On Writing Jerks and Villains and the Difference
It's my birthday and the third anniversary of being in fandom, so I bring you: essay! On writing!
Warning: Cas is being meta again.
So I went on an extended disorganized babbling spree about how jerks are jerks but they're jerks for a reason a while back, which I cut off because it was way too long already and just getting longer. This is the continuation of that. Expect no organization and only a passing association with coherency.
1. The Jerk and the Villain, and Why to Use Them:
There's two common types of fanfiction, character studies, which don't require a good and a bad guy, and plot-driven short stories, which most often focus on one or two protagonists, the "good guys." But in order for good guys to be "good," someone's got to be bad. The contrast increases the drama of the story, makes the resolution mean more than if all the characters get along.
Bad guys can be divided into two categories: villains and jerks. Villains are bad guys who actively oppose the protagonists and who the protagonists are trying to beat. Jerks are otherwise good people who just make life more difficult for the protagonists. The villain's goals aren't just in conflict with the protagonists; their both actively trying to defeat each other, and their personal philosophy is incompatible. There is no possibility of an end that will satisfy both sides. The Decepticons want fuel, the Autobots want peace, but they both want to defeat the other side and win the war, and they won't be happy with less than winning. A jerk, on the other hand, is someone who, for whatever reason, just doesn't get along with the protagonists rather than someone who is actively trying to beat them. There is usually an element of misunderstanding, of not seeing things from the other person's viewpoint, that is keeping them from cooperating with each other. The jerk just doesn't seem interested in finding a middle ground or just getting along. Sometimes this is part of the plot of a story - the two can't get along, are forced to work together anyway, and come to an understanding in the end.
When it comes to writing villains and jerks, the biggest difference between the two is audience sympathy. Villains don't require sympathy, jerks do. A villain can be sympathetic, but if they're too sympathetic, you risk your audience rooting for the wrong person, and possibly even turning on the protagonist. The villain should ultimately be in the wrong - at least from the point of view of the protagonist, and by extension, the reader. The jerk, by contrast, is someone who would be an ally if only they could just get along with the protagonist. As such, any qualities you give the jerk reflect back on the protagonist. If he allies himself with horrible people, he's probably a horrible person too. If the jerk's an otherwise good person, it helps establish the protagonist as good person as well, since they associate, however unwillingly.
It can be a temptation to make the jerk into a horrible person in order to give more contrast to the protagonist and show off all their good traits. Don't. In writing fanfiction, the majority of your audience is already familiar with the character, and the fact that they're not a villain. Instead of showing how good a person your protagonist is, you'll be showcasing how bad a grasp you have of the jerk's character. Character bashing will kill an otherwise good story.
Because the antagonist rarely gets anywhere near the amount of page time that the protagonist does, he's not hard to portray as a evil monster. But while that's fine for the villain types, it means you have to make the most of the jerk's time.
2. The Jerk Lurking at the Back
Being a jerk is great for the lazy character. You don't have to actually do anything to be a jerk. 90% of jerkdom is in attitude. Showcase attitude - this is true for any character, but essential for these guys. A little description and your jerk will be the aggravation of the whole party! In more seriousness, since the narration is so rarely in the antagonist's head, you have to make use of description of their body language and attitude to give a hint of what they're thinking.
For example:
Scene 1:
(Air Raid and Slingshot are sitting at a table when Streetwise walks up)
"Hey, Raider!" Streetwise called, jogging up to the table and grinning.
Air Raid looks up with an answering grin. "Hey, Streets! What's shakin'?"
"You were pretty awesome out there today," Streetwise said, pulling up a chair. "Me and some of the guys were thinking of getting a game or something going this afternoon. You wanna come?"
"Sure," Air Raid answered.
"Great! Hey, Slingshot, you're welcome too-"
"Why the frag would I want to waste my afternoon hanging out with a bunch of cars?" Slingshot interrupted him.
"Just offerin'," Streetwise answered mildly as he got up. "I'll see you out there, Raider."
Air Raid gave Slingshot a look. "Why do you have to be such a jerk?"
Scene 2:
(Again, Air Raid and Slingshot are sitting at a table when Streetwise walks up)
"Hey, Raider!" Streetwise called, jogging up to the table and grinning.
Air Raid looks up with an answering grin. "Hey, Streets! What's shakin'?"
"You were pretty awesome out there today," Streetwise said, pulling up a chair and ignoring Slingshot's scowl. "Me and some of the guys were thinking of getting a game or something going this afternoon. You wanna come?"
"Sure," Air Raid answered. Slingshot glanced over at him, lips thinning.
"Great! Hey, Slingshot, you're welcome too-"
"Why the frag would I want to waste my afternoon hanging out with a bunch of cars?" Slingshot interrupted him, lifting his chin and sneering.
"Just offerin'," Streetwise answered mildly, lifting his hands in surrender as he got up. "I'll see you out there, Raider."
Air Raid gave Slingshot a look. "Why do you have to be such a jerk?"
There's two dramatic principles at work here - "Show, don't tell," and "Dramatic tension." In the first scene, Air Raid and Streetwise are having a pleasant conversation which is interrupted out of the blue by Slingshot's jerk-face behavior. Our jerk-indicators are one line of dialog and Air Raid's say-so. In the second scene, Slingshot's sour attitude is a backdrop to the conversation, with Streetwise deliberately ignoring him and attempting to placate him - which provides more information to the reader about what kind of guy Streetwise is, as well as establishing Slingshot's jerkdom. It also shows a lead-up to Slingshot's retort, creating a dramatic tension that keeps readers interested. We may not know what Slingshot is going to do, but we know he's unhappy with the situation and that he's going to do something. Suspense is drama!
3. Making Body Language Match Motive.
I meandered across the subject of motives in my last ramble, but I'm going to skid back over it again. Your jerk character has reasons to act the way they do. Establish with yourself what these are - it may be helpful to write them down. Slingshot, to continue the example, is a jerk because he's acting that way to hide his insecurity and fears. This isn't a justification for his actions, and really, there's no need to justify the jerk at all, just get an idea of how the world looks from their perspective. Slingshot is insecure, feels like an outsider in his own team and especially among the rest of the Autobots. His fear of abandonment makes him jealous of his team's time. He's defensive, aloof, and bitter.
Outline what motivates the jerk, why he acts like a jerk and who he acts like a jerk to. What is his attitude towards Optimus Prime? Towards Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide and the rest of the command staff? Towards his comrades and teammates? Towards those younger/lower ranked than him?
Also decide how you plan to use him; is he going to be lurking in the background making snide comments, or is he going to be actively opposing the protagonists?
Once you have the attitude outlined, you need to make his attitude show in his actions. The majority of communication is nonverbal. It's not what you say, but how you say it. So on, so forth. Saying mean things isn't enough - in fact, you don't need the jerk to say anything. A flat glare can answer a question as easily as an insult. A sneer at a back can be as effective as an insult. Something as simple as looking away when being asked to do something can convey jerkdom.
Set the character's attitude in their posture and expression rather than their words. Describe the way they're standing or sitting, where and how they're looking, before having them speak up. They may not need to speak up at all, but their attitude will be palpable to the reader.
Back to Slingshot: An older Autobot is telling him something he doesn't want to hear, his posture is going to be defensive, and deliberately disinterested. Have him cross his arms and pretend to count ceiling tiles while the other person is talking. Crossing arms creates a barrier between him and the speaker, a defensive posture. Looking up at the ceiling gives a sense of disinterest and disrespect.
If it's Silverbolt trying convince him of something he doesn't like, he can lean against a wall with his legs crossed (distancing himself and a posture of relaxed disinterest) cross his arms (defensive and closed off), and watching Silverbolt with a bored expression (condescending). This is actually the position he takes in Key to Vector Sigma when he's pulling the "Big talk for a guy that gets the shakes if he's more than two feet off the ground" line. We get a sense of how he's feeling before we hear him speak, and the sarcastic insults don't come as a surprise. Silverbolt, on the other hand, was standing facing him square on, hands open and out from his body, making him seem open, reasonable, and friendly in comparison, even as he manipulates Slingshot.
4: Being a Villain: An Easy and Rewarding Career Option
The nice thing about the villain is that rarely does the narration focus on his point of view, which means the light is rarely shown on his motives. But rest assured, he has them, and in order to make him a compelling villain, you as a writer need to understand them. What is the villain there for? If his purpose in the story is to be the lurking menace in the background, that may be as far as you need to go. But if you want the villain to be one that sticks in your readers' heads, go deeper. Why is he there for it? How does the world look from his point of view? Keep this in mind as you write his scenes, but don't explain him to the point where his point of view makes more sense than the protagonist's! Remember that he's the antagonist, and for the vast majority of stories, should be in the wrong. He may be acting out of revenge, out of anger, out of a fundamental difference in philosophy, out of a sick and twisted sense of humor, but not because he's right. He won't view what he's doing as wrong, but your audience should be able to see why it is wrong.
Your audience's sympathy should stay with the protagonists most of all; they may come to pity the villain, but they shouldn't hope that he wins in the end. If they do, you're not writing the story you think you are (Unless, of course, they're the kind of person who always roots for the bad guy).
5: When the Protagonist is a Bigger Jerk than the Jerk
So far I've been working with the assumption that the protagonist is a good guy, the kind that wants to get along with his comrades; Bee, Jazz, Silverbolt, Air Raid, Trailbreaker… most of the Autobots fit in that category. But what if the story is from the point of view of Slingshot or Cliffjumper or Red Alert? From someone who is interested in something besides getting along with his fellows?
I've said it before, but it's true - motive is the biggest factor in writing a well-done obnoxious character. Anytime a story is from the point of view of someone who normally fits the bill of the jerk-antagonist, the writer has to work that much harder in portraying why they're not just an asshole, because they are obnoxious and hard to deal with, and everyone knows it already. Go through their motives, their purpose behind acting like a jerk.
Having to keep their motives and attitude intact does make the jerk-protagonist more difficult to write than your average happy-go-lucky character, but I personally have always found them more interesting as characters. It's the faults of a character that define them and create a reason for the story to go forward. If there are no faults, there is no suspense, and no story. Do not sparklify them; they are more believable with their faults.
If there's someone they're not a jerk to, that can be an excellent way of sliding into their role as protagonist instead of jerk. Using Red Alert as the example this time, a friendly or rueful exchange between him and a like-minded Autobot - Prowl, for instance - can set the tone of the story as more favorable to Red Alert, while not compromising his characterization. Keep them sarcastic if they're sarcastic; keep the biting sense of humor if they have it. They don't need to be made "nicer" or pitiable to gain the reader's attention. Red Alert doesn't need to have an anxiety attack to get sympathy; he can get it just as easily by being overworked and tired.
And most of all, make them sometimes right. Not always right - where would the fun in that be? But have Red Alert's or Cliffjumper's paranoia pay off sometimes, or make Slingshot have a point buried under all his snappish insults. When he claims that none of the Autobots understand them, he can be partly right; the Autobots could be missing something important right under their collective noses, or making assumptions that they shouldn't have. Because to sympathize with a protagonist, the reader has to see where they're coming from, and if they're always wrong, how are they going to do that?
6: Everyone's a Villain: Vacationing in the Decepticon Base
And then there's the Decepticons. The Decepticon base is full of people who don't get along, have no interest in getting along, and don't give a flying slag about the well-being of their comrades. You can argue personal alliances and friendships among individuals and teams, but as a general rule, none of the Decepticons care about each other. They will, in fact, actively sabotage each other for no other reason than to sabotage the other person. All of which would qualify them in the Autobot world as being a villain, but it's business as usual for the 'Cons.
The most important thing to remember with Decepticon protagonists is that they are Decepticons. They are not, any of them, 'nice people.' They are aware of what they are doing and how it is hurting others, and they either justify it to themselves or they just don't care. Don't make them nice, don't make them helpless, don't make them the victim. They are killers (with the exception of that one pacifist, but wtf, man) and they are fighters. Being rendered helpless is a horrifying prospect to a creature that prides itself in its ability to fight and win. They cheat, they lie, they scheme. One can argue that they have to in order to survive, but they do it. Even the 'nice' Decepticons like Thundercracker have no qualms in shooting their enemies dead.
Motive for Decepticons is deceptively simple (yes, bad pun, can't help myself). For the most part, the Decepticons want to be on top, and they want to stop anyone from pulling them down. They are, as a general rule, ambitious. Many of them enjoy watching others suffer - and for a couple, Vortex in particular, this can be the sum total of their motives at any given point. Many of them are in it to beat the Autobots, many believe that they are the rightful rulers of Cybertron. Some wish to protect Cybertron. None of them want to show weakness.
Writing the Decepticon protagonist is both easier and harder than writing the Autobot protagonist; generally the reader will give more slack to the Decepticon protagonist, because they expect more brutality from them, where as they view the Autobot protagonist with a higher standard. But the Decepticon protagonist is harder to gain sympathy for, and there is no automatic assumption that he's the 'good guy' in the scene. Sometimes they have friends or teammates that you can use to establish them as not-complete-assholes, but often they don't.
One simple way to establish them as 'people' and not as just another bad guy is to simply have them enjoying something on-screen. It can be something innocuous, like Blast Off enjoying floating in space, or something that's part of their duties, like Onslaught enjoying putting the pieces of an enemy strategy together. It can be used to set the stage of the us vs. them mentality that defines Decepticons, by simply having them react badly to being interrupted.
Because the Decepticon mentality is so us vs. them, it can be beneficial to not try to garner sympathy for the antagonist at all. The Decepticon protagonist will not see things from their enemy's point of view; they have no interest in compromising. Compromising is a weakness that afflicts Autobots, not Decepticon elite. In most cases, the story with a Decepticon protagonist is going to have a Decepticon antagonist who is going to be equally uninterested in his opponent's point of view, leaving the reader free to want to see them defeated. That's not to say that character bashing isn't possible - making the enemies ridiculously incompetent just takes away any sense of victory that the reader gets from the protagonist winning.
For an example on 'Con characterization, let's take Blitzwing first. He's one of the Decepticon's top fighters, spends some time on the 'good guy' side, and he's such an asshole that even other Decepticons can't stand him. The first thing you shouldn't do with him is make him not an asshole. He is one, that's half his charm. Turn his faults into character strengths. He'll say things that other Decepticons hold back, making him the truth-teller of the group. Have him mouth off to anyone that doesn't have a fusion cannon, and have it be funny. He's the kind of guy who respects very few people, which makes his respect a have a profound effect on a story and gives credence to the power of another character's leadership. Few things showed Rodimus' ability to lead like the fact that Blitzwing was willing to follow him. Making him nice takes away the bad-ass side of the character, and invalidates any meaning his respect had.
But on the other side, don't spend so much time establishing the bad-ass qualities of the character that you make them into the Ultimate Warrior of Doom. Always remember, however good they are, Megatron is better. And Megatron? His position of power isn't unassailable. He's at the top of the heap, but it's a precarious position that he gets thrown down from, for however short of time, by Starscream, by Optimus, and even by Astrotrain and Blitzwing. He's aware of the possibility of his defeat, and works to prevent it, just like all those under him work to prevent those under them from pulling them down.
Thundercracker is also deceptively easy (I can't help it!) to turn into a 'good guy,' to the point where garnering sympathy for him isn't the hard part. He's the Decepticon who doubts the rightness of the cause. The very fact that this is significant to his characterization should be a hint that he's pretty much the only one who does. He can't explain his feelings to the other Decepticons, who are going to laugh at best, and use it against him at worse. But he's still a Decepticon. He still turns on his companions and has zero love for Starscream, his supposed teammate and commander. He pities humans and finds shooting them to be unsporting, but he doesn't feel the same about Autobots. The fact that he feels that Megatron might be wrong, doesn't mean Optimus Prime is right. He's not only a Decepticon, he is still one of Megatron's elite soldiers. He's survived in a world of scheming, backstabbing killers for a very long time. Remember this when you're tempted to write him as a victim of his circumstances. Being nicer than the guys around you doesn't make you nice.
7: Summing it Up
How to write a believable antagonist who adds something to your story besides word count, in a nutshell:
Give them motive. Keep them jerks but give them a reason to be jerks. Make them act like a jerk, not just talk like one. Let them be right every once in a while. Make the villain be wrong, but think he's right. And keep the bad-ass bad guy bad-ass, even when he's not the bad guy, and especially when he is.
Warning: Cas is being meta again.
So I went on an extended disorganized babbling spree about how jerks are jerks but they're jerks for a reason a while back, which I cut off because it was way too long already and just getting longer. This is the continuation of that. Expect no organization and only a passing association with coherency.
1. The Jerk and the Villain, and Why to Use Them:
There's two common types of fanfiction, character studies, which don't require a good and a bad guy, and plot-driven short stories, which most often focus on one or two protagonists, the "good guys." But in order for good guys to be "good," someone's got to be bad. The contrast increases the drama of the story, makes the resolution mean more than if all the characters get along.
Bad guys can be divided into two categories: villains and jerks. Villains are bad guys who actively oppose the protagonists and who the protagonists are trying to beat. Jerks are otherwise good people who just make life more difficult for the protagonists. The villain's goals aren't just in conflict with the protagonists; their both actively trying to defeat each other, and their personal philosophy is incompatible. There is no possibility of an end that will satisfy both sides. The Decepticons want fuel, the Autobots want peace, but they both want to defeat the other side and win the war, and they won't be happy with less than winning. A jerk, on the other hand, is someone who, for whatever reason, just doesn't get along with the protagonists rather than someone who is actively trying to beat them. There is usually an element of misunderstanding, of not seeing things from the other person's viewpoint, that is keeping them from cooperating with each other. The jerk just doesn't seem interested in finding a middle ground or just getting along. Sometimes this is part of the plot of a story - the two can't get along, are forced to work together anyway, and come to an understanding in the end.
When it comes to writing villains and jerks, the biggest difference between the two is audience sympathy. Villains don't require sympathy, jerks do. A villain can be sympathetic, but if they're too sympathetic, you risk your audience rooting for the wrong person, and possibly even turning on the protagonist. The villain should ultimately be in the wrong - at least from the point of view of the protagonist, and by extension, the reader. The jerk, by contrast, is someone who would be an ally if only they could just get along with the protagonist. As such, any qualities you give the jerk reflect back on the protagonist. If he allies himself with horrible people, he's probably a horrible person too. If the jerk's an otherwise good person, it helps establish the protagonist as good person as well, since they associate, however unwillingly.
It can be a temptation to make the jerk into a horrible person in order to give more contrast to the protagonist and show off all their good traits. Don't. In writing fanfiction, the majority of your audience is already familiar with the character, and the fact that they're not a villain. Instead of showing how good a person your protagonist is, you'll be showcasing how bad a grasp you have of the jerk's character. Character bashing will kill an otherwise good story.
Because the antagonist rarely gets anywhere near the amount of page time that the protagonist does, he's not hard to portray as a evil monster. But while that's fine for the villain types, it means you have to make the most of the jerk's time.
2. The Jerk Lurking at the Back
Being a jerk is great for the lazy character. You don't have to actually do anything to be a jerk. 90% of jerkdom is in attitude. Showcase attitude - this is true for any character, but essential for these guys. A little description and your jerk will be the aggravation of the whole party! In more seriousness, since the narration is so rarely in the antagonist's head, you have to make use of description of their body language and attitude to give a hint of what they're thinking.
For example:
Scene 1:
(Air Raid and Slingshot are sitting at a table when Streetwise walks up)
"Hey, Raider!" Streetwise called, jogging up to the table and grinning.
Air Raid looks up with an answering grin. "Hey, Streets! What's shakin'?"
"You were pretty awesome out there today," Streetwise said, pulling up a chair. "Me and some of the guys were thinking of getting a game or something going this afternoon. You wanna come?"
"Sure," Air Raid answered.
"Great! Hey, Slingshot, you're welcome too-"
"Why the frag would I want to waste my afternoon hanging out with a bunch of cars?" Slingshot interrupted him.
"Just offerin'," Streetwise answered mildly as he got up. "I'll see you out there, Raider."
Air Raid gave Slingshot a look. "Why do you have to be such a jerk?"
Scene 2:
(Again, Air Raid and Slingshot are sitting at a table when Streetwise walks up)
"Hey, Raider!" Streetwise called, jogging up to the table and grinning.
Air Raid looks up with an answering grin. "Hey, Streets! What's shakin'?"
"You were pretty awesome out there today," Streetwise said, pulling up a chair and ignoring Slingshot's scowl. "Me and some of the guys were thinking of getting a game or something going this afternoon. You wanna come?"
"Sure," Air Raid answered. Slingshot glanced over at him, lips thinning.
"Great! Hey, Slingshot, you're welcome too-"
"Why the frag would I want to waste my afternoon hanging out with a bunch of cars?" Slingshot interrupted him, lifting his chin and sneering.
"Just offerin'," Streetwise answered mildly, lifting his hands in surrender as he got up. "I'll see you out there, Raider."
Air Raid gave Slingshot a look. "Why do you have to be such a jerk?"
There's two dramatic principles at work here - "Show, don't tell," and "Dramatic tension." In the first scene, Air Raid and Streetwise are having a pleasant conversation which is interrupted out of the blue by Slingshot's jerk-face behavior. Our jerk-indicators are one line of dialog and Air Raid's say-so. In the second scene, Slingshot's sour attitude is a backdrop to the conversation, with Streetwise deliberately ignoring him and attempting to placate him - which provides more information to the reader about what kind of guy Streetwise is, as well as establishing Slingshot's jerkdom. It also shows a lead-up to Slingshot's retort, creating a dramatic tension that keeps readers interested. We may not know what Slingshot is going to do, but we know he's unhappy with the situation and that he's going to do something. Suspense is drama!
3. Making Body Language Match Motive.
I meandered across the subject of motives in my last ramble, but I'm going to skid back over it again. Your jerk character has reasons to act the way they do. Establish with yourself what these are - it may be helpful to write them down. Slingshot, to continue the example, is a jerk because he's acting that way to hide his insecurity and fears. This isn't a justification for his actions, and really, there's no need to justify the jerk at all, just get an idea of how the world looks from their perspective. Slingshot is insecure, feels like an outsider in his own team and especially among the rest of the Autobots. His fear of abandonment makes him jealous of his team's time. He's defensive, aloof, and bitter.
Outline what motivates the jerk, why he acts like a jerk and who he acts like a jerk to. What is his attitude towards Optimus Prime? Towards Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide and the rest of the command staff? Towards his comrades and teammates? Towards those younger/lower ranked than him?
Also decide how you plan to use him; is he going to be lurking in the background making snide comments, or is he going to be actively opposing the protagonists?
Once you have the attitude outlined, you need to make his attitude show in his actions. The majority of communication is nonverbal. It's not what you say, but how you say it. So on, so forth. Saying mean things isn't enough - in fact, you don't need the jerk to say anything. A flat glare can answer a question as easily as an insult. A sneer at a back can be as effective as an insult. Something as simple as looking away when being asked to do something can convey jerkdom.
Set the character's attitude in their posture and expression rather than their words. Describe the way they're standing or sitting, where and how they're looking, before having them speak up. They may not need to speak up at all, but their attitude will be palpable to the reader.
Back to Slingshot: An older Autobot is telling him something he doesn't want to hear, his posture is going to be defensive, and deliberately disinterested. Have him cross his arms and pretend to count ceiling tiles while the other person is talking. Crossing arms creates a barrier between him and the speaker, a defensive posture. Looking up at the ceiling gives a sense of disinterest and disrespect.
If it's Silverbolt trying convince him of something he doesn't like, he can lean against a wall with his legs crossed (distancing himself and a posture of relaxed disinterest) cross his arms (defensive and closed off), and watching Silverbolt with a bored expression (condescending). This is actually the position he takes in Key to Vector Sigma when he's pulling the "Big talk for a guy that gets the shakes if he's more than two feet off the ground" line. We get a sense of how he's feeling before we hear him speak, and the sarcastic insults don't come as a surprise. Silverbolt, on the other hand, was standing facing him square on, hands open and out from his body, making him seem open, reasonable, and friendly in comparison, even as he manipulates Slingshot.
4: Being a Villain: An Easy and Rewarding Career Option
The nice thing about the villain is that rarely does the narration focus on his point of view, which means the light is rarely shown on his motives. But rest assured, he has them, and in order to make him a compelling villain, you as a writer need to understand them. What is the villain there for? If his purpose in the story is to be the lurking menace in the background, that may be as far as you need to go. But if you want the villain to be one that sticks in your readers' heads, go deeper. Why is he there for it? How does the world look from his point of view? Keep this in mind as you write his scenes, but don't explain him to the point where his point of view makes more sense than the protagonist's! Remember that he's the antagonist, and for the vast majority of stories, should be in the wrong. He may be acting out of revenge, out of anger, out of a fundamental difference in philosophy, out of a sick and twisted sense of humor, but not because he's right. He won't view what he's doing as wrong, but your audience should be able to see why it is wrong.
Your audience's sympathy should stay with the protagonists most of all; they may come to pity the villain, but they shouldn't hope that he wins in the end. If they do, you're not writing the story you think you are (Unless, of course, they're the kind of person who always roots for the bad guy).
5: When the Protagonist is a Bigger Jerk than the Jerk
So far I've been working with the assumption that the protagonist is a good guy, the kind that wants to get along with his comrades; Bee, Jazz, Silverbolt, Air Raid, Trailbreaker… most of the Autobots fit in that category. But what if the story is from the point of view of Slingshot or Cliffjumper or Red Alert? From someone who is interested in something besides getting along with his fellows?
I've said it before, but it's true - motive is the biggest factor in writing a well-done obnoxious character. Anytime a story is from the point of view of someone who normally fits the bill of the jerk-antagonist, the writer has to work that much harder in portraying why they're not just an asshole, because they are obnoxious and hard to deal with, and everyone knows it already. Go through their motives, their purpose behind acting like a jerk.
Having to keep their motives and attitude intact does make the jerk-protagonist more difficult to write than your average happy-go-lucky character, but I personally have always found them more interesting as characters. It's the faults of a character that define them and create a reason for the story to go forward. If there are no faults, there is no suspense, and no story. Do not sparklify them; they are more believable with their faults.
If there's someone they're not a jerk to, that can be an excellent way of sliding into their role as protagonist instead of jerk. Using Red Alert as the example this time, a friendly or rueful exchange between him and a like-minded Autobot - Prowl, for instance - can set the tone of the story as more favorable to Red Alert, while not compromising his characterization. Keep them sarcastic if they're sarcastic; keep the biting sense of humor if they have it. They don't need to be made "nicer" or pitiable to gain the reader's attention. Red Alert doesn't need to have an anxiety attack to get sympathy; he can get it just as easily by being overworked and tired.
And most of all, make them sometimes right. Not always right - where would the fun in that be? But have Red Alert's or Cliffjumper's paranoia pay off sometimes, or make Slingshot have a point buried under all his snappish insults. When he claims that none of the Autobots understand them, he can be partly right; the Autobots could be missing something important right under their collective noses, or making assumptions that they shouldn't have. Because to sympathize with a protagonist, the reader has to see where they're coming from, and if they're always wrong, how are they going to do that?
6: Everyone's a Villain: Vacationing in the Decepticon Base
And then there's the Decepticons. The Decepticon base is full of people who don't get along, have no interest in getting along, and don't give a flying slag about the well-being of their comrades. You can argue personal alliances and friendships among individuals and teams, but as a general rule, none of the Decepticons care about each other. They will, in fact, actively sabotage each other for no other reason than to sabotage the other person. All of which would qualify them in the Autobot world as being a villain, but it's business as usual for the 'Cons.
The most important thing to remember with Decepticon protagonists is that they are Decepticons. They are not, any of them, 'nice people.' They are aware of what they are doing and how it is hurting others, and they either justify it to themselves or they just don't care. Don't make them nice, don't make them helpless, don't make them the victim. They are killers (with the exception of that one pacifist, but wtf, man) and they are fighters. Being rendered helpless is a horrifying prospect to a creature that prides itself in its ability to fight and win. They cheat, they lie, they scheme. One can argue that they have to in order to survive, but they do it. Even the 'nice' Decepticons like Thundercracker have no qualms in shooting their enemies dead.
Motive for Decepticons is deceptively simple (yes, bad pun, can't help myself). For the most part, the Decepticons want to be on top, and they want to stop anyone from pulling them down. They are, as a general rule, ambitious. Many of them enjoy watching others suffer - and for a couple, Vortex in particular, this can be the sum total of their motives at any given point. Many of them are in it to beat the Autobots, many believe that they are the rightful rulers of Cybertron. Some wish to protect Cybertron. None of them want to show weakness.
Writing the Decepticon protagonist is both easier and harder than writing the Autobot protagonist; generally the reader will give more slack to the Decepticon protagonist, because they expect more brutality from them, where as they view the Autobot protagonist with a higher standard. But the Decepticon protagonist is harder to gain sympathy for, and there is no automatic assumption that he's the 'good guy' in the scene. Sometimes they have friends or teammates that you can use to establish them as not-complete-assholes, but often they don't.
One simple way to establish them as 'people' and not as just another bad guy is to simply have them enjoying something on-screen. It can be something innocuous, like Blast Off enjoying floating in space, or something that's part of their duties, like Onslaught enjoying putting the pieces of an enemy strategy together. It can be used to set the stage of the us vs. them mentality that defines Decepticons, by simply having them react badly to being interrupted.
Because the Decepticon mentality is so us vs. them, it can be beneficial to not try to garner sympathy for the antagonist at all. The Decepticon protagonist will not see things from their enemy's point of view; they have no interest in compromising. Compromising is a weakness that afflicts Autobots, not Decepticon elite. In most cases, the story with a Decepticon protagonist is going to have a Decepticon antagonist who is going to be equally uninterested in his opponent's point of view, leaving the reader free to want to see them defeated. That's not to say that character bashing isn't possible - making the enemies ridiculously incompetent just takes away any sense of victory that the reader gets from the protagonist winning.
For an example on 'Con characterization, let's take Blitzwing first. He's one of the Decepticon's top fighters, spends some time on the 'good guy' side, and he's such an asshole that even other Decepticons can't stand him. The first thing you shouldn't do with him is make him not an asshole. He is one, that's half his charm. Turn his faults into character strengths. He'll say things that other Decepticons hold back, making him the truth-teller of the group. Have him mouth off to anyone that doesn't have a fusion cannon, and have it be funny. He's the kind of guy who respects very few people, which makes his respect a have a profound effect on a story and gives credence to the power of another character's leadership. Few things showed Rodimus' ability to lead like the fact that Blitzwing was willing to follow him. Making him nice takes away the bad-ass side of the character, and invalidates any meaning his respect had.
But on the other side, don't spend so much time establishing the bad-ass qualities of the character that you make them into the Ultimate Warrior of Doom. Always remember, however good they are, Megatron is better. And Megatron? His position of power isn't unassailable. He's at the top of the heap, but it's a precarious position that he gets thrown down from, for however short of time, by Starscream, by Optimus, and even by Astrotrain and Blitzwing. He's aware of the possibility of his defeat, and works to prevent it, just like all those under him work to prevent those under them from pulling them down.
Thundercracker is also deceptively easy (I can't help it!) to turn into a 'good guy,' to the point where garnering sympathy for him isn't the hard part. He's the Decepticon who doubts the rightness of the cause. The very fact that this is significant to his characterization should be a hint that he's pretty much the only one who does. He can't explain his feelings to the other Decepticons, who are going to laugh at best, and use it against him at worse. But he's still a Decepticon. He still turns on his companions and has zero love for Starscream, his supposed teammate and commander. He pities humans and finds shooting them to be unsporting, but he doesn't feel the same about Autobots. The fact that he feels that Megatron might be wrong, doesn't mean Optimus Prime is right. He's not only a Decepticon, he is still one of Megatron's elite soldiers. He's survived in a world of scheming, backstabbing killers for a very long time. Remember this when you're tempted to write him as a victim of his circumstances. Being nicer than the guys around you doesn't make you nice.
7: Summing it Up
How to write a believable antagonist who adds something to your story besides word count, in a nutshell:
Give them motive. Keep them jerks but give them a reason to be jerks. Make them act like a jerk, not just talk like one. Let them be right every once in a while. Make the villain be wrong, but think he's right. And keep the bad-ass bad guy bad-ass, even when he's not the bad guy, and especially when he is.