#mecha pilot au

[evilbugwizard]

Tf mecha au brainworms got to me hah

Blurr doodles 👍

[wiltyard]

mecha pilot au!reader x tranformers

PROMPT

masterlist 12/13/2024 inspired by: @/revelboo's idea of transporting humans wherever cybertronians are!!! @/keferon's mecha pilot au of mecha pilot!jazz x prowl!!

Can't help but think about an AU where a mecha pilot!Reader just suddenly gets transported to the Transformers Universe in the middle of a war?

They can't just stand still and ask the next guy they see about whats happening because they might get blown to bits. They have to make do with what their eyes can tell them, how to keep themselves safe and alive, and most importantly, who they can help.

By the time the battle’s over, they get taken aside, brought to Optimus. And he's thanking them, asking them their name, not yet aware that they are not Cybertronian at all.

The entire time, reader is just nodding along. Pretending to understand what he's saying but never actually,,,, replying, only gesturing.

Optimus just takes it that they're the silent type. 

They eventually find out the reader can only speak English and doesn't know Cybertronian.

They finally spoke. Introducing themselves, what squad they're from, their ID number, what organization they work for (they check, none of the mentioned organization or squad exists, and yet they do) telling them their name.

The Autobots register that the reader had not spoken Cybertronian, but an Earth language. One of which they thankfully have in their database.

The reader goes silent, before going; “Your stars are not my stars.” (does anyone get the reference, plsplsplss)

Reader’s mecha has a force shield that is constantly on, preventing anything from getting inside a specific perimeter around their mecha that spreads out 5-10 kilometers, specifically preventing projectiles, to other mechs, other humans, everything, from getting near them, you get the gist.

The first time someone tried to get close they hit the shield face-first, causing the reader to apologize and explain their EM field.

“I’ll have to register you manually into the system so you can get through the shield.”

From registering one person, to five, to seven, they eventually disable the shield altogether once they finally trust the Autobots.

Reader finds out that one of the bots was tinkering with something that brought them here to begin with.

Turns out it's been bringing other humans on the base too and never told them about it. To be fair, they didn't know it’d bring someone from a completely different universe here too.

And no one even thought of telling them, the reader left people behind in their universe, their duties, people might think they’re a deserter, that they abandoned them. All of those people who believed in them...the reader is enraged.

The first bot they let through the shield at the beginning is the one who first tried to talk to the reader and calm them down.

Reader doesn't reply back, the mecha they pilot silent, no sign of life, but they know the reader is in there.

Bot approaches them, sounding frustrated, whatever they were going to say gets cut off with an oof!, hitting the force field around the reader’s mech.

They watch as the hexagon shapes rippled then fade.

Reader had enabled the shield again. But this time, no one can get through them.

[silence-ofthe-llamas]

TexAid returns and comes with the gore! Whooo!

They were all fucking insane.

First Aid staggered down the hallway armed with nothing but the flare gun they kept in their cockpits for emergencies. He didn’t know how much damage this would even do – it would probably hurt him more when he fired it than it ever would against a quintesson, but he had to hold some form of hope. If he didn’t have hope, he had nothing.

Vortex was offline. His last words to him still echoed in his head, bumping around between his ears and ringing in his ears.

GET LOST. I HOPE YOU DIE.

Stupid idiot. Stupid, stupid. First Aid wiped his face. He didn’t know if he was wiping away sweat, or if they were tears. He could feel that he was dying. He didn’t need to make any stupid grand gestures to try and hide it, to get him to unplug before he felt his core splutter out. He knew that if he’d stayed connected, there was every chance that he’d die too. He knew it, he wasn’t- he wasn’t a fool. He knew where to get help and he wasn’t about to go ahead and die before he’d even tried.

Damn it. God damn it. He was so, so terribly fucked.

The usual tell for a quintesson being in the vicinity was the smell of one. It hit the back of the throat and burned like alkali, clawing through the soft tissues of the nose. It tingled in the lungs, popping and pinging against neurons in the brain, activating the fight or flight instinct more powerfully than anything had before. And he was bathing in it right now. Each direction felt exactly the same, he didn’t know if they were just behind closed doors, or were stood waiting for him around a corner, and he didn’t know what scared him more – the fact he was so vulnerable, or the fact that Vortex wouldn’t even know.

They were all fucking insane. Each and every one of them in their command structure. Nobody seemed willing to acknowledge what was happening right now – in what fucking world was it fine to leave a medic and a pop idol in a fucking enemy space ship? To tell them that they were on their own, that they’d figure it out? That their mechs would be more than enough? Because they weren’t. He’d last seen Blast Off and Cosmos getting launched off the starboard port by a cannon and Vortex was in a crumpled heap in the storage room he’d managed to stagger him into, totally inoperable. He was on his own, nobody was coming to help, and he was furious. He had no idea what he was meant to fucking do, and no doubt if he miraculously made it back, they’d grill him and berate him for not doing enough. For not doing more than survive. For not having any ideas or plans magically pop into his brain whilst he tried not to think about the state of Vortex and the impending sense of doom that fell upon him, crushing him under its weight. He was going to die out here, and all he could think about was how pissed he was about it.

He didn’t know the first thing about mechanics or engineering or how he was built, but fuck if that didn’t stop him from trying. The two repair droids who Vortex had reprogrammed and kept stashed in his shoulder were hard at work when he’d managed to drag back his first offering. He didn’t know what it was, but it looked mechanical and it looked useful, and he vaguely recognised some of the bits inside it, so that had to count for something, right?

The droids seemed to think so. They were scavenging from it before he’d even put it down.

His third trip had him panting and shaking and almost vomiting from exhaustion. He dry heaved in the corner, coughing and cramping as his body tried to empty itself of a toxin that wasn’t there. Is the air poisoning me? He wiped his mouth and swallowed, legs shaking as he steeled himself for what was to come next. He’d need to go and help with the repairs. The droids weren’t fast enough, they were squabbling – if he could just get the important parts in place, he’d stop that leak and protect his core. If the core was protected, he stood a better chance of getting him back to Earth in a state they could properly repair him in.

Toolkit in hand, he stood by the gaping hole in his abdomen. The core whirred, visible tendrils of light and energy reaching out towards him. His eyes flew over the wreckage, assessing what could be salvaged. The droids helpfully began putting the disassembled parts at his feet, ready for the human to deal with it. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he swallowed nervously.

He couldn’t get this wrong. He’d never forgive himself if he did, and he didn’t want to die like this. Vortex had promised him his death – he couldn’t deny him that.

It took over an hour until he could get the big, red visor to flick online, Vortex’s systems groaning and slowly whirring as he booted back up again. The crackle was audible, electricity arcing over his frame.

“You’re awake!” First Aid exclaimed in delight, slumping down to his knees in exhaustion. “Oh, Tex, I am so glad-”

His hand slammed down just behind him, and First Aid froze as the sudden blazing heat registered, the head-splitting sound of a quintesson gun being fired resonating inside of the cavity of Vortex’s abdomen.

“I thought I told you to go fuck yourself.” Vortex’s voice sounded in his helmet, and First Aid could have sobbed.

“You actually told me to die.” He corrected. “I guess you didn’t want me dead that badly.”

“I didn’t want them to shoot my core, actually. Now, what’s your plan with the squishy?”

“Uhm.” First Aid looked down at the flare gun on his hip. “I guess shoot them?”

Vortex’s laugh sounded pained, and his helm thunked back down against the floor.

“Oh, we are so dead.”

He heard something bigger and heavier behind him, and a familiar choom. Gasping, he threw his head around, peering around Vortex’s arm-

“Blast Off!” He leaned against Vortex’s too-hot arm, not caring how it burned him through his gloves and the tingle of it against his cheeks. “Vortex! They survived!”

“Yippie.” He sarcastically replied.

First Aid’s eyes fell to the alien corpse. Fresh. Ready for harvesting. An idea slowly formulated in his mind as he looked between Vortex and the body.

“Hey, listen… I’ve got an idea.”

“Does it involve filling me with corpse organs?”

“You make it sound so weird.” First Aid grimaced. “I’m just saying… I think I can splice your two systems together. Just enough to get us back to Earth.”

“I’m game if you are.” He softly swore in Ukrainian. “As soon as we get back, I’m killing the lot of them.”

“I’ll try and find you a new gun too, then.”

“You know the way to my heart, darling.”

First Aid stood and waved up to Blast Off, gesturing for Cosmos to come down. Blast Off knelt, visor opening, and Cosmos slipped out, carefully climbing down before sprinting over to him.

“Oh, thank god you’re both still alive!” She hugged him tightly. First Aid awkwardly patted her back.

“Not for long if we can’t get that corpse over here. Can you guys move it for us? Vortex’s nervous system was severed, he can’t move his legs.”

“What?” She pulled away, holding his shoulders tightly as she frowned. “What do you want that for?”

“I want its spine.” First Aid said matter of factly.

Cosmos grimaced. “Its… spine? Alright.” She nodded firmly, expression setting into determination. “We’ll help.”

Work went much more quickly when a mech was involved. Cosmos watched and handed him tools when it came to the fine-tuning, Blast Off sat back and silently watching. First Aid got the impression that he hadn’t figured out how to move independently yet – a feat Vortex had only managed with time and effort himself. So he silently watched them instead. He wondered what he was thinking.

“Is… is he okay?” He quietly asked Vortex when he was deep in his internals and Cosmos was out of ear shot.

“He’s fine.” Vortex replied a bit too quickly. “Just adjusting.”

He left it at that. Vortex was sounding weak, his voice strained. He double and triple checked his work before he went to make the final connection, the one that would have Vortex’s system finally shake hands with that of the quintessons. And with that, he quickly scrambled out to look at him and assess his work.

The organic flesh twitched and glowed a sickly blue colour. Black oil smeared and pooled on the ground, pearlescent and pungent.

“How’re you feeling, Vortex?” First Aid nervously asked. Blue was bleeding into the red of his visor, a bright toxic blue that was so much like the blood the aliens bled. He didn’t reply, and all he heard over their comm link was static.

“What’s going on?” Cosmos asked. “Why is he blue?”

“I don’t know.” First Aid frowned. “He’s not speaking to m-”

Vortex’s hand shot out faster than it moved naturally, catching them both by surprise. Without thinking, First Aid roughly shoved Cosmos out of the way, her head bouncing off of Vortex with a loud bang, her helmet splintering as cold metal fingers closed around him.

His helmet was suddenly alive with sound. Morse code. The same pattern he’d filled Prowls with all that time ago.

MINE.

He couldn’t breathe. The fingers were too tight around him, crushing him like a snake. His lungs burned, his vision swimming. He faintly heard a cracking sound and pain bloomed in his chest and something wet ran down his chin.

The mechs will keep you safe.

His mech was currently crushing him, and yet he’d never felt so safe in his life, so assured in where he stood in the universe.

“Tex, I can’t breathe.” He gasped. First Aid didn’t know if he was yelling or whispering – the beeping was so loud in his ears he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts. “Please stop, I can’t breathe-” he wetly choked, blue splashing down his chin.

Fuck. He had been poisoned. This just couldn’t get any worse, could it?

Vortex made a loud groaning noise, wet and spluttering and threatening. His hands tightened, and he couldn’t even scream.

The black spots were starting to overwhelm his vision. “I’m all yours, Svastjan.”

That much he was certain of. Everything else struck him as being distinctly wrong. The idea of belonging to someone had always turned his stomach, but if it was Svastjan? It felt like a warm blanket, a firm hug, like everything was going to be okay.

His helmet took the brunt of the impact as he hit the floor, Vortex’s grip suddenly releasing. It cracked, and First Aid whimpered, curling in on himself to cradle his wounds. Shit. Why did it all have to hurt so much?

He needed to get inside of him. It possessed him, overtook all common sense and thought. Shifting to be on all fours, his stomach cramped and he emptied its contents, red mixing with blue in a mirror of Vortex’s visor. Suddenly, the pieces slotted together in his mind and he was on his feet and staggering towards him before his brain caught up with his vision.

Vortex had been poisoned too. He’d done it. It was his fault, it had been his idea. He should have known better. Blue ran down his helm in a mockery of tears, and he felt his heart wrench.

First Aid didn’t know how he got there so fast. He’d blinked and he’d somehow managed to scale up his shoulder to his face, his hands pressed against the glass of the cockpit. “Let me in!” He banged against it, his ribs screaming at him to stop. He didn’t listen. “Let me in, let me in, let me i-!” He yelped as it suddenly opened and he fell in, back bending awkwardly as he ended up like a scorpion on the floor. Loudly groaning, he forced himself up and staggered to the pilots seat. Exhaustion was starting to settle in, adrenaline just not enough to keep him going any more. He tried to shove it to the back of his mind, to keep himself going for as long as he could, to do as much as he could before the broken bones and split flesh registered and he passed out.

[RUN] flashed on Vortex’s visor aggressively. First Aid ignored him, fighting with the harness to get into the pilots seat. Vortex was fighting back aggressively, trying to keep him away.

“Stop it!” He shouted. “Fucking- let me help you!”

[CAN’T STOP IT]

“Then I will!” First Aid roughly ripped the harness away, the stitches giving out. He threw himself into the seat and grabbed the controls, taking command of his arms. What remained of the harness tightly wrapped around him, holding him in place. The cable that connected him to Vortex’s systems roughly shoved itself into the port on the back of his head, and he screamed at the feeling of sharp digits shoving themselves through his skull. He let go of the controls to grab his head, to try and keep it together as it split and burst. The harness tightly wrapped around him, holding him still as he thrashed and tried to rip the cable out.

It wasn’t Vortex. There was something else in there, something that was roughly shoving him and his hands out of the way. It made his skin crawl, to think of something else in there with them, interrupting them and sullying their connection with its infected hands. Through the pain, through his screams through gritted teeth and the burn down his spine as his body twisted and arched and bended in ways it wasn’t designed to, through the searing burn over his skin, he reached inside to find out where they came from.

He knew quintesson biology. He’d cut up enough of them to feel confident and familiar with it, it was the only reason he felt comfortable splicing their organic systems with Vortex’s artificial ones to keep him alive. But he’d missed something. Why was the quintesson in his system? Why were they still alive?

The mechs hands moved with his mental search, tracing down over his chest and to the gaping hole in his abdomen. The fingers dug into the new flesh, still wet and oozing and wriggling. Pain wracked through him and he whimpered, brow creasing and teeth gritting, but he persisted. They’d missed something. There was something they’d not seen before, something new to be explored. Quintessons had two brains. One in the head, and another down at the root of their lower limbs. There must have been a third one, an even more primitive brain that they hadn’t ever been looking for before, one that they’d never spotted, one that had made its way in as he mixed blood and bone and metal. The pain stung and burned like he was being slowly flayed by a scalding hot knife. The sharp claws dug into his skull twisted and turned, pulling him this way and that in a desperate attempt to get him to stop. He felt wet, his vision was obscured by bursts of white and bright colour, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He was a medic, his job was to save people, and he needed to save Vortex.

The panic became intense as he explored the spine. His own popped and cracked, his body seizing and his vision spluttering in and out. He faintly heard Vortex’s voice, but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t let himself get distracted, not when he was so close. Digging in deeper, blunt digits slowly mapped it out, tracing over familiar structures and shapes until they bumped against something foreign and unknown.

Fear flooded him, and he faltered. Found it. He felt familiar hands wrap around his own, and suddenly he didn’t feel so afraid any more.

Vaguely, he wondered if they’d have any issues if a third consciousness died whilst they were connected, but he didn’t care. He wanted it gone.

“Get out of my body!”

It came out with a wet squelch. First Aid felt his consciousness tremble, he felt Vortex’s flickering in and out of being. His throat felt raw and his chest weak, all he could manage was a broken whimper as he reached out towards him to try and grab onto him, to hold him there, to make sure he was still a part of him.

He felt the pressure of someone pulling him into a hug, oh so very gentle against the remnants of his body. He didn’t realise how fragile he felt until he was being held like he were made of glass. Stubble brushed against his cheek, a rough scratch against softer skin. A hand tangled in his hair, brushing it back away from his face, and a clammy forehead pressed against his own with a sigh of relief.

[chiliger]

Jazz worries for Optimus’ health.

Inspired by @keferon ‘s Mecha Pilot AU. It’s some really cool stuff, and I remember reading a post somewhere about Optimus being one of the first people to pilot a mecha during the technology’s infancy. Which lead to some serious physical and mental repercussions. I immediately thought of the scene from Pacific Rim and had to make a rough animatic.

[yayadrawsthingz]

Oh Hey look it's Ch 2 of this thing I made for @keferon 's Mecha au. More Texaid because I can not, not love them. This paring has done stuff to me, so I am making all of this, you're problem. Have fun reading.

tw for mild gore

----------------------

All was black, that’s all that Vortex could see as he pushed against the restraints of Shockwave’s weird mind control thing. “Come on. Just. Let. Me. THROUGH!” Vortex pushed and pushed, until he was falling. Down and down, faster and faster until he hit the ground hard. Or was it really the ground, considering that this was Felix’s mind.

Getting up was disorienting, Felix’s mind was a rush of multiple things happening at the same time and truthfully, it sometimes made Vortex’s head hurt by how overcomplicated Felix made unnecessary things. No matter what, he is in the depth of his mind. The only problem now, finding Felix alive. 

The Problem was how? How can you find someone that’s trapped in their own mind, and how does he know he’s not talking to a memory? Uhhg Think Vortex Think, there has to be a- 

Laughter filled the area and a tiny figure ran past him. The darkness was no longer darkness, instead, a fuzzy memory of outside. Looking down at the kid-First aid;Felix as a kid, he was holding something in his hands, running closer to other kids. Looking closer he could see that what little Aid was holding was the shedding of a garter snake. Kid happily presented it like a trophy only to be screamed out that he was disgusting, before they ran away from him. Lil Felix looked down at the snake with a pout. “What’s wrong with the snakie pajama?” Before any more words were said, the world changed around the two of them, well mostly Vortex as now he was standing in a classroom with a teenager Felix cutting open a frog. He was the only one enjoying it, as the others around him were gagging at the smell, or were refusing to dissect it. He heard whispers around them from the ‘popular’ girls. “Eww is he really enjoying that?” “What a freak, like dissecting animals.” “You think he killed animals when he was younger.” “He should be put in the loony bin.” Vortex growled at those words, how dare they say such mean things about Felix. Ya He may be a freak, but he’s not a psychopath. If only he can give them a piece of his mind, but he can’t, as it was just a fucking memory. 

Just like the last one, The memory was changing into a courthouse. Felix was in prison cloths, and it seemed like he was being sentenced when- 

Shockwave walked in, asking the judge if he could take the organ stealer off his servos, and put him to good use of community service as a medic in his company. The Judge thought about it, before giving him his sentence that he would be put into community service by Senator Shockwave’s Mecha program. 

The memory changed once again. He was standing in front of himself- His Mecha. Glowing red visor as it displayed “Get inside” only this time it was different, instead of letting him in all the way, no the visor closed shut, blood everywhere, as Felix gasped for air, screaming his lungs out, trying to push open the hydraulics of the visor. But it was fruitless, He would die here, another victim of the cursed Mecha. 

But unlike all of the other times, Felix’s eyes snapped directly onto his, a hand outstretched as he weakly called out.

“V-Vortex.” 

That got the ghost into action, rushing to his side, pulling him up and off of his mech's closed visor, blood following as his legs were left outside. He placed two hands on his cheeks. “Felix, First aid, Listen to me, it’s all going to be ok, you need to fight him. You need to fight Shockwave off. None of this is real. You are not hurt. I will never harm you like this. This is all him trying to scare you into giving up. So please. Felix. Don’t give up on yourself… Don’t give up on me.”

A hand was placed on his own cheeks, the smell of blood was strong, as Felix smiled. “You came.” “I,, Of course I came, I’m not an idiot, the only one who’s allowed to control you is me. Got it. No one is taking that away from me!”

Felix laughed weekly, hoisting himself up so he could wrap his arms around Vortex’s neck. “Got any ideas on how to leave the deep corners of my mind?” 

“I may know a way, so hang on tight baby.” He grinned, sharp fangs showing. Then they were taking off, out of the fake memories. Felix gained his legs back, and the blood disappearing the moment they came back to the darkness. 

Then they were being thrown back into real life. Vortex knew it was real mostly because he felt cold, ghostly, and not solid like he had been in Felix’s mind. The man in question gasped loudly, throwing his head forward, saliva dripping from his mouth. The mech paused, it had been moving before but now it was stopped with no one playing with the controls. 

Felix immediately took his hands off, realizing that he had just touched the one thing that had killed off multiple other pilots. Vortex just grinned at Felix’s worry, it was so cute, he really wanted to chomp down on him, perhaps find a way to make him a ghost piloting this mech alongside him. 

But no, they had bigger issues to attend too. There was electricity that flowed through the helmet into Felix, making him scream again. Damn it, Shcokwave was not going to let up was he. He will have to break his own rule. 

“Felix Pilot me.” “W-what, Pilot- I’m not going to- AHK”

“You can and you will, I am ordering you to pilot me, While I take on Shockwave. Don’t disappoint me, Aiddy.” His Grin was back to being sharp and full of venom, disappearing into the mecha itself, He was ready to defend Felix with his life. Not to let a single code from Shockwave get anywhere near Felix. 

He trusted the man not to fuck him up. Because it was no longer just him on the line, it was both of them. With a yell from the both of them, One piloting the mech like second nature while the other took on the waves of code.

They will stop Shockwave, once and for all.

-----------

This will possibly be the last chapter. But If I think of more, I'll just make a third chapter, hope you all liked it.

[gt-abby]

damn i want to be a part of the mecha au community for jazzprowl but i bareky have time to breathe, someone help

[stati22]

@keferon s Mecha pilot AU made my brain worms demand Blurr and Swerve so here they are, hope you happy brain worms

[skeletondeer]

Soundwave is the key communications officer between the Mecha and base control, without them, the whole operation goes silent. When they’re not working alongside Megatron and Starscream, they’re taking care of their little sisters, Rumble and Frenzy, and their cat Ravage is almost always glued to them.

Another backlog piece from my Mecha AU! I’ve got more art already on twitter or on my Patreon, but I’ll be uploading it all here over the next few weeks.

[quiminus]

My piece for the mecha pilot au enjoy `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧

Pov shockwave

The tea tasted of nothing, the words in the book were all blurry, since one cannot read in a dream the book was the picture of dorian gray

- i hope you like what i made, you know im not the best cook but i tried - said orion his dear orion

Orions face was a bit blurry, his memory of him had faded over the years and only now he was noticing this

- it tastes wonderful, you really outdid yourself this time - shockwave said his voice lighter than it had been in years

Shockwave entertained orion, this version of orion at least, while he tried to jog his memory and remember what happened before this

- you know, the upgrades you intstalled in our mech really helped with withdrawal symptons after the conection ends - said orion grateful to not feel like recovering addict every time he stepped out of their combined mech

Ah, yes now i remember- thought shockwave finaly realizing what happened

The mental space he had created for the pilots and their friends while he finalized his experiment, his orion, something had gone wrong and he had to step into the simulation, it seems not even he was able to resist its pull

- im glad they work, if it wasnt for me we would be wearing normal pilot suits - shockwave smiled a real smile something he hadnt done in years

- why not listen to some music, you always liked classical right? - orion reached for a radio that definetly wasnt there and turned it on

"Baby we built this house on memo.." "what if happened to you on..." and finally the sound of an orchestra it was the requiem of wolfgang from mozart

- no, you liked classical and roped me into this - mock accused shockwave with no real bite

The "evening" progressed much like this shockwave trying to regain his memory and find the exit while entertaing this "orion"

When it finally hit him

- you know, jazz i have been getting really into jazz recently i dont know why but it has made me really relax whenever i listen to it- orion said  after taking a sip of his tea

That pilot jazz and his alien mech, what was his name growl or something? They teamed up to fuck with progress with his orion and now it was time to fix this

He got up went to the door a few feet behind their table and went to grab the doorknob when

- where are you going? - asked orion confused

- i forgot something in my lab, ill go grab it and then we can continue - said shockwave giving one last glance at orion before he left the void where their table was

Walking between the simulations was something, first aid, what was his real name flex or something, was dissecting an alien with vortex, the real human version of vortex at his side, by the heated look on vortexes face it seems like the activity was about to change

The combaticons or rather onslaught, blast off and brawl were all getting drunk reminiscing about the good old days back when they were simple mercenaries brawl was trying to see how many cigaretes he could fit into his mouth

Deadlock ratchet and hot rod were all at ratchets home deadlock was in his vehicle mode drifting while hot rod was inside having the time of his life and ratchet supervised

Swindle was awed at swerve while blurr was laughing his ass off at swindles expression swerve flipped into alt mode and somehow swindle got even more bewildered with blurrs laughter geting even bigger

[Ignore this paragraph]

Dawnbreaker her human version Daniela brooks was ice skating she was in a competicion and was giving her all the music she chose for this one was funeral by neoni

[Now continue]

And finally his targets growl and jazz they somehow got out of the simulation and were trying to wake up everyone it was an easy fix just tweak a few things in the code and ban they were back where they belonged they were in a spaceship prowl was teling jazz about the stars and the constelations they formed he was talking about the constelation of orion and jazz was listening very closely not missing one detail

Before departing he took one last glance to it all orion waiting for him at a table in the void the pilots the setient mechs sighed and went back to the real world back to his orion to finalize his experiment it was worth it it will be worth it everything he told himself and opened his eyes and went back to real life

Now this has a continuatuon ->

[karanseraph]

I kinda want Mirage and Skywarp to play in the Transformers mecha pilot alternate universe, which @keferon originated.

I'm not 100% on who would be the pilot. I think it might make sense if the serious super-spy got the playful teleporting mecha with wings that sometimes just wants to teleport away from danger.

But it might be funny if the cocky but secretly scared military pilot got the mecha full of spy gadgets and holo-tech with the haughty and critical personality.

[serotoninisheldinkiwis]

been thinking abt @keferon 's mecha au and woe silly guy upon ye

i raise to you! mecha pilot arcee! from high-school teacher to mecha pilot, she's had one HECK of an interesting career path! her focus in her mech actually isn't combat- it's more evacuation and rescue! that doesn't mean she can't pop an invading quint if she has to, she's been trained in battle, but while mecha like jazz' and blurr's take point in fighting she helps injured people and crowds get away from the fight safely! her mech is one of the smallest and most compact for ease of maneuverability, but she is the most annoying wriggly glitch to exist because of this <33

[notsodailycake]

Its all okay dont worry! whenever you want to write or find your motivation again I will be here to read it ^^ No pressure you to go back, do what you enjoy thats more important I respect it, hope you have a nice day/night *hugs*

Thank you anon, that's very sweet of you. I appreciate it

And I'm glad that, for what I DID share, you've enjoyed it uwu

[silence-ofthe-llamas]

The Mecha AU-AU continues. In todays episode; the Protectobots exist, Trepan is weird, and Vortex gets a pleasant (?) surprise.

I've also written an UNGODLY amount of Combaticon pre-mech content so ig that's gonna have to escape containment at some point, weeh.

“Hey, isn’t that Felix?”

Hot Spot watched the TV in the break room intently as he drank his coffee. His cereal sat half-eaten and forgotten on the table in front of him. Blades looked over from the toaster, flinching when his toast popped up.

“Felix?” Blades asked. “What, on TV?” He asked in disbelief. He rounded the counter and jumped over the back of the sofa to sit next to his commander. “No way.”

“Seriously – look!” Hot Spot grabbed the remote and rewound, pausing when Felix had come up out of the joint of a mech, looking at something behind the camera in pure relief.

“Holy shit. That is Felix!”

“Look – he gets into that mech.” Hot Spot wound it forwards, showing the brief moment of Felix climbing up and slipping into the face of the mech, the visor snapping shut behind him. “Do you think he’s a pilot?”

“No, no way – he’s a medic. He never ever wanted to pilot, they’d have to be really desperate for them if they’re resorting to using their medical crew.”

“He seems way too comfortable getting into that thing.” Hot Spot shuddered. “It looked like it was eating him.”

“Don’t, that’s creepy.” Blades cringed, climbing back over the sofa to rescue his toast.

“Stop that.” Hot Spot scolded. “Just walk, it’s not far!”

Blades ignored him. “Have you heard the rumours about that base? With all the body bags? I wonder what that was all about.”

Hot Spot rolled his eyes and returned to his cereal. “No idea. I guess when you’re fighting quintessons your life expectancy isn’t great.”

“Neither is ours, and we don’t have giant metal exoskeletons or unexplainable numbers of body bags. What’s their excuse?”

Hot spot shrugged. “No idea. Why don’t you ask them?”

“Oh, good shout – I’ll text Felix.”

“Blades-”

“Relax! I’m not going to say anything stupid.”

“You said that last time and look where that got us.”

“Yeah, right, fair, whatever.” Blades waved him off dismissively. “I’ll just mention I saw him on TV, see?” He turned his phone around to show Hot Spot. “Totes fine, perfectly safe, nothing could possibly go wrong. Worst case scenario, he ignores me, best case he says ‘haha yup’ or something and that’s the end of that.”

“Don’t make him uncomfortable. You know he asked to be left alone.”

“We send each other reels on Instagram again, I think it’s okay if I reach out.”

Hot Spot sighed and unpaused the TV.

-------------------------------------

The tech was too new when they shoved their first AI’s into it.

They’d tested a connection between live pilots already - two separate units that operated as one. They found that it worked, to a point. The two consciousnesses would wave, but never shake hands - the physical contact snapped their psyche. It was only when they had developed the RABIT units that they could truly operate as one – but the pinch point had always been getting them into the same machine . It just did things to people.

Prowl and Jazz had been their best duo’s team, their dark horse - the pair flew under the radar until they were fitted with the experimental tech and blew the project out of the water straight into the lap of investment. And, Swindle noticed, into the scope of

Trepan.

He giggled as he watched them, humming and hawing. Which one? Which one would be his sacrifice?

They’re married , they argued. You can’t force one to pilot the corpse, that’s wildly unethical.

Fine. Then we find a new pilot.

Swindle could only watch. If he objected now, he’d cast doubt onto himself. Vortex would be in more danger. His team might stay in that poxy little box forever.

Vortex himself was a monster. As a prototype, he was huge. Way too big. The technology hadn’t been fine tuned yet to bring the scale back down - and so he towered above them, a monument to their attempt at survival.

And he’d survived. The experimental tech, too fresh and too new, had destroyed the rest of his prototype cohort. Out of the original 15, he alone survived. The 11 carved into his shoulder shone in the red of the blood that they had spilled to get there.

The next cohort was smaller. Swindle hadn’t put forwards any of his team.

You want people who will survive - these guys ain’t it. I know my team, they haven’t got the moxy. The tech needs to be more stable.

Trepan didn’t raise his brows. He seemed to delight in his harsh words, and selected 5 other banked sacrifices.

They all died too. Burned out. Literally. They’d decreased the size of the mechs, the faults and failures of the predecessors informing their design.

Vortex stood alone.

Swindle chewed his nails until they bled fretting over his mental state. He couldn’t get close to him, he couldn’t go and check - he couldn’t even acknowledge him. The magnifying glass pinned him, every breath studied. The tech was so new. Was it really still

Vortex in there? Was he recognisable? Did he know what was going on? Did he know anything ?

God Tex, I’m so sorry.

The pilots falling out of him started telling horror stories.

There was something else in there with them. Something beyond the AI, a malevolent presence in there that wanted to hurt them. The researchers had been dismissive, but Trepan had been intrigued. Swindle had been corralled by him, armed with questions.

What had Svastjan been like in life? Did he have the same devotion to violence in life as he did in death? Was he particularly skilled with any weapons? Were any other members of his team like him? Or was he alone in his brutality?

He told him the truth. He was like this. He had a tendency to jump on the heads of the ones he’d knocked to the ground, to force himself through their body. Pistols and knives were his speciality. And no – he was alone. The others were what they liked to call well adjusted.

The expectation he had was that Trepan would be disappointed, but he had just hummed and nodded his head, quickly returning his attention to the next mech to come off the assembly line.

He uncomfortably ran a hand through his hair as he saw the footage that aired. Trepan was sat beside him, still as much of a crane of a man as he had been back in the research lab. He sat with his legs daintily crossed, his hands resting on his knees as he sat up perfectly ram-rod straight.

“Who is the man so comfortable with our pet?” Trepan asked.

He’d started referring to Vortex as his pet as some kind of cute nickname for him – he’d survived so much and had given him so much information to chew on that he’d grown a real soft-spot for him.

“That’s Felix.”

“His pilot?”

“Correct. First one he hasn’t outright murdered or mentally destroyed.”

“Fascinating.” He steepled his fingers together, eyes wide and beady, taking in all the information on the screen. “He seems to be very familiar with the mech.”

“Felix is a weird one.” Swindle knew he had to toe the line, to act as a gossip to displace the suspicion, to offload it somewhere else. “He’s weirdly attached to his mech – he’s always around it.” He hoped the look on Trepans face wasn’t a bad sign.

“Vortex is a success. Finally.” He leaned back in satisfaction. “We can justify further use of his batch. As their guardian… choose. Who is next to be interred into living metal?”

Swindle remembered the day the experiments came to an end vividly. He hadn’t been able to stomach it after they’d all started screaming for each other – and they weren’t using their call-signs, either. The time for that had long gone – it was their real names that had come spilling out. The ones their mothers had given them as they first swaddled them in blankets. The ones that had been carried on the wind when it was time for dinner. The ones now spoken in hushed voices after dinner.

All he had left of them was a fucking box. He could hold all four of them in one hand. Small components that were welded into the motherboard. A collective century of experience and knowledge and history condensed down into four identical electrical components.

Swindle wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and cry and throw himself off of the bridge, swept away by the current and buried under sediment and rubbish and corpses. But he couldn’t - he had to hold it together. If he broke now, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. There was a job to be done.

Vortex was the obvious first pick. The next pick was harder. Significantly so. Who next? It had been a question that had haunted him ever since.

Swindle felt himself break out into a cold sweat. The tech wasn’t anywhere near where he wanted it to be, and the thought of having to try and wrangle two of them had him sprouting greys. He ran through them in his mind, counting it off on his fingers.

Onslaught. His commander. He’d trusted him with this, and he was certain to be disappointed with how it had all worked out, but he was also the one who could keep Vortex in line. However, Vortex was currently staying firmly in line and was studiously behaving himself now that he had Felix. It seemed that he’d cottoned on to the fact he was now the bargaining chip, and he was determined to play the part of a good little boy in order to keep his favourite toy.

Brawl. His personality was explosive, and any mech they made for him would have to have the thickest armour available, and even then that probably wouldn’t be enough. They weren’t at the point of making a viable mech for him yet, which left…

Blast Off. Their unifier. The centre of their team, their point of gravity. Damn, it was fucking obvious now – if Trepan was keen to crack the mausoleum back open and bring his team online, then he’d have to start with the one who kept them from cannibalising each other.

Trepan was looking at him expectantly, a small smile on his face.

“Jean-Luc B. Ollier.” Swindle promptly replied. “Code name: Blast Off. He’s a sniper and a navigator – where are we at with that gun? He’d be a great test for it.”

“Not Oscar Den Koning? Juan Perez?”

“Oscar will be hard.” Swindle replied. “Very strong personality – if we want him, we’ll need the others all up and operational first. Juan was our demolitions expert – we don’t have the ability to make armour strong enough to withstand the beating he would put it through right now.”

Trepan nodded like a priest having sins confessed to him. “Very well. I will pass this on. Thank you as always, Swindle. This has been most enlightening.”

“When will the designs be ready for viewing?” Swindle asked.

“Very soon, I hope.”

And with that, he was gone. Swindle exhaled slowly before breathing in deeply, holding it there in his lungs, and slowly exhaling.

Fuuuuuuck.

-------------------------------------

“Did you hear? They’re making a new batch of mechs.” First Aid conversationally said as he scrubbed the floor panels of the cockpit with a toothbrush. Despite his best attempts, there was still some dirt and grime in there – he was starting to get a little sick of noticing it every single time he got into his mech, so he’d decided that today, his precious day off, he’d dedicate it to making him sparkly clean.

On the inside, at least. The outside he’d leave to the professionals.

[OOOH? TELL ME MORE <3]

“One’s a prototype mech – apparently it’s going to be designed to be more like you? Something about balancing out what a powerhouse you are. Might end up being on loan to the Shatterdome to the south, apparently they’re having real big issues at the moment.” He sighed and rolled back to sit on his heels, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hands. “What did you even do back here? It’s still coming up red – I’ll need to pop the panel off!”

[THIS.]

An arm swooped down from the ceiling, sharp implements spinning and twisting on the end of it. First Aid yelped and scrambled backwards, and Vortex rumbled in a laugh.

“Why do you even have that?!”

[HACKED A MAINTENANCE DROID. HACKED TWO MAINTENANCE DROIDS.] He corrected himself.

“And they just let you keep it?”

[AS IF I’D LET THEM STOP ME.]

First Aid hummed, running his fingers across the offending metal. “I need a toolkit to get this up. I’ll be right back – I think I saw one in the cupboard…”

[LATER BABE <3 BE QUICK.]

First aid hopped out with ease and quickly whipped off his gloves, hanging them over his belt. He rubbed his hair from his eyes and silently wished he had a hairband when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Curiously, he slipped it out – he wasn’t expecting any messages from anyone, and he couldn’t think of who would text him out of the blue-

His pace faltered when he saw the name.

Blades.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket and the message to the back of his mind. Later. He’d… He’d deal with it later. Right now, Vortex was waiting for him, and he was so close to getting that panel clean.

-------------------------------------

Having a chatty little man like Felix around had its perks for sure. Such as giving Vortex such useful bits of information, like new mechs.

Each time he learned that new mechs were being added to rosters around the world, he went digging. He’d brute force his way in, hammering and chiselling away until he got what he wanted. Information. Something that gave him an idea of who they’d stuffed into them.

He wondered what Trepan would think if he knew that he wasn’t as brain-dead as he was meant to be, that he wasn’t a silly little AI that said ‘yes, sir!’ and did as he was asked, that he still remembered who he was and clung onto it, that he knew exactly what had happened to him and let it burn inside of him to the point of consumption. Sometimes he wondered if any of the other mechs on base remembered who they once were too, but then that implied that they still hadn’t figured out the damn tech yet, and at least one of the pilots would have gone squealing. Prowl definitely. The man was such a tattle tale.

Huh. Maybe that was why he’d been shipped off to the States? That would be so fucking funny. Jesus.

Anyway. The digging.

He’d poked and probed where he could, the enjoyment he got out thinking of Swindles face when he realised it was him spurring him on, and eventually – he cracked it.

Felix was popping the panel off on his floors when he got hold of the file. A small batch – just five of them. Apparently investors hadn’t bitten as hard as they’d hoped. And they’d had to cut it down by two thirds – ouch. That had to sting. Swindle must have been chewing the walls. Giggling to himself, he began flicking through the folders within, plucking out bytes of information, straightening out the ones and zeros until they were in a format that he could understand-

His lights flickered, and First Aid froze, abused and beaten toothbrush in hand.

“Vortex?” He quietly asked. “I’m sorry – did I knock something?”

[YOU’RE ALRIGHT, HONEY.] He managed, not quite thinking of his reply more than it instinctively coming up on his display. Because he was alright. He hadn’t done anything.

Trepan, however, clearly had his paws on this batch.

SNIPER, the document read. LONG DISTANCE SHOOTER. LIGHT ARMOUR FOR MANOEUVRABILITY. DESIGNATION: BLAST OFF

Motherfucker.

Even the mech somehow managed to look like him – the armour followed the same patterns as the armour that he’d worn on the field, albeit significantly brighter. They could afford to be bright and gaudy when they were made of metal – they wanted to attract the hits. And a bright purple chest was just begging to get punched.

Eagerly, he flicked through the other documents. Brawl? Onslaught?

No. He didn’t care about these names – he didn’t give a shit about them. Not a goddamn single shit. He childishly mentally threw the file over his shoulder, his frame creaking ominously and the wiring under the panel Felix had removed sparking. Trepan was doing this on purpose, he could feel it. He was denying him his team, he was savouring their torment for as long as he could. Fucker. He’d crush him himself.

[soundcrusher]

My writing mood's kinda on the low and the writer's block is slowly sneaking around the corner, so, wip time it is!

Number 1!

Three works involving characters and universes from @cuppajj .

Left: A continuation of "Meanwhile in Another Universe" where Phoenix gets turned into a sparkling because of shenanigans.

Middle: Part 8 of the story between cuppa's Imperious and my Quick Search.

Right: Just a small thing playing in cuppa's Mecha Pilot AU. I did end the first story on a cliffhanger after all. (And stopped working on it for a while.)

Number 2!

I will continue the Hot Rod/Overlord thing. It's going to be my weirdest story, I think?

[springtimeishere]

I love CHAOS 💕

Wait it'd actually be so funny when all the different stories of the Mech au start overlapping. Because none of them know almost anything about each other they'd be so confused.

Jazz, Prowl, and Swerve arrive on earth and meet Ratchet and find that this random ass Decepticon has been living on Earth for god knows how long and are just "How the hell did you even GET HERE???"

And then there's TexAid who haven't had ANY Cybertronian shenanigans yet so First Aid is just like "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE GIANT ALIEN ROBOTS??? I'VE BEEN DEALING WITH A GHOST THIS WHOLE TIME!!" So everyone else has to deal with the fact Ghosts exist apparently.

AHAHAHAHAHHA HELP

First aid: ALIVE ROBOTS ARE REAL???

Cybertronians: You're literally sitting inside one..no?

First aid: nonono Vortex isn't robot, he's a ghost

Cybertronians: GHOSTS ARE REAL????

Deadlock staring at Prowl: The fuck you look like that?

Prowl: I scanned a Mecha. So I'm Mecha now.

Deadlock: Oh shit for real?? With lil human holder place and everything?

Prowl: Yes. It allows Jazz to...assist and control my movements in battle.

Deadlock: WAS THAT AN OPTION THIS WHOLE TIME???

Swerve: Ratchet. Ratch I love you but what do you mean the whole time we've been working together you had the ENTIRE DECEPTICON LIVING IN YOUR GARAGE??

Ratchet: AND YOU'VE BEEN AN ALIEN ROBOT THIS WHOLE TIME AND DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME??

Swerve: I DIDN'T KNOW THAT ALRIGHT??

Ratchet: THE FUCK YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T KNOW???

[skeletondeer]

The Kotobukiya transformers design have me in a chokehold and I’m developing a whole Mecha pilot AU based around them, ht here’s so,e of the first art I made based off the figure designs.