#how to school a mech | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heron-knight · 4 months ago

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decided to crack open my skull and pour the contents of my brain onto the keyboard. thought the denizens of tumblr might enjoy it. bon appetite

Mech Pilot Care guide

You never expect it, do you. Even as you see the flashes of pulse-decay fire in the sky, illuminating a scene of violence on the cosmic scale. Planetary defense satellites forming Monolithic structures in the sky, their purpose now revealed as they scatter constellations of destruction across the night horizon, drowning out the stars and replacing them with ones born of death. The oxygen in a ship catching fire and burning away in an instant, a flash of light that marks the death of its crew of hundreds. Even if you take your telescope to watch this spectacle, this war in a place without screams, you still feel profoundly disconnected from it. Even as you see a pilot cleave through a drone hive with a fusion blade, the molten metal glistening in the light of the explosions around it, scattering without gravity to the corners of the universe, even as two mechs dance across the sky, their reactors pouring into the engines enough energy to power the house atop which you sit for ten thousand years, flying in a 3.5 dimensional dance with only one word to the song that can reach across the vacuum: “I Will Kill You.” you don’t feel even the slightest glimpse of what goes on inside their minds. You don’t feel the neurological feedback tearing across the brain-computer interface, filling her mind with more simultaneous pain and elation that an unmodified human could ever experience. You don’t feel it as the pneumatic lance punctures through steel and nanocarbon polymer, the mech AI sending floods of a sensation you could never truly know through the skull and into every corner of the body carried on enhanced nerves for every layer of armor punctured, tearing into the enemy chassis with a desire beyond anything the flesh can provide. Let the stars kill each other. After all, I am safe on earth. No, you don’t expect it when the star is hit with a sub-relativistic projectile, piercing through both engines in an instant. You don’t expect it to fall. You never would have expected it to land, the impact nearly vaporizing the soil and setting trees aflame, on the hill beyond your house, and you would never have expected, beneath the layers of cooling slag, for the life-support indicator light to still be visible.

All the fire extinguishers in your house, your old plasma cutter that you haven’t used in years, and whatever medical supplies you think they might still be able to benefit from. All that on a hoverbike, speeding at 120 kilometers per hour through the valley and up onto the hill, still illuminated by the battle above, unsurprisingly unchanged by this new development. 200 meters. 100 meters. You don’t know how much time you’ve got. It wasn’t exactly covered in school, how long a pilot can survive in an overheating frame. You’ve heard rumors, of course, of what these things that used to be human have become. That they don’t eat and barely need air. That they don’t feel any desire beyond what instructions are pumped directly into their brains. Not so much of a person as much as an attack dog. It’s understandably a bit concerning, as if they are alive, then it’s not guaranteed that you will be. Three fire extinguishers later, the surface of the mech is mostly solid, and the cutter slices through the exterior plating. With a satisfying crunch, the cockpit is forced open, revealing the pilot, and confirming a few of the rumors, while refuting others. Pilots, it seems, are not quite emotionless. In fact, there seems to be genuine fear on its face when it sees you, followed by… a sort of grim certainty as it opens its mouth, moves its jaw into a strange position, and you only have half a second to react before it would have bitten down with all its force on the tooth that seemed to be made of a different material then all the rest.

Your thumb is definitely bleeding, and is caught between a metamaterial-based dental implant, and one containing a military-grade neurotoxin. You’re not sure exactly why you did it. The pilot looks at you for a second, before the tubes that attach to its arms like puppet strings run out of stimulants, and it passes out after who knows how long without sleep. This battle has been going on for weeks already. Has it been fighting that long? Its various frame-tethered implants disconnect easily, the unconscious pilot draped over your shoulder twitching slightly with each one you remove. It’s a much longer ride back to the house. Avoiding having the pilot fall off the bike is the top priority, and the injured thumb stings in the fast-moving air.

An internet search doesn’t lead to many helpful sources to the question of “there is a mech pilot on my couch, what do I do?” a few articles about how easy targets retired pilots are for the “doll sellers,” a few military recruitment ads, and a couple near-incomprehensible legal documents full of words like “proprietary technology” or “instant termination.” However, there is one link, a few rows down from the top-- “Mech Pilot Care Guide.” It’s a detailed list, arranged in numbered steps. The website has no other links on it, just the step-by-step instructions: a quick read reveals that this isn’t going to be easy, but looking at the unconscious pilot, unabsorbed chemicals dripping from the ports in its arms and head onto the mildly bloodstained towel, you come to the conclusion that there’s no other option.

Step one: the first 24 hours.

The first thing you should know is that pilots aren’t used to sleeping. They’re used to being put under for transport and storage, but after the neural augmentations and years of week-long battles sustained by stimulants that would fry the brain of anyone that still has an intact one, they’ve more or less forgotten what real sleep is. If they see you asleep, they’ll think you’re dead, so don’t try to let them stay in your room yet. Once you’ve removed the neurotoxin from the tooth (it breaks easily with a bit of applied pressure, but be careful not to let any fall into their mouth or onto your skin.), start by moving them into a chair (preferably a recliner or gaming chair, as the mech seat is about halfway in between), and putting a heavy blanket over them. Don’t worry, they don’t need as much air as normal humans do, and can handle high temperatures up to a point. This is an environment similar to the one they’re used to. It’ll stay like this for about 12 hours-- barely breathing, trembling slightly underneath the blanket. Feel free to check if it’s alive every few hours, not that you could help it if it wasn’t. It won’t freak out when it wakes up. In fact, it doesn’t seem like they can. Turn down the lights and remove the blanket from its face. It’ll stare blankly at you, trying to evaluate the situation with a brain that’s not connected to a computer that’s bigger than they are anymore. Coming to terms, if you could call it that, with the fact that it isn’t dead. Don’t expect it to start reacting to things for a while yet, give it a couple hours.

It’s been a bit, and its eyes are starting to focus on you. The next thing you should know is this: pilots only have two groups into which they can categorize non-pilots: handler and enemy. You need to work on making sure you’re in the right one. Move slowly, standing up and walking toward them, making sure they can see where you’re going to step. Place both hands on their shoulders, then slide one under their arm and carefully pick them up. Don’t be startled by how light they are, or how they still shake slightly as they realize their arms don’t have anything connected to them. Most importantly, don’t break. Don’t reflect on how something can be done to a person so that this is all that’s left. Just focus on rotating them as if you’re inspecting all the brain-computer interface ports, while holding them at half an arm’s length. Set them back down, wrap the blanket around them, then lean in close and say “status report.” they won’t say anything, as they usually upload the data via interface, but what’s important is that now they recognise you as their handler. Their entire mind will be focused on the fact that they exist now to do what you want. Now it’s up to you to prove them wrong.

Step two: the first week.

They’re shaking so hard that you’ve had to move them from the chair back to the couch, sweating heavily as they pant like the dog they’ve been trained to think they are. This was to be expected, really. Pilots are constantly being filled with a mix of stimulants, painkillers, and who knows what else, and you’ve just cut them off completely. You’ve woken up several times in the night and rushed to check if they’re still breathing, debating whether you should try to tell them that they’re going to be okay. The guide says they’re not ready for that yet, whatever that means. They’re still wearing the suit you found them in, made from nanofiber mesh and apparently recycling nutrients and water before re-infusing them intravenously. It’s been three days since you tore them out of the lump of metal atop the hill outside. Long enough that the suit’s battery, apparently, has run out. You lift them gently from the couch and carry them to the bathroom. The shower’s been on for the past hour or so, meaning the temperature should be high enough. You set them on their chair, which you’ve rolled there from the living room and covered with a towel. Removing the suit normally isn’t done except in between missions, and it’s only done to exchange it for a new one. Without the proper tools, you’ve opted for a pair of scissors. Cutting through the suit takes a bit of time, but you manage to cut a sizable line from the neck down to the front to the bottom of the torso. The pilot recoils slightly from the cold metal against their skin, but you manage to peel off the suit without incident, The Temperature of which was roughly the same as the steam filling the room, and you’ve done your best to minimize air currents. They’ve got a bit more shape to them than you expected of someone who’s been so heavily modified. Perhaps what little fat storage it provides helps on longer missions, or perhaps this is for the purposes of marketing. Just another recruitment ad that appeals to baser instincts. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Using a cloth with the least noticeable texture possible, you wash off as much sweat and dead skin as you can, avoiding the various interface and IV ports, as you’re not yet sure that they’re waterproof. Embarrassment is the enemy of efficiency, so you’re slightly glad that their eyes never completely focus on you. They shift their weight slightly, however. Despite the difficulty moving with their current symptoms, they lean in the direction opposite the places you wash once you're done, allowing you to more easily access the places you haven’t got to yet. An act of trust that you have a suspicion they weren't “programmed” to do. As they dry out, you prepare for the difficult part. You take the blanket that previously wrapped around their suit, and gently touch a corner of it to their shoulder. Pilots are used to an amount of sensory information that would overload any normal human in an instant, but most rarely experience textures against their skin. After about half an hour, they’re used to it enough that you’re able to replace what’s left of the suit with it, and after another you’re able to wrap them in it again. You carry them back to the couch, and place a few of your old shirts next to their hand. They pick one and touch it with one finger before recoiling slightly. Eventually, they’ll be used to at least one of them enough that they can wear it. It’s slow progress, but it’s progress.

Step 3: food

It goes without saying that it’s usually been at least a year since they’ve eaten anything. The augmentations scooped out much of their knowledge on how to survive as a human, assuming that they would die before ever needing to be one again. Start them off with just flavors. Give them a chance to pick favorites by giving them a wide selection and firmly telling them to try all of them. Avoid anything solid for the first month or so, both because they can’t digest it and because they associate chewing with their self-destruct mechanism. Trying to and surviving might make them think the “mission’s fully compromised” and attempt to improvise. They’ll typically pick out favorites quickly with their enhanced senses, so once they’ve sampled everything, tell them to pick one. Remember it, not in order to use it as a reward or anything, but them still being able to have a “favorite” anything is something you should keep in mind for later.

Use a similar method anytime they become able to handle the next level of solidity. Don’t be alarmed if one of their favorite foods is the meat that’s most similar to humans (such as pork.) they’re not going to eat you, they just will have already formed an association between that flavor and the moment they went from being a weapon to living in your house. Don’t worry about your thumb getting infected, by the way. Pilots barely have a microbiome.

Step 4: entertainment:

Roll them over to your computer and give them access to your game library. No, really. They need enrichment, and there’s only one activity that they’re able to enjoy at the moment. A simulation of it will make the shift from weapon to guest easier. Start them off with an FPS with a story. Don’t go multiplayer, as your account may get banned for being suspected of using aimbots. Watch as they progress the story. The military left pilots with just enough of a personality to allow them to improvise, and that should be enough for them to make decisions on this level. They won’t do much character customization, but keep an eye on which starting character body shape they pick. No pilot would consciously think they have enough of a “Self” to still have a gender, but keep track of the ones they pick in the games. As for the one you’ve found, it appears that she’s got a player-character preference. You even saw her nudge one of the appearance sliders before clicking “start game.” Whether this means that a pilot doesn’t think of themselves as “it” or that it means there’s still enough of their mind left for them to know there’s more to themselves than the body they have, it’s a handy bit of information to know. Some pilots might have had this decision influenced by their handlers having referred to them as “she” in the way it refers to boats, but still, on some level they always know that “it” meant that they’re a weapon.

Step 6: outside:

There’s a profound difference between experiencing the world through information fed directly into your brain and standing up for the first time, wandering around the room and investigating with hands not made of a half-ton of metal. She’s not used to feeling the air on her skin as she stands in front of the window, visual data coming from two eyes instead of seven cameras. It’ll take a while to get used to it again. New old data, reminiscent of a time before she’s been trained not to remember. It’ll take a while until she’s walking like a human and not a mech, as the muscles used are different, and the ones to hold herself upright haven’t been used in a while. She’s going to fall down at least once. Be sure you’re standing next to her when it happens, as pilots that fall aren’t trained to think they can get back up. It’s worth it, though, when she opens the door herself and strides into the yard, still wobbly but standing. Be careful not to let her look into the sun, partially because it looks nearly identical to the barrel of a pulse-decay blaster milliseconds before it fires. She would get hurt trying to dodge it. It will be somewhat confusing for her, standing on a hill as she once did, but not contained within a 12-meter metal chassis. A feeling of being small and alone without the voices of the computer. This means it’s time for step seven.

Step 7:

All this time, and any idea that she’s still a person has, for her, been subconscious. Any thought of humanity is stopped when it slams into the wall of her handlers and mech AIs reminding her for years before now that she is a weapon. She’ll still ask for your permission before doing just about anything, and that’s just the rare times that she’ll do something you don’t tell her to. Even after you’ve moved her into your room, she’ll still try to sleep on the floor. She still thinks that beds are only for humans. Kneel next to her as she curls into a ball on the ground, assuming that’s what she’s supposed to do. Expect her to try to move down to the foot of the bed after you set her down on it. Gently move her back up until her head’s on the pillow. Sit on the edge of the bed, and hold out your hand to her. After a bit, she’ll take it, wrapping both hands around it and tracing her fingers along the scar on your thumb. Lie down next to her, an arm’s length apart. Place your other hand on her forearm, then slide it up her arm to her shoulder. Don’t move too quickly, and don’t surprise her. Whisper softly but audibly every movement you’re going to make in advance. Move in a bit closer, until you’re wrapped in her arms. Mech pilots aren’t used to this. They aren't used to feeling someone next to them. Not above them, but next to them, getting exactly as much out of this as they are. Even after several months, many won’t admit they deserve it. You wouldn’t waste time lying next to a gun. So why do they feel so strongly that they don’t want you to leave? Why do they hold on tighter? They often feel they’re doing something wrong. Overstepping a boundary. There’s a rift between what they want and what they’re told they can want that nearly tears their mind in half, and it hurts. No normal human will ever know how much it hurts them to think they’ve broken some instruction, that they feel things they aren’t allowed to. Nobody said it was easy, learning how to become human again. Tell her it’s okay. That she’s allowed to feel this way. She still won’t know why. It’s time to tell her. The guide can’t tell you what to say, only that you have to say it. It has to come from you. You have to be the one that tells her what she is underneath all the modifications. It’s time, say it.

“Do you feel that? Do you feel your heart start to beat faster as it presses up against mine? Do you feel your own breath against your skin after it reflects off my shoulder? Do you feel your muscles start to tighten as I slide my hand across them, then relax because you know it means that you are safe? It’s because you’re alive. Because despite everything, you’re still alive. Still someone left after all the changes, all the augmentations. And I know you’re someone because you are someone that likes food a bit spicier than most would prefer. Someone that closes her eyes and gets lost in music whenever it’s playing. Someone that added that one piece of customization to her character, even though they would wear a helmet for most of the game and nobody would know it was there but you. Maybe you aren’t the same person you were before. Maybe they did take some things from you that nothing can give back. But you’re still someone. Someone that people can still care about, and I know because I do.”

You can feel her tears drip down onto your neck as she pulls you closer. She tries to say something, but you can’t understand what. You tell her it’s okay. That it’s not easy, and that she doesn’t have to pretend that it is. Not for you, and not for anyone anymore. She doesn’t have to be useful anymore. No need to keep it together. All that matters is that she’s alive.

There’s another battle going on in the night sky outside. The same flashes of light you saw the night you stopped living alone, even if the other person couldn’t admit that they were one yet. She still flinches at the brighter bursts of pulse-decay fire, still stretches out her hand on reflex to prime a pneumatic lance that isn’t there. But she knows it’s not her, it’s just a ghost of the weapon that died when it hit the ground. You can feel her relax as she realizes this, moving her hand back to dry her face before reaching out towards yours. You hadn’t noticed the tears on your own face. You place your hand on hers as she wipes the corner of your eye. Outside and above, the war continues on a cosmic scale, so far apart from where you both are now that you barely notice it. Let the stars kill each other. After all, the one before you has already fallen, and she doesn’t have to return to the sky. Together, you are safe on earth.

#mechposting #creative writing #mech pilot #Heron knight’s writing

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a-shade-of-blue · 4 months ago

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Israel has been targeting densely populated areas, refugee camps and shelters. In September alone, 17 schools have been bombed, 14 of which were housing refugees. And on top of having to fear for their lives, Mohammed and his family are suffering from malnutrition and diseases because they don't have enough money to buy food and medicine! Please give them more support!!

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#ahmed0khalil

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paeinovis · 2 years ago

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I feel so bad when my research prof asks me how classes r going and then more explicitly how my grades are like my guy does Not realize that these last few years I've been a C average student

#text #hhhhhh #paersonal #the thing is is if it's a coding class or a class I don't care about I won't Work on it lol #bc I'm awful w time management #and motivation #adhd is killing meeee #i just need to join the workforce I Keep Telling Myself #would I make more money w a doctorate? sure. will I ever be in the right mindset mentally and have the memory and drive to get one?#mm.#like look. I've got an A in essentials of astrophysics this go around because I've been Doing the hw and haven't burnt out super bad over #covid pandemic. but mech 2 and em1? fuggedaboutit #i liked mech1 too! is the thing!#i got a B or st in it. a B+ in modern physics too iirc #but I just can't mesh w the prof he's really sweet and he's got like a nobel prize but omg .#that does not translate to Teacher #(for mech2)#thats what sucks so bad abt this school #like the profs are researchers bc that's how the school gets monie #not Necessarily Teachers

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mirrorbusterz · 25 days ago

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omg someone else notices just how awful the fandom characterises Orion for the sake of Megop THANK YOU

Thats one of the main reasons i love how to school a mech so much cause you do Orion so much justice it's honestly refreshing to see

It's always passively bothered me the way Orion is treated, but when I actually started writing Orion I think something in me realized just how bad the fandom collectively treats the poor guy, which is such a shame considering how conceptually awesome he is as a character. I know this is going to devolve into a rant since I've always wanted to vent my frustrations, so strap in lol

Something I wanted to consider when writing TFP Orion for Dissertation is the way the TFP version of him is perceived by the fandom. We honestly have almost no idea how the 'real' Orion would've acted a person, and the Orion Pax episodes are highly unreliable considering this episode makes no effort to tell it from Orion's perspective at all. It is very much framed from Megatron's perspective considering nearly all depictions of Orion we see on screen is when he is reacting to Megatron's presence.

Now, I don't doubt that Orion genuinely *wants* to believe in Megatron's truthfulness, however, our perception of Orion is still skewed in Megatron's favor. We have almost no idea what is actually going on in Orion's head during his time on the Nemesis, and I think that a lot of fans don't understand that his--dare i say--'submissive' characteristics are reflections of how Megatron sees him. We actually have no clue as to whether Orion himself is comfortable referring to him as 'lord,' especially considering the extinuating circumstances. He has no where else to go, of course he is going to play along with whatever his friend is comfortable with.

This is where I believe a lot of fanon tropes bleed into Orion's characterization, someone who is submissive and defers to Megatron, when the only time we see his character is when he is put in a stressful and outwardly biased situation. I don't believe that he acts this way AT ALL before he received the matrix, and it really limits the way we write our characters if we are only ever pulling from one skewed situation that didn't even depict a 'true' version of Orion in the first place.

I think it makes sense for him to be a little socially inept and bookish, even shy, if we take into account the way Optimus himself acts in TFP--he's intelligent but standoffish, a little hard to talk to--which would make sense if these traits stemmed from someone who spent most of his time cataloguing and recording. HOWEVER, conflating these traits into 'submissiveness' for the sake of sexualization is really really lame imo, and in Dissertation I aimed to flesh him out as a person rather than the sexy librarian that is the object of Megatron's affection.

One thing I wanted to emphasize is TFP Optimus' dry sense of humor that always seems to fall at the wayside. Even the characters in TFP tend to view Optimus as "humorless," when that is clearly not the case?? He has an awkward dry sense of humor that crops up multiple time, and I can't help but think of his many interactions with Agent Fowler where he is clearly enjoying himself and Fowler's bickering.

In Dissertation, I think Orion being a little snarky, sharp, who recognizes logical fallacies quickly and doesn't hesitate to playfully poke at the people he likes. Which is insanely funny when Orion himself walks into multiple metaphorical rakes, which is to highlight that he is smart but is socially inept himself.

I'm not the biggest Megop shipper myself, (I do really really love it in TFONE though) so maybe I am a little biased in my assertions, but I really think that early 2010's-era yaoi BL damaged Orion's perception on a fandom level. I love slash, but for me as a writer it's tiring to see Orion dumbed down to the sexy twunk trope that the older stronger man tops, and I think this is a problem that TFP suffers from the most. I get how homoerotic those two are, but that doesn't mean that tension *has* to be boiled down to done-over tropes.

(As for TF Exodus, I have not read the novel yet, but the snippets I have seen have leaned into the "shy librarian" trope, but this trait he possesses gets flanderized to hell and back by the fandom. I think I'm going to read it after Dissertation is finished so I can compare my characterization with the novel, I think that would be interesting! Just know, I am mainly referring to TFP Orion characterization here instead of the entire Aligned continuity.)

Bottom line, I love Orion and I'm glad that everyone else loves Orion. My intent was not to 'gatekeep' or tell you how to enjoy the character, I just wanted to highlight my personal frustrations with his popular depiction. I'm so glad that everyone is enjoying my Orion depiction in Dissertation though, I'm glad I've built an audience of cool likeminded people!

Btw if anyone else has any thoughts or questions on ANYTHING pertaining to my fic, feel free to ask! My ask box is open for a reason and I love to rant about my process teehee

#transformers #text post #how to school a mech #rant post #ask #tfp optimus prime #tfp orion pax #orion pax #fic rant #jasper yap session

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ennabear · 1 month ago

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Gentle/soft sevika… im starving, lord have mercy

^also im the important exam anon! I dont know how i did in that day since the results would take 2 more weeks minimum, but im pretty sure whether it turns out too good or too bad than usual its thanks to you, imma keep you updated! I also think i did good because replaying what you wrote in my brain was just a the best kind of rewards^

IMPORTANT EXAM ANON HAIII!!!! i’m sure you did good hehe idk who you are or what you’re going to school for but i believe that you’re very smart… BUT THANK YOU!!! i’m so honored heheheh 😭 here’s some soft sevika 🤎🤎

everyone always thinks that sevika is aggressive and scary, especially because she can be on occasion. but in reality, you’ve never really seen her that way.

all of sevika’s violence and crimes are done outside of the walls of your shared home, as far away from them as she can manage. most of her killings and fights are done in a dark alleyway in the middle of nowhere, or closer to topside, where although it’s risky to be so close to those stuck ups who’ve never witnessed a crime before, she always gets away with it.

and she never does it out of cold blood. she only lays her hands on someone if they’ve wronged her first.

to you, her hands are the softest thing in the world. well— hand, technically, because she only has one human hand left. but both of them, whether flesh or metal, treat you with the greatest care possible.

late at night, they can be found wrapped around you, either holding you to her chest in a tight snuggle or pinning you to the bed while she snores on top of you. sometimes her metal fingers will trace little shapes into your back, the pointy tips of them making you shiver as she slowly lulls you to sleep.

sometimes she forgoes her mech arm completely, you being the only person she feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable with. still, her human arm will cling to your hips or your waist as you move around the house. whether that means doing chores or washing yourselves up or taking a well deserved afternoon nap on the couch.

sometimes she’ll even cry in front of you if she feels safe enough— which of course she does around you. you’re the only person on the whole planet who knows about her past and the things that still do scare her. like losing you, for example.

her favorite thing in the world is crying with you, although it seems dark. but to her, it’s like she finally feels seen. whether you’re crying over the same thing or just being mutually sad together, she loves to comfort you and feel it back at the same time. neither of you can even stay sad for long, because the other is trying to cheer you up by making you laugh or crack a smile, and it always ends in two teary-eyed giggles bubbling through the room.

#sorry these are short oops but i hope u like them hehehe #ALSO YES PLEASE UPDATE ME LMAO IM INVESTED NOW #I LOVE U NONNIE #sevika #sevika fluff #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x female reader #sevika arcane x reader #arcane sevika #arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends

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fifiphobic · 2 months ago

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Katsuki must be so utterly miserable. He must be so tired. Imagine working tirelessly for 8 years, going back and forth between America and Japan (I assume at least 3 times a year) to see progress for the suit. Working on designs, material, fabric, testing out certain weapons. he must’ve thought about Izuku’s physical capabilities, his injuries, his weaknesses after the loss of his quirk. Wanting to tackle all of that in 1 miracle suit for the boy you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, compete for the rest of you life with. Then after 8 long years of labour, 8 long years of suppressed feelings, yearning. 8 LONG HARD YEARS OF sitting idly waiting for the right moment to confess to the love of your life (you know having this whole plan to give him the suit because YEAH! fuck a ring that sentimental shit is worthless make the love of your life a badass mech suit to be hero’s together). Izuku decided yk what? I’m gonna get drunk the night of class A reunion and then while drunk I’m going to realise my very fickle feelings for the small high school crush I had 8 years ago. (mind you didn’t think about not once in 8 years) and I’m going to tell Katsuki. Not only am I going to tell Katsuki but when he extends an offer for me to join his hero agency I'll REJECT?

Middle school midoriya would’ve been FUMING!!!!!

(The epilogue really sent me out of hiatus hey guys missed you how’s everybody doing)

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keferon · 5 months ago

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Hey, I don't know if you're still open to answering questions about this, but if you are I am SO curious to know about what Tarantulas would be like the monster hunter au? Even if he's basically the same I'm really curious what the more mythical setting and Prowl being a golem would change (if it changes much of anything at all)

I love your art! It's a big source of inspiration to me

Oh, I've been asked this before and didn't have an answer last time, but now I do.

Tarantulas would be the ultimate weirdo, studying magic and Beastformers, but he himself would originally be a regular mech.

At some point he became so inspired by his research that he essentially invented a way to turn regular mechs into Monsters, and the first thing he did was turn into a spider himself.

He also, as in the comics, works with Prowl and he's one of the very few to know that Prowl is a golem and not a real mech, even though he looks and acts like one. This information actually gives Tarantulus a great idea to try to create a golem that is so elaborate and advanced that it is essentially a mech.

He decides to break every possible rule of golem creation to create Ostaros. While Prowl is essentially a hollow armor powered by magic - Ostaros is something like Frankenstein's monster. Tarantulas put him together, taking care of every little detail. He gave him a processor and internal components (and a transformation cog hehehe). Ostaros still doesn't have a spark, but he has free will, intelligence, emotions and all. And two modes. He can look like a normal mech, or he can transform into an insecticon.

Prowl is so fucking confused by the way, because he just walks into Tarantulas' lab one day and there's a completely random mech with a face that could be a mirror image of Prowl's. And Tarantulas is like, hey look, I created life and now it's your problem how and where to house him, because this kid needs to go to school.

(Prowl ends up sending Ostaros to Shockwave Academy to become a knight)

#maccadam #monster hunter au #Tarantulas #Prowl #Ostaros #Springer

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lets-try-some-writing · 23 days ago

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On the topic of Jack's dad leaving and the bots reaction to it, what do they feel for June? Because I can imagine the thought of being left to deal with a sparkling all on your own because your Conjunx and fellow caretaker just straight up abandoned you and the sparkling, does NOT leave happy thoughts in their head. Like, having a Conjunx seems pretty rare as it is, especially in the tfp universe. So to know what is essentially the human version of one abandoned June?

I'm new to this. Straight up never sent an ask on Tumblr before, uh, hope this is all right?... 😶

(I'm projecting because my own dad abandoned me, wait whaaaat, who said that??)

I wish I could hug you through the screen, anon. Sounds like you could use it. That said, I can see the bots both being unsurprised and confused all at once.

On Cybertron it was completely normal for a single bot to take on a newbuild or sparkling to mentor. At the same time, it was generally seen as a good idea to have two or more mentors involved in the rearing of a sparkling in order to diversify their education and ensure their health and wellbeing. With this in mind, the bots were not initially all that concerned when it came to June raising Jack alone. Orion Pax was brought up by Alpha Trion and the Archivists. Ratchet was raised by an entire colony of mechs of similar origin, communal style. Arcee was taught by a school for newbuilds who were not taken in by single or paired guardians. Bulkhead had a teacher who took him in when he was young and got him through school before they parted ways. Bumblebee was the collective ward of Autobot High Command and referred to all of them as his Sires, albeit with slightly different tones. Smokescreen was raised by the Elite Guard pretty much the moment he signed on. Ultra Magnus and his brother raised themselves and Wheeljack grew up in a pack of other wild newbuilds.

Simply put, there was no real standard for a family on Cybertron outside of the higher castes. Your family was what you made it. So June's situation wasn't all that jarring... until it was.

Conjunxing was rare in the extreme back on Cybertron. It was to be bound intimately and permanently in a way that even scientists had to admit had some level of supernatural effect involved. To choose to Conjunx was a lifelong commitment, a true contract for the functionally immortal Cybertronians. It was even rarer for Conjunxed partners to break way from each other, often because both parties failed to survive for long afterwards more often than not. To hear that June had been Conjunxed by human standards and then been abandoned after having a sparkling as well?

Completely and utterly unheard of.

That was not to say it didn't happen back on Cybertron, but to leave ones partner AND a sparkling? That was social execution.

To hear that June had endured that level of abandonment shook the team. According to Cybertronian custom, to try and preserve the lives of guardian and sparkling it was widely accepted that the community was to step up in the other partner's absence. And so the moment the team registered the situation and translated it culturally, there was an instant shift in disposition around June in particular. There wasn't much they could do for the human women, but they could step up in place of Jack's Sire, just as tradition dictated.

June found herself being talked to by Optimus about the loss of loved ones, earning her the story of how the Prime lost Elita-1 in an attempt to connect. Ratchet started leaving either cash that he picked up for June to use as needed, a small gesture to make up for his lack of available time. Arcee took it upon herself to step up and teach Jack the lessons a Sire would have taught, walking him through mature topics and offering the wisdom of her long life. Bulkhead did the same, trying to give what wisdom he could in the absence of Jack's other creator and even going so far as to share a few stories of his guardian back before the war to connect to the boy. Bumblebee, not having much experience in the field of parenting, instead chose to be more of a friend. He and Jack weren't particularly close, but he kept near to keep an optic on the boy in case he was having a rough day.

Neither Jack or June understood why the team adjusted their behavior and they didn't need to know. Custom would be upheld, even amidst war.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #bulkhead #arcee #jack darby #june darby #cybertronian culture

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