Transformers Galvatron Self Insert (TFP)

It wasn't the call of a leader or the stirring words of a great warlord that brought Thunderblast speeding through the void. It was sheer happenstance—or perhaps fate. She had been adrift for cycles, flitting from star system to star system in search of something. Or someone.

Her scanners had picked up fragmented transmissions by chance: Cybertron restored, a powerful leader risen, and whispers of a name that sent shivers through her circuits.

"Galvatron," she murmured, her tone reverent yet giddy. Her sleek speedboat alt-mode hummed with energy as she shifted course, the star charts lighting up with her new destination. "The greatest leader in Cybertron's history... and the only one worthy of me."

Her optics glimmered with a fervent, almost manic intensity. She wasn't just coming to serve him. No, her purpose was far greater. She imagined herself by his side, assisting his conquests, and—perhaps, in time—earning a place in his spark. The mere thought made her throttle up, pushing her engines to their limit.

The sight of Cybertron nearly made her spark burst. The planet gleamed, its surface unmarred by the scars of war she remembered. Towers of metal rose into the sky, and streams of energy coursed through the rebuilt cities.

"Perfect," she whispered, her alt-mode transforming into her lithe robot frame. "He's done it. He's truly brought Cybertron back."

She landed gracefully in a bustling plaza, her optics scanning the scene. Vehicons moved in precise formations, their gleaming frames a testament to the planet's restoration. The air buzzed with energy, and everywhere she looked, there was purpose and order.

But her focus was singular. "Where is he?" she muttered, her claws flexing with barely contained excitement. "Where's my Galvatron?"

Her optics caught sight of two imposing figures near a massive courtyard. One, dark and gold, exuded a commanding presence—Drachen. Beside him stood a tall, stoic figure with a single glowing optic—Shockwave. Thunderblast's lips curled into a sharp smile. They would lead her to him.

As she approached, her pace quickened, her optics gleaming with excitement. Drachen and Shockwave turned simultaneously, their gazes locking onto her.

"Who is this?" Drachen asked, his tone even but with a faint hint of annoyance.

Thunderblast came to a halt, straightening herself and giving a mock bow. "Thunderblast. I've come to pledge myself to Galvatron."

Shockwave's optic flickered slightly. "And how did you come to this decision?" he asked, his voice cold and analytical.

"Oh, I overheard a little chatter," she said, waving a clawed hand dismissively. "Cybertron restored, a mighty leader rising to power... It was obvious I needed to be here. Galvatron is everything the Decepticons need. Everything I need."

Drachen raised a brow plate, exchanging a glance with Shockwave. "You're... eager," he said, his tone guarded.

"Eager doesn't begin to cover it," Thunderblast said, her voice laced with fervor. She stepped closer, her claws twitching. "He's the strongest, the smartest, the most incredible leader Cybertron's ever seen. I'll do anything to prove myself to him. Anything."

Shockwave tilted his head slightly. "This level of... devotion is abnormal. Perhaps even counterproductive."

"Oh, you'll see," she said, her optics gleaming. "I'm exactly what he needs."

Drachen crossed his arms. "Right. Well, he's in the courtyard. Let's see how this goes."

As they stepped into the courtyard, Thunderblast's optics widened. There he was—Galvatron. The mighty leader of the Decepticons stood in the middle of the space, his armor gleaming under Cybertron's restored light. But he wasn't giving orders or planning an assault. No, he was playing fetch.

Galvatron tossed a massive chunk of metal across the courtyard, and Predaking, the enormous dragon-like Predacon, bounded after it like an overgrown turbo-puppy. When the beast returned, Galvatron patted its head before wrestling it to the ground in a playful tussle.

Drachen leaned closer to Shockwave, his voice low. "I know he's our leader and all, but this is a bit... unexpected."

"Unexpected, perhaps," Shockwave replied, sipping his energon calmly. "However, the interaction likely strengthens Predaking's loyalty. Logically beneficial."

Thunderblast, however, was transfixed. Her optics sparkled with admiration and adoration as she watched Galvatron. "Oh, he's perfect," she whispered, her claws clutching at her chest.

Drachen gave her a sidelong glance. "She's serious, isn't she?"

"Unquestionably," Shockwave replied.

As Galvatron dusted himself off and gave Predaking a final pat, his optics caught sight of the trio by the entrance. He approached, his presence towering and magnetic.

"Drachen. Shockwave. And... who is this?"

Thunderblast stepped forward, dropping to one knee with a flourish. "Thunderblast, my Lord. I've come to join your cause and pledge myself to you."

Galvatron studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're... very enthusiastic," he observed.

"Of course I am!" she exclaimed, rising to her feet. "You're the greatest leader Cybertron has ever known. I'll do anything to serve you, to prove myself worthy of standing by your side."

Shockwave tilted his head slightly. "Such fervor is... unique."

"Intense, you mean," Drachen muttered.

Galvatron smirked faintly, addressing Thunderblast directly. "Very well. You'll have your chance to prove yourself. But loyalty is earned through action, not words."

Thunderblast's optics lit up. "Thank you, my Lord. I won't disappoint you."

---

Predaking's POV:

Something was wrong.

Predaking stood by his Master, watching the new arrival with narrowed optics. She was small—insignificant, even—but her voice grated against his audio receptors. Too high, too excitable.

She was too close.

His snout twitched as he sniffed the air, catching her scent. It was sharp, eager, and unfamiliar. She was different from the others who followed the alpha his master. Too different.

When his master turned his attention back to him, Predaking rumbled softly, nudging Galvatron's arm with his snout. His leader scratched behind his horns, soothing him, but his optics never left Thunderblast.

She was watching master too closely, her optics filled with something Predaking couldn't quite place but instinctively didn't like.

A low growl built in his throat, but stupid master placed a firm hand on his snout, quieting him.

She smiled then, a wide, unnerving grin directed at stupid master.

Predaking's claws scraped against the ground. He didn't trust her.

And he didn't like sharing.

---

The courtyard was quiet now, the metallic ground still scarred from Predaking's earlier game of fetch with Galvatron. The beast prowled the shadows, his massive frame eerily silent for something so large. His optics locked onto Thunderblast, who stood at the edge of the courtyard, her claws fiddling with a piece of debris as she muttered to herself.

She was always there. Always too close.

Predaking lowered his frame, his tail swaying behind him. He didn't trust her, and her constant proximity to Galvatron made his circuits itch. She moved with an unsettling energy, her optics darting around as if scheming.

He growled softly, though not enough to draw her attention. His instincts screamed at him to act, to drive her away. But he held back. For now.

When Thunderblast finally left the courtyard, her steps light and quick, Predaking followed at a distance. His massive shadow stretched over the walls as he crept after her, keeping to the edges of the rebuilt structures. She muttered something as she walked, laughing to herself.

Predaking growled again, a low, dangerous sound. She was trouble. He could feel it in his spark.

He would protect his Alpha.

---

Drachen's Pov;

Drachen stood in the command center, his optics focused on a holographic display of Cybertron's outer defenses. His claws tapped against the console as he reviewed the latest data. Behind him, the sound of footsteps drew his attention. Nightburn, a sleek and silent operative, stood at attention.

"Nightburn," Drachen said without turning around, "I need you to keep an optic on our new recruit."

Nightburn tilted his head, his visor flickering slightly. "Thunderblast?"

"Yes," Drachen said, his voice low. "She's... enthusiastic. Too enthusiastic. I don't trust her motives, and neither does Predaking, apparently."

Nightburn's visor brightened in acknowledgment. "Understood."

"Good," Drachen said, finally turning to face him. "Increase Predaking's energon rations as well. He's been restless, and I'd rather not have him take matters into his own claws."

"Anything else?"

Drachen smirked faintly. "If she does anything suspicious, let me know. Quietly."

Nightburn nodded before vanishing into the shadows of the command center. Drachen turned back to the hologram, his optics narrowing. "Let's hope she's just eccentric," he muttered.

I will protect you creator.

---

Kaon - Location Lord Galvatron's Private Quarters:

Galvatron sat in his private chamber, his optics scanning a series of tactical maps projected before him. Supply lines, defensive formations, and fleet movements filled the holographic displays. His focus was sharp, his mind calculating the next steps in their conquest.

And then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"My Lord!" Thunderblast's sing-song tone echoed through the chamber as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "I've been thinking—what if we name one of the new cities after you? Galvatronia! Doesn't it sound grand?"

Galvatron sighed, his optics dimming slightly as he turned to face her. "Thunderblast, I am in the middle of—"

"Or maybe a statue!" she continued, her claws clasped together. "A bigger one! Twice the size of the one in Kaon! Oh, it would be magnificent!"

"Thunderblast," Galvatron said more firmly, his voice tinged with irritation.

"Yes, my Lord?" she asked, her optics sparkling with anticipation.

"Get out."

Her optics widened for a moment, and then she smiled sheepishly. "Of course, my Lord. I'll leave you to your brilliance."

As she skipped out of the chamber, Galvatron groaned and deactivated the holograms. A moment later, Shockwave entered, his posture as stiff and composed as ever.

"Shockwave," Galvatron said, gesturing for him to sit. "I need to talk."

Shockwave tilted his head. "Your tone suggests irritation."

Galvatron leaned back in his chair, his optics narrowing. "It's Thunderblast. She's... annoying."

"Annoying?" Shockwave repeated, his optic glowing faintly.

"She appears out of nowhere, constantly interrupts my work, and babbles on about nonsense," Galvatron said, gesturing with one hand. "It's as if she has nothing better to do than pester me."

Shockwave regarded him silently for a moment. "Perhaps assigning her a task would redirect her energy. Something productive."

Galvatron grunted. "Productive or not, I need her to stay out of my chambers. Next time she shows up uninvited, I'm assigning her to Predaking's training regimen."

Shockwave's optic flickered, though he wisely said nothing.

---

The grand hall of Kaon's command center hummed with activity, the faint glow of Cybertron's energy conduits casting a soft light over the gathered Decepticons. Galvatron stood at the head of the chamber, his presence commanding the room as his optics swept over his lieutenants. Beside him stood Drachen and Shockwave, their frames exuding calm confidence.

Thunderblast stood among the assembled ranks, her hands clasped behind her back as she watched Galvatron with rapt attention. Despite her typical exuberance, she now carried herself with a sharpness that demanded respect. She knew this was her moment to prove herself, to show she was more than just enthusiastic devotion.

Galvatron's optics settled on her, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.

"Thunderblast," he said, his tone measured. "Step forward."

She obeyed instantly, her movements precise as she came to attention before him. "My Lord," she said, her voice steady.

Galvatron studied her for a moment before speaking. "Your loyalty is... apparent. But loyalty alone does not secure a place in my ranks. It must be backed by action, by results."

Thunderblast inclined her head. "I understand, my Lord."

"Good," Galvatron said, gesturing to the holographic map that flickered to life behind him. It displayed the sprawling aerial city of Stratos Tyrannis, its platforms and spires illuminated in vivid detail. "Stratos Tyrannis formaly know as Vos has been restored as our aerial hub, and the Seekers stationed there require a leader. Someone capable of maintaining order and ensuring their readiness for battle."

He turned his piercing gaze back to Thunderblast. "I am assigning you to this role. Prove yourself worthy of my trust, and you will solidify your place within the Decepticons."

The room murmured with surprise. Drachen raised a brow plate, glancing at Shockwave, who regarded the assignment with quiet intrigue.

Thunderblast's optics burned with determination. "Thank you, my Lord. I will not fail you."

Galvatron's voice hardened. "See that you don't."

---

Location - Stratos Tyrannis Thunderblast Pov:

The skyline of Stratos Tyrannis was breathtaking. Towers and platforms gleamed under Cybertron's light, their surfaces humming with the energy of the planet's rejuvenated core. Seekers zipped through the skies in perfect formation, their sleek frames casting fleeting shadows over the city below.

Thunderblast stood on one of the city's main platforms, her claws gripping a datapad as she reviewed the flight patterns and training schedules. Around her, Seekers gathered, their optics wary. It was clear they didn't quite know what to make of her.

One of them, a crimson-and-silver Seeker named Skyfire, stepped forward, his posture rigid. "Commander Thunderblast," he said, his tone formal. "The Seekers await your orders."

Thunderblast's optics flicked to him, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she smiled, though there was an edge to it. "Good. Let's get to work."

Over the next several cycles, she threw herself into the role with an intensity that surprised even the most seasoned Seekers. She reviewed every training protocol, adjusted flight patterns to maximize efficiency, and pushed the squad to their limits during drills. Her keen tactical mind quickly became evident as she identified weaknesses in their formations and devised strategies to counter potential threats.

During one particularly grueling drill, a squad of Seekers faltered under the pressure, their formation breaking apart mid-flight. Thunderblast, observing from a command platform, activated her comm.

"Skyfire, regroup your squad and reform your line," she barked, her tone sharp. "If you let that happen in combat, you'll all be scrap in a klik."

Skyfire gritted his teeth but obeyed, leading his squad back into formation. This time, they executed the maneuver flawlessly.

Thunderblast's voice crackled through the comm again, this time softer. "Better. Keep that up, and you might actually impress me."

By the end of the cycle, the Seekers' performance had noticeably improved. As they landed on the platform, their frames glistening with condensation from the effort, Thunderblast approached them with a smirk.

"You've got potential," she said, her optics glinting. "But potential doesn't win battles. Discipline does. Remember that."

Skyfire nodded, his optics filled with newfound respect. "Understood, Commander."

As Thunderblast watched the squad disperse, her spark swelled with satisfaction. She had proven herself, not just to the Seekers but to herself. And soon, Galvatron would see her worth as well.

---

Location - Stratos Tyrannis Nightburn Pov:

From a distance, Nightburn observed the scene, his visor dimmed as he blended into the shadows. Drachen's assignment to keep an optic on Thunderblast hadn't been taken lightly, and Nightburn was nothing if not thorough.

"She's... effective," he muttered to himself, his tone tinged with reluctance. Her methods were unorthodox, and her personality grated on him, but there was no denying her results. The Seekers were sharper, faster, and more cohesive under her command.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that her devotion to Galvatron was... too personal.

---

In his chambers, Galvatron paced as Shockwave stood silently by, his optic flickering with quiet observation.

"She's competent," Galvatron admitted, his voice a low growl. "But by Primus, she's insufferable. I can't so much as review a tactical map without her appearing out of nowhere with some grand idea or unnecessary comment."

Shockwave inclined his head. "Her behavior is unconventional, but her effectiveness cannot be denied. The Seekers' performance has improved significantly under her leadership."

Galvatron stopped pacing, his optics narrowing. "I am aware, Shockwave. It's the only reason I haven't obliterated her. But if she interrupts me one more time..."

As if on cue, the chamber doors slid open, and Thunderblast strode in, her optics sparkling with excitement.

"My Lord!" she exclaimed, holding a datapad. "I've devised a new strategy for the Seekers. I think you'll find it—"

"Get out," Galvatron snapped, his voice thunderous.

Thunderblast blinked, her enthusiasm faltering for a moment. "Of course, my Lord. I'll, uh, leave this here for you to review." She placed the datapad on a nearby console and retreated, her steps quick but not without a flourish.

Shockwave watched her leave, then turned back to Galvatron. "Perhaps assigning her additional responsibilities would mitigate these interruptions."

Galvatron grunted, his optics glowing faintly. "Perhaps."

(Two Orbital-Cycles Later)

Galvatron sat in his private chamber, his optics scanning a series of tactical maps projected before him. Supply lines, defensive formations, and fleet movements filled the holographic displays. His focus was sharp, his mind calculating the next steps in their conquest.

And then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"My Lord!" Thunderblast's sing-song tone echoed through the chamber as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "I've devised a new strategy for the Seekers! I think you'll find it—"

Galvatron sighed, his optics dimming slightly as he turned to face her. "Thunderblast, I am in the middle of—"

"It's brilliant, really!" she continued, holding up a datapad. "If we adjust their approach vectors during fleet engagements—"

"Thunderblast," Galvatron said more firmly, though his tone lacked true anger. "Enough."

Thunderblast paused, her optics wide and uncertain for the first time. "My Lord?"

Galvatron shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You are loyal. And your ideas have merit. But you cannot interrupt me every time you have a thought."

"I... I didn't mean to—" she started, but Galvatron raised a hand to silence her.

"From now on," he said, his tone calm but resolute, "take any updates or new ideas to Drachen or Shockwave. They will relay them to me as needed."

Thunderblast blinked, her claws tightening around the datapad. "Of course, my Lord. I'll... do that."

She turned to leave, her steps quick and subdued. But as the doors slid shut behind her, Galvatron allowed himself a quiet chuckle.

"She's persistent," he muttered to himself.

Shockwave stepped into the room, tilting his head as he observed Galvatron's expression. "You find her amusing."

Galvatron turns sharply "How are you even here how do appear out of nowhere it's driving me insane."

Galvatron then shrugged, his optics returning to the tactical display. "She's... unique. But even I have my limits."

---

Bar location - Kaon Nightburn Pov:

The dimly lit bar hummed with energy as Vehicons and PBMs crowded around tables, their laughter and cheers filling the air. The screens mounted on the walls replayed highlights from Galvatron's recent speech, his commanding presence eliciting roars of approval from the patrons.

"To Lord Galvatron!" one of the PBMs shouted, raising his energon cube.

"To Cybertron!" another added, their voices blending into a chorus of celebration.

At the back of the bar, Nightburn sat quietly, his frame blending into the shadows. His visor dimmed as he observed the crowd, noting the camaraderie and high morale. The Decepticons were thriving, their unity stronger than ever under Galvatron's leadership.

Thunderblast She ordered an energon cube and took a seat near the screen displaying Galvatron's image. Her optics softened as she stared at it, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Nightburn's visor brightened slightly as he watched her. She was competent—there was no denying that—but her fixation on Galvatron remained troubling. He made a mental note to report his observations to Drachen.

A pair of Vehicons approached him, their frames swaying slightly from too much energon. "Hey, Nightburn!" one of them slurred. "Why so serious? Come join the fun!"

Nightburn tilted his head, his visor flickering. "Someone has to keep an optic on things."

"Lighten up!" the other said, slapping Nightburn's shoulder. "We've got the best leader in the galaxy. What could go wrong?"

Nightburn's visor glowed faintly as he scanned the room, his thoughts briefly drifting to Thunderblast. "Let's hope it stays that way."

As the bar erupted into another round of cheers and laughter, Nightburn leaned back, his optics scanning the celebration and Thunderblast keeping a Log of everything to pass to Drachen.