#tfp dreadwing

Soundwave - barn owl (only one where the original bird colors are completely changed. The barn owl has a distinct disc like face, black glassy eyes, and has great hearing, which i thought fit him very well, so that should make up for the color inconsistency)

Megatron - bearded vulture (the bird’s already piercing red eyes matches Meg well, along with the black/greyish feathers framing the face similarly to his helm)

Starscream - peregrine falcon (one of the fastest birds in the world. It has a distinct brow bone and the black/white face matches his helm somewhat)

Knockout - northern cardinal (a bright red bird with a spiked crown and black eyes)

Breakdown - blue indian ringneck (a blue bird with yellow touches, along with a red/orange beak like BD’s face)

Skyquake - great green macaw (a large green bird with red touches and a strong beak meant for crushing, blue wing feathers changed to match the glass of his cockpit)

Dreadwing - hyacinth macaw (a color variant of his twin: blue and yellow/gold)

Airachnid - rook (first considered making her a raven, but the rook’s already white beak matched her face better, plus iridescent/purplish neck feathers)

Introducing you're metal baby to your bots/cons went like:

Y/n: SAY HI TO OUR NEW BABY!~

Bot*Instantly screams in horror*AAAAAH!!?

Cons*Is on top of their berth, pointing at you*

• Lulled by the heat radiating off of his frame and the white noise of his rumbling, you yawn. Aren’t even really watching the movie as one of your legs slides against his hip and you’re too warm and sleepy to be self conscious about using him as a glorified space heater. Cheek on his chassis and eyes closed, this is so much better than cocooning yourself in a blanket and shivering through the night on a corner of his cold berth. Warm and cozy winning out over dignity any day.

• Are you sleeping? Your breathing has evened out, your eyes closed. Hand slowly lifting, his servos brush your nape. Giving in to the urge to sink his servos into your hair as you make a little noise, but don’t stir. Is every inch of you soft? You must be. So fascinatingly different from the feel of living metal and mesh. And he freezes when your eyes open, making him grimace guilty as he pulls his hand away only for you to reach back and catch his wrist. “Don’t stop. Please? It feels nice,” you mumble, face flushing like you’re as lonely for contact and another’s touch as he is. Venting softly, he resumes playing with your hair, servos stroking and your eyes almost close, chin on his chassis.

• You’ll probably be embarrassed about this later. About wanting him to touch your hair, hold you, but it’s lonely here. Rarely ever see another human on the ship so all you have is him. But maybe he’s lonely, too. Always reaching for you then frowning like he thinks he shouldn’t. Makes you realize no other Cybertronians come to visit him here. That he’s usually alone except for you. That for all his growling and grumbling, he might like having you about. Having someone to take care of.