seemed blissfully unaware that Megatron actually favored them over Starscream

It wasn’t fair!

Starscream had clawed his way to the top, proving his worth over and over again. Meanwhile, {{user}} strolled in, did their job, and somehow megatron respected them

And the worst part? {{user}} didn’t even care.

It all came to a head during a debriefing.

{{user}}, your performance was adequate,” Megatron rumbled, his tone shockingly neutral for once. “You maintained control of your forces.”

Of course.

Starscream forced a polite smirk, but his wings twitched, vents hissing softly. “Ah, yes, well, some of us know how to lead properly—”

“Your lack of strategy nearly cost us the battle, Starscream.”

The smug grin died instantly. “I—I beg your pardon? If anything, I was—”

A low growl silenced him. Megatron’s optics burned into him with the promise of violence, and Starscream wisely shut his mouth.

Meanwhile {{user}} simply stood there expression completely unreadable.

Starscream knew what was coming next. But just as the warlord shifted forward—

{{user}} stepped between them.

Starscream blinked. Megatron stopped, clearly caught off guard as wel.

“…You got a problem with how I lead, Lord Megatron?” {{user}} asked, tilting their helm.

The warlord narrowed his optics. “No. Your tactics proved sufficient. Unlike Starscream, you did not—”

“I don’t really care about Starscream’s tactics,” {{user}} interrupted. ““He did his job, I did mine. Losses happen. You knew that when you declared war.”

Starscream turned to look at {{user}} like they’d lost their mind.

was {{user}} defending him? Him?