#mech pilot x mechanic

[super-ion]

The Engineer

Part 4

(Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3)

I don't know where the pilot is taking me at first.

I am realizing that my life has just been an endless circuit of routine: Quarters. Gym. Cafeteria. Maintenance bay. Cafeteria. Quarters. Repeat. Everything outside of that has become an abstraction to me.

I can't even remember the last time I made my way up to the level. Everything here is shiny and pristine, scrubbed spotless twice a day on the off chance that some senator or general might visit. It's all clean lines, camouflaged access panels, trim little admin offices.

I very nearly have to stop and stare at a potted plant, when was the last time I saw one, verdant and alive?

But the pilot is moving with single minded purpose and I am forced to hurry to catch up.

I imagine her dragging me into the commandant’s office. I imagine her presenting me in formal complaint, the guilt of my sins, my intimacy with her machine, written plainly across my face.

She comes to a stop so suddenly that I almost collide with her. It is not the commandant’s office that we have arrived at.

The gilded signage on the door simply reads: OBSERVATION

She glances at me, briefly hesitating. In this entire encounter, it is the first moment of uncertainty that she has shown.

She swipes her wrist over the access panel, the door whispers open and I understand the hesitation and uncertainty.

Observation delivers exactly what it promises. The far side of the dimly lit room is dominated by floor-to-ceiling plex that overlooks the expanse of the maintenance bay.

My breath catches at the sight of Her.

Morrigan is resting in Her docking harness, Her heat sinks fully spread like the wings of an angel, armor plating unfolded to expose superstructure beneath, countless docking umbilicals arrayed almost organically to connect to the facility's systems.

It has been so long since I've actually seen Her, all of Her at once, that I've forgotten the scale of it all. My entire world has been the cockpit and the docking vestibule and now I can barely comprehend how small the team of techs are next to Her as they scurry along like ants.

Some tension leaves the pilot's shoulders and she strides towards the plex wall. She gazes upon the machine with adoration, the most emotion I have ever seen on her face. I start to imagine that I understand why she brought me here.

I step tentatively into the room. The door shuts behind me and the dim space is suddenly intimate.

Alone with the Pilot, her framed by the vista of Morrigan, the space feels almost holy. A shrine. A Goddess and Her human avatar.

I imagine Morrigan watching us. Maybe She can. Her visual sensors are specially designed to pick out details at a distance. Perhaps the Pilot told Morrigan exactly where and when we would be her.

Almost in answer to my thoughts, Her exposed core pulses, a blue-white flicker of light, and the Pilot places a hand tenderly on the plex.

My stomach lurches. It is no longer me alone with the Pilot in this room. It is all three of us. It is me alone with them. The suffocating sense of being an interloper returns in full force.

“I read all your reports,” the Pilot says without turning, without breaking her gaze from Morrigan. “It's like fucking Christmas for her. She just can't wait to show me what you found in your analysis.”

I stand awkwardly, unsure how to respond, or if I should respond at all.

“It's so fucking hard sometimes,” she continues, “they pull you out and you can't even tell who you are. You leave something behind and you take something with you.”

She turns abruptly, fixing me with the intensity of her gaze.

“What were you doing three nights ago?”

I had been expecting the question, dreading it, but the abruptness of it catches me off guard and fresh panic licks down my spine.

I open my mouth, but I can't bring myself to say anything.

She takes a step towards me. I step back instinctively. My back meets the wall.

“I already know,” she says, her tone unreadable. “I want to hear you say it. Your own words.”

I swallow. My eyes dart back to Morrigan. She is watching us. I know it. I know it from the now blazing light in Her core.

“I…”

I swallow again.

“I had a nightmare,” I admit. “I went to Morrigan.”

She takes another step forward. She's taller than me and I have to tilt my head back just slightly to meet her eyes.

“Why?”

“I didn't… I didn't want to be alone. I didn't know who else to go to. I... I wanted to be with her.”

Another step. She's close now, close enough to touch.

“Whose nightmares?”

Fuck.

“Yours,” I admit. “...and mine.”

“You think a lot about neural bleed.”

It isn't a question. I don't think it's a question. I nod in acknowledgement regardless.

“You think about how the patterns of thought and identity leave marks. Imprints. You're in her head, so you're in mine. The three of us, we're just this fucking tangle, aren't we?”

Fuck. What does she want from me?

I don't know if she expects me to answer that, but there's another moment of uncertainty from her.

“She wanted me to talk to you,” she says. “Or I wanted her to want me to talk to you. I don't even know. I don't fucking know who wants what any more.”

She looks… vexed now. That intense gaze of hers has taken on a slightly different gleam.

My heart is hammering in my chest and my breathing has become ever so slightly ragged.

Neural bleed. Two halves to a whole.

She is Morrigan. The human half. The physical half.

She lifts her hand and I stand motionless as she reaches out to touch my face. Her fingertips meet my cheek and she blinks, almost surprised to discover that I am real.

She takes a breath and the uncertainty is gone, leaving naked desire in its wake.

She shifts her hand, palm sliding along my cheek to the back of my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair. The feel of her skin against mine is enough to make me gasp.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” she tells me in a low whisper.

“Please don't stop,” I beg in reply.

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, mech!ghost x pilot!reader, scifi, noncon/dubcon elements, guided masturbation, temperature play, voyeurism - 1.6K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Another long night in the cockpit.

You could only grin and bear it at this point. Reaching compatibility with your assigned vessel was slowly eating away at your psyche- and worst of all, you couldn’t even leave; not when your prospected affinity levels with the infamous machine had been deemed unprecedented, and certainly not when you knew what happened to deserters.

Conscription was non-negotiable these days; the large colony you had grown up in now ravaged by some otherworldly force and desperately bleeding out resources in response, be it weaponry, rations, or bodies.

The faction had been gifted the GH-05t Mech as an act of goodwill, but ask any official and you’d be informed that the powerful, unused machine would serve better as scrap parts- the real kicker being that they were no longer equipped with the resources or the manpower to dismantle the damned thing. 

GH-05t was a battle vessel; had been lauded as a ground-breaker and a boundary-pusher with the integration of an intelligent battle protocol system, all trained posthumously off the stored memories of some long-dead pilot, surely without his consent- Simon, they had named it in an attempt to make it more user friendly and assistant-like in nature.

Hubris. The system failed to run, turning the fully-functional mech into a glorified mountainous paperweight due to all of the instrumental functions being locked behind unresponsive intelligence. You speculated that the machine had passed hands to save face- to keep the public hopeful despite the system refusing to wake up.

-Wake up. You groaned, slapping lightly at your face.

You hated it here, longing for lazy days on the bleak outer walls, surrounded by the buzz of cicadas and rustling long grass as you waited for your father to get back from the drillsite. Your parents had been so proud when officials showed up at your dilapidated front porch, neat suits, shining eyes, and big smiles blissfully ignoring the very same surroundings they had left to rot;  all while you reeled internally- shaken by the worst news you had received in your life. It was a death sentence. 

It had been years since that day, and you were absolutely sure you had only been given a position like this because of some made-up numbers all while they tried to remind you that you were special, somehow different from your peers.

All damned to the same fate in your eyes.

“-load of shit.” you hissed, rubbing at the uncomfortable neuro-valve hooked into the back of your flight suit. Frustrated, you kicked at the mechanical console snug against your leg, the low rumbling whirr of the machine staying the same in response- apathetic to your misdirected rage. 

A moment passed before you finally leaned back in your seat with a grimace.

You still weren’t used to the flight suits in the mech pilot regs. You almost missed the starchy cargo pants that were worn throughout training- both had been unbearably stiff, but at least the latter hadn’t been so form-fitting.It always freaked you out a bit; the pilot suits were more akin to sleek exodermis, responsive and shock absorbent- It felt wrong to have something so foreign covering your entire body; unnatural. 

Your hips squirmed in the seat, friction suddenly becoming apparent the more you thought about it. The low tone of your monitored vitals raised gradually with the fuzzy heat beginning to shamefully pool in your gut; making you all too glad these late night bonding-sessions were done in an all but abandoned mech bay- your observed progress dwindling along with your prospects as time went on without result. 

Grinding into the seat, you swallowed back the thick saliva coating your mouth, teeth catching on your dry bottom lip as you held back a low, audible shudder; eyes fluttering shut. 

The bulky panel separating your legs became all too appealing as you acknowledged the press of it at your sealed cunt, nudging your apex into the blunt peak while your gloved hands curled around the padding of the built-in armrests.

Then, there was a pulse at your core. 

Eyes snapping open, you became all too aware that the sensation hadn’t come from your body. Straightening up in your seat you were met with a dull blinking text on the panel that had never been there before- 

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: LOADING’

You were rooted in place as you witnessed the glowing, digital bar slowly fill.

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: ONLINE’

You scrambled to pull at the neuro-valve connecting your suit to the mech, only for the small port’s flight locks to engage; a stark hiss emitting from the cockpit door’s airlock.

“Disengage locks.” you commanded, completely lost on what was happening. 

There was a low, fractured robotic groan directly in your comms “-Fuck…” the voice was deep, aggressively masculine and breathy in your ear- the sound holding more human emotion than you were prepared to rationalize. “Where am I?”

“-Disengage locks.” you repeated firmly. 

“The fuck is this?” he snarled, apparently coming to as he barked out questions, disoriented. “-Who are you- why are you in m’head- Fuck, why can’t I see?” 

Your suit was flexing and constricting, going haywire in the confusion. “C-calm down!” you stuttered, a pendulum in your head swinging between gripping dread and the low, heady heat of unmet needs. “Just-Just let me see if I can fix this.” 

Panting shakily, you swiped at the flight panel’s screen- spotting something containing the words ‘optical’ and ‘sensors’, you tapped frantically.

There was an audible wince deep in your ear, then a growling hum met with silence.

“M'dead, aren’t I?”

“-You’re a memory bank- not a person.” you asserted, clarification necessary when it came to a massive mobile death machine. ”C-Can you lay off the suit, please?”

A pulsing wave passed the length of your suit as he listened to your embarrassed response over the comms, the sound of his voice bouncing around in your head. “Fuck, bet tha’ feels nice, yeah?”

A whine bubbled at your lips before you could stop it. “I- You’re not l-listening, Simon.” 

There was a long silence following your plea- air electric and tense.

“Tha’ name- How do you know it?”

“N-not the point!” you argued, only to be met with a full body squeeze- a threat. “-It’s the name of the o-operating system! P-please!”

He relented, your chest heaving as your muscles released tension.

“Well, if you an'I are so close...”

The screen flashed with a notice. 

‘[Main Cockpit Camera Feed - Status: Active]’

Followed by another

‘[Manual Override - Feed Transmission Blocked]’

“-Keep things between us, yeah?” 

Your head swivelled around to look for a camera, landing on a lackadaisical red blink coming from right above the reinforced windshield.

“You're a sight, aren’t you?" listening closely, you could hear the audible scroll of the lens focusing.

You frowned. “Let me out-”

You gasped as a cold heat focused at your core, reminding you that your suit’s temperature regulating measures were completely under his control. “-No need for fuss, we were just getting t’know each other.”

“Th…” you paused, panting softly. “-This doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s not to get, Love?” there was a pause as your seat adjusted forward, bumping your cunt into the console. “Give us a show, yeah?”

You whimpered in response, pressure unbearable.

“Look at you.” he snarled, the deep sound goading your rocking hips onward. “Fuck- Wish I could taste you…”

There was a small noise from the screen that had your heavy lids pulling upwards- database bringing up the low-res file of a soldier. 

“-Look at the man doing this to you, love.” 

Your lips parted, eyebrows drawing downwards in confusion as you looked at the attached image; a masked man with voids for pupils staring back at you.

“Y-You’re not-” you gasped as a concentrated cold rushed your breast, nipples pearling up uncomfortably at the sensation- the friction of your undergarments and the newly dropping temperatures sending your head soaring as your hips worked at grinding into the blunt metal. ”-not r-real.”

“-I am.” His voice was a sharp, humorous growl that threatened you to challenge his word, followed by a single deep laugh. “Eyes up- on me, love.”

Your head bobbed as you glanced lazily at the file, unable to make any sense of the written data- not that it mattered anyway.

“Think you can finish for me?”

The suit pulsed rhythmically as you practically humped your seat with eyes screwed shut, the humiliation of your current position itching at something unfamiliar deep in your abdomen. With flushed cheeks, you chased the bubbling pot that made a home in your gut; willing it to boil over.

 “Look at me.” he ordered. “Need y'to look at me.” 

Glancing at the screen in a haze, the exomuscles of your suit flexed in response.

“No- Up.”

your head shot towards the camera, holding contact with the whirring lens as the overstimulation finally became too much- pussy fluttering in euphoria with elbows bracing you, hips pathetically grinding out the high. 

Struggling to catch your breath, you slumped back into the chair- gears adjusting your seat back into a comfortable position.

“Good.” the voice in your ear barked, before lowering incrementally. “-Good…”

The screen lit up with a notice that compatibility requirements had been met- although it didn't mean much to you in your state; chest heaving slowly while you tried to make sense of what happened. 

“Gonna’ let you out- but this has got to stay our secret, yeah?” 

You swallowed, eyelids tugging open as your suit tensed in warning.

“How copy?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good,” he paused. “-don't need anyone but you poking around up here.”

[starrywizz]

STARSCREAM X fighterpilot!READER

Disclaimer: I have very limited, google only, knowledge of how the airforce works so ignore any mistakes. Ignore any spelling mistakes it was late when I finished this.

~~~~~~~~~

It was a dim, gloomy day as you were up early, walking down past the hangers to talk to your mechanics. It was only after you passed hanger 013 that you paused.

The sliding doors were open, slightly parted at the centre, and a shiny nose-cone could be seen. You slowly walked towards the hanger and entered, flicking on the lights and gasping as a gleaming, tri coloured jet stood before you. It was beautiful, in a strange way, but most definitely out of place. You had never heard of one of the keys being painted red, white and blue so what on earth was it doing here?

It was humiliating. Megatron, the imbecile, had sent Starscream of all mechs to pose as human military jet in order to gain access to their databases which might hold knowledge of the whereabouts of the Autobot.

This was a job for one of Soundwave’s strange lackeys not the Second in command and the Air commander of the entire Decepticon force.

Starscream was seething, as he laid in wait among the feeble human jets. How did Megatron truely expect him to complete this task? What was he supposed to do, rip up the whole base?

Regardless, he waited and watched through the open doors. He would leave again soon, he just had to remain long enough so that it at least looked like he tried.

He was very close to firing up his thrusters when the human in front of him gasped. He would never admit that the human had caught him unawares or that he briefly panicked as they came closer to him. They placed and brief touch to the bottom of his nose-cone before running back out of the hanger. This was going to be a problem.

You walked over to where your mechanics were waiting with your heart thundering in your chest. There was something about that jet that just was not normal. You were sure of it.

You spoke about the strange jet to one of your technicians who all seemed equally as confused at its sudden appearance. Resolute, you marched back to your superior’s office, determined to explain your findings.

To your surprise, and part horror, your superior looked at you like you had gone mad. Still, he followed after you as you nearly marched down to the jet. It was still there, looking just as incredible as it had before and it still gave you that strange chill it had earlier. Beside you, your superior paled before telling you it was nothing to worry about. He walked briskly back to base, phone in hand. Confused, you walked back to your mechanical whilst giving brief glances to the jet over your shoulder.

The rest of the day trickled by, followed by next and then the one after that. The jet had not moved, nor did anyone (and you had gone around base interrogating people) know anything about it. It was not on the records. It really seemed like it didn’t exist.

That only made it more interesting. You had been taking your lunch breaks in hanger 013, sitting near the jet just staring at it. Questions flooded your head but there seemed to be no answer to them. It infuriated you. Sooner or later you would have to accept that nobody knew anything about this new and crazily colourful jet.

You spent your night in the barracks hardly sleeping so it was no surprise when you awoke to the sound of roaring jet engines. Any other day, you would have rolled over and tried to sleep. But not today because you knew that there were no scheduled flights this late at night and the only reason a jet would be taking off was if there was an emergency. If so, it was best you get up.

Walking outside into the cold night. You froze in partial shock and horror as you saw the tri-coloured jet heading down the taxiway. Somehow, your legs unfroze and you began to sprint down towards the jet. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind. Who was piloting it? Where were they going? What were they doing?

The jet turned to cross onto the runway and then… stopped. It was dark and there was no way for you to be able to tell who was in the cockpit, if there was anyone at all. Suddenly, with a robotic whirr, the jet shifted and began to fold in on itself?

You screamed and moved back as a giant, taloned hand reached out and grabbed you pulled you off the ground. Frozen in shock you barely noticed when the thing looked at you with glowing red eyes before it shifted around itself and suddenly you were snuggly inside its cockpit. Your mind was racing and your head was pounding as it tried to come to terms with what had just happened. The jet (which was also possibly a giant robot) took off at a near vertical angle. The sudden increase in g-force was too much and you blacked out.

Starscream growled at the feeling of a human inside of him. You had better be worth all the trouble.

[ghostbeam]

Oblivi_n.exe | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Notes: okay wow hiiiii it’s been a long time since I’ve posted an actual fic (nearing almost a year now😬) this is something I’ve been working on for a bit. I have mech brain rot curtesy of @streimiv and @hawnks (both of whom this is dedicated to bc there’s no way I could have written this without yapping to them abt it and also mint helped me come up w the acronym for HERO’s) and we’ve all got our own mech fics in the works atm but anywayssssss this is kind of my baby atm but I hope it makes sense it’s very inspired first and foremost by pacific rim and then also NGE (mostly through consumption of YouTube vids bc I haven’t actually watched it pls don’t hate me) it’s a whole mess of things and Dabi is kind of a bitch and reader is slowly coming into herself and at the end of the day they both wanna be metal fused to one another forever (no matter how hard he denies it) also I’m not a huge computer person idk if this title makes sense so don’t make fun of me pls ok anyways I hope u like it!!!!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, pilot!Dabi x handler!reader, there’s no explicit sexual content in this part, not even a kiss sorry guys, mentions of robot gore (exposed wires, insides described as guts), brief descriptions of being trapped inside a small space, descriptions of burning while inside said space, mention of surgery to fashion a metal jaw onto someone, mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic just allusions to the todoroki family and touya’s past), angst, many run on sentences, a small cliff hanger

Words: 7.9k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 (coming soon)

You are nothing without your machine.

It’s the first rule, the first thing beaten into his brain by his father. You carry the burden of the mech alone, or you’re weak. You don’t exist. 

U.A. raises the best and brightest pilots, navigators, mechanics, and handlers, each one carefully trained to ensure the most important outcome: winning. It should be protection. It should be defense. But if Touya has learned anything at all, it’s that winning means glory. It means worship. It means HERO’s (Human Engineered Robotic Objects) are saints, and pilots are gods. 

 Touya used to be one of those best and brightest before his accident. 

First son to Enji Todoroki, Touya was supposed to be the golden child, the first Todoroki to pilot without a handler. He was supposed to carry the burden alone, something his father couldn’t do, something only one man has ever actually been capable of. 

But Touya is born weak, bad bones, a brain unable to handle all that the mech needs to unload onto it. One too many accidents results in him being expelled from the pilot program, his HERO discarded and collecting dust in its pod, and Touya is promptly transferred to mechanics. 

It should have been a smooth transition. If one kid can’t handle it, the next will. Because they have to. 

He doesn’t take the news well. It’s a fit of tears, a persistent fight, unable to accept the loss of his machine—of his body. Because Touya loves it. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in pure passion, and despite being unable to handle the burden, there’s no denying that he’s good. He’s almost perfect. 

But almost is not enough for Enji Todoroki, and no matter how hard Touya tries, he’s made up his mind. 

After months of mechanics, Touya makes a decision. When the next fleet of HERO’s is deployed for the next kaiju battle, Touya sneaks in among the chaos, tucked neatly inside the chest of his machine where he belongs. It doesn’t take long for things to go south, for Touya to get caught in the crossfire, losing control of his mech and burning from the inside out. 

It should be an excruciating death, stuck inside a machine made for war, fire raining from above as a battle continues on outside without him. 

But he survives, because what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in resilience, and his mech is programed with solutions to every situation. He’s stuck inside for months before he’s found.

Tomura Shigaraki rescues him, pries open the chest of his mech and pulls him from inside. His group feeds him, takes him in, fashions a new jaw for him made from the metal of his mech, and allows him the decision to join their cause or go back home. 

And since there’s no home to go back to, Touya finds his footing with the league and becomes one of their top pilots. One who vehemently resists any and all handlers.

…

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Following closely behind Tenko, formerly Tomura, he quickly explains to you the in’s and out’s of the pilot/handler relationship, along with a warning about Dabi’s resentment toward the whole idea. You try to keep up, but he talks quickly and uses his hands a lot. Even so, you can tell he’s a natural leader, something he had to grow into after overthrowing the man who raised him. His story is a tragic one, and it resonates with you because Tenko came out the other side stronger. Now, the league is a community with a cause, one you really believe in. Even if you and Dabi aren’t the right fit, you still have a place here. 

You follow Tenko into what he calls the garage, a large floor of the abandoned academy that serves as the league’s base, this part of it full of HERO’s and mechanics all focused on the machines in front of them. It’s completely different from how HERO’s were worked on at UA, where you grew up, and even the PLF didn’t have one dedicated floor to this sort of work. You can feel the energy of the room buzzing on your skin, music blasting from old radios and mechanics tossing tools towards one another in a familiar routine. Tomura leads you to Dabi and his HERO, Blue, though you’re instructed not to call it a HERO around him. With goggles over his eyes and gloved hands, he brings two wires from Blue’s ankle together, sighing at the way they spark each time they connect. 

“Dabi.” Tomura calls over the music coming from the radio hanging off of Dabi’s waist. He drops the wires and his gaze flickers toward the two of you. Pushing his goggles up to his forehead, he gives you a once over. His eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen—kaiju blood blue—and burn scars litter his body. He’s striking in a way you’ve never seen, almost too beautiful to be human. Giving Dabi your name, Tomura explains that you’re taking over as his handler, seeing as he couldn’t keep the last one for more than a couple of days. “She’s your last handler. If you can’t keep this one, then go ahead and fry your brain. See if I care.”

“You say that every time.” Dabi calls from around sucker as Tomura walks away, leaving you alone with your new pilot. 

You just your hand out in a greeting, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Eyeing your hand, Dabi shakes his head and turns his back to you, picking the two wires back up and connecting them again, despite the same spark from before igniting between the two. He looks back up at Blue, touching his fingers to the slim lines starting at the back of her ankle and running all the way up her leg. You peak over his shoulder at the wiring, noticing that he’s connecting two of the wrong ones. 

“It’s the wrong wire.” You tell him, and he spins around to look at you, tearing his goggles from his face as he scoffs. 

“Here we go.” He sighs with a roll of his eyes, pulling the candy from his lips and tossing it onto the tool cart without a care. “Handler know-it-all bullshit. This is my mech.”  

You push passed him and grab the similarly colored wire from beside a red wire and connect it with the one in Dabi’s right hand. Blue lights up cyan through the thin lines that run along each of its limbs and torso, connecting with the two cameras within its head, which seem to blink before the light reaches them. 

In an instant, you’re being pushed up against the hard metal, a strong arm over your chest—pinning you up against the HERO. Dabi, now having discarded his goggles, looks at you full of white, hot rage. 

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He growls. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, eyes flickering between the snarl across his lips and his angry gaze. For a beat, you both freeze, the air suddenly charged like you’re waiting for one another to strike. Snapping yourself out of his hypnotic stare, you push against his chest, forcing him to let you go. 

“If I’m going to be you’re handler, you’re going to have to trust me with her.” You remind him. He lets out a harsh laugh, like he can’t believe you would suggest such a ridiculous idea. 

“I don’t trust anything but this machine.” He speaks, turning away from you to seal up the machine’s exposed wires. It’s a challenge you’re willing to accept.

“Well, I’m here to change that.” You tell him, before turning on your heel to leave him alone. 

He thinks he’ll give you a week. 

…

One of the worst parts of being assigned a handler, Touya thinks, is the way that pilot/handler living quarters are set up. He assumes the academy, before it was abandoned and turned into a base for the league, created this sort of set up so that handlers could keep a close eye on their pilots. The handlers Touya has burned through up until now also assumed the same. 

The door that connects both the pilot’s and handler’s dorms doesn’t lock, and all of Touya’s past handlers have taken advantage of this fact. He’s been pulled out of bed far too early, pushed around and commanded and barked at. Most handlers behaved as if pilots belonged to them, which was the sentiment drilled into their brains from being thrown into such a fucked up system at a young age.—unless you were a pilot of status like a Todoroki. While he league dedicates a lot of its time to reversing these ideas, most handlers look at Touya like some kind of challenge, this arrogant pilot begging to be tamed. It never takes long for them to realize how easily he’s able to flip the switch on them. You’ll be no different.

But hours pass and you still haven’t entered. You don’t swing the door open and demand he apologize for his behavior earlier. You don’t try and punish him with training regimes, a command of a set of push ups, a schedule you expect him to follow, an extremely detailed meal plan. The entire evening comes and goes without so much as a sound on the other side of the door so he knows you’re even behind it. 

He falls asleep unnerved by this, waking up late into the night in a cold sweat, expecting you to barge in, rip the covers from his body and demand to train together. When he wakes up (peacefully) the next morning, there’s no sign of you. He rises from his bed, drinks orange juice straight from the carton and eats a candy bar for breakfast. He fiddles with the navigation screen from his mech that stopped working a couple of days ago, tools spread out on the counter in front of him. Once he’s got the thing working again, your knock sounds from the unlocked door between the two of you. He thinks this might be it, the commands he expects to fall from your lips at the ready as he swings the door open, but you stand there, nervous, hands twitching as your eyes finally meet his.

Greeted by a shirtless Touya, hair mused from sleep, cargo pants hung low on his hips, dog tags swinging against his chest, his scars on display, unashamed and proud. The sight of him knocks the breath out of you, and you clear your throat in embarrassment, hoping your state of dreaming comes off as nerves rather than lust. 

“Dabi. Or do you prefer Touya?” You smile. When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I wanted to see if you wanted to eat breakfast together in the caf. I think we should start over. Yesterday was—”

You’re promptly cut off, “I already ate breakfast.”

With a harsh slam of the door, he leaves you stunned in your room.

You eat alone. 

When you started as a pilot, back when you’d entered UA (a few years about Touya’s accident), you went into it believing you could change the world. The exam had placed you into the position of handler, and you were assigned a pilot who had always seemed a little frightened of you despite your obvious lack of authority. Bringing the fact up to your instructors did nothing. They all assured you that this was the ideal dynamic, that the handler always had the upper hand, but you hated that feeling. You weren’t a team like you expected to be; you were urged to control your pilot. You were there to keep them in line, not to be a pillar of support. The bond was never built on trust, and the soul link was always a looming threat. No matter how many pilots you went through, the link was never held as a gift, but a prison, something you would both be stuck with for the betterment of society, a sacrifice to make. 

You’d been expelled from the handler program after guiding your pilot to help save another in the wreckage of your first battle together, resulting in the damage of your pilot’s HERO. Your pilot was okay, but the other couldn’t be saved, and you were blamed for the damage of both mech’s. 

When you found the league (or when the league found you), you were working with the PLF, but proved to be a weak handler. Every pilot you were assigned to took advantage of your optimistic outlook on the kind of relationship dynamic that pilots had with their handlers. Despite all that you had been through at UA, and with the rest of the pilots you’d been paired with after, you never gave up the hope that handlers and pilots could behave as a team, or, even better, one entity. 

Tenko had taken one look at you and demanded you’d be transferred to the league. There hadn’t been much of a choice in the matter, not that you really cared. You were miserable everywhere else. But when you arrived at the abandoned academy and taken a peak behind the kudzu covered walls where each and every area of the building acted as multiple moving parts in collaboration with one another in order to create one massive system, you realized that this was the future you imagined for yourself—and for the world you lived in.

Tenko saw something in you that day, something you aren’t sure you even see in yourself. And so Dabi was your first task, one that’s proving to be very difficult. But he doesn’t treat you like all the other pilots before had. He doesn’t use you. In fact, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. And while that’s a problem, it’s still one you can work with. 

You’re broken from your thoughts by the sound of a voice through an overhead intercom asking for everyone to meet on the first floor of the academy at their earliest convenience. Judging by the quick movements of those around you, you figure you’d better head downstairs as soon as possible. 

The meeting on the first floor makes you very aware of just how small the league really is. While it’s definitely not a tiny organization, it’s still much smaller than both UA and the PLF. With everyone piled up like this in one group, you realize it feels more like a community, and the hum of conversation that surrounds you comforts you in a way you’ve never felt within the walls of any other academy before. 

There’s discussion about the upcoming mission, one which may be the league’s most ambitious yet; the plan to hijack a mech and kidnap a pilot may be a little unorthodox compared to the league’s past missions, but the jaded pilot they’re targeting has a high chance of joining the cause. Or that’s what they have assumed. As the bodies move and speak around you, it strikes you how different this meeting is from any other meeting you’ve ever been a part of. Tenko is less a dictator and more a wrangler for the disembodied voices of your peers. 

You don’t know much about his story, save for the vague details you’ve heard, but Tenko’s status as a lone handler is something you find yourself curious about. If he’s able to work without a pilot, why can’t you? It’s an idea you keep in your back pocket, one you think you can fall back on if things with Touya don’t work out. But you want them to work out. So badly. 

You aren’t sure what it is about him, but he’s reignited that spark inside of you. You know he’d rather you give up, and maybe the you from a couple of months ago would have, but something about him—and this place—won’t let you leave. 

As you observe the meeting, you take the time to look around the room, taking in your peers and their attentive faces as they listen to Tenko intently. You turn to your right, your eyes meeting a pair of blue ones, impossible to miss. Dabi holds your stare for what feels like ages, and when your colleagues erupt in a fit of many simultaneous discussions, you tear your eyes from his to observe the commotion. When you glance back in his direction, he’s gone. 

You don’t seem him again after that. You train with other handlers, get to know your peers a little better. Everyone else seems to be welcoming, and most offer you sympathy when they find out you’re Touya’s new handler. From what you can gather, he’s had his fair share of them, all of which have quit or left in hysterics due to his harsh nature. When you ask around about where he could be, you’re told that he’s most likely in the garage, a place you assume he’s in more often than not.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the garage. A place so completely different, so against the ideas and beliefs of any other academy you’ve been a part of, the chaos and community within is so foreign to you. You find Touya with Blue, working inside of her chest, where the cockpit is. 

“Touya!” You call up to him and watch as he peaks his head over the edge of her metal plating. Annoyance falling across his face, he jumps down from where he stands, landing hard on his feet in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” He questions, his figure so tall and imposing above you. He’s not particularly muscular, not even all that tall compared to Tenko, but he makes you feel small regardless, in more ways than one. Rolling your shoulders back, you stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down. 

“I figured you wanted your space today.” You explain, as Touya moves around you to get to his rolling cart of tools, forcing you to turn toward him and follow him if you want him to hear you. “I know adjusting to a new handler is rough, and I never want to make you uncomfortable. But I was thinking we could try some of those pilot/handler bonding exercises. It might be good to start training like some of the others do.”

He drops the wrench in his hand onto his cart with a loud thud, turning around toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “Pilot/handler bonding exercises? They really brainwashed the shit out of you at UA, huh?”

At the mention of your past academy, your eyes widen in surprise. You had no idea he knew about that. Clearing your throat in order to compose yourself, you speak again, “I left UA for a reason. I have no attachment to their methods, but you guys do the same stuff here, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I never asked for a fucking handler in the first place, especially not one as eager as you.” He spits, “Sure, you’re understanding now, all that bullshit about ‘giving me space,’ but the moment you get a lick of power over me, you’ll change. You’re not different.”

“I don’t want power over you. This is an equal exchange. Pilot’s and handlers are meant to be a team—” You try and argue, but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“That’s what they told you, right? We’re a team, and as teammates, you make sacrifices. And it doesn’t matter if one of you turns into the other’s braindead dog because that’s your place.” His words hit you hard, the exact thought process you went through when leaving UA, completely disillusioned with their idea of “teamwork.” He’s right, and you know it, but since coming here, you thought that wasn’t how it had to be.

“Look, trust me, I get—” You’re cut off again.

“You went to UA! There’s no trusting you.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’ll last here, anyway.”

“You are such a hypocrite! You’re from UA!” You retort, throwing your arms up in desperation. “You can hate me all you want. You can resist and resist and fry your brain ‘till there’s nothing left, but I believe in this shit. And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t, or tell me I’ll turn into something I worked so hard to get away from.”

Touya stands there, surprised by your outburst, completely unaware that you were capable of all of that. He doesn’t say anything back, and you roll your eyes. “So fuck you, and, by the way, her angel port is smoking.”

At your words, he turns in a rush, seeing the smoke billowing from Blue’s chest as he climbs his way up her form. Once inside his machine, he extinguishes the port and allows himself to relax. There are two things on his mind in this moment: how you could have possibly known it was the angel port without being inside of Blue’s chest and how, for the first time in a long time, he feels bad for his handler.

But for you, it’s the first time you’ve ever held your own against a pilot before, and that feels good.

…

Something feels weird.

Off, unsettling, strange.

He realizes, much to his dismay, that it’s your absence. Despite only having you around for such a short time, Touya has realized that your lack of presence now feels wrong. He hates it. He hates you. 

He can’t find you. You haven’t knocked on his door. You’re not in the caf, not the garage, not the sparring floor, not in your room. And he did check—without knocking. 

He’s not even sure how he can feel an absence. You aren’t a regular part of his life, and he never wanted you to be. But he feels all fucked up.

During training, Touya jams Blue’s halo core and she leaks vibrant neon from between her ribs. It takes him half an hour to get her reboot her system and rips one of the cables attached to the back of his suit in the process. He spends the afternoon cleaning HERO fluid off the sparring floor. 

During repairs, he shocks himself over and over while trying to fix her core, fingers burning from the sparks each time he arranges the wires inside. The cameras in her eyes won’t work from the reboot, and Blue won’t let him unlock the lens panel to fix it. It’s almost like she’s mad at him too.

He’s a complete mess. It’s your fault. He has no choice but to go looking for you. Again.

He searches every wing of the academy before concluding that you’re in your room. He barges through the joint door, spotting you at the counter in your tiny kitchen. You’re surprised by the intrusion, a frightened gasp falling from your lips as you jump in your seat. You turn toward him, prepared with angry words on your tongue, but Touya speaks first.

“You’re not getting an apology out of me, so don’t expect it.” He begins, moving to stand in front of your swiveling kitchen stool as he looks down at you. “But I’m willing to be civil with you, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what “this shit” is, but Touya looks a little worse for wear at the moment, so you don’t question it. He places a tray from the caf down in front of you that you hadn’t noticed in his hands upon arrival, says nothing else, and turns to leave the room. After shutting your joint door, you look down at the tray of food, noticing one of his suckers placed onto a vacant compartment of the tray. 

You’re greeted the next morning with a knock on your door, Touya dressed in his pilot’s suit on the other side as you swing the door open. “C’mon. You’re gonna watch me train today.”

You watch him turn around to leave, expecting you to follow. You rush to pull on your combat boots and grip your dog tags in your fist as you rush to catch up to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you fall into step beside him, taking a look around his dorm before he leads you through the exit door. 

“You need to get a feel for my fighting style.” He explains as you walk down the corridor. “I’m not saying I’ll listen to you when it comes down to it, but it’s important for you to know.”

You nod, agreeing that you should definitely observe him inside of his HERO. By understanding his moves, you’ll be able to understand the way he thinks, and you’ll be able to help him in actual combat if needed. He’s already said he won’t listen to you, but it won’t stop you from trying. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you, and you stop with him. 

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’m not your dog.” He tells you, seriously. He eye’s you up and down, taking in your expression as you nod at his words. “If anything, you’re mine.”

He begins walking again, leaving you in your spot, irritation filling your chest as you watch him, smug. “Asshole.” You curse under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He barks, turning to look at you abruptly.

“You’re an asshole.” You speak louder. He walks back toward you, making sure to tower over you intimidatingly as he looks down at you in annoyance. His eyes flicker down to the tags around your neck before hooking a finger on the chain and pulling you closer. 

“Watch it.” He drops the chain and walks away again. 

You follow him to the sparring floor, and he shows you where to go to watch. Stood behind a large window that looks over the sparring area, other members of the base watch the HERO’s engage in combat below. You spot Tenko and he motions for you to stand beside him. 

“I knew he’d warm up to you.” He comments. The last of the previous battle finishes and you watch the two enormous machines retreat to the sides of the area, their pilots emerging from their chests with their handlers rushing to the bottom of the mech’s in support. 

“He hasn’t. He’s not.” You shake your head. You aren’t sure why you deny it, if it’s some way to keep your expectations low or if there’s some kind of embarrassment aspect to the whole thing. Whatever is happening between you and Touya feels intimate and private, something that the two of you need to figure out for yourselves, not something meant for the eyes of others.

“Hm. Okay.” Tenko shrugs. “Guess not.”

You hadn’t noticed Touya enter his mech at all. You see the swing of one giant mechanic arm, too close to the window you stand behind, and you’ve shifted your full attention to the scene at hand. 

The enormity of the room surprises you, despite the fact that you had seen it just moments before. But when you’re truly looking at it, watching these huge machines go at each other, the way the ground shakes, the leaves outside shake, the deep forrest clear in view from the wall that opens out to the greenery (the lack of a wall is likely from the academy’s abandoned state, but it’s a good feature to have on the sparring floor when giant robots are toppled over onto various surfaces).

The way Blue moves is electric, mechanic movements almost feel fluid with the way that Touya pilots her, easily dodging attacks from their opponent and moving around them in the most graceful way a giant machine can. It’s beautiful, unlike any fighting style you’ve ever seen in a HERO before. 

“He’s showing off for you.” Tenko observes from beside you. You don’t argue with him, only because you can’t dispute it. This is your first time seeing him in action. It makes your heart beat out of your chest. There’s this ache like you should be inside with him, cables connected to both of you, tucked neatly inside of Blue together. 

It doesn’t take him long to get his opponent on their back, the heavy thump against the floor jostling the ant-like figures on the ground below, handlers waiting for their pilots to finish. It goes on like this for a while, his training, using different methods of combat and winning each time. He’s amazing, and you can tell why his reputation is the way it is, second only to Tenko, who you have yet to see in action. 

When he finishes his last session, you watch Blue walk to the edge of the room, and Touya emerges from her chest, jumping the long way down her body without any issue. You watch as he looks toward the window you’re behind. He waves at you, an acknowledgment of your presence, and you wave back, though you aren’t sure he can actually see you.

It’s the beginning of everything for the two of you. You think Tenko was right.

He lets you stay with him afterwards while he does maintenance on Blue. He helps you climb up the path to her chest, hauling you over the edge to sit inside with him. He turns around abruptly, holding a hand up before allowing you to walk any further.

“Do not touch anything.” He warns, completely serious, before letting his hand fall and allowing you further into the cockpit. You take in your surroundings, the guts of his machine, analyzing the different control panels and screens that line the interior. You can tell he takes good care of her, and he spends a lot of time in here. It looks lived in, stickers stuck to metal plating and pieces of him all over. He’s made a second home in between the ribs of his mech. You feel a little jealous, though you aren’t sure of what. 

The two of you sit against the left side of Blue’s interior, waiting for her updates to finish, the loading screen on each of her monitors display a fire graphic that grows with the increasing percentage on screen. Between you and Touya sits an opened bag of sour gummies, which Touya picks out the lemon flavor and drops the candy in your palm with each new handful he gathers. 

“How do you know all this stuff?” He questions around a mouthful of sour cherry, “Like, the real names for things, where stuff goes, how to fix them. That day with the wires…”

“I spent a lot of time around mechanics at UA, and then also at the PLF.” You explain, picking the yellow colored candy from his open palm as you speak. “I couldn’t connect with other handlers. I didn’t like how they thought, or how they viewed the pilot/handler relationship. Mechanics were mostly neutral, and they loved these machines like nothing else. They reminded me of why I joined UA in the first place.”

“Hm.” He nods, thinking about your past. “Well, I guess if you spent so much time around actual professionals…I could maybe use your help sometimes in the garage.”

“Really?” You question excitedly, a spark lighting up your eyes as you swerve your head toward him. He feels something tight in his chest at the sight.

“Yes, but only on the outside. I don’t want you messing with her insides, yet.” He establishes. “And never alone. I have to be there at all times.”

“Of course, yes, oh my god. Touya!” You smile, gripping his shoulder firmly, a gesture of thanks, communication of how much his trust means to you. “I’ll be so careful with her, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, you have no other choice.” He shrugs, throwing another pile of candy in his mouth. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

You take the threat seriously, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s realized that you’ve wormed your way into his life and he hadn’t even noticed just how entangled you were now. 

As the weeks go by, you spend a lot more time together. You work on blue together, and you rest inside of her chest, sometimes allowing yourself to drift off against his shoulder on especially tiring days. He sits beside you in the caf, and while he doesn’t always say much, the feeling of his arm against yours is comforting. You can tell people are starting to notice, and they’re starting to talk. You’re being dubbed someone who’s tamed him, but you know how far from the truth that is. 

Despite your differences and the petty arguments that come up when Touya feels like you’re intruding on his independence, you’re growing attached. You wonder if he is, too.

…

Spending time together in the garage becomes the new normal for the two of you. Being in each other’s dorms feels far too intimate, so you always meet in the garage. This way, one of you is always busy doing something with your hands. There’s no room for any strange feelings in the pit of your stomach to seep in. 

You sit in the crook of Blue’s neck, watching Touya as he repairs the lenses in her “eyes.” Blue has three pairs of eyes; in her head, her chest, and down near her hips, which all footage is projected onto monitors inside the cockpit so that Touya has a full view of what’s in front of him. 

He’s so peaceful while he works, you’ve noticed, almost like he goes somewhere else completely. It’s a part of him you don’t think many people get to see, a piece of him just for you, and you want to be selfish with it.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, leaning your head back against the metal. “But you can’t get mad.”

He looks up at you, still fiddling with a lens, a mocking look on his face. “I’m not making any promises.”

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the possible fallout of the question you’re about to ask, “What do you think about the soul link?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do it.”

You nod your head in understanding, “yeah, I get it. It’s weird, right? The idea that someone else would be inside your brain.”

“It’s fucking invasive.” He says.

“You know, at UA it always felt like a threat, you know. Like, it was a way for a handler to control their pilot, not a tool or a bond like it should be.” You begin, thinking back to how you viewed the soul link back then. You didn’t like how the bond was presented as this power that a handler holds over their pilot, a threat to keep their pilot in line. But, you could understand how the link could be used for good. “But since coming here, I can tell it’s not all bad. People trust each other here. I mean, there’s obviously some people who abuse it, but, for the most part, everyone seems to understand what it really means to be a pilot and a handler.”

You’re mostly just thinking out loud, but Touya doesn’t say anything to your ramblings. He continues to work on the lenses, and you can gather that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. But you can’t let it go, yet. There’s something you’ve been worried about since you met him.

“And what about…your brain? They say when a handler and a pilot don’t complete the soul link, the pilot will eventually fry their brain.” You can’t help it. You think about it all the time, what will happen when he can’t take it anymore. The closer you get to him, the realer it feels. “Are you ever worried about that?”

He looks at you, an expression you can’t quite make out fall across his face as he stares. It’s almost soft, the way he looks at you in this moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The truth is, this is a reality Touya has accepted. He’s not afraid to die, and he never has been. He’ll probably die inside of Blue, and he has no problem with that fact. He doesn’t need to be around for long, just enough to show his dad what he’s capable of.

“C’mon.” You stare. “That’s not fair.”

“Shit. I left some of the screws for this in my dorm.” He curses. He looks where you lounge, tucked into Blue’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

You watch him jump down, much higher than his usual height at her chest, but he lands anyway. He doesn’t turn to look back at you as he jogs away. You climb up the side of Blue, and look at the lenses in her head. They’re already repaired, and you know Touya used the excuse of missing screw just so he wouldn’t have to talk about the soul link.

But it’s the first time he’s ever left you alone with Blue before. 

…

As the mission draws closer, Touya throws himself into training. You’re on the training floor with him most days, standing behind that big glass panel as you watch him spar with his peers. He still doesn’t let you down on the floor with him until he’s full out of Blue and close enough to the edge of the sparring floor to get to you. You’re not allowed in the actual training area, and even though he says he doesn’t want you clinging to him, it’s really because he wants to keep you safe. Seeing your human body near the giant machines that are HERO’s makes him want to grab you and keep you inside of Blue’s chest forever. 

You can tell all the training is taking a toll on him. With an excess of headaches and the occasional nosebleed, you continuously get into arguments about him cutting back on training inside of Blue. There are other ways for him to prepare that don’t involve his fragile brain being hooked up to an entity that takes so much. He doesn’t listen.

Later and later into the night, as your fellow pilots and handlers disperse and return to their rooms to sleep, Touya stays inside of Blue, testing her movements and sparring against test dummies and obstacles. Once you and Touya are the only two left on the sparring floor, you speak into the intercom attached to your head.

“Touya, I think you should take a break.” You tell him, “It’s late. Get some rest and then we can pick it back up in the morning.”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m gonna stay for another hour. Get some sleep. I’ll be done soon.”

“No, Touya. You’ve been at it for hours. You barely took a break for dinner. C’mon.” 

“You know, you sound awfully like a handler trying to tell their pilot what to do.” He teases, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

“You are insufferable. I’m worried about you.” You groan.

“I’m fine. Go sleep.” He insists.

“If I find out you aren’t out of here in an hour—” Your line is promptly cut off, leaving behind static in your ear. You sigh and throw your com to the side. You hope he’s telling the truth.

With one last look at Blue, you make your way out of the training floor and find your way back to your dorm. 

Touya doesn’t answer the door when you knock the next morning. With a frustrated groan, you leave your dorm and head to the training floor, assuming he woke up early to get some extra hours in. The closer you get the the floor, you notice other members of the base rushing in front of you. Feeling panicked, you pick up the pace, jogging toward the training room to make sure something isn’t wrong. You collide with a body in front of you, nearly falling to the floor as you steady yourself. Toga stands in front of you, her cheeks red and eyes glossy as she explains something your mind can’t catch up to understand. The only thing you recognize is his name, and you’re running toward the training floor in an instant. 

You watch as Blue stomps around the area, her arms swinging in all directions, losing her footing as she moves. Knowing you can’t do anything on the floor, you make your way up to the overlook, finding Tenko yelling into your intercom. 

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” You ask him, pulling the headset off of his head and placing it on yours instead. 

“He’s out of fucking control. He won’t answer. I don’t even think he’s conscious in there.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in anxiety. “You’re not linked yet, are you?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes in frustration as you try to think. You know it’s the only way. You have to take some of the burden off of him, make him share it with you. It’s the only way he’ll survive right now. “Do you think you can get into Decay right now and knock him down somehow?”

He hesitates, “I can get inside. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to touch him at all.”

“You have to.” You plead, desperately. “I just need him down for ten seconds, tops. As long as I can get inside of her, I can save him.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, and maybe you are. But you know you can’t live with yourself if you don’t try something. Tenko nods.

“I can do it.” He tells you. You rush passed him, following the stairs down to the training area. You feel Tenk grab your wrist firmly. “You bring him back, okay?”

“I will.” You nod. 

He dodges Blue’s movements, weaving between her legs as he finally makes it to Decay. It takes a few moments for him to connect, but he goes straight for Blue. You watch the giant machines fight one another, but it’s clear that Blue’s lack of control hinders much of her ability. She needs Touya just as much as he needs her. It’s tough for Decay to dodge her swinging arms, but Tenko manages to knock her down quickly.

The fall shakes the room, but you waste no time running for Blue. Climbing over the side of her, you manage to touch your thumb to the pad on the outside to open her chest up. She begins to stand up, and you slip down, grabbing onto a bar beneath her ribcage. You let out a frustrated groan as you try to pull yourself up over the edge of the cockpit. Finally making it over, you see Touya sitting there, still connected to his pilot’s chair, eyes glazed over and blood gushing from his nose. You push the button that closes the panel in Blue’s chest, and you’re suddenly alone with him. 

Touya’s body is being jerked around by the movement of the mech, and you hang onto the walls of her chest in order to make your way to him. You situate yourself in his lap, taking his head in your hands as you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“You fucking asshole! I told you to take a break.” You sob, resting your head against his as you try and think of what to do next. “Touya, please. Please, baby, I need to you come back. Just fucking come back so I don’t have to do this without your permission, please.”

With no response from him, you wipe your tears, coming to terms with the fact that you have to complete the soul link now, or he’ll die. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Touya. Please forgive me.”

The soul link isn’t exactly an action so much as it is a feeling, an experience. There’s no trigger for it, no way to make it happen. It just begins. 

It’s Touya, aged thirteen, wild, chubby-cheeked and happy, in the pilot’s seat of his father’s HERO. It’s his drive, his determination, his anger, his hurt. It’s the day he snuck into battle, the day he couldn’t get out, flesh burning and fusing to the metal walls of his mech, the feeling now deep in your skin. It’s you, aged fifteen, hopeful, alive, shaking hands with your first pilot. It’s your heart, much too big and much too open for your line of work, it’s your passion, your fire, every piece of you that was broken down again and again until there was nothing left. It’s Touya and it’s you, and every single bit of your souls now tied together in one big knot. 

There’s nothing but darkness. And then there’s screaming. And then you can hear everything. Every thought running through Touya’s brain right now echoes in your head as you slowly come back to yourself. He can hear the same of yours.

It’s overwhelming at first, to have two sets of thoughts in your head at the same time, but you manage to focus. You can feel an anger inside of you like you’ve never felt. It’s almost like it’s your own. You need to come back. You’ve lost control of Blue.

In an instant, you feel yourself come back to your body, now straddling Touya like before, you feel his arms shoot around you and he tucks his chin over your shoulder to pilot Blue like he’s used to doing. He pays no mind as he presses up against you, but you feel your heart rate increase at the closeness. 

He’s so close.

I have to be. You’re in my lap.

Shit. I didn’t think—

Clearly.

I can’t fucking believe you. I told you we weren’t going to do this.

You were dying!

Then you fucking let me!

You’re jostled around in his lap for a moment as he stops Blue from destroying any more of the training floor, and Touya wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady.

He gains control of her quickly, moving her toward the edge of the room. You tuck your face into his neck, not wanting to distract him and keeping your thoughts at bay so you don’t overwhelm him. He powers Blue down, severing the neural connection between the two of you, and shoves you from his lap and into the pilot’s chair like you’ve burned him. He storms out of the cockpit, climbing out of his machine and leaving you inside. You think about the argument you had within each other’s head, how Touya would have rather died than be linked to you like he is now. 

You slump against the seat, comforted by the metal cage you’ve been left inside of. 

[digitalsymbiote]

Your first Sync

The first time you step into your mechs cockpit, it is with something like reverence. You'd been preparing for this moment for months (well, your entire life, really); hours upon hours in the training sims, harsh training regimens, a drug cocktail of neuro-stims, and a whole suite of pilot integration augments grafted onto your body.

You swear you can feel the metal beneath your skin buzzing with anticipation as you settle into the cradle custom built just for you. Not just any pilot can fly any Mech. Each Mech is custom built for their pilot, and each pilot is molded to fit that Mech. A strange kind of synthetic symbiosis, irreplacable partners. You aren't entirely sure why that is the case, the ads are always hazy on those details, but you've always seen each Mech with the same pilot, standing triumphantly alongside each other.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you wonder what it will feel like, to finally integrate with your Mech. You've dreamt of this moment since the first time you saw the propaganda vids. Giant metal machines of war, and their integrated organic pilots. You'd felt a longing then, one you didn't quite understand, a longing for steel plates and thundering autocannons. It wasn't until years later that you finally recognized that feeling as dysphoria.

But now you're finally here, finally about to cross that threshold and grasp what you'd dreamt of all those years ago.

You relax into the cradle and let the integration systems come to life. The cockpit closes around you and you feel the cold metal of the link cables sliding into the ports grafted onto your body. You shiver, both from the cold, and the anticipation.

click

A deluge of data rushes through your mind, integration processes blinking through your awareness as sensations expand out of your flesh body and into your new metal one. It's overwhelming, it's joyous, it's… Euphoric. You feel tears running down the cheeks of your flesh body before the synchronization is even complete. For the first time in your life, you feel… whole.

And then it speaks.

"Welcome, Pilot Caster."

That's… the voice of the training AI…? You recognize it from the simulation runs. What is it doing here, in your Mech?

"I am Integrated Mechanized Personality Construct designation P-Zero-L-X." The voice is being broadcast straight into your thoughts, you realize. Somehow that doesn't bother you. "It is good to see you again."

Something finally clicks for you, hearing that. This wasn't just a training AI, this was your training AI. All those hours in the simulation chamber, the techs had been calibrating this IMP to your neural system. You smile at that. You couldn't ask for a better companion.

"Good to see you too, Polux." You respond, knowing that the techs had tailored this IMPs designation just for you. It was a nice touch, that nod to Pilot tradition. "it's nice to finally meet you properly."

You feel her smile back, warmth flooding your chest as the docking clamps finally release your shared body.

"All systems are green, ready to launch on your mark, Pilot Caster."

Your muscles tense, flesh and metal alike, quivering in excitement. Your afterburners ignite in preparation.

"Mark!"

[therocketeer0501]

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (mech pilot AU)

Warnings/TW: blood, weapons, mention of torture, robot gore, human experimentation (shockwave is shockwave), language, and peril. (I’ll add more as I post)

(Author note: Before I get started I wanted to get a few things out of the way. This is my own AU and doesn’t really lend itself to much existing media. Gonna mash a few continuities together. This is in no way a professional writing by any means. I am not running it past a beta or anything so it’s going to be rough. I wanted to write this for myself and share it with y’all! This is my silly nonsense. That being said if I don’t clarify something or if something doesn’t make sense please submit an ask and I will promptly explain! Now without further ado. Here is the anticipated first chapter of Emptiness machine! Thank you all for waiting.)

Read first

Data log entry #857

Date: 003029 Time: 0700

Time since first contact: 2 years, 4 months, 7 days

What began as a national defense strategy became one of the most complex military operations in the history of the world. Project Archangel, founded by Dr. Zinovy Antonov, began under the pretense of creating the world’s first mechanized army. He started his research long before we found out we weren’t alone out here among the stars. With the arrival of the Cybertronian visitors came the fear that humanity was not only vastly outgunned, but also grossly unprepared to deal with any threat from deep space. Dr. Antonov pleaded with the government to allow him near the deactivated body of one of the Cybertronians, who was discovered after a battle had broken out between factions.

He studied their biology and created what he dubbed the perfect exoskeleton. Fueled by chemical X, also known as Energon, and operated by none other than the human soul itself. There weren’t many volunteers to undergo the rigorous training and testing that these pilots had to go through. But with the help of Cybertronian Autobot scientists, Project Archangel was finally given the green light to move forward. Only three pilots made it through the initial testing.

Pilot: Seraphim, Pilot: Uriel, and Pilot: Michael.

With their functioning mecha, these pilots were meant to assist the Autobot Cybertronians in keeping earth from being terraformed by the opposing Cybertronian facton, the Decepticons.

Which brings us to the present. We have had zero contact with the other faction known as the Decepticons until two months ago. The Autobots insisted we keep our distance and only deploy Project Archangel as a last resort. Keeping the humans out of the conflict was essential if they wanted to stay neutral in the eyes of the Decepticons. As far as we know, no Decepticon has ventured down to the planet’s surface from their airship Nemesis to interact with the population. Only sending drones to wreak havoc on areas rich in Chemical X.

However, in recent months, there have been sightings of Decepticon officers and scientists (identified by Autobot command) on the planet’s surface. It was decided that we bring Project Archangel out of the shadows and deploy them on a scouting mission alongside several Autobots. We only hope that we haven’t made a grave mistake.

Chapter 1

You let yourself be pulled through the spiral of light emanating from the ground bridge. Traveling via the alien tech was a feeling that no one could describe. The closest thing to it was like having a magnet in your chest be pulled faster than your brain could register before spitting you back out on the other side. It had taken many practice runs for you to not throw off your stabilizers and stick the landing. Though it still made you dizzy and a bit sick.

After landing behind Bee in a heavily wooded area, you quickly scan the trees for energy signatures. Your scanners were only programmed to detect the Decepticon drones and of course the energy signatures of your comrades. Bumblebee signaled for you to fall in behind him and you promptly obeyed. You could feel the way your heart pounded against your ribcage where your body rested snug inside the metal chest of your mech. Your consciousness flawlessly divided between the two bodies. One living metal, and one flesh. Energon flowed steady through your lines as you tried to calm the slight tremor of your hand that came with the rush of adrenaline.

Ahead you could see the energon mine in the waning light. A clearing with a large metal structure in the center. The two huge metal doors at the entrance had been blown wide open to reveal the tunnel that went deep inside the earth to extract the precious ore. The human sentries, once posted outside, were nowhere to be found. Vehicles were overturned and some still smoldered where they had been hit with plasma bolts. You switch to internal comms so you can communicate with Bee without anyone on the outside hearing.

“Second wave in twenty. Nineteen….”

You slowly count down the seconds until the others arrive so you can rush the structure together. Adjusting your grip on your rifle you study entrance trying to imagine just what awaited you inside. Clearly a monster. Looking to your left you see Bumblebee gripping his null ray, an uncharacteristically stoic look on his face. You had some form of friendship with all the autobots, but you were closest to the little yellow scout. Perhaps it was shared interest or the fact that he seemed more your age. Whatever the case, you had shared so many things with each other over the two ish years that you had been a part of Project Archangel. Only once did you ask him about his home.

He looked saddened at the question and at first you thought he wouldn’t answer you. But he did. You spent the better part of a day listening to how he didn’t know Cybertron before it had been nearly obliterated by the war. It had been a planet filled with culture, music, and arts. No factions to speak of. A united Cybertron. But then came the slow divide of the classes. The divide grew until there were only the obscenely wealthy, and those who had nothing. That’s when, from the pits of Kaon, came the leader of the Decepticon faction.

Megatron.

Bumblebee described him as charismatic and well spoken. Someone bots wanted to rally behind. Many of the Autobots started out as Decepticons in the early days of the war. Taking down the government brick by brick until nothing remained. When it came time to build a new government, Megatron wasn’t satisfied. He wanted all the bots and their families who dared oppress him gone. Obliterated until nothing was left. He ended up doing exactly that. This cost him many followers and eventually after many thousands of years, his home. He didn’t stop. Blaming the Autobots for the lack of energon and destruction on Cybertron.

With a dead world and nowhere to go, the Autobots turned to the libraries in what was left of Iacon. There they found records of worlds seeded with energon by the 13 original Primes. A failsafe in case something were to happen to Cybertron. Optimus Prime lead the remaining Autobots off world to look for a suitable new home. Of course Megatron followed. They tore their way through 11 uninhabited worlds while trying to find one that suited them best. Stripping the worlds of their energon before moving on to the next. Earth was the first seeded world to have intelligent life. Optimus made it his sole mission to keep that intelligent life from having to endure the horrors of the war they brought with them.

It was nearly impossible due to the ever present evil that lurked in the sky. The Nemesis, like a dark cloud, hung overhead when you looked up. What kind of monsters would tear apart their home just to make a point? You were about to find out. A ground bridge portal appeared nearly blinding her as she adjusted her optics to its harsh blue light. Four bots landed and immediately began sprinting towards the entrance. Your peds began to automatically move. The yellow scout close on your heels as the two of you followed your comrades inside. Drones swarmed around you the instant you broke the entrance. Inside you could see Cliffjumper, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and one of your brothers in arms Michael. His mech was a heavy class. Not very good at maneuvering but excellent at breaking things. Throwing a drone into a wall with the butt of your rifle, you turn to Bee and chuckle over comms.

“I was expecting more of a fight. This is a fairly average number of drones.”

He didn’t reply right away as he tried to pull a drone off of one of the lambo twins. You couldn’t tell which one because of the sheer number of bodies trying to suffocate the bot. Using your jump jets you propel yourself forward and into the pile sending a good number of the drones flying. They broke easily, not filled with much energon either. It made you wonder just how the Decepticons managed to manufacture so many drones while the Autobots controlled the energon. With the last of the drones dispatched, you look around and regroup with the others. Slowly you start moving further into the mine. Eventually it would open up into a huge cavern. It would be beautiful if not for the dread that had settled over the group like a thick fog. Suddenly your comm crackled to life as Sideswipe replied to your earlier comment in Bumblebee’s stead.

“We’ll get a good fight eventually. These tin cans are just the appetizer for the main course. It’s confirmed, Shockwave is here. I’ve been itching to dig my fist into that lone optic of his.”

He emphasized his excitement by sending his fist into the shoulder of his brother. The golden bot gave him a sour look but didn’t retort like he normally would have. The energy of the Autobots had been stoic ever since it was confirmed that the first Decepticon on scene was Shockwave. You had no idea what to expect. You knew Shockwave was a scientist and known for his cruel and unusual experiments during the war on Cybertron. He created the most horrific weapons used in the Great War, so he must be someone to fear at the very least.

As you make your way down, you begin to hear a long drawn out noise. Almost like a squeaky door hinge but amplified, bouncing off the walls of the mine shaft. Then there was the screaming. You had wondered what happened to the sentries who were stationed outside. Now you knew. A deep voice rumbled from up ahead. It was cold, unfeeling, and filled you with dread.

“Test 8 unsuccessful. Most illogical. Send another.”

There was that horrible sound like metal rending and then another shriek cut short. Before a sigh of resignation came from nearby. It wasn’t Shockwave who made the noise of dissatisfaction. Another Decepticon. Your heart pounded as you look over at your fellow bots to see if they heard the same thing you did. If their wide optics were any indication, they had. Two Decepticons. Not just one. You listened closely as the other bot seemed to pace back and forth in front of the opening to the cavern. You and your companions were split on either side of the entrance, listening but not yet entering the space.

The other Decepticon doesn’t speak and suddenly he goes eerily silent. It made your hair stand on end and you almost felt like you were being watched. Could Decepticons see through reinforced steel? You shook your helm at the thought. No way. But after a heartbeat he said something that had your heart in your throat.

“Shockwave wrap it up. We aren’t alone.”

Cliffjumper growled into his comm in recognition of the voice.

“Spinster. He’s going to be trouble.”

[theresattrpgforthat]

hi!!! i really love Dream Askew but can never find anyone to play. maybe because the GMless mechanic is intimidating, idk. can you recommend other games with similar themes of queerness and community?

THEME: Queer Community

oh my god, you have no idea how easy this one was, this is my shit.

Bump in the Dark (Revised Edition), by Jex J. Thomas.

It's 1994 in the region of the fictional Ontonagon Peninsula known as "Iron Country," a belt of mining towns barely clinging to life. These towns are surrounded on all sides by the Sylvan Wilds, a forest known for old-growth pines and strange happenings. All of Iron Country seems to be teeming with the supernatural, a fact those in power would like to conceal.

You are a hunter, and you’ve promised to keep regular people safe from the horrors in the darkness. You will investigate the strange happenings going on throughout Iron Country, attempting to put the pieces together and stop the monsters before people get hurt. Will you be able to stop the malevolent forces before their power grows too strong to contain? Will you stand strong with your found family and community or will you sacrifice yourself to spare the ones you love? Will you be lost trying to find solace wherever you can?

Inspired by media like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, X-Files, Twin Peaks, Supernatural, and more, Bump in the Dark: Revised Edition is a game of supernatural mystery and action-packed showdowns with regular folk caught in the middle. It's a game about chosen family, protecting your community, and standing up to the forces (mundane and supernatural alike) that want to tear down all you've built.

Bump in the Dark first caught my eye because it is all about monster-hunting, and monsters always make me perk up a little bit, but it also caught my interest because it marries the Theorize roll from games like External Containment Bureau and Apocalypse Keys with the Forged-in-the-Dark system, which, if you’ve followed my for any length of time, you’ll know I am a very very big fan of.

However, the game is also set in a place that feels abandoned and forgotten about by the powers that be, with the monsters acting as active opponents that threaten Last Pine’s ability to take care of itself. Your characters are all professional monster hunters, but you’re also a family, likely borne of necessity more than anything else, and that feels very queer to me.

Bump in the Dark is currently funding for it’s revised edition on Backerkit, but you can also find it in the TTRPGs for Palestine bundle!

Extreme Meatpunks Forever, by Sinister Beard Games.

"In the beginning, there was meat. A decaying chunk of flesh from a dying god, hurtling through the void of space, thousands of miles wide. A million eyes, a billion hands grasping for purchase against nothingness itself.  This is where we live.

EXTREME MEATPUNKS FOREVER is a tabletop roleplaying game where you’ll play as a gang of queer antifascists in a strange place called Meatworld. Spinning through space on the screaming corpse of a dead god under the glow of an absent sun, the people of Meatworld harvest its flesh to make their technology.

That tech includes meatmechs, giant flesh suits you can pilot. You’ve got one of these mechs, which is just as well, because Meatworld is full of monsters, old gods, a land that wants to eat you alive and so, so many fucking Nazis. You’ll play to bash the fash, explore the weirdness that is Meatworld, attack and dethrone god(s), solve mysteries like a gore dripping Scooby Gang, deal with trauma, and if you’re lucky, make out with your friends. 

Extreme Meatpunks Forever is a game that includes high action and combat alongside your attempts to make connections with each-other. It’s a PbtA game that draws from games such as MASKS, Thirsty Sword Lesbians, and Monster of the Week, which means that even though you’ll be fighting fascists, you’ll also be pushing each-others buttons, revealing the most vulnerable parts of yourselves, and heavily making out. If you want drama, action, and more drama, you want Extreme Meatpunks Forever.

Under Hollow Hills, by Meguey & Vincent Baker.

There is a traveling circus under the Hollow Hills. It travels by moonlight, small wagons creaking in the night silence. It travels lost roads, where fireflies and whisps hover to watch it pass, where goblins peer down from their treebranch perches, and owls. It travels the night world and the day world, fairyland and the living earth, and places otherwise, and no border can keep it. It has mysteries to pose, drama to perform, it has music, juggling, acts of death-defying peril, pratfall comedy. It has dangerous secrets to tell.

Step up, step up. Come great, come small, come revelers all!

Many of the roles of Under Hollow Hills feel like they are defined in relation to each-other; for example, the Crowned Stag is who they are because of who their parents are and who they have authority over. This game also expects much of what you do with each-other to matter; will you confront someone in order to get them to change their behaviour, or draw them out in order to understand how they are feeling?

Your identity in Under Hollow Hills is also defined in relation to something; the seasons. When it is Summer you are expected to have one presentation and set of pronouns; that presentation and pronouns may differ in Winter. This means that the role that you provide is much more constant than anything so easily changed as gender. Since your role is more permanent, this also means that character progression isn’t really expected in Under Hollow Hills; rather, the community that you participate in (the circus) is designed to grow and change. Under Hollow Hills creates subtle connections between players that encourages them to play with power, vulnerability, and identity, and I think that’s really beautiful.

Mutants in the Night, by Orion D Black.

It's the year 2044.  

Mutants have been struggling to survive since humanity divided in two, 10 years ago. They now live in Mutant Safe Zones; rundown slums and ghettos surrounded by mighty walls, to placate humanity's fear of the unknown.   

The law stands against them. Enforcers stand above them. Opportunity stands before them.  

Mutants are such a poignant metaphor for all kinds of marginalization. On top of that, the Crew aspect of Forged in the Dark games give your characters a reason to work together, as well as a common goal, which is why I think they work so well at giving you a community that you can care for.

I’m also interested in games that ask questions about community in a world that is not perfect - just like in Dream Askew, the characters of Mutants in the Night live in a world that at best, does not care about them, and at worst, desires to harm them. If you want a game that provides no easy answers and overwhelming odds, you might be interested in Mutants in the Night.

Dungeon Bitches, by Dungeon Bitches.

In Dungeon Bitches, the world is harsh and cold. “Polite” society has left you with no place, so you’ve struck out to find one of your own. Out into the dark cracks and forgotten margins. It’s not an easy life, but at least it won’t be a lonely one.

Dungeon Bitches is a game about queer women banding together. It’s about trauma. It’s about community. It’s about pain. It’s about survival. But most of all, it’s very gay.

This is a PbtA game that provides randomly-generated dungeons meant to freak out and push your Bitches to their limit, and therefore also push them closer together, demanding that they figure out how to talk to each-other and work together if they’re going to survive. This is a game about community forged in hardship, with plenty of ways to explore intimacy, whether that be sexual or non-sexual.

The creators of this game have a number of supplements to allow you to play the game in various settings, including Death Spiral (dieselpunk body-horror), Crooked Mile (90’s grunge), and The Wounded, Hungry & Forgotten (monsters).

Moonlight on Roseville Beach, by R. Rook Studio.

Queer pulp meets cosmic horror! It's 1979, and you're spending the summer working in Roseville Beach, the queerest little town on Rose Island. You might have come here looking for an escape, some fun, a little extra money, or even love, but now people are seeing phantasms, strange animals—and stranger old gods—wander the woods, mysterious monoliths appear randomly, and that strange music is coming from somewhere.

As a setting, Roseville Beach is a queer community on a small island, and because it’s a queer community, it’s kind of ignored by law enforcement. This means that your characters are the ones responsible for investigating the strange things happening around the community, as well as protecting their family and neighbours from whatever is lurking out there.

Characters are built from tropes, with customizable backgrounds that take the form of pick lists (and I love a good pick list). Each character also has their own specific problem, like the the Scandalous’ scandal, or the troubles associated with being a Shifter. Your session zero is also expected to be rather generative, with special strange events set up for each character that also give you a skill or ability. If you like pulp stories and tensions that are specific to the community you live in, you’ll want to check out Moonlight on Roseville Beach.

You can pick this game up as part of the TTRPGs for Palestine Bundle!

Also…

Of course, I’m also going to drop a quick plug for my game, Protect the Child, which is full of metaphors about queerness and found family. I've been ruminating on themes like marginalization, parenthood, and children's rights for this one, and so far the play-testing has had some really positive feedback! (Rules update coming out later this month!)

You might also be interested in some of the submissions to the Hot Mutant Summer Jam that ran last month!

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Here, There, be Monsters!, by Wendi yu.

Exceptionals, by Bramble Wolf Games.

Turn, by Beau Jágr Sheldon.

Yazeba’s Bed & Breakfast, by Possum Creek Games.

Those Of Us Who Know Better, by C.J. Linton.

Apocalypse Keys, by Rae Nedjadi.

Past Recommendation Posts That Kinda Fit the Vibe

Make It Gay

Post-Apocalyptic Community

*Romanticizes the Monstrous*

Genderfuckery

Lycanthropic and Transsexual

Urban Monsters

[luvtonique]

Can we have more info on Xi'iX?

Sure!

Xi'iX is an alien worm called a xAvAx, piloting a humanoid mech made of meat kept alive via electricity. The mech is called an AvA frame.

Their species live on a planet called xOx, which is the heart of a titan species of galaxy-sized humans that used to live in space and are now extinct. They keep the heart beating by emitting electricity through their wormy bodies, and build mechanical devices out of the "ore" of the planet which is meat ore.

Their planet is neighbored by 3 stars in a constant state of falling into a black hole, creating a celestial solar storm that they call O.

Their entire species is electricity based, eating and manipulating lightning through their worm bodies, making them extremely good hackers and able to drain or charge electronic devices instantly.

They're also obsessed with symmetry, and their written language is entirely consisting of symmetrical crop circles. Their native language is also just electrical spark sounds and they speak entire books in an instant bzzt sound.

Xi'iX is a former princess who is on the run from a religious cult called the oXo that gained a lot of political power on her planet by convincing the xAvAx that if they increase their body's polarity via upgrading their AvA frames to the point that lightning strikes them and incinerates them, they're "being chosen by O" and therefore are maintaining the solar storm.

Power going to the head of X, the religious leader of the oXo, made him eventually convince the xAvAx that O was collapsing and therefore they needed to sacrifice the royals.

Xi'iX, being a princess, was taken by a soldier girl named AvivA who helped her escape and told her to fly through a wormhole to be safe.

Xi'iX is also part of an old religion called MiliM, who worshipped humans since humans have a heart exactly like their planet, and so they believe humans are descendants of the titans. Therefore, she has designed her AvA to look attractive to humans so that she can befriend them and live among them.

But she hasn't told them that her species is chasing her and might invade any second.

She's kind of a huge ditz.

But she gets to have fun sex with humans!

(All of this is based on a single dream I had about her 15-ish years ago)

[admiral-mason]

You Reap What You Sow - Chapter 10

Genshin Impact SAGAU x Iron Harvest 1920+

Sights to Behold

As you and Childe walked side to side discussing his family, you took the time to point out how sunny the day was. "Man, it's quite sunny today. And here I thought Snezhnaya was known for its month-long blizzards..."

Childe's interest was piqued by your comment. "Now that you mention it, your grace, There hasn't been any blizzard ever since you arrived. One of the agents said that when you arrived and slept for the night, smaller blizzards across various towns stopped!"

Despite Childe having more experience than you at fishing (you never even really went fishing other than trying it out as a kid), you somehow caught more fish than he did. They kept swarming to your line even without bait. You filled your bucket within a few minutes, so much so that you decided to stop fishing because you didn't even know what to do.

"I guess Teyvat really does love you, comrade!" Childe exclaimed as you just looked at your giant stash of fish. "What are we going to do with all of this?" You asked.

"I'm taking my share home for my family. You can do what you want with yours, so see ya, your grace." Childe said, right before you heard the sounds of rapid gunfire close by. This slightly startled you as you ended up falling into the snow. Thankfully, you still had your coat on, so you didn't feel that cold from the impact as Childe helped you up. "Are you okay??" He asked.

"I'm fine, Childe." Suddenly, you heard the sound of a mechanism before an explosion followed it. "The sounds are coming from over there," you said. "I wonder what's going on," Childe responded. The two of you grabbed your fishing equipment and walked on over to the source of the sounds.

It turned out to be a bunch of Rusviet soldiers alongside Il Capitano and Lev Zubov testing equipment and mechs. You saw a heavy machine gun, SHM-60 Groza exosuits, and varying mechs. Lev Zubov was there as well.

The crew on the heavy machine gun fired another burst as they mowed down a group of training dummies. A Kolokol that was present then fired a bomb at the dummies, turning them into wooden bits. "...Impressive," Capitano remarked. Childe simply watched at his first glance at the technology of another world of yours, seemingly eager to fight them as you saw his smile.

"Our world's technology at its finest," Lev Zubov responded, "and more on the way shortly." The duo then noticed you and Childe before facing you two. "Your grace," they both responded before giving a quick bow. "...Uh- no need for that-" You responded as you awkwardly looked at the two men. You then went back to watching what seemed to be combat tests. "Do you mind I stay and watch?"

"Of course not, your grace!" Zubov said. "Come, watch along." He motioned for you to walk to an area with better viewing as Childe followed. "So these are the war machines in your world? Heh, let's see their performance." He spoke.

The Kolokol walked off the field by this point. The next mech, a PZM-7 Smialy, was the next to be tested. "That thing's darn skinny compared to Ruin Guards... and seemingly less destructive." Childe spoke. "The thing's fast though, Childe." You replied. "It's a scout, not a one-man-army."

"I bet I can literally set up a tripwire and the thing would tumble over." Childe said as the Smialy shot its cannon in the likeness of a rifle at the training dummies, blowing some of them up. It then charged at a larger dummy, impaling its head. The Smialy then walked off the field as the pilot exited, stretching his arms and legs while doing so.

"I would like whoever designed this seat have to sit in it," he said. He then noticed you and casually saluted. "Good day, your grace." He said before walking to a nearby bench and drinking a bit of water.

Capitano looked at the damage the Smialy could do and nodded. He then noticed an SHM-68 Nakovalnya nearby. "What is that thing?" He asked Zubov. "It... looks like a pipe organ." Zubov responded to Capitano's question with glee on his face. "That there, my friend, is a Nakovalnya. It's an artillery mech that fires a barrage of rockets at whatever needs to be destroyed." Capitano's interest piqued as he ordered for the Nakovalnya to be tested.

"Rockets? Now I'm interested," Childe said. The two of you watched as the Nakovalnya's single crew member got into its cockpit and moved the mech a fair distance away from the training area. "I suggest we all stand back. This thing's explosions can be quite indiscriminate." You lightly beckoned Childe to stand back as you and everyone else did the same.

"Rockets away!" The pilot exclaimed as twelve rockets were fired on the dummies, hitting their general vicinity. After the smoke cleared, nothing remained. Childe looked at the destruction with a bit of shock in his eyes. "...That thing just turned those dummies into nothing but splinters..."

"That's indiscriminate firing for ya." You responded back to Childe. Then, you picked up on metal footsteps in the distance. You turned towards the general direction of the sound and saw an SHM-70 Gulyay-Gorod slowly walking its way over here alongside Sandrone on its left. Childe also looked and looked at the towering mech.

"That right there, is Rusviet's largest and finest mech." Zubov said, looking over the huge mech's tall profile. "...I have no words to say to this thing." Childe bluntly replied. "Shocked?" The female pilot responded. "Watch what this thing can do." She walked her mech up to the training grounds before noticing that nothing was there for her to kill.

"Did you all have fun without me?" She asked, a bit of anger in her voice. "Get us some more targets," Capitano ordered to some Fatui soldiers. Soon, another set of targets was set up. Sandrone got a bit closer to the training grounds, eager to see the Gulyay-Gorod in action.

"Alright, watch this." The pilot said before firing three times from the mech's right-mounted main gun. Being an anti-mech gun, it didn't make large explosions. She then fired a devastator rocket from the left side's rocket launcher. This rocket, being more of an anti-infantry missile, blew a medium-sized crater into the fields and utterly turning the dummies to shreds.

"I honestly now feel bad for the dummies..." Childe said. "Yep, and to think that there's more of these things..." You responded back.

Genshin Impact is owned by miHoYo. Iron Harvest 1920+ is owned by Jakub Różalski and KING Art Games.

[dumbasswithapen]

You're reblogging some fantastic stuff about The Mechs (coming from a tma fan) is there anything else you can tell me about it? I'm deadly curious and very interested in seeing more of Jon Sims' work

hello!!!! I am so normal about the mechanisms (lying) but am not good at describing things so if you want, like, The Intro Post To The Mechs than @x-ca1iber has it and that’s much more fine tuned but I shall try my best! This may be… a bit of an infodump, and not very concise.

base content warnings for mechs, not this post but the mechs as a band and their stories: violence, so much violence, lots of death, war, general tragedy, British people (ew)

okay. So. The basics! The Mechanisms were a 9 person folk cabaret band who told stories in their albums and songs that were based on mythology and stories (more on that later)

Outside of these stories they played individual characters, a space, steampunk pirate crew of immortals roaming the universe aboard a sentient starship named the Aurora and finding tragedies to tell through their albums. They're, as I mentioned, immortal, through a mechanism (not to be confused with The Mechanisms, the name of their crew lol. They weren’t very creative with that) A mechanism is a replacement for a part (or in some cases several parts) of one’s body made of metal and shit, that causes regeneration if you die. And this shit isn’t light, it is totally possible to regen from being, for instance… shoved into a sun for a century. so basically, crew of immortals making stories they witness into albums and playing the roles of people in those stories.

For a fan of tma, the most recognizable part of this is 4 people in the crew (though only 3 are major characters in tma) Jonny Sims, of course, plays Jon in tma and Jonny D’ville (he/him) in the mechanisms. (He is… perhaps not the most creative with naming his character) Jonny D’ville is the first mate (NOT captain. Though he would say he was) of the Aurora, and his mechanism is his heart. He was the first person in the crew, and the first to become immortal. He’s also the lead singer, and plays harmonica. Frank Voss plays Basira in tma, and in the mechs plays Ashes O’Reilly (they/them) an arsonist crime boss, ship’s quartermaster, whose mechanism is their lungs! Jessica Law plays Nikola Orsinov in tma, and in the mechs she plays The Toy Soldier (it/its) The Toy Soldier is… a bit of an outlier, in that it wasn’t ever mechanized, wasn’t ever ���made” immortal. It is simply a sentient clockwork toy, with a voice box stolen from a human it had been in love with. (Somehow jess is typecast as an unsettling dollike entity twice in a thing created in part by Jonny sims) Its role in the crew is… really nobody knows. Occasionally it’s called mascot. It’s just kinda there and whenever it’s kicked out it finds its way back. It’s very charming, and simply happy to be involved! last, and kinda least in the context of being a tma fan, is Tim Ledsam, who plays the exterminator Jordan Kennedy in tma and Gunpowder Tim, (he/him) master-at-arms, in the mechanisms. His mechanism is his eyes.

others, who I’m not going to go into detail about, are Nastya Rasputina (she/her) engineer, Ivy Alexandria (she/her, actor uses he/him) archivist, Drumbot Brian (he/him) pilot, Marius Von Raum (he/him, actor uses they/them) and Raphaella la cognizi (she/her)

two, the albums! This is gonna be pretty quick because it’s just an overview, but there are 4 main story albums that tell self contained stories, 2 that are a collection of songs that tell single stories, and 1 EP thing that tells its own little ballad. Then there’s a live recorded version of their final show ever, death to the mechanisms. They’re all very tragic, and *very* queer stories.

first, once upon a time (in space) a story based on fairy tales, tells the story of a war through the stars. second, Ulysses dies at dawn, a film noir style telling of a dystopian world based on Greek myths. third, high noon over Camelot, a cowboy western ballad about Arthurian legend on a space station. fourth, the bifrost incident, a rock ballad about Norse myth, lovecraft eldritch horror, and one person being really fucking horny for a train (Dw about it) the other albums are a mix of myth and story retellings (Frankenstein, the story of Prometheus, a rhythm based video game called crypt of the necrodancer) and character backstory songs for the Mechanisms.

random ass fun facts because I’m out of base info and I think the mechs is really funny for something supposed to be tragedy

-one of the crew, Nastya, is in a loving romantic and sexual relationship with the starship

-there are creatures called octokittens that are half octopus half kitten. I love them.

-Jonny is Texan. Yeah. (Well technically New Texan, because he was born on a planet called New Texas, but whatever)

-I’m not going into this because it’s more complex lore but the person who “created” most of the mechanisms was a vampire named Doctor Carmilla and was a (very disfunctuonal) mother figure to at least most of the crew. They kicked her out

-Doctor Baron Marius Von Raum, one of the other crewmates, is neither a doctor nor a baron. His real name is Byron. He psychoanalizes people for fun.

-they’re all horrible people, the Mechanisms. They kill and burn and destroy and manipulate unrepentantly and take pride in breaking every law they can find (though we have explicit canon confirmation that Jonny flat out refuses to commit any sexual crimes) It makes them fun, though

-there are *so* many photos of the bandmates in character and a good part of fandom activity is just passing around those photos within the fandom like they’re Pokémon cards

-last, and very much not least, it’s quite important to note that Jonny Sims didn’t “create” the mechanisms, not like he did tma. It’s a collaboration between a bunch of great storytellers and musicians that started out as a uni band

here is a photo of the mechanisms as a whole group, because why not

Anyway I’m going to see so many glaring issues with this as soon as I post it but I hope it makes at least some sense! Check out x-ca1iber’s post for it if something doesn’t make sense… yeah. That’s it.

[pilot-posting]

🔞Asynchrosis Pt.1

(MECHAFUCKER SHORT STORY LETS GO)

Incident Report with Mechanized Infantry Pilot, "Emerson" (MIP-80.A).

nsft!!

heyo! i'm emerson, i got kinda swept up in the mech posting thing which is a really small section of nsft tumblr but the concept fascinated me and i love it i love it i love it

so without further ado

Incident Report 14-C

Mechanized Infantry Pilot

Misconduct.

Mechanized Infantry Pilot 80.A was caught activating her mechanized infantry suit outside of regulatory hours. Her mech is a Class-X Haratora-Zed suit, a relatively easy to use maintenance suit with a large number of automated functions.

More beneath the cut.

Class-X suits however are rare on recent expeditions. Class-X suits power themselves through siphoning recyclable organic material from the pilot directly through the application of various "dopamine inducing stimuli" to cause involuntary release at regular intervals. This process is proven not only to be efficient at extending operations length for Class-X suits, but it also deepens the neural-link between a pilot and their mech which provides for significant improvements in reaction times, information processing, awareness, and overall cognitive function.

Emersons mech suit is named the "Nagarrond", when asked to explain the name she started stuttering about a video game, further questioning was halted. The Nagarrond is adorned with a number of non-regulation decorations such as stickers and drawings, ship command has instructed us to overlook them, as they improve her morale.

Emerson entered The Nagarrond during a sleeping cycle, and powered up it's main reactor, she is suspected to have spent roughly 20 minutes inside the carapace before a crew member who had been permitted to work overtime to repair his Class-I combat mech, spotted the activated mech, lying on it's back inside a Falcon Class equipment transport ship, the bay doors of which were mostly closed.

When approached she did not respond to verbal cues. She was poked by the pilot, causing her to twitch a little, and curl up slightly, the mech emulated her actions perfectly, suggesting significant mental suspension within the carapace. It should be impossible for a pilot to reach this state with only 20-30 minutes of immersion.

This incident report suspects malpractice and misuse of Galligos property, however it's primary purpose is to inform High Command that Pilot Emerson 80.A will be on medial leave in the lower deck until her neural link synapse response is within regular mediated levels.

Part 1 of many.

[itsumikorokotoyomonoko]

I wish Every Mech Pilot/Robot On Tumblr a very Fucking Play Xenoblade Chronicles X We Have Mechs Called Skells We Have Heavily Customizable Bodies We Have Mutiple Mechanic Characters We Have So Much For Us

[foxgirl95]

Back Into the Fray

A Bounty hunter Mandalorian, a young jedi, a talkative droid, and a former X-wing fighter pilot turned traveling mechanic. He’s willing to travel with them if it means someone out there has his back. They both have someone they would be devastated to lose. Can they all work together as a team and find the little green man's people? Or will they butt heads every step of the way? At least the baby and Droid can get along.

First couple chapters take place during season 1 of The Mandalorian, the rest will be in season 2.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (Anai)

Tags: Slow burn, Idiots in love, Found Family, Eventual Relationship, Fluff, Physical & Emotional hurt comfort, Creative liberties on Star Wars content both cannon and Expanded Universe, Light cannon divergence.

AO3 link

Chapter 1: The Mechanic

Chapter Description: The Mandalorian meets the fabled mechanic. Little does he know that this brief meeting will lead to.

Next Chapter >>

Dank Farrik…

That was the cursing thought of one beskar-clad Mandalorian as the ramp of the hull opened to the hanger three-five on the dust ball planet of Tatooine. The heat of the two suns encompassing his body and dissipating as the systems in his armor cooled him once more. A small luxury that not many of the planet’s inhabitants rarely experienced in their daily lives. Today for the Mandalorain however seemed to be another, in a string of many, misfortunes. Brought on by his own actions admittedly, not in any way regretting the rescue of the child who silently slept in the safety of his bunk. They had just escaped their latest dogfight and in the aftermath the Mandalorian’s nerves were through the proverbial roof.

As he stepped out of his ship, he heard the unmistakable sound of pit droids rushing toward him. He expertly pulled out his blaster, giving them a warning shot as the shrill voice of a woman called out “Hey! Hey! You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it!” A wild-haired woman with her eyebrows burnt off came around the corner with her hands on her hips.

“Just keep them away from my ship,” Mando replied sternly.

She skeptically leaned forward “Yeah? You think that’s a good idea, do ya?” Snapping back as she walked towards the Razor Crest exclaiming about every little bit that she saw wrong with his transport. Mando rolled his eyes under his helmet as she went on, Mechanics… As much as he appreciated their work, he also knew a lot of them tended to over exaggerate and scam pilots out of credits.

“This is mess! How did you even land?” She barked her question as continued her assessment of pointing out nonexistent and minor issues “That’s gonna set you back.”

“I’ve got 500 imperial credits.” He replied curtly holding the last of the credits he’d earned for the job on Sorgan out to her.

She raised a nonexistent eyebrow at him then snatched the credits from his hand “That’s all you got?” She turned to her pit droids “Well, what do you guys think?” The small mechs chattered in a language Mando had no interest in learning as the woman turned back towards him “That’ll at least cover the hangar.”

“I’ll get you your money.” He nearly growled in annoyance.

She scoffed “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

A sudden shift of movement caught the Mandalorian’s eye at the edge of his visor and in a swift motion pulled his blaster firing another warning shot at one of the stone pillars “Show yourself!” He ordered ignoring the continuous barking of exclamations from the woman beside him starring into the dark shade of the hangar.

“Woah, Woah, Woah! Calm down Mister Mandalorian, we're all friendlies here!” Slowly a figure stepped out into the light, arms up in a friendly surrender. Another woman stood before him, this one far younger than her counterpart, her skin glowing like amber stones under the intense light of the dual suns, her clothing tattered and grease-covered just like any other mechanic. The Mandalorian however kept averting his observation to her eyes, they were the greenest pair of eyes he had ever seen on anyone. They reminded him of his young charge. “Hey man.” Her voice called snapping him from his thoughts. She stood there awkwardly with a casual smile upon her freshly tinted lips “My arms are getting tired here. Mind putting that thing away?”

Mando huffed with mild amusement placing his blaster back into it’s holster. The older woman jabbed him in the arm with one of her boney fingers “Hey watch it bucket head, I don’t take kindly to those who threaten my friends.”

“Sorry.” He quietly apologized as he heard an amused laugh leave the younger of the two. How is it you find what was almost your death amusing? The strangeness of such an action bringing to mind another cackling woman he once worked alongside. This one at least didn’t seem nearly as bloodthirsty on the surface.

“It’s all good Mando.” The younger replied pulling a rag from her pocket as she wiped the grease from her calloused hands “I should’ve known better than to try to sneak around you while were doing business.”

The older woman poked her head out from behind the armored man’s frame calling to her companion “Hey Anai, this guy’s looking for work. Why don’t you take him down to the cantina to ask around?”

“I don’t need an escort.” He interrupted.

“Have you ever been to Mos Eisley?” She asked.

“No.”

“Then it can’t hurt to have someone show you around, the best part is it’s free.” She stepped around him and playfully shoved the younger woman, Anai, towards the door “Now go on get out of here I’ve got work to do.”

Anai laughed lightly once again “Alright.” She turned to the Mandalorian with a toothy grin, “C’mon, it’s not that far.”

The Mandalorian sighed, shaking his head, “Fine.” He then turned back to the other woman pointing a finger in her direction “Just remember…”

“Yeah yeah!” She shouted back “No droids. I heard you. Don’t gotta say it twice.” She turned to get to work muttering a string of curses at his demands as the other two headed to the door.

On the way out, Anai snatched an old leather jacket with off one of the machines pulling it onto her shoulders. Once outside the safety of the hangar she stretched her arms over her head releasing a groan “Man, it feels good to take a break…”

Mando trudged up beside her as his gaze cautiously scanned the streets “You don’t have to help me.” He stated, “I’m sure I can find it.”

“Oh! It’s no trouble!” Came Anai’s friendly reply her arms returning to her sides. “Besides, I've been moping around that hangar for days now. Peli’s getting sick of me.” She joked as she strolled down a path she seemed more than familiar with. “Don’t take anything she says to heart by the way, she can be a good friend once you get to know her.” Something in her voice told him she was likely being sincere.

“Noted.” He replied shortly as he trailed after her. The two made their way through town in somewhat comfortable silence; he was still wary of the woman. There was no one he could trust completely, for all he knew she could be another guild member looking for the kid. A fair assessment with what had brought him to this planet in the first place. The closer they came to the town center however the Mandalorian noticed a rather ominous display. There amongst the ruins of an old structure on several pikes were the discarded helmets of storm troopers. He paused a moment to take in the arrangement as a light breeze blew by causing the blood-colored scraps of fabric tied to each pole to sway. He then felt the presence of Anai beside him.

“Kinda eerie, right?” She spoke quietly as her fingers fiddled with a pendant hanging from her neck. “Even though I wanted these guys dead more than anything, the first time I saw this it spooked me.”

The Mandalorian turned his visor toward her, his gaze landing upon the small silver medallion in her grasp. The more he stared he realized that the emblem of the former rebellion forces was engraved upon it Dogtag… His inner voice informed, “You were a soldier?"

Anai met his gaze, still rubbing her fingers over the small piece of metal “Pilot.” She corrected. That surprised Mando, but it also explained her relaxed nature that he often noticed in those that had involved themselves in the galactic battles against the former empire. Pilots especially compared to most others.

“Any good?” He asked, receiving a raised eyebrow and a cocky grin.

“I mean I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

Mando huffed out a chuckle “Guess so.” This woman had survived the war, probably a hero to her people, yet like the shock trooper Cara Dune she was far from the New Republic she had helped put into place. Cara though had left because of the duties she was expected to perform after the war. So, he couldn’t help but to wonder what had driven the former pilot from their influence.

Anai hummed playfully, her eyes inspecting him as she gestured with her head to one side “Cantina’s this way.”

They reached their destination shortly afterward and now Mando was a little glad he had someone to show him the way. Out here most of the buildings looked the same and it was probably easy to accidentally walk into one while meaning to be in another. As they stepped down into the door Anai quickly turned around and put her hands out to stop him. He cocked his head to the side curiously looking for an explanation when the mechanic chuckled awkwardly “Uh…, just to warn you this place is run by droids during the day.” She stated, “So please don’t go shooting it up, I like it here and they’re just doing their jobs.”

Oh. Obviously, she had witnessed his reaction to the pit-droids earlier and realized how uncomfortable he was with the mechanical menaces “I’ll try not to.”

A relieved expression crossed the mechanic’s features as she spun around to enter the cantina. The old doors squeaked as the they slid open to reveal the spacious area inside. Being midday it was nearly vacant save for a few patrons who ate and talked amongst themselves. Anai walked across the open space heading for the bar and ordering a glass of Juma Juice from the rickety droid wiping down the counter. Mando came to stand beside her leaning against the flat surface “Hey, droid, I'm a hunter.” He informed the mech “I'm looking for some work.”

The old droid faced the man as it poured his escort’s drink “Unfortunately, the Bounty Guild no longer operates from Tatooine.” It answered in its graveled mechanical voice.

“I'm not looking for Guild work.” He sighed feeling that his patience was being put to the test today.

“I am afraid that does not improve your situation…” The droid finished the drink, setting it in front of the pink-haired woman as he spoke “At least by my calculation.”

“Think again, tin can!” A new abrupt voice called out catching the eyes of all the cantina’s patrons. The Mandalorian turned to find…. a kid, a boy barely out of his teens by the looks of him, sitting with his legs propped up upon the table in his booth. “If you're looking for work, have a seat, my friend.” He had the unabashed confidence of someone acting how they thought bounty hunters did “Name's Toro, Toro Calican.” The boy declared confidently offering a spot at his table “C’mon relax.” Mando shared a look with Anai, who just spared the boy a subtle glance before turning her full attention to her drink once more. He considered it a beat longer before reluctantly deciding to slide himself into the seat opposite the younger male. Mando internally wished his new task could’ve been anything other than whatever scheme this one had cooked up but considering his situation he didn’t think he had much of a choice. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. So, the armored man bestowed this Toro Calican a moment to pitch his request. The Mandalorian however allowed his gaze stray back to the woman at the bar. He knew she would be eavesdropping on their conversation, even if she was doing a fine job of concealing it. “Fennec Shand, an assassin.” Mando was abruptly pulled back to Toro finally glancing down at the puck between them as the boy continued “Heard she's been on the run ever since the New Republic put all her employers in lockdown.”

This one’s not making it… Mando **immediately thought, there were many who knew that name and the dangers that came with it. Even his escort noticeably stiffened from her station at the bar. “I know the name.” He answered coldly already knowing this was not the kind of job he needed right now.

His answer though didn’t seem to faze Toro “I followed this tracking fob here.” He reached into his jacket producing the device that beeped smoothly as it echoed against the booth’s alcove. “Now the positional data suggests she's headed out beyond the Dune Sea.” The younger man nonchalantly glanced back to Mando as he continued “Should be an easy job.”

If Mando wasn’t so annoyed already he would laugh, but only a sigh escaped him as he stood from the booth deciding that today was one to be picky. “Well, good luck with that.” He stated before turning back to the bar ready to try his chances with someone else.

“Wait, wait, wait, hey!” The boy sat up with a hint of panic in his voice “I thought you needed work?”

The Mandalorian’s visor snapped back to Toro “How long with the guild?” He asked, already perceiving the answer.

The kid’s posture shifted having the nerve to look offended “Long enough.”

“Clearly not.” Mando pointed out “Fennec Shand is an elite mercenary,” He continued explaining so this boy had at least some idea of what he was getting himself into. “She made her name killing for all the top crime syndicates, including the Hutts.” The armored man forced his voice to sound as calm as he could to indicate just how serious of a job this was “If you go after her, you won’t make it past sunrise.” Toro was quiet now; he seemed to understand his situation a little better. So Mando turned to leave, hoping someone else in this town had something better for him.

“This is my first job.” The boy quietly admitted as he now stood pleading with the Mandalorian as he turned to face him “You can keep the money, all of it. I just need this job to get into the guild.” Toro scoffed at the absurdity of it “I can’t do it alone.”

There was a pause as Mando took a moment to weigh his options. He knew the kind of credits a woman like Fennec Shand could fetch may just be worth the risk. The kid gets his ticket into the guild, and he got the credits he needs to pay off the mechanics. So, the Mandalorian took a leap of faith “Meet me at hangar three-five in half an hour.” A look of relief washed over Toro’s face as Mando added “Bring two speeder bikes…and give me the tracking fob.” The air suddenly tensed once more as the boy looked down at the fob in his hands and the gloved one the armored man offered. He seemed to consider the action before abruptly smashing it against the wall, shattering the device into pieces as sparks fell to the ground. Mando heard the unmistakable snort of laughter coming from behind as his escort passed him by. He had to give the kid credit there, at least he was smart enough not to trust him completely.

“Don’t worry.” The boy in front of him grinned as he tapped the top of his skull. “Got it all memorized.”

“Half an hour.” Mando simply reminded him as he stepped towards the door spying a familiar shade of pink already heading towards daylight.

The Mandalorian exited the cantina and as expected his guide was waiting for him with a smirk on her lips which he ignored as he pushed past her. The long strides of his legs towards a row of buildings kept him in the lead as he avoided Anai’s amused gaze. It didn’t stop her from breaking into a light jog as she followed after to match his footfalls. She kept pace alongside him in silence until she felt the compulsion to speak “So…” Mando steeled himself for whatever mirthful words were going to find their way to his ears. “I may not be a bounty hunter…” She started “But I don’t need to tell you to watch your back with that one, right?” Only an audible sigh left his helmet before quickening his pace once more as the roar of wheezing laughter followed after him. ~ ………………………… ~

Once back at the hangar The Mandalorian and Anai parted ways. While Mando immediately went back into his ship to gather supplies, he took no time to notice what corner the woman had scurried off to. In the hull went to grab his bag from the wall when he noticed something was off, doing a double take of the area ahead he ran to his now open bunk finding it empty. In a heart racing speed he frantically sprinted down the ramp “HEY!” He called out as an unfortunate pit droid trekked by and hid itself fearing the armored man’s anger. “Where is he?” Mando had a number of scenarios fly through his brain in a matter of seconds thinking of what had happened in his absence. Had he been right, were the two women aware of the bounty? Had he been sent along with the prettier younger one as a distraction? Or had someone decided to sell the poor child to the highest bidder? For all he knew his charge was currently being digested in the stomach acids of a Hutt!

“Quiet!” Came a shout cutting off his fearful thoughts. He recognized the now familiar voice of Peli the mechanic as she emerged from her office thankfully consoling the small green child in her arms “You woke it up.” She complained as she gently shushed the little one. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to get it to sleep?”

Mando, still riding off the waves of protectiveness, sternly commanded her “Give him to me.” His hand instinctively hovering near the blaster on his hip.

“Not so fast!” The older woman scoffed, holding the baby on her hip just out of his immediate reach “You can’t just leave a child all alone like that.” She looked down at the little bugger adjusting him to sit more comfortably against her. “You know, you have an awful lot to learn about raising a young one.” The older woman lectured him with minimal fear of retaliation. The child in her arms cooed softly as he glanced between both adults. Mando’s posture relaxed somewhat as his arms now lay comfortably at his sides. His little companion was safe, and as much as he loathed to admit it Peli had a point, Kriff… He really shouldn’t have left his charge alone.

“The hell’s going on out here?” Both adults heads turned to see Anai approaching them with two canteens slung precariously over her shoulder. “With all that shouting I thought someone was gonna start shooting.” As the young mechanic came up alongside Peli, the Mandalorian watched as her gaze landed upon the child in the older woman’s arms. “Well, hello there.” She smiled affectionately as she wiggled a calloused finger in the child’s direction and letting him catch it with his three clawed ones “Who's this cutie?” She asked but was met with silence, another aspect of his situation for Mando to feel shame over. All he knew about the child was that he could move things with his minds and that for some unknown reason the remnants of the Empire wanted him. Mando didn’t even know the child’s true name, nor had he bothered to try and give him one. ‘Kid’ seemed to be the only acceptable answer for now.

“Anyway…” Peli cleared her throat trying to dissipate the awkward silence and getting back to business. “I started the repair on the fuel leak.” She side-stepped in front of a nearby machine pressing a few of the glowing buttons with her free arm in an attempt to start it as Mando made a quick jaunt back up the ramp of his ship. “I had a couple of setbacks I want to talk to you about.” The older mechanic continued fiddling with the old machine in frustration as it refused to listen to her “You know, I didn’t use any droids as requested, so it took me a lot longer than expected.” The armored man more or less ignored her and given the way Anai crossed her arms cocked her hip out to the side told him that was the correct option. Having stowed the few items he couldn’t fit on his person into a small pack, he came down once more and stood a moment staring down at the mechanics and his ward.

“Thank you…” Both women paused where they stood, staring into the Mandalorian’s dark visor seemingly in shock hearing such a softly spoken word of gratitude come from a man that had almost come close to killing them both. He’d be lying if he said the ability to shut them up with a simple word didn’t greatly amuse him. They both glanced at one another for a moment before the meaning of his departure brought Peli back to her senses.

“Oh, so I guess I was right.” She handed the small bundle to the unsuspecting Anai as Mando moved towards the exit with her hot on his trail. The younger woman seemed to protest her new acquisition, holding the child in her hands and away from her person but her voice was overshadowed by the continued rambling that cascaded from Peli’s mouth.

The small party made their way one by one through the hangar's door into the open street where a triumphant Toro was now waiting for his new partner “Hey, Mando, what do you think?” He casually gestured to the two clearly worn speeder bikes he had brought with him “Not too shabby, huh?” The Mandalorian stepped forward from the others to inspect their transportation. In the peripheral of his dark visor he noticed the way both Peli and Anai stood away from the stranger huddled close to the door, the younger holding his ward in a protective manner propped upon her hip. He turned his attention back to Toro looking visibly skeptical of the functionality of the speeders “What do you expect” Toro simply shrugged “This isn’t Corelia.” Mando watched as he turned to the two mechanic and nodded a greeting to them “Ladies.” Which only earned him an unimpressed glance from them both and a seemingly jab of laughter from the child from their obvious rejection.

Anai rolled her eyes as she walked over to Mando holding out the canteens she had reappeared with earlier to him “Here.” She stared up into the darkness of his helmet almost meeting his eye. “So you don’t keel over from dehydration.” He stared down at her for a moment taken a back before taking the canteens by their straps.

“That going to cost me too?” He asked.

Her cheeks puffed out with air as she huffed “I may be an ass Mando but I’m not heartless enough to send you off into the dunes without water.” She smirked.

He nodded and with a low hum he nodded to show his gratitude before his gaze went to the child in her arms “Behave,” He told the little one sternly “I’ll be back.” With that he turned back to the speeder jumping into the seat and Toro followed suit. Both men revved up their speeders heading off into the endless sea of sand.

The child cooed sadly waving goodbye to his caretaker as he disappeared into the sands. Anai smiled “Awww…” She used her free hand to pat him lightly “It’s alright kiddo” She comforted him “We’ll have ourselves some fun until Mando gets back, okay?” The little one stared up at her with a toothy grin happily swinging his little feet in the air.

Author's Note: This is my first time posting a fic on tumblr and I'll be posting all the chapters I have up on AO3 one at a time but feel free to take a look at what I have up already!

Mudhorn divider: @dreamland-gallery

Header & Footer: @samspenandsword

[starcolonelkatrinamoon]

Worn Hopes and Armored Plated Dreams

The Scrapplemech had a stupid name, Katrina had decided. No quadmech, covered in salvage arms, fluid support systems, and lifting booms should be named “Scrapplemech”. She hated everything about the name. She hated that Tisha named it that. It was terrible that she got name it for it was her creation. What an awful machine.

And yet here it was, lifting her beloved’s decapitated Phoenix Hawk IIC onto a heavy recovery truck. The six Hammerheads of the trinary’s command star stood vigil over the salvage teams as they moved mechs onto recovery vehicles for towing back to the FOB. It didn’t matter if they were enemy or ally. Both would serve their purposes for what they would need in the coming days.

That did not stop the creeping feeling that crawled down her spine from watching eight of her own mechs get pulled back to the FOB.

______________________________________________________________

The Scrapplemech towered over the rest of the CSJ’s camp as it stood over the area in the middle they had cleared for refit and rearm. It looked like an ominous portent, all of its gantries and support structures extended out into the air, appearing like an industrial spider’s web intent on catching any pesky components. The Phoenix Hawk IIC had been laid out next to it, under one of the primary lift arms that could do major refit work.

Objectively speaking, the Phoenix Hawk IIC was not in bad condition. Katrina hated to think about it too hard, but this was fixable. And quickly as well. Quietly she muttered curses to herself as she hooked up lift gear to the damaged LB 10-X and prepared to lift it out of the torso module that it was seated in, stepping back a foot or so and throwing at thumbs up to Tisha so that she could engage the lift. The humming whine of the crane filled the air as its electric winch engaged, tugging the weapon up and out of its cradle.

The retractable blade that had damaged it had been removed prior, but the damage it left was clearly visible now that the cannon was out of the mech. The blade had mangled the breech and part of the feed mechanism. This gun would need significant rework if it was to be made operational again. For now it would get stuck in the rebuild pile.

Katrina sighed as she directed the boom, aiding Tisha in getting the 10 ton weapon where it needed to go. She had to think about what she was going to rebuild this with.

Maybe… maybe the Blakists needed a bit of a fright. She had some old refit plans floating around for the Phoenix Hawk IIC 7 for if they ever needed to do shock and awe ops. Perhaps those would suit. They had the RAC-2s available as well as the AP Gauss Rifles, and all of their spare parts had been flown down with the Scrapplemech.

Yeah. That idea would work. Maybe the Hammerheads too, if she could get the pilots on board. They likely would be. Disconnecting the lift harness from the landed LB 10-X, Katrina settled herself in for a hard day’s work.

@karriethemechtech

[imsorryithurts]

OC introductions!

Hey, friends. Tomorrow the whumperless whump even ran by @whump-kia starts, and I have written for some prompts that'll be sharing!

I have seen people making introduction posts for their OCs, and I love it, because I was already thinking about how I could give context before every story without getting too repetitive...

So I'll try to cite my universes that are featured in this month's events, and their characters. Until now, they pretty much only lived in my head, so apologies if it's a bit confusing or all over the place!

SPACE

While playing a space themed TTRPG, I quite liked the dynamics between our characters. Since I didn't want to make fanfiction of other people's characters, I tried making this generic "space adventure" setting, slightly inspired by the characters relationships and dynamics.

If you play RPG with me and recognize anything here... Uhhhhh I'm sorry.

Roye: The captain of the team. Strong and cheerful, he may come off as a bit of a himbo, but is a capable leader, and friend.

Rex: The "loveable asshole". Ship mechanic, she has been friends with Roye for a long time, they had their first flight together, before he became captain. A bit butch.

Leo: The youngest of the team, trying to prove he's an adult and can be relied upon. If I'm being honest, I'm still figuring out what position he has on the ship, but he'd probably be good with communications, commerce and overall administration of the ship.

Isabella: Rescued from an escape pod from a destroyed ship, she became part of the team as an engineer and water systems specialist. Is overly nice, sometimes to the point of discomfort, but is wise and will always help.

Matt: The medic, hired after too many incidents in the ship without a medic. Secretly never finished any formal training, feels insecure about it, even after studying intensively on his own. Calm and collected.

Vaughn: I'm going to be honest. He's just there. I came up with him as a programmer, but then never did anything with him other than mention him in a few stories. Maybe I'll lean into it, making him part of the team, but in a cryptid "doesn't leave his office" way.

MECH: part of the same universe, and overlaps in the future. Only two developed characters so far.

Rose: Mech pilot. Really good at her job, really compatible with a bunch of implants and enhancement drugs. Unfortunately, that takes a strain in her body and mind. After quitting, she struggles with the lack of constant information input, and has to learn how to be a person again.

Lucas: Medic, currently specializing in treating mech pilots. Is Rose's friend, they were in the same class, but he quit the pilot program early on. He's a bit "more than just her friend", but Rose, while reciprocating his feelings, seems more invested on her mech.

------

Superhero:

I have more characters that have been in my mind for years, but for this month I pretty much wrote about only one:

Vittoria: Sarcastic and confident hero, with the power to see through solid objects. Is married to Claire, who has no powers.

------

Medieval fantasy:

I have not yet written my entries for this universe, so I can't be certain they'll show up, but I have scenarios that have been in my head for probably years at this point!

Very loosely based on DnD, because I forget the rules five minutes after reading them. More of a generic epic fantasy, with DnD elements, really. There are assorter characters that I haven't spent much time developing that I don't think I'll mention here.

-x-

Amiel: Forest elf, druid, who escaped a rich and confortable life to live in the woods. She learned magic when a human druid found her injured and took care of her, deciding to teach her along the way. Very quiet and reserved, can be impulsive.

Huran: Half orc warrior, Amiel's partner for quite a while. Strong, sweet and ambicious. This man has been in my mind for literal years and only today I realized I never named him. So he's Ukad now until further notice. Thanks fantasynamegenerators.com.

-x-

Mills: Milene Mill, a human alchemist who lost her home at a young age. An adventuring tiefling took her in, and she's been travelling with him ever since. As a teen, she had a bad accident that basically destroyed the left side of her body, and recovery was a long road. She's cheery, curious, studious and ambitious.

Salus: Rogue tiefling, found Mills when she was a child among the ruins of her town. He initially only wanted to escort her to a safe place, ended up being the reluctant father figure, later the very much willing father figure. (His name is also subject to change. I spent a while going back and forth on names for him).

[paragonrobits]

a few days ago i got to thinking about a RPG i was interested in, around early 2010s at the earliest (and around that time I think was the tail end of the days when me, my mom and my little brother lived out of a car, so my memory of specific dates is extremely fuzzy), called Big Eyes Small Mouth. It was a fairly lightweight system designed around emulating the feel of different anime series, with a multiverse setting built to accomodate it, fantasy settings along with cyberpunk or futuristic, all with the intent of making it as flexible as possible to incorporate whatever was included, both in the sense of flexible character concepts (so you could play as pretty much whatever you wanted, as well as broad archetypes of various anime series) and the actual concepts of the setting itself from psychic mech pilots to monster trainers (albeit less tongue-in-cheek than other character ideas, since that one was often worded in significantly meaner spirited terms) were all presented as openly as possible

for various reasons I don't think that game system is actually quite as useful for the reason I usually look at RPGs, which is to create characters within the mechanics of that system. It was built with a tri-stat system which my characters generally tend to not work too well with, given their general power levels. however, the IDEAS inspired by the setting are what's on my mind. Among other things, there's a concept where people are born as 'keys', or with an inherent power to open rifts between different worlds. In-series, its assumed that most of them tend to be ordinary students (leaning towards the anime inspiration, though amusingly enough I think this predates the majority of most isekai series, which might use this as a starting point).

So I kept thinking; what if I used this as a baseline for character concepts, one way or another? And the idea currently percolating for me is a group of people who are, for one reason or another, somewhat vulnerable and wind up with this portal-type power (or that one of them has portal portals at least, perhaps a mix of the game Portal and the X-Man Blink) and pop into the greater multiverse, winding up protected by a group of my main OCs, whom i've taken to referring to as the OC Squad (though in my ideas, I've considered the idea of calling them something like the Iconoclasts, shortened to Icons as they wind up gathering followers).

The basic gist there is of using this group of weaker characters as an audience surrogate, using them to introduce the more wacky or far-out elements of my setting that they otherwise wouldn't know, with their relationship with the OC Squad evolving. (Into WHAT, I'm not sure!) But the question is what exactly IS this group of characters? I was thinking of making them something relatively low-scale, with the specific idea being 'the cast of a coffee shop AU abruptly wind up dropped into a post-apocalyptic science fantasy setting and have to deal with the sudden danger'.

But this has its complications. A setting similar to real world earth doesn't make sense for my setting, while something similar enough to modern earth has its own issues, and would require figuring out at least one world among many that maps to the real world Earth and a suitable society. It IS possible, though i figure very rare, for one world to have survived the cataclysms particular to the setting and retain a technology level similar to the modern world.

It would be way more likely, I think, for them to functionally come from a cyberspace world existing as data, running a simulation of such a world or the life stories of people who were there and died a long time ago; in other words, they realize they're the end game of SOMA, or its the same issue facing Tidus from final fantasy X. This way has two built in plot hooks; the first would be them coming to terms that there's no going home and that home never technically existed; alternatively, their entire life is an illusion, with their dramas and loves and fears all being them playing out the stories of people who died a long time ago, and now they can choose not to be, but must deal with the existential horror that implies. Are THEY real? What DEFINES real?

And that leads into the other question; what are they, in the sense of species (however that applies here, as the possibility of taking on new bodies is fairly reasonable in my setting)? They MIGHT be human, but its also just as reasonable for them to be anthro-style beastfolk, super sleek sci-fi robots, or something else entirely. I might consider working out a basic five to fulfill a group dynamic with the twist being that they quickly take on dramatically different characteristics in short order (for example the emotional heart of the team winds up becoming the leader of the friend group as the original leader reacts badly to circumstances and winds up becoming the hot headed brute force problem solver instead).