Hello Transformer Prime fans! I read a lot of fanfiction between Starscream/OC, Megatron and daughter, Starcee and Megatron/Arcee. However, I felt I could bring something new to the picture. So here is my first Transformers Prime Fanfiction.

DICLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS PRIME! ALL RIGHTS GO TO ORIGINAL WRITERS, PRODUCERS, ETC. ALSO, THIS MAY HAVE SOME SHADOWHUNTER ASPECTS TO IT SO I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THAT! THE SHADOWHUNTER WORLD BELONGS TO CASSANDRA CLARE!

I own my OC!

Enjoy, review, and share! –The White Huntress.

Summary:

Crystal is many things: a Nephlicon, a princess, a warrior, a nerd, oh and a fatherless femme. She attends Kaon High Academy, said to be the best learning facility in the city, but to her it is The Pit on the surface of Cybertron. The routine of school, bullying, training, and searching for her father never ends until three Seekers come, the smartest of them captivated by her. Starscream can't believe he has found an angel in Kaon. She is everything he could want from a femme, even if she is a triple changer. He wants to know her more. But will she let him in or push him away? (Starscream/OC)

My Own Pit: Kaon High Academy

Crystal's POV

I can describe my life in four words: A fragging Pit hole.

Granted, my creator and I are well off and our house is very nice and very large compared to some. Ok, it's the family mansion that she and her brother were raised in, and my grandparents before. There are nine rooms, the master belongs to my mom and the second biggest room is on the third floor "tower". Also known as my room, more on that later.

My father is an interesting case. I was only a couple orns old when my father disappeared, no, was taken away by the ever "glorious and fair" Council. Again I will elaborate more on that later.

Now my life at home is fine and is one of the only safe havens in Kaon that I feel I can be open, free, and me. My creator is cool, my family (don't ask) is very supportive, caring and crazy, and I can be free on the Starblazer Family estate.

It is my school and social life that is a living Pit.

I am a senior (thank Primus) at Kaon High Academy. I am the Queen of Science Nerds so that doesn't improve popularity. I am also in all other advanced classes. I have other nerds surrounding me, but they do not have the offsetting looks like I do.

I am considered a "triple changer" (again, I will explain later). I have two middle size jet wings (that are curved downwards like an arc) sprouting from my back, and two wheels on each leg. My paint job is also considered sparklingish. My face plate is silver and my helm is baby blue with two white stripes that are on top of my head but are parallel with my eyes. My frame is mostly white, baby blue, and some silver. My chasis is silver, my arms, legs, and wings are baby blue with medium sized white stripes outlined with bright silver stripes. I look less mature than my age when I am probably more mature than most of the bots and femmes in my class.

The rich chic femmes of the Academy, the popular group, or as I call them, the rich glitch plastic femmes are my torturers at the school. Ever since I entered Kaon High Academy, they made it clear that they hate me. Every day, they tease me, verbally abuse me, and prank me because I am not "one of them".

I am not "one" of any group at school to be honest.

My creator has tried to help, but it has only been worse. I have learned to just stick it out, keep to yourself, and the daily routine will be less horrific.

Today was no different.

I woke up to my alarm at 5:00 vorns in the morning. I rolled onto my side, shut the damn alarm off, and got up to use the washracks. After a quick shower, dry off, and decent wax and polish (Megatronlous's Special Femme Scent), I look over in the mirror. I have a decent chest size, a defined but not complete hourglass figure, and I am tall for a femme. But what I thought was my best (and sometimes my worst) feature were my white optics.

Now if you look really close, you can see they are a mix of really light purple and really light blue. I got the most jokes for weird eyes and eyesight.

Anyway, I walk down the two flights of stairs into the kitchen were my creator is making breakfast. She always does it because she works late and doesn't see me until after the evening meal. I love her.

I can see why my sire fell for her. She is a "triple changer" like me, but she has a very noticeable chest, hourglass figure, and is a little taller than me with long legs. Her helm is pink with gold stripes on the top and sides and her faceplate is a clean white with beautiful dark blue optics. Her chasis was dull silver/gray but had two parallel blue stripes running down the sides. Her arms and legs were pink with bigger golden stripes in the center outlined by two thin light blue stripes, the same on her wings. Her name is Vision, but she will always be my Mother.

She looked up at me from the breakfast she was making and smiled. "Good morning, sweetspark." she said. "Morning, Mother." I answered in my groggy voice, "I didn't see come home last night. Late night project?" I asked curiously even though I was still tired. She nodded, "Yes. I am so sorry I didn't call you. But Steelbox wanted me to finish writing my song then and there." If I forgot to mention it, my mom is a famous singer in Cybertron. She toured in her younger days and the first few months after she met my father. Now she performs in Kaon and our home town (again later), because she says it's close to Father and she wants to keep me away from the paparazzi. She also wanted to raise me away from fame, which fine by me.

It is actually thanks to Mother's career that she has the money to send me to "the best, safest, and equal learning Academy in all of Cybertron." I weren't a nerd; I would have asked to be transferred long ago.

Anyway, after Mother served my morning energon with tin toast (yummy!), I grabbed my data pads from the living/common area and subspaced them, I was ready to leave. Mother called out, "Have a good solar cycle Crisie!" She always said that even though it rarely was a good solar cycle. I shouted back, "I'll try!" Translation: Try to get through the day as quickly as possible.

Now, since there had been a lighting storm last night, most would be sleeping in incase the cleanup crews were still working. The bots at my school are mostly automobile bots. We had Seekers but they left for Vos after a major fight (it involved many fisted servos, spilled energon, and a Calculus problem, so don't ask). I can fly so can get to school and my first class faster and easier. It is also easier to avoid the crowded halls and my tormentors.

I walked off the front porch onto the driveway/runway, jumped into the air and transformed into my Cybertronian jet. My wings were curved being the sparklingish baby blue with white stripes on the edges outlined in silver, and they emerged halfway up my plane "body". My "body" was thin, curved, and basically had the same color outline as my wings but the underbelly and parts of the top was shiny silver.

I flew through the air, enjoying the quiet of the city, minus the few early jets that I saw most days. The air after the storm smelled clean and sweet, but I knew that when I landed it would smell of burned metal. 45 clicks later, on the southern edge of Kaon, I landed at on the front runway of Kaon High Academy. They really to open their optics soon to how this doesn't look like a safe and equal academy, because it still looks like a torturer insane asylum. Then again, it kind of is. The school was designed to look regal and prosperous, and it did. Regal and prosperous for a psychopath. It had one large tower in the center, the Astronomy tower, and two smaller towers on the other opposite ends, East and West. The rest of the building was 3 stories high but went back about 1 mile but the grounds were 10 miles by 10 miles. Oh, and did I mention that only the exterior classes have windows?

Doesn't sound lovely? And I was right about the smell.

I walked in to the Main Entrance Hall (or as we students call it the "ME" Hall), typed in my student ID and set out for my 1st class. And it was only 6:15 vorns in the morning. Since I am a senior, I can come earlier than required, have access to the science facilities, and leave the school at 13:30 (1:30 in the afternoon for the nonmilitary people) vorns in the afternoon. My first class, Calculus, started at 6:30. I know, it's early, but I am somewhat of an early bird, meaning I am fully awake between 6 and 7 and ready for the rest of the day.

I sat down in the middle chair of the first row of the class and saw my teacher, Professor Blackout (which some bots joked that because his class was so boring, students "blacked out" from boredom.) writing the day's homework and lesson. I actually found his teachings enjoyable. 6:25 like every day, the other nerds and some seniors that were on parole, (part of punishment though I don't see why) poured in. Luckily, the plastic glitches are too dumb to be in this class or any other advanced class.

They can only get to me at lunch, the hallways, Music Masters, and fitness.

The first bell sounded- BEEP! BONG!BEEEEEEEEP!- and the rest of the class took their seats in the upper rows behind me. (Sorry, I just wanted to point out that the classroom looks like a college class room like you see in movies. Ok back to the story.)

"Good morning students." spoke Prof. Blackout. "I hope you have your smart processors with you because you will be learning a very complex equation system that was the key to solving the energon mining epidemic; the Cubix Theory." Most of the class groaned because that meant lots of homework, but I was pumped. This was one of the equation systems I had been yearning to learn, but not the top one on the list. Some other nerds leaned forward with me, desperate to learn the secret. Blackout looked pleased at us and smiled at us. "Well, I'm glad some of you are interested. This discovery shaped history! I spoke to your History and Log mentor, Prof. Alpha Trion, and you will be studying this event in his class." More groans were heard in the back, but I nodded in showing I understood the logic. Honestly, they believe everything will simply come to them. Fraggards.

Prof. Blackout set his face into lecture mode (as I called it anyway) and began to drone out the lesson. I took all the notes, adding a few of my own, and was actually done with the homework just as the bell sounded again for the end of class at 7:15.

I basically did the same for my other class 2nd and 3rd vorn (History, and Science & Engineering). Alpha Trion is ok, but he is also the Head Record Keeper in Iacon. That makes him a little sketchy to me. Just like Prof. Blackout had told us, Alpha Trion recounted the days of the Great Kaon Mining Epidemic. Our assignment: write a research data pad entry on how Cybertron would be today had Solarglare not discovered the Cubix Theory. I was halfway through when the bell sounded again at 8:05. (We have 5 clicks of hallway time to get to the next class.)

Science and Engineering: my favorite class of the day. I love science and technology, designing new prototypes, and figuring out how everything on this planet works.

Our awesome teacher, Prof. Hacker (I'm not joking, that is his name.) is a Seeker. His wings are dark green with black outlines, his body is black with white and bright green racing stripes. His model is a bulkier Cybertronian jet (Take Soundwave's plane, thicken the wings and body but with a tall slanted tail fin on the back).

We were taught how a super hydraulic mining drill is put together and how it can be changed into other tools by simple changes in the design. Sparkilng nonsense to me, for Mother let me take apart and put together tools and appliances when I was 1000 orns old! (Orns=years, and 100 orns= 1 "human" year) Homework: build a new tool and/or "weapon" from the mining drill. I began my blueprints on my Science & Engineering Only data pad, and managed to get them completed by the time the bell rang at 8:55. Now the Engineering part of the class was the first half. The second half was Science only, but it had smaller sections in the class. I am part of the Chemistry group. Since we were all seniors, we basically created "safe" experiments in the class room for the fair at the end of the year.

I focused on creating a solution that would cause even the toughest metal to turn to dust, or a soft glob of slag. I was concentrating on how hot or cold the temperature must be to cause such a reaction. I found that decomposition could only occur at 4500 to 5000 degrees Calvin. Then the bell rang at 9:45 to signal the end of the good part of the day and enter The Pit (at least for me). 4th vorn was Masters Music. I love to sing and play instruments, but the plastics were good singers too, and this hour was the start of their torment.

9:50 vorns in the morning and the bell sounded. The sound that the Pit had set loose its cyberhounds on me and to be prepared. I sat in the second row at the end seat to avoid them as best I could. (This class is set up with individual chairs in 3 rows of 12 chairs) Of course it didn't work. For right as the bell ended, they came in single file. All the mechs turned to look at them in awe and lust, the femmes looked in awe and adoration, and I looked at them with the most disgusted look on my face and the wish I had the courage to beat them all to a pile of slag.

I will describe the four glitches from the least powerful of followers to the leading femme.

Moonracer was a head shorter than me, but still considered beautiful. She had a convertible Bug model, so that means easy curves, no CNA required. She was gray with streaks of white and green flowing down her body. Her face was silver, but not as bright as mine and her optics were a brilliant bright blue.

In fact every one of their optics were that brilliant blue.

She was actually nice to me for the first few days she was here, then fell for the plastics charisma and "charm" (bleh!).

Next we have Stargaze. Yes, she has the mechs staring at her like she was a fallen star (I'm not making a joke, they actually use that pickup line) but she has the loyalty of a cybersnake. She has dated so many guys in the past 3 ½ years (we still have half a year to go before we graduate) that the decent femme nerds and myself can easily call her a slut. Her car model is Cobra (go figure). She is white with a light gray face plate, with the blue optics mentioned above, and has light purple stripes running down her arms and legs.

The third follower of the plastics is Redstar. She is almost as mean as the leader but not quite and has a flare for making men crawl to her, even though she has a boyfriend. She is Lamborghini model, and she already had curves but now they stick out even more. She is a medium red color, with dull silver stripes on her legs and helm, and her faceplate is white with those blue optics. She and Stargaze are just half a head shorter than me, but I know they are done growing in to the next chasis size.

Last, but most certainly not least, is Sunburst. She is the leader of plastics, meaning she is the meanest, cruelest, most deceiving slutty glitch bag you will ever meet. She is my height sadly, and has a perfect hourglass figure, with a Ferrari as her model, and curves everywhere. She has every mech on speed dial in her contacts for her communicator (com. for short), and has had dated every head wrestler on the team. She is a pale "sunny" yellow, with light pink stripes on her arms and legs, and a white face plate making those damned optics stick out even more.

And those are my tormentors. Fun fact: I used to be friends with Sunburst when we were little. But I rather not discuss it.

Did I mention they are all super rich? And they love to rub into my faceplate.

Anyway, I am in my spot, watching their glorious entry, thinking Why is Nightwings always two clicks late? Every day, every month, every year it's the same thing. Because every day, these glitches walk up to me and give me a small verbal battle at the beginning of this class.

They walk towards me, taking the long way to their seats in the middle of the front row. Sunburst faked a sweet smile at me and said, "Look! Its wittle Crwystal. She looks adorable, don't you think girls?" Her voice was like bitter energon, especially when she spoke to me like a sparkling. Redstar smirked, "No," she said in a tone that told the insult was coming in 5…4….3…2…1…,"she needs serious help. I thought she would finally get a new paint job during Cold Wind break. Obviously her slut money isn't paying off."

And there it is. I don't say anything, for I know that this is not the time or place, since Nightwings, the teacher, favors them like they're her own sparklings. Stargaze does a fake gasp of surprise, "You are like, so right Redstar. We should help her." Moonracer nodded, "Perhaps lunch would be a good time?" she said with eagerness, bouncing lightly on her pedes. Sunburst smiled. Not a sweet one, but one that showed her true evil as a glitching Pit spawn.

"Perfect, Moonracer. Now, hurry. We must get to our seats before Nightwings is upset by our absence." Giggling, the fragging glitches left.

Now, I know I could probably take them down but the truth is, I have no courage to do so. I hate the way I look, but if I change how will my life be better?

Just muscle through it and will all be fine. You'll be free one day.

I am used to them calling me a slut, whore, glitch, and other horrid things. I like to think, if I am in a good mood anyway like today, that they are merely describing themselves against a wall. Like Mother said to me once, "Just imagine all their comments are static. And don't waste your breath on replying. Save your intake valves for a time when you really need it."

And I see no reason to change my method now. But if they bring up a very sensitive topic, I don't care how much it costs for funeral arrangements and/or jail bail, those glitches are going back to the Pit.

Anyway, Nightwings, the Music teacher came out. She was a Toyota Carola model and had this weird glittery black paint job. She was covered in that stuff and her chasis was dull gray, as was her face plate and had golden optics. Yes, white optics: hideous, golden optics: cool and pretty. FRAG SOCIETY!

She went through our scales with us and had us sing some little ditties. Then she gave us an announcement that made me excited and sad. "Students, I have decided that this year, we will have a Music Pallooza, where those who have a great music talent can share it in front of the school and your creators." I was buzzing with excitement, I love to sing! But then I saw, or more knew, the plastics smiling in joy of showing off. They seize every opportunity to show off, so even if I did do the Pallooza, I would be forgotten or ridiculed on stage by them.

Sunburst raised her servos, "Nightwings? Is there a limit to how many bots can be in show?" Nightwings looked at her with kindness that made my tanks swim in disgust. She answered, "Yes, only 15 acts will be shown at the Pallooza." Addressing the whole class, she spoke, "I will be holding additions with another teacher and a star guess judge. I will have the data pad up outside my room by the end of the week." (I apologize if I got the Cybertronian term for week wrong, you may correct me and give me more lore about the Transformer Prime dictionary if you all so wish).

Professor Hacker!

I may have a chance. But, I know that one of those glitches or all of them will bribe the celebrity judge and Lady Nightwings.

After that eventfulness, the bell rang at 10:35 and I rushed to get out of there before the plastics got to me. (We have no homework in that class anyway except to practice scales and those small ditties.) I reached my 5th vorn; Lab/Data base access. I picked a table and finished my History data pad entry, managed to get the temperature of slag to form on the most common metal on bots (300 degrees Calvin) and started planning the amount of chemicals I need to test, and made a list of all the tools I need for my engineering project.

I was about to ask Prof. Hacker, the supervisor, about why he was judging the Pallooza when the bell rang at 11:35. Sigh ,why do all the good class go by so fast?

Next came the hour of the Pit: Lunch.

Now , I know what all of you are thinking: How can lunch be bad? Everyone is eating, laughing, and enjoying the freedom without teachers.

Indeed, everyone is doing exactly that. Except me.

Let me break it down for all of you. Here are the facts:

The lunch room has many round tables that can seat 10 big wrestling mechs (and they would still be comfortable) tables and two levels. It is located at the back of the school, and from the hallway, you go through a pair of double doors (all slide open to passersby that checked in that morning) and you walk into a grand hall with 100 foot ceiling with ,a wrap-a-round 30 feet across balcony accessed by side ramps on both sides of the doors. It has huge windows on the back wall (facing west) and a giant skylight dome on the ceiling. Natural light on sunny days, but there are some lights on the stormy days. You can get your energon on the top and bottom level on the left side of the lunch room.

Now the lunch room is broken down in two ways: class and social group. The top level is for freshmechs and sophomores. The outer lower level was for juniors, and the center belonged to us seniors. Lunch was the same hour for everyone, since this was a private school.

Now in each grade section (student established by the way), there were different social groups. The Tech geeks (the bots I can kinda call my friends) sit in the center tables along the right side of the center. The Music special femmes sit in the right corner close to the door. The Jocks take up the center left side tables to the left corner near the doors. The Make-out-happy bots sit in the left corner near the windows. In the middle, near the doors, sit the Fall-outs and Fitness Femmes (odd combo, but it works somehow). The Plastics, of course, sit in the middle of the center area by the windows to make sure they look good from all angles.

Where do I sit? I sit at that extra table found in every grade section. This year it is located in the right corner by the windows. A pretty good spot for peace and quiet, and is away from everyone else. I can see the door from here and pretty much every bot in this lunch room.

However, I sit here alone because I am different in appearance than everyone else (even the Seekers wanted to sit away from me, when they were here). My plagues of "beauty" (the plastic glitches) remind everyone that I am different and no one should be my friend. They make sure I am alone.

It is the Lonely table, the Table of Difference. The Outcast Table.

Lunch was the usual stewed energon. I am not going to go into detail about what the glitches in the middle said to me this period. Short version: I am a slut with no taste in paintjobs. I am ugly. I will die alone. I will never get a guy worthy of society. Blah, blah, blah.

If only they knew who my mother was. They would be crawling over here to see her. And I have more opportunities to get a mech than they know. I am destined to not die alone. Primus, help me keep my cover before I endanger my family.

What seemed like forever and a day (and dodging an energon treat they tried to use to "beautify me" like they promised in Masters Music), the bell rang at 12:40.

Now came the class were they teased me only a tiny bit, because I could do every sport way better than them and most mechs there.

The track was 50ft away from the school on the South side, with a small building for equipment on the East side of the track. The track itself is a 2 mile circle track that has a stadium built around it. You can fit 500 bots in the stands(students and both creators together plus some other relatives). In the middle of the track is the wrestling arena. The floor of the arena can open secret doors to raise equipment for gymnastics. Above the stadium, there are hoops for flying races for Seekers (and yours truly!).

Our coach is Coach Steelbiter. He is a Camero model, with a dark blue paint job and white racing stripes down his arms and legs. He has golden optics, and a gray face plate.

He lets us call him Coach Biter. He is ok, but really tough on us students. "You short energon cakes aren't old yet, so we got to prepare you and your body for anything this planet may through at you!" he always tells us. I swear, the mech is military crazy. He thinks a war will break out in this part of Cybertron any minute.

Anyway, he made us run 2 laps for warm up, then split us up into Femmes and Mechs. His assistant, a femme named Firecracker (orange with yellow and dark red stripes, black chasis, blue optics), was to help the femmes with me practice the gymnastic hoops.

There were eight of us: the plastics (only reason they didn't flunk was because they do cheer and are flexible), a blue femme named Brightnight, a green femme named Cloverstreak, a dark purple femme named Violetstar, and me.

They actually seemed relieved they were put with me and not with any of the plastics. We took turns using the hoops. There were two pairs of hoops on our end of the field, and the plastics were pretty much trying not to break their pedicure-done digits while trying to get up on their set of hoops.

Brainless bunch of scraplets.

After Violetstar got off after doing some pretty cool flips, it was my turn. She nodded to me and whispered, "Good luck. The Glitches are looking at you." I nodded my thanks for the warning. I guess some felt sorry for me, but no one was brave enough to get between the Plastics and their prey: me.

I walked up on the platform and reached up. As soon as the hoops hit my servos, I hoisted myself up. From that height I could see them. They were watching me, and I could see Sunburst starring me down, as if to unnerve me.

One problem, glitch: I have faced far worse. And, Mother has a pair of hoops for me at home.

I told myself that I was just in the yard, doing a small routine for my creator. I smiled, and flipped myself upside down. Then I slowly expanded my arms outwards, till they could go no further and I held it for a click. I could hear my group's breath hitch in their throat, and could feel the wide eyes of the Plastics. I then brought my arms in a little bit and swung right side up again, but I split my legs in a regular split (up and down) and held it. I looked over towards the other hoop ring and saw those four slack jawed and wide eyed.

Take that, glitches.

I did some basic flips then lowered myself to the ground. I felt alive and accomplished. Violetstar, Brightnight, and Cloverstreak beamed at me, and for a moment, I felt wanted and not so alone. Firecracker came up to me and said, "You know, with your flexibility and speed, we could use you on the cheer squad."

I was not a dumbaft. Joining the squad surrounded by the glitching, Pit spawned plastics?! No thank you!

I said, "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think I would really fit in." She looked sad for a moment, but nodded. The bell rang at 13:30. I was free. I don't hang around to use the femme washracks, because it is an easy place for them to catch me.

I raced (in dignified manner until the plastics couldn't see me) to the ME Hall, checked to see that everything important was in my subspace (which it was), checked out my number, and off I was in the sky. My safe ground.

50 clicks later (had to stop and get refueled) I was at home on the porch.

I went in and did my after school routine: snack of an energon treat, wash up, and finish homework in lab (later, I promise to explain later.), then write up some other important slag for a certain Steelbox, and finally, evening energon meal at 18:00 vorns or 19:00 vorns and bed.

Now you see my Pit bound day. However today was actually calm, so tomorrow I expect the worst.

Little did I know that tomorrow would indeed bring worse jaunts, but also my hero and Savior.

So, what did you guys think? I had to interrupt a couple of times otherwise the visuals might have been weird. FYI, I am kind of basing all the Femmes off of how Arcee looks, but she won't be a part of this story. Sorry (not really). Please send reviews and some help on Cybertronian language. It would be appreciated greatly. Hugs!

Crystal: Do I get a hug?

Me: OF COURSE!*realizes height difference* Could I get a boost though?

Crystal: *picks human up* That better?

Me: *hugs thumb digit* much better.