#mecha pilot Jazz au

[somerandomcockroach]

[keferon]

Imagine the angst of Jazz explaining that he’s a statistical outlier when it comes to pilots.

Explaining to Prowl how most pilots don’t make it past their first fight. How many people don’t even make it out of training. How many that survive but eventually just, completely lose their minds.

“You see that number on my mechs chest?That’s how many people it took before coming to me.”

Oh my god. Prowl is terrified because what do you mean humans live less than a hundred years??

But then. Normal humans sometimes live to 90.

Mecha pilots aren't normal.

Their brains are fucked up from connecting them to machines. Their health is shit for the same reason. They might look nice and healthy while they're somewhat young but piloting mecha breaks you on so many levels.

And then the risks of fighting of course.

The fact that Jazz is statistical outlier doesn't change the fact that he won't live long even if he's lucky and professional enough to survive the battlefield.

Prowl would become SO paranoid. Prowl would become SO PROTECTIVE after learning this piece of lore.

[sam-out-of-energy]

OKAY OKAY IM NO WRITER BUT

This AU has consumed me, ok ok slay

Again @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au

I thought about prowl and jazz on earth and Prowl being captured by humans and yeah yeah okay okay SO IMAGINE

Jazz wasnt fast enough to realize what the others had done with prowl

Prowl frees himself, prowl escapes by himself because Jazz comes in just. Too. Late.

Thats what i wrote lmao-

__

Prowls optic flickered in a dim light. Well, the one he had left anyway. A gaping hole now where his left optic had been before, circuits and wires exposed and tangled in a human scientists pathetic attempt at gouging out Prowls eye.

TacNet had been screaming error in his audials for the past few kliks, a blur of scenarios in his processor and a whirr of his engine told him he wasnt dead. Not yet.

"-because with this technology, we will be able to not only improve our mechas, but to create our own army." A frustrating, squeaky voice came to Prowl once he regained his sense.

Technology. That was all he was to them, to Jazz. A machine.

The organic was boasting about their achievements, about how with this technology they would create the perfect self-thinking robot. Ha.

A loud crunch rang out in the hall. Then another. Prowl lifted himself to sit where he had once been pinned down by metal, now torn off and dropping to the floor with a loud clatter.

"What in the-"

The general, or any of his subordinates had barely any time to react as Prowl whipped around, slamming his arm into the scaffolding they stood upon and bringing it down in a moments notice.

"I am not-"

He tore himself out of the restraints, standing. His arm plate would shift and move to make way for a blaster. Prowl aimed it up at the suprised organics.

"-your technology."

_______

Jazz had been running around frantically. Where's prowl, where's prowl, he'd asked everyone. They'd all told him no clue.

No clue his aft! It wasn't exactly like Prowl looked alike to any of the other mechas!

Did he run away? Why would Prowl do that??

Jazz had stopped in the hangar when it happened. A loud boom echoed out in the entire base. And another, and another. The floor trembled, concrete cracked the walls above.

He saw his comrades rushing for weapons.

No, no. It was exactly what he had feared.

Jazz was too late.

He'd arrive to a mess of metal, steel bars and concrete. Injured soldiers and bodies littering the floor where he stood, at the entrance of the hall.

"Prowl! Stop!" He'd yell.

Prowl would turn, looking over his shoulder and down at Jazz.

Well, down in the literal sense too, but down in a way Jazz had never seen him look before.

His optics- optic- was glazed over with a look that frightened Jazz to his core. Parts unreadable, like Prowl always was, but his lip curled down into a frown. Betrayal. His stare screamed betrayal and...

Anger.

Fury like Jazz had never experienced before. Not from Prowl. Never from Prowl. He'd been mad at the other before, sure, but it was always more like frustration, not pure hatred.

Now, Prowl looked at him like he looked at Jazz's comrades. Full of hatred for what they'd done, for what Jazz had done.

Jazz felt his own brain slow for a few minutes, but when he came back to Prowl had gone and he and any other surviving pilots were rushing for the mechas to give chase.

______

Jazz caught up to Prowl, late behind his brothers-in-mechas, staggering. This was all so sudden, he found his connection to the mecha a struggle at best.

"Halt! Put your weapons down and surrender!"

A mecha called out. Four- maybe five of them were stood on a highway in the desert, surrounding Prowl.

He can't put it down you dunce, it's attached to his arm, Jazz found himself thinking.

He saw Prowl's heavy venting, the drip of bright pink liquid from a surgery not-well-done, coming down from the underside of his face plate where it had been torn open.

It hurt him bad. If Jazz wasn't already struggling to keep it together, seeing the other looking like this didn't help him in staying connected.

Prowl's battlemask closed over the rest of his visible face with a sshink! and clearly, he was not coming easy.

Jazz watched, all he could do, as the other mechas charged in, trading blow for blow with Prowl, trying to grab or hit what they could to restrain him or to injure him beyond battle-condition.

Prowl grabbed one mecha, throwing them over his shoulder pad before another was already at his side. He turned and shot at them with his blaster, a blast through the underside of the right chest plate.

His optic frantically searched for the next target.

TacNet was still faulty, confusing and unintelligible gibberish ran circles in his processor as he tried to focus on keeping himself from being overtaken.

Unfortunately, Prowl now had a blind spot. A mecha came and swung around his left side when he was turned, grabbing onto his wing and with a loud wrUNCH-noise bent and tore half of it almost completely off.

Jazz's gut turned. The sound of everything else faded out when he heard Prowl scream in what Jazz could only imagine was fraggin' agony, ringing in his ear long and hard.

Jazz felt frozen. He watched the other curl in on himself and the opposing mechs surround him.

But that wasnt the end. A quick, muffled out communication between the boss and the other pilots, one Jazz wasn't paying enough attention to until he saw his fellow mechas begin to tear prowl apart.

Prowl had already been forced down into supine before the others began taking and pulling. First his blaster came ripping off his arm, his armour plates cracking as pieces snapped off in mechanic hands. His screams quickly became struggling, violent and heavy croaks of pain.

Something blasted through one of the mechas.

Then another.

"Gwen! What the fuc-"

The mechas turned as Jazz charged them, swinging his fist into the underside of ones chest, tearing out wires when he pulled back, to make sure he damaged something. He swung back at the next one and fired on the third.

"Dont touch him!"

Jazz yelled to the mechas lying on the ground, before flipping around and promptly rushing to Prowls side.

Jazz bent down and looked at Prowl, calling out his name as he did.

Prowl's optic was barely lit. His face engraved by his pain, straining to keep his systems running while barely avoiding an overload on his spark.

Jazz's mecha's chest opened and he crawled out, climbing down and landing on Prowl's chest.

"Prowl, prowler"

He called, leaning down and watching the other, eyes wide in desperation.

"Prowl! Y'gotta- y'gotta open up"

He was yelling, even if he didn't realize, slamming his palm against the others chest plates.

"Please! Please, Prowler, I'm gonna get you outta here-"

He watched the others unmoving face. Prowl's optic wouldn't even glance his way.

Jazz bit his lip so hard it bled before he dug his fingers into the crevices of the others chest, starting to pull, kick and struggle to open one of the latches.

He heard Prowl's venting get more rapid when the other finally looked his way, only to grimace from the ache Jazz was causing.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry Prowl! I ain't gonna leave ya-"

Jazz kept pulling, starting to dig into his pocket to see if he could use a torch and melt the locks open.

He heard a click and a fshhh as the latch he had been tugging on began to crack open.

Jazz didn't have time to thank Prowl for his co-operation, cramming his way inside the others cockpit. He heard Prowl's ventilation whirring fast and uncontrollably, noting also the spark and crackle of broken mechanisms in the cockpit.

He magnetized himself to the floor, dropping down to sit in the pilot seat, turning the controls on manually since everything else was basically fragged.

Prowl lurched up a little bit, letting out a loud yelp as he did.

"Sorry! Work with me here-"

Jazz pulled, fighting Prowl's failing systems together with him.

Prowl staggered, but slowly managed to get up on his feet, Jazz's control pushing him to move through the pain.

"I know where to go, follow me."

Jazz barely spoke out loud, focusing intensely on keeping Prowl moving so they could escape the other mechas before reinforcements would arrive.

________

Thats all teehee

[keferon]

OUGH THIS IS SO FREAKING COOL HElpp

AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHH

Doodles of @keferon 's Mecha Pilot Jazz AU as my offering for mercy from the hand of god with the expected angst to come...

[enigmatist17]

This AU by @keferon has been burrowing in my brain

---

In hindsight, Jazz realized he was stupid.

Unabashedly, completely stupid.

No one back home would have called a mecha pilot stupid, not with all the pain and training it took to even have a chance to look at a suit, but he was! He shouldn't have stayed out too long on the mission that had changed his fate, shouldn't have waved at that stupid satellite, but he did, and was taken far from home and brought to a place that was slowly becoming his second.

Cybertron.

Jazz was stupid when he decided to keep the fact that he wasn't truly one of them to himself, realizing eventually he was as alien as they were. He was stupid when he began to work with the Cybertronians rather than find a way back home, fighting the things that had brought him out deep into space in an effort to stave off homesickness. Oh, Jazz was so fucking stupid when he began to make friends with these Cybertronians, laughing at jokes he didn't quite understand and listening to their woes as he settled into their strange but oddly Earthen-like way of life.

What made him the most idiotic lifeform this side of the galaxy, however, was falling for one bot in particular.

Prowl had been the very first alien he'd met, speaking to him in that beautiful Cybertronian melody (language but whatever) that cut right through the pain he'd been in. Call it an inevitability, call it destiny, Prowl was the first one he'd met, and Jazz made damn sure he'd make a friend out of him. Sure, it was hard at first as Jazz had to not only decode an entire alien language but learn how to mimic it through his mecha, but once he got the ball rolling, it was a breeze. Prowl had been uncomfortable with him at first, which, all things aside, he didn't quite blame the mech for being suspicious of a strange mech, but over time he'd won him over. Of course, his stupidity would eventually catch up mere days after he had finally worked up the courage to actually tell Prowl how he felt, because the universe knew how stupid he was.

It came in the form of a Quintesson blade catching him in the wrong area, slicing right through his mecha's chest armor and right into his piloting seat. It took a second to register that something was wrong, the connection with his suit fizzling out when Jazz felt the pain from his actual body slamming into him like a truck. He knew pulling the blade out was stupid, but Jazz needed it out right now ohfuckithurtsstopthepain -

He's not sure how long he was out, but he knew the jig was up the moment he started coming to.

Muted voices sounded out from around him, some laced with anger, others with curiosity, and only one with concern. Jazz knew it was Prowl's, and judging from the finger (it's a digit come on now idiot) that gently poked his side, he was most likely unsure of what to think at the moment. With a sigh, Jazz slowly cracked open his eyes, finally taking in the mech he'd come to love with his own eyes for the first time.

"Hiya Prowler." His voice is scratchy with dehydration, the tactician and everyone else in the room going silent at his voice. "What's shakin'?"

"Jazz?" The wings (doorwings man come on) he spent hours watching twitched in discomfort, helm tilted as Jazz tried to sit up, only to hiss and slump back with a groan. "It is not wise to move right now, your...you are heavily damaged."

"Gettin' stabbed does that to ya." The attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, but no one is really sure how to react, so they don't call him out on it. He can see Ironhide and Optimus staring at him from behind Prowl, the Prime looking mystified, while Ironhide seemed to be going back and forth from awe to suspicion to uncertainty.

"Pulling the blade out instead of waiting for help was extremely poor judgment," Ratchet grumbled from the other side of Jazz, the medic giving him a grumpy look. "However, if you hadn't, I would not have found...you."

"Where's my mecha?" Jazz slowly moved to pull the scrap of cloth he'd been covered in back, honestly surprised with how neatly his midsection had been bandaged, or whatever the strange gel substitute was. "Oh...huh."

"Your frame's in a private med bay, I've been able ta repair some of it so far." Wheeljack moved into view with a cheerful wave, having picked up the motion from Jazz. "I've got ta tell ya, I'm impressed with all the work that's gone into it!"

"Thanks." Jazz gently poked at the gel after smiling at the scientist, eyeing the wound underneath with a sick sort of fascination. "I was expectin' this to be worse."

"Some of our organic allies were able to help to an extent, but your biology was only so similar." Ratchet shook his head, clearly displeased. "You're not going anywhere anytime soon, so I would get comfortable. In fact, I want everyone out so Jazz can get some rest, everyone but Prowl." Despite all the questions most of the high command had, Ratchet's word was law, so the medbay emptied until it was just Jazz and Prowl.

"Do you require anything?" Prowl's voice was the same as it always was, but Jazz had come to know him enough that he was tense and sorely out of his element.

"I could use some water, but I can go without." Those wings raise a fraction of an inch (or he's guessing, it's hard to tell without his enhanced sight sigh), and he winces. "Y-You're fine Prowler, I'm fine."

"You are not fine." Prowl grabbed a nearby stool and dragged it over, sitting at the head of the bed that seemed too large for the tiny organic. "I do not understand how you can say that."

"Pain is an old friend, I just...normally have access ta the proper help, ya know?" Jazz adjusted himself to have a better view of his mech, heart skipping a beat when Prowl reached over to gently help, the metal cool against his back. "Thanks."

"Jazz? May I ask you something?" His servo remained where it was, moving to brush against the side of Jazz's face with the greatest care he could manage. "Why did you not tell us?"

"Well...I'm stupid." Jazz leaned into the touch with a soft hum, Prowl's head tilting at the noise. "I figured you were all piloted mecha like myself, just with more money poured inta ya, but by the time I figured out you weren't...it was too late?" Prowl didn't need to know the reason he'd vanished for two days was to deal with the mental breakdown he had at the news, not his proudest moment.

"Why have you not sought to return home?" Prowl watched as several microexpressions crossed the org- Jazz's face, brown optics flickering between his face and the berth as he struggled with the answer.

"Honestly? Besides fightin' these bastards who attack my home on their turf? You."

Oh

Wings taut with tension relaxed as the information was processed, a soft click escaping his vocalizer as Prowl looked down at the person who had turned his life around.

"What I said to you a few days ago? It's true, every damn word of it." Jazz leaned his head to press his dermas to Prowl's digit, and idly, he wondered what it must taste like to an organic. "I fell for ya, heart an' soul."

"...what is a heart?" The laugh that burst from Jazz's dermas nearly made Prowl jump, the sound familiar as it was strange without the vocalizer in Jazz's frame. He's not sure why the question is so amusing, but then again, Jazz had always had a peculiar sense of humor, so all he could do was give a rare smile to his organic as the tension in the room slowly faded away.

"Ah Prowler, always known how ta make me feel better." The ache from the laugh aside, Jazz smiled at seeing Prowl's doorwings completely relaxed, the good deed of the day accomplished.

"I do try." The Praxian leaned forward to gently press helm against Jazz's, giving a soft purr as he cycled his optics off. "I am relieved you are safe, when I saw your energon staining Ratchet's servos..."

"I'm a stubborn guy, one blade isn't takin' me out." Jazz reached over with his better arm to touch Prowl's cheek, the metal warm against his hand. "Got too much ta live for."

"Indeed."

Ratchet returned a breem later to find the organic deep in recharge, Prowl cradling Jazz in his servos. Some unfamiliar thick fabric was resting between Jazz and the limb, cushioning the injured man far better than the fabric someone had found in a storage crate, judging by the lack of stuttered venting they had heard earlier. Prowl said nothing to the medic as he continued to murmur to Jazz as he read through a data pad, looking down occasionally to watch the subtle rise and fall of Jazz's chassis. Prowl still surprised the older bot with his dedication to work despite holding his injured partner, only shaking his helm as he dropped off some energon before disappearing into his office for his own work. There was going to be a lot of chaos when Jazz would have the chance to talk to everyone else, the news already spreading like a virus throughout the army, but that was a problem for another cycle.

For now, Jazz was resting with the mech he'd fallen for, and as far as Prowl was concerned, nothing would interrupt his partner's rest.

[acritti]

heres some mecha jazz cause im in love with @keferon ’s idea

litterally anything jazz prowl is perfection

also can we please appreciate my prowl drawing cause idk why or how i drew him like that but im actually so proud of myself

[notsodailycake]

Thumbnail sneak peek for a possible doodle I'll use in part 3 of my drabble for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au

Let's hope i dont kill myself attempting to polish this somewhat /j

I never drew mecha before, so it's basically just me jumping into the lions den with no weapon, wish me luck

[keferon]

GLITCH. GliTCH COME HERE LET ME HUG YOU AND AND SPIN YOU.

You know. In my head. This is how Prowl ends up being piloted by Jazz.

One reason is Jazz being much better at fighting than him of course.

But the other? Imagine Jazz's mech getting destroyed. Imagine Jazz realizing that, oh fuck, we can't realistically survive without it. His suit wasn't made to resist the conditions outside. It doesn't have enough air, it isn't strong enough to resist the toxic atmosphere, etc.

And this is when Prowl realizes that. He can replace the mech. Not just can, he has to replace Jazz's mech if he wants Jazz to stay alive.

*slams wip down on table*

*refuses to elaborate*

*leaves*

Yall, this au,, this one right here, 🤖 •o•⁉️,, no words needed, just 😭🤲✨ [perfection <33]

[Mecha pilot jazz au, by Keferon]

[yuukirita]

A drawing. of Mech Pilot Jazz Au based on @keferon 's design. I drew this instead of preparing for my DND game that starts in like 8mins.

I will draw more of this au and I will (if the gods let me) write for it too

[somerandomcockroach]

...wanted... to add so much more.... but I'm dead.... maybe will add one day more since I wanted more battle side by side scenes... I love them your honor in every universe.... Song remix <- link *making cackling voice* Mecha pilot Jazz au by Keferon

[keferon]

What if Prowl sees Jazz’s hair for the first time and is absolutely fascinated by it, just playing with it and stuff and Jazz just becomes limp and Prowl is like ‘are you okay??’ And Jazz is just like ‘mhm, feels nice’ bonding activities <3

Ooouwwwww>:3

Imagine like. 99% of the time when Jazz is around Prowl he either pilots his mech or wears his suit. So the only part of him that Prowl can really see is his face.

But then at some point they get to a place with normal earth-like breathable air + normal temperature and infrastructure and stuff. And Jazz is so damn happy because he can finally take off his suit and just enjoy the sun (or suns) and the wind and everything. Also him and his suit are both in desperate need of washing lol

Anyway. The suit is cleaned and while it dries up Jazz kind of just walks around in a tank top and pants and this is when Prowl finds him.

And he is so fascinated

I imagine him rubbing Jazz's head with just one or two fingers because he is too big and is afraid of accidentally causing pain. The gesture is so gentle and cute and Jazz is like aaauuuww that's nice~~ while Prowl looks like hes doing open heart surgery ahahah he is so concentrated.

[keferon]

ART. SO MUCH. AMAZING ART. HOLY HELL

Art jumpscare!!!

Yeahhh I draw too, just recently got an ipad and is still getting used to it tho so I doodled a bunch of mech Jazz au by @keferon :D

[sam-out-of-energy]

Okay I absolutely understand the "jazz loses his helm in battle" and how funny that would be, but *consider*

Jazz fails to realize that normal mechs dont just take their head off all willy-nilly

This is for @keferon 's pilot jazz au that has completely taken over my brain lmao

[epsilonetalia]

Little doodle based on @keferon 's AU for Mecha Pilot Jazz :D

I absolutely ADORE this AU and hopefully when I get more free time I can do more stuff for it <3 Was having too good of a time trying to figure out if Prowl would be horrified to learn Jazz was a pilot, or if he somehow had it figured out beforehand. This was the end result of said imagination

[acidsplashes]

doodles inspired by

@keferon 's Post and mecha pilot jazz/ratatouille au :]

[keferon]

OUH THIS ONE IS ABOUT PROWL DISCOVERING THE TRUTH ABOUT JAZZ AND IT'S SO GOOD YOU NEED TO READ IT

This is definitely not what I had plans to write and finish in 2 days, but @keferon’s mecha pilot jazz au infected my brain and I had to shake this thing loose.