#mechs mechs mechs mechs mechs mechs mechs
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JOHNNY D’VILLE????
they just prescribed me gunshot to the head at the urgent care
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mech pilot that gets deployed to fight against the affini, having no clue what they're up against. before they know it, vines have wound around their main gun and bound it in place; and because their senses are linked to their mech, they can feel it as if the vines were touching their own flesh. at first they're just surprised by how little it hurts and how comfortable the texture of the vines is, but mostly too busy struggling to try and escape to really notice. things only change when they chamber a round with the intent to fire it, but before they can get it into place, another tendril slides inside of the barrel of the gun to block it from firing
the affini doing all of this is very confused when the mech suddenly collapses to its knees and its head tilts upwards, robotic fingers twitching and hull lights flashing erratically, but she's pleased to have seemingly succeeded in pacifying the cutie
#hdg#human domestication guide#affini#hdg shitposting#floretposting#mechposting#mechs#mech pilot#mecha
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He’s about to have a kid but still throws tantrums like a child
Continuation of this
#bros giving his unborn child exp before they even spawn#already min maxing his stats#the Decepticons just want him out of the ship his carrier protocols are horrible#Starscream is the father btw#for that one anon who wanted to know if the other comic was a continuation the bird one isn’t but this is#I already had this post in my drafts though so might as well post it#transformers#transformers fanart#transformers g1#maccadams#megatron#optimus prime#ratchet#tf ratchet#mechpreg#I dont think I will ever draw a mech actually showing like a human though#How will they transform??#what if they just stay in their alt mode the entire time?#actually the real reason is cause i can’t draw it lol#just like fight scenes
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Can't sleep so I draw this two silly mech instead ✍️😪

Close up





#tf#tf g1#tf art#transformers#transformers g1#art#fanart#sketch art#ironhide#bumblebee#I REALLY LOVE THIS OLD RED MECH SM but never have a chance to drawing him... sooo THIS is my first time draw him and I'm so proud of it!#I've an idea about trying to draw him in Bayverse cause you know... WHY NOT His design in that movie so freaking cool and i kinda like it#AND THIS IS NOT A SHIP OF COURSE ☝️😠💥💥💥
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..phew at least I'm not grounded <<

mech fans are so funny. what if there was a guy who was normal and doing just fine
#my big pupper mech had a hiccup but it's not her fault!#i got to see a lot of pretty colors though >>#mechdad best dad!
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Custom Everest for one of my Patrons!
If you wanna consider supporting me and getting cool art like this, consider joining my Patreon!
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In your opinion, what is the most fuckable Lancer frame?
Dusk Wing, windmill slam.
Now some Lanceblrs are probably gonna call me a basic bitch, but let me explain my reasoning here.
Now I'm a monsterfucker. I like fucking monsters. And we can all talk about fantasies and shit but if I'm gonna take a mech's dick - and I am, I'm the bottom in this scenario and I'm planting my flag right now - it needs to be Size 1/2. I'm sorry, but no human body is capacious enough to accept the schlong of a Size 1 mech. I don't care if you've been training on Chance XLs your entire adult life, the GMS Standard-Pattern Size 1 fuckpole is meant for mechs of its own size class only. My pelvic floor would disintegrate upon touching it. It's a non-starter. Size 1/2s only.
Unfortunately, this restriction leaves me with a distressingly small stable of viable mechs, some of which are instant disqualifications.
The Caliban is right out the window, immediately. It's not a machine intended to be an image of man fucking large. It was never meant to thrust across the battlefield erotically to affect a greater orgasm. It is a tool designed to kill human beings very, very quickly. The Caliban is married to the job, and the only ejaculations it produces are 8-gauge buckshot. I'm going to confidently put it down as asexual. Also, the awkward arrangement of its hips would produce deeply inadequate thrusting.
The Kobold is clearly into BDSM, and specifically, waxplay. The Kobold likes to cause you erotic pain by dripping molten fluids all over your naked, trembling body, and don't get me wrong, that's hot - but we're talking like 900 degrees hot. I want my body to burn with forbidden passion, not to actually catch fire because it's covered in superheated chemicals that shouldn't ever touch. Besides, their spiky carapace feels like it would be a problem for some of the positions I want to try.
The Napoleon and I actually dated once and it didn't go very well at all so he's right out.
Now you'd think on first glance that the Atlas is the perfect fuckbuddy - anthroform, roughly the correct height, weight and shape, and possessed of those athletic, muscular arms that can just pin you down while going to town on you. That's all well and good, but he's so painfully boring. All he ever wants to do is fuck missionary, and his idea of aftercare is watching Demon Slayer. I can't. I just can't.
The Goblin wouldn't return my calls. After the third try, it just texted me this:
0S1R1Smaxx1ng: girl fuck off harrison iii just added me to a group chat
Now, that leaves the Dusk Wing, which fortunately for us presents several advantages.
Firstly: hands. Six of them (at bare minimum). You know how hot it is to be pinned to the wall by your wrists, your ankles and STILL get your tits and ass groped? Those hands are dextrous and surprisingly gentle, and when those fingers go in your mouth, you can bite down hard without hurting your jaw or chipping your teeth.
Secondly: comfort. The Dusk Wing is based off of old EVA hardsuit designs, built for ergonomics, so a lot of its non-armored sections are made out of flexible polymer that doesn't chafe against your skin. The armored sections are smooth composite. There's no spurs or spikes, no jagged or protruding elements, and no crush hazards. Heat rejection systems mostly point backwards from the mech, which might be a problem if I wanted to be on top, but we've already established I don't.
Thirdly: memetics. I'm an absolute freak for mind control, and the Dusk Wing can make me feel like I'm being fucked by sixteen of itself at once. It can squeeze my tongue and whisper its name to me and make me feel like me and it are the only things in the entire universe. It can show me myself climaxing over and over and over and over and over and over.
I hope this excessively answers your question.
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The Arcturus Missions
Part Thirty Five - Reactionary Actions
Part Thirty Four
———
There are considered four basic types of human relationships; familial relationships, friendships, acquaintanceships, and romantic relationships.
Familial relationships are formed through blood ties or legal connections, invoking both close and extended family.
8% of pilots have this direct connection.
Friendships are defined as voluntary bond based on shared interests, values, experiences, and are often characterized by shared support and respect.
87% of pilots among the MECHA database log between 1 and 4 other pilots in this category.
Acquaintanceships and Professional relations are known to be limited in scope, often involving those you either recently met or those whom you spend limited or set time around.
25% of pilots consider other pilots at large to be professional relationships while another 15% consider them solely acquaintances.
Romantic relationships are formed through romantic attraction, respect, intimacy, and a deep emotional connection.
93% of pilots who enter the program while in a romantic relationship, no matter the category thereof, are known to no longer have those relationships post testing.
Relationships are highly complicated and complex, dependent on the person or persons involved as a whole.
—
Leaving New Kaon felt like going on a cruise, maybe not a long cruise or even one on a smooth ocean but still a cruise. A respite that was more than needed, at least for Hound.
It was hard to picture that they’d only been there for around a week, it truly felt like a lifetime. Then again, missions like that one usually felt that way, especially with those outcomes.
Sunstreaker was on a different transport shuttle with Ironhide and his unit, while Breakdown was remaining in the city with the secondary unit for more monitoring of the system. Hound had tried to stay but now was sitting effectively in isolation on the shuttle. Though Megatron had not said a lot his actions had spoken louder than any orders. His commander was remaining on New Kaon as well; they'd likely return in a few weeks. The Prime’s shuttle was ahead of this one, taking the few wounded that needed more intense care with it.
Sighing slowly, Hound hangs his head, closing his eyes.
The ship hummed quietly through space, it was weird how familiar the sound of a spaceship could become. It was oddly comforting, how the small sense of familiarity brought so much peace. Leaning back in the seat, Hound opens his eyes slowly, “You know, it’s unnerving how quiet you are.” He kept his voice low, staring at Mirage who was now sitting across from him.
With a smile, Mirage shrugged a bit, “Says one of the few mecha who can tell where I am when I use my outlier.” Hound shrugged and nodded, “True.” He smiles, his visor lighting up the shuttle a bit.
Shifting, Mirage stands and moves to sit next to him, “You feeling better Hound?” He almost wanted to sigh or worse, roll his eyes, but instead he nodded, “I’m alright Mirage, I swear it.” Kicking his feet out in front of him, he crosses his ankles comfortably. Mirage watched with a slight frown, “Are you sure?” Nodding, Hound looked over, “Of course, why do you ask?” It wasn’t obvious, not to him.
But to Mirage he could see the difference clear as day.
“Your movements, physical mannerisms, they’ve changed.” He was frowning, “They changed before your crash but they're still different.” Hound’s heart raced, frowning down at his feet a bit before looking at Mirage, who shifted a bit, “You almost look more comfortable, more fluid in your movements, less stiff. Was that precursor? To the crash?” Sighing, Hound shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice.” Rubbing his hands over his face, his head thumps against the wall. Closing his eyes again, Hound bit back a curse.
Shifting some, Mirage rests a hand on his shoulder, “Hound, what’s going on?” Keeping his eyes closed, he sighs slowly, “Back, back when I was a new pilot, I was different. We have classes of pilots, anyone can be a striker, that’s what I am now.” Mirage leaned forward some, “Now?” Nodding, Hound finally looked over, “Now, I first tested into Hunter class. Back then there were more classes than there are now, but most pilots are strikers now. It’s what we need.” Frowning, Mirage shifts again in his seat, “But you're all so different, does your class really cover so much?” Nodding, Hound smiled a bit.
Shrugging, he sighed, “Well, Breakdown is a tanker class, but the twins and I are all strikers. Or, well, before the crash I was just a striker. Now, I feel like I used to. More.. awake.” He flexes his fingers with a bit of a smile, visor brightening slightly. Mirage stared, nodding slowly, “Did you feel asleep this whole time?” With a sigh, Hound shook his head, “No, god no. I wouldn’t have been able to do half of what I’ve done had I been asleep. No, I just, I feel like me again.” He sighed, “No, that’s not right either.” Mirage chuckles.
Shaking his head, he tosses a hand out, “Forget it, I don’t have the right words for how I feel.” Hound looks at Mirage, visor still bright with a smile, and Mirage smiles, shaking his head, “Not even in another one of the languages from your home?” It almost brought him to crying laughter.
“Oh god, I can barely speak my native language let alone the two others I have certifications in. If I can’t explain it in English, then I can’t try to in Spanish or Arabic.” Mirage was smiling, a real smile that reached his eyes, and Hound tried not to swear again or shift uncomfortably. Glancing away, Mirage rubs at his neck subconsciously, “So, why do you know those languages over any others? Why not upload a communication chip?” Shaking his head, Hound shrugged, “We don’t have those on earth, you’ve got to sit down and learn it. These translators we use are new and you’ve seen how fallible they are.” Nodding, Mirage chuckles a bit, “Well, yeah. I was wondering why Jazz had a hard time back when he first appeared.” Hound chuckled, shaking his head.
For a moment, Hound thought of Perceptor, and the pilots still on Earth. Looking at the hands of his suit, he sighed slowly, “He tried to give us our best chance, Percy, he designed the translator.” Slowly, Mirage puts an arm around Hound’s shoulders, “He did and you’ll see them again, plus most of us have to meet him. Making it so that we can speak and grow close.” If anyone else were awake in the shuttle, they’d be cringing or gagging or making obscene gestures. Thankfully, most of everyone was asleep and the few that were awake were too focused on their own conversations.
Nodding some, Hound sits back, “If we all make it out of this war it will be a miracle.” Mirage squeezes his shoulder lightly, “We know the feeling, very well but we’ve got each other. All of us, we’re fighting this war together this time.” Smiling, Hound nodded. Never before getting sent across the universe did he think he’d be thankful for giant aliens.
—
To be fair, he tried to stay awake to talk, he really did. Even with Blue on comms it didn’t keep him awake. Disconnected and passed out on his cot, Sunstreaker was dead to the world.
The shuttle around them was lively and it shocked more than a few mecha when Bluestreak was quiet for a while, at least until the visor on Sunstreaker went dark. Blue seemed to deflate after a few minutes, though was content enough where he was at.
Sunstreaker had his arms around Bluestreak’s middle, head resting on his shoulder, and was clearly asleep now. Bluestreak was trapped, but the small smile on his face gave all the clues that anyone needed. Whistling and cat calls were not unheard of, along with a share of obscene gestures. Someone even made the comment of how lucky the Paraxian’s seemed to get with the “hot aft aliens”.
Honestly, Bluestreak wouldn’t disagree. Looking down at Sunstreaker, who’d settled like that to talk and even when he disconnected, kept talking with him. Listening contently, not wanting to overrun the conversation or cut his train of thought off. Maybe he was lucky. His comm line was still open, glad to be able to make sure Sunny was alright even while he slept. Okay, maybe that was a little creepy but he was so small compared to everything else around them. Just being able to see that he was okay was comforting enough.
Bluestreak blinked as someone waved their servos in front of his face, “Primus,” Ironhide smirked, “Not quiet kid, well, don’t you look all cozy.” And his faceplates burned, clearing his vocalizer, “Slightly, what do you want?” And Ironhide’s servo came up to cover his spark, “Yelling at your commanding officer! What would Prowl think?” Blue couldn’t help but roll his eyes, muttering, “What did he think about the commanders running the humans ragged.” Nodding, Ironhide vents deeply, “Yeah, you’re not wrong there.” Rubbing at his neck, Ironhide shakes his head, “Sunstreaker feeling okay?” Nodding, Blue looks down at Sunny with a soft smile, “Yeah, just recharging.”
Ironhide smiled a bit, “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d probably hear it from Prowl, again.” Bluestreak chuckled, “Yeah, I’m not surprised by that at all.” With a nod, Ironhide pats Bluestreak’s shoulder before heading back for the cockpit.
They’d have a flying stop in Iacon, a few days to re-supply before they were going back to their planet’s “tropical paradise”, as Sunny had called it. Elita and her unit would be setting up on the other coast, something about the system was attracting the Quints and they needed to figure it out.
Looking back down at Sunny, at the camera in his cockpit, Blue sighed. They needed to know what the Quintessons wanted, not just for the sake of Cybertron but for Earth. It was bad enough they were attacking a species that was well matched, to know that there were only so many suits and pilots on Earth to defend Sunny’s kind was killing him.
It was hard to know the person you, you might love; his spark spun funnily. Would be heartbroken if anything else were to happen to his planet, that he cared that much he’d be willing to die for it. Bluestreak had known the feeling once, back when Paraxus had been beautiful with its tall and shining spires. He almost felt that way for Cybertron, but nothing was quite like home. For Sunny, he could understand why it had shifted to Earth over the place called Florida, when you lost home it was easy to see the planet as home. Just for Blue, it was different.
He almost giggled when Sunstreaker started to snore, sitting back and putting his arm around Sunny’s back, closing his own eyes. The anxiety could wait till morning.
—
Iacon was beautiful, as always, and Hound was happy to be back. What he wasn’t happy about was the checkups that were scheduled in with a handful of the Prime’s medics. For him and Sunstreaker, it was hours before they escaped and the sun was starting to set already.
All Hound wanted to do was take a shower and be out of the suit for at least five minutes. Sunny was dragging his feet, Bluestreak having disappeared hours before and the poor guy was pouting. It was hard to hold his tongue, “How was your mission with Ironhide?” Sunstreaker looked up and started to walk more normally, “I got my visor shattered by Blue, I killed I think three quints, uh, swam in the ocean.” Nodding a bit, Hound smiles some, “Yeah, I heard about the visor, the new one looks good though.” Sunny hummed.
That was one of the things Hound could count on with Sunny, not having to make painful conversation, just quiet understanding. They walked together through the quickly darkening Iacon, plating scrubbed and scratched buffed, likely looking as nice as the suits had the day they came off of assembly.
Neither of them expected to be facing Prowl this late in the evening, let alone be facing down his disapproving glare, “Shit.” Their voices combined in a way that only happens when you spend too much time around each other.
“You would think I’d start to grow accustomed to that greeting.” His doorwings flicked, for what reason Hound didn’t know and he could guarantee Sunny had no clue, “Head inside, once you’re cleaned up Jazz wants to talk.” Hound barely spared Sunstreaker a glance, “I’ve been out of Iacon longer, I’m showering first.” He didn’t even want to think about what he and the cockpit of his suit smelled like. Almost gagging again.
—
Running a towel over his hair, Sunstreaker ducked past him just as the door for the bathroom opened. He barely sidestepped to let him past. Neither of them had expected Bluestreak in the apartment, but he and Prowl had left not long after they got their suits to clean. Though Hound will have to spend some time actually scrubbing at the floor of his suit, the assistance suit was currently soaking in their makeshift sink.
It was a relief, to feel clean again, though his hair was starting to get on the longer side. Certainly longer than it ever had been, at least since he was eighteen.
To be honest, he hadn’t noticed the state of Jazz’s own suit when he came in, too busy or maybe just too tired. Though he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the look on Jazz’s face, “Look,” Jazz held up a hand and Hound scowled, “Tell me what happened.” Sighing slowly, he kept a scowl on his face, “Fine, I experienced the crash after using my suit for almost forty-eight hours.” Jazz’s face dropped, without another look, Hound went to the kitchen. Jazz did not stop him.
It took him only a minute or two to get together something to eat and a cooling pack for his head. Disconnecting was getting harder with the jerk to his coding, he could remember how painful it had been before but at least this wasn’t as bad. Sighing, he went back into the living room, thankful the door to the bathroom was still shut and would be for a while yet.
Jazz stared, biting his lip, “What was it like?” Shrugging a bit, Hound sat and started to eat, keeping his head down to hold the cooling pack there. They didn’t have enough water reserved for showers and ice, “It was an artificial seizure effectively.” Each time he chewed, his head would pound and his implants would ache, “Did you not go through it before? Back when you first got here?” Slowly, Jazz shook his head, “No, no I didn’t.” He sighed and shifted back, tucking the cooling back into the collar of his shirt instead.
“Jazz, this was my second one. I didn’t know it until it happened again.” And Jazz went pale, staring at his own food before pushing it away, “How?” Shrugging, Hound can only shake his head, “My best guess is being hybrid-class.” He knew Jazz would sigh from relief, couldn’t help it, but it didn’t make his current state suck any less.
Jazz sat back, “What are you going to tell the others?” Closing his eyes, Hound sighed, “That I experienced the crash, end story. They don’t need to know,” “But they might.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Hound sighed, “Not now, not yet. Look, you didn’t crash. I was always going to be the most susceptible. They might not ever crash.” And the door behind them slid open as Prowl and Bluestreak returned. Both men shared a look before turning to the Cybertronian’s.
This would stay between them. Just one more secret to be kept from their allies. Another thing that could leave a crack in the foundation.
Prowl moves and sits on the couch, offering a hand to Jazz, who happily takes it and sits contentedly on Prowl’s shoulder like an odd parrot, his calculating gaze shifted to Hound, “I was told you crashed.” Tilting his head a bit, Hound shakes it just slightly, “I don’t think it’s like how you mean.” Prowl tried not to smile, “Then what’s your crash like?” Sighing, Hound looked down.
His head was pounding but the apartment in Iacon was cool and familiar, “When the crash hits, it’s the overloading of your implants with the main system. It’s the first and last time you’ll experience it because the system will adapt, overuse will ebb and you’ll be a stronger pilot for it.” “If you don’t die.” Jazz points at, pointing an accusatory finger at Hound, sighing he nods, “Yes, if you don’t die. If it doesn’t kill you. If you're able to handle it, it’s horrific, everything about it is horrible but once it’s done it’s at least done.” Another lie to go among the dozens.
Nodding slowly, Prowl sighed, “Alright, go ahead and get some rest Hound, you’ve earned it. You won’t ship back out until the lord protector returns to Iacon.” Bluestreak sighed and said something Hound didn’t understand. Prowl nodded and Hound frowned, “What did he say?” His helmet was still soaking for the time being, Prowl glanced over, “He asked if the prime and lord protector are fight, the answer is yes.” Nodding, Jazz snapped his fingers, “That’s why you called him Lord Protector instead of Megatron. Get all formal when they get mad?” Prowl looked like he wanted to roll his eyes to a painful extent, “Extremely.” Hound sighed deeply, “Great.” Looking down at his bowl, he stacked it on top of Jazz’s unfinished one before making his way to the bedroom.
All he wanted now was some halfway decent sleep, and to not think about the screaming match Megatron and Optimus Prime had had, and the implications of their argument.
—
They were supposed to be set up on opposite sides of the land mass, opposite coasts but the communication signal became strained not even five miles out and non-existent on the other side of the continent. Which made the point of the units splitting up useless.
So, now while Ironhide and Elita were setting up watches, the twins were avoiding each other and Bluestreak was nowhere to be found. Likely hiding from Sideswipe. Sighing, Sunstreaker sat down near the heater again, rubbing his face tiredly.
It was the middle of the night here and not exactly early back in Iacon either. Honestly, all he wanted to do was sleep, but not having others around while he slept had proven to all of them to be more dangerous than it was worth.
He wasn’t sure why he was avoiding Sideswipe, maybe because of Bluestreak who had wandered off for energon, now almost an hour ago. He knew his brother wouldn’t quiet understand, hell, he didn’t understand. It had all felt so normal, so natural.
There was no label there yet, of course, but when their unit was out they were together up till the moment Blue needed to set up and then Sunny was off to tear the Quints apart. It was all still so new and terrifying, he just liked being able to be the listening ear for Blue.
Sighing, his mech sinks a bit in the sand, curled up near a heater, by himself trying to keep his eyes open.
Sideswipe was sat around the heater with his unit, laughing and listening to Chromia tell yet another story about the war. It’s weird, these things wouldn’t have kept his attention back home, learning of their pointless history while the war waged around them but this. When the peace had been found and they all only were now working together because of it, it felt far more interesting. Glancing over, he frowned a bit at Sunny, sitting all by himself.
He wasn’t entirely sure what had changed so recently, that they were now sitting apart instead of together. Part of it he knew was Hound splitting them up, ‘for the greater good’ his ass, it was to keep them all alive. But that was the farthest he could understand it.
There had never been a time where he and Sunny were separated so often or for so long, not once.
He could see the cafeteria, the long tables with the round uncomfortable seats, watching Sonny sketch in a notebook. It was before their parents died, before that attack that took everything from them, how the light came through the windows high up on the wall. The school had been old when his grandparents were alive, let alone now after dozens of battles off the coast. Plastic tray in his hands, a few friends were laughing behind him, thankfully making their way towards his brother rather than away.
“Hey, Sideswipe, we lose you?” He blinks and looks up, frowning a bit before shaking his head, “Uh, no, sorry Skids. Was thinking.” With a hum, Skids looks back to Chromia, “I say we just invite the pair over, not like more bodies will make it any colder.” She nodded and smiled, standing and patting Sideswipe on the back. He smiled some, looking up at her, he’d only been with these people for around a month and knew they’d sooner lay down their lives for him then not; “Hey! Bluestreak, Sunstreaker! Come on over, join the better unit!” There of course was the typical uproar from those busying themselves out of Ironhide’s unit but the laughter from his brother almost made him smile.
Almost.
What wiped it away was Bluestreak, who had now almost killed his brother twice. The sooner Sunny saw that that particular alien wasn’t his friend, the better. When they came over, Sides had hold of Sunny and pulled him to sit between himself and Skids. Bluestreak had stared dumbly before sitting with Chromia.
“So, tell me Blue, how’s Ironhide’s unit treating you? Oh, and how the hell you broke Sunstreaker’s last visor. Sides here won’t shut up about it!” He suddenly remembered that Skids had a big mouth, his foot met Skids leg with a practiced ease he’d gained from doing to Sunstreaker over the years. The resounding clang and yelp brought him satisfaction.
Once Blue got talking though, Sideswipe couldn’t help but lean in and listen, even as Sunny fused and tried to get his attention. Something was going on, and he wanted to know what.
Sunny was thankful he only had to ping Blue to get him to shut up before spilling their secret, mumbling something about being tired and reminding Sideswipe he hadn’t slept in over a day. Of course, he didn’t darken his visor till his brother had.
It was going to be a long trip.
—
In the last month and a half, give or take, it has been nice to just deal with the local issues on the planet instead of jettisoning off to some other part of the system or a neighboring system.
The apartment was at a much more comfortable temperature than it had been in the last week or so with the thermostat on the fritz. The twins were apparently in some tropical paradise with their teams and Megatron’s unit had finally returned to Iacon, just as Optimus Prime had gone across the planet. Hound doubted it was a coincidence.
Currently, Breakdown, Jazz, and himself were sitting together. Trying to enjoy the quiet conversations they really only got to have when Sideswipe wasn’t around or when Sunstreaker didn’t have Bluestreak around.
Even though Jazz cared for Prowl’s brother (though Hound didn’t think that the translation was quite right) he could be a lot of mech to go around even a group of them. He was honestly surprised Sunstreaker was so moon-eyed over him, but was he any different? Any time he could go out in the suit, he found himself at the bar that played music from home with Mirage of all people, the pair of them content to sit and listen.
“Earth to Hound, come in Hound.” A hand was waving in front of his face and he pulled back from it, Jazz smirks and Breakdown chuckles, “Welcome back to the land of the living, what were you thinking about?” Jazz couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice and Hound sighed.
Before smirking and shifting his cooling pack, they were becoming a staple of his whenever home to avoid using up their limiting supplies, “The look on Knockout’s face the other day, when Breakdown asked if he wanted to join us in the market.” The grin on Jazz’s face was wicked even as poor Breakdown looked more confused than anything, “I was trying to be kind.” Chuckling, Jazz shakes his head, “Yeah, and flirting.” Hound snorts as Breakdown turns bright red, saying something neither of them understood which only made Jazz laugh harder.
To be fair, they wouldn’t be this giggly if the twins hadn’t perfected their still. So liquid courage was certainly a help in this.
“As if you are the one to talk Jazz! You and Prowl!” Breakdown frowns down at his cube, they were large but thankfully not full of gin. Or the closest that they could make to gin with their alien plants, “And I’ve never denied it! Just tried to keep the PDA on the down low, it’s a bit odd, dating a giant alien.” Jazz shrugged a bit even as Hound chuckled, setting aside his glass, this stuff was far too strong to be healthy. “What? I have, you all didn’t know for months.” Sighing, Breakdown shook his head, “Regardless, I was not flirting. Just trying to be kind.” Both Jazz and Hound hummed, unconvinced.
They lulled into silence for a bit, to watch the city, all thinking of their own relationships. Thinking of this place and how much things had changed in the last, six months, more? God, Hound wasn’t sure anymore. Frowning he looks down at his watch, now broken, just a habit to wear it still. Adjusting the cooling back to sit just under his implants, he sighs and closes his eyes. They all got lost in their own trains of thought, each trying to deal with their demons in their own way.
Jazz was the first to break his silence.
“You need to stop talking to them about the treatment we got from MECHA.” Jazz’s voice was quiet, the apartment was dark but the sky line of Iacon in the night showed through the window, “What? Why?” Hound glanced over, shifting the cooling pack on his neck, “There are things you don’t know about Cybertron, who they used to be, who they fought to not be.” There was something in Jazz’s eyes that made Hound want to ask a million questions but he stayed quiet, “Our recent history sounds like their darkest days.” Breakdown rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Our planet is living ours.” Sighing, Jazz nodded, “I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that they're eerily similar.” Both Hound and Breakdown slowly nodded.
Looking back out on Iacon, Hound felt his throat tighten, “I’m not going to lie,” “No, you shouldn’t, but stop bringing light to the torture we faced.” He winced and closed his eyes.
How could being the only one compatible in his family be torture? How could wanting the freedom for their planet be torture? How could becoming the best part of his life be torture?
“And don’t listen to the voice they put in your head during testing.” Jazz’s voice was lower, he was staring at Iacon with such intensity, “It will ask you how it could be torture, to be a hero, choosing to forget every moment of horror we face.” His fingers brushed lightly over his implants, eyes watering.
Nodding slowly, Hound took a slow breath, “We were soldiers Jazz, our bodies haven’t been our property since we were eighteen.” He shifted and rested a hand on Hound’s shoulder, squeezing, “I know, but it’s time to take it back.” Jazz chuckled, “None of them can get to us here, we’re still fighting for our planet, but on our terms.” His gaze turned to Breakdown’s, “No one’s going to die, not of our crew, not on our watch.” Breakdown nodded firmly, eyes watering too, “We have to learn to live again.” Jazz looks between them.
They sat there, quietly for a moment, “We were tortured for the sake of it, weren’t we?” Hound’s voice wavered, tears forming, “I think so. Discovery or not, it doesn’t change that we’ve been owned, used, and abused.” He nodded slowly, even as the tears fell down his face, gasping once before covering it with his hands. Carefully, Jazz rubbed Hound’s back as the man cried.
He could love his life, love being a pilot, be proud of it even and still know, finally know, that how they did it was wrong. No wonder the Cybertronian’s stared at them every time they mentioned the work back home, every time they threw themselves on the live grenade, it wasn’t expected or needed of them here. They didn’t have to be the sacrifice for “the greater good”. The guinea pigs for the never ending, churning machine that was this war from hell.
Taking a slow and deep breath, Hound wiped his eyes and stared back at Iacon.
It was a beautiful city, how the cities of his memory looked, before they were destroyed. Before every beautiful thing in their world had become nothing more than a resource. How everything had become expendable beside the suit.
“Dozens of pilots tried to pilot Vortex before Aid came along, and they just kept sending them to die, for data.” Jazz nodded slowly as Breakdown hung his head, “They sent us to die, for data.” Sighing slowly, Jazz laid a careful arm around Breakdown, “We’re more than just a resource here.” He smiles a bit, “Joan had to remind me a million times my first year here, that freedom is the right of all sentient beings and what we endured. That was not freedom.” What it wasn’t didn’t need to be said, it was so plain as day.
Hound hung his head in shame, the pilots lived and breathed the propaganda. Unwilling, no, unable to open their eyes with Shockwave digging through their coding every—
“It’s been six months.” It hit him and Breakdown at the same time. The same instant, “Actually, closer to nine now, but yeah. It’s funny how it’s easier to see when they aren’t digging through your brain every six months or so.” Jazz stood and went to the window, leaning against it to stare at the soldiers in front of him, leaving his glass almost empty, “So, what are you going to do with your freedom?” Hound and Breakdown shared a glance, looked to Jazz, then to Iacon before back at each other and grinning.
Standing, Hound offers Breakdown a hand and helps him up, the poor man stumbled slightly, having had more to drink than either Jazz or himself, “Jazz, we’re going to fight to live.” His smile was contagious and bright, “I was hoping you’d say that.” Jazz’s voice was light, lighter than it had been when they decided to drink that evening.
Fighting to live gave them more time, fighting for Cybertron gave them people they could trust. The more of both they had, the less likely it was that they’d die as soon as they stepped foot on Quintessa.
———
A/N
HOLY FUCK 5k words, that is more than I thought it was going to be but I almost posted the chapter without the intro which would have made me very sad to forget.
So, there is a tiny time skip in this chapter as we saw, but next chapter I will be going over the events leading up to the chapter after, which takes place several months from now.
Honestly, I am kinda sad that I’ll be time skipping but it’s time, it has been a minute and I need to progress the story.
Is my plan set in stone? No, I think I have proved that with literally finishing the chapter and putting it up right after. But, do I know where I want it to go? Vaguely. Uh, I think..
Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I know the twins part towards the end is rough but I have the hardest time with Sideswipe out of anyone.. I kinda know why but yeah, I need to do a him focused chapter soon.
Also blame the delay on the fact my mind has been eating itself, I got into an audiobook the other day and now am listening to the 9 book series. I have made a grave mistake.
TAGS
Thank you @keferon for this amazing AU, I would not have written god knows how many words of this fic without you.
@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodles @ratatatata248 @ijustneedausernaneplease4444444 @sprook-children @fooolisher
#transformers#maccadam#the arcturus missions#tf mecha universe#tf mecha au#mecha pilot jazz au#mech pilot jazz au#Hound#breakdown#sunstreaker#sideswipe#mirage#bluestreak#prowl#knockout
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I love playing IPS-N pilots bc it’s the funniest thing ever to be entirely unimpressed with space magic.
“Yes yes, your gun shouldn’t exist and you sent that guy to the Duat or whatever and you think you had to jump timelines to dodge that shot, it’s all very cool and I love that for you. However, I shot that other guy with two large tungsten spikes from my nailgun then hit him with this sword and he’s exactly as dead.”
Shit man, this mech war is fucked. I just saw a doll shoulder its rifle and say "reality warp: black hole star" or some similar shit, and every mech around it cratered, radiated a ring of pure energy, and disappeared. The camera didn't even go onto it, that's how common shit like this is. My ass is firing anti-personnel rounds and buckshot. I think I just heard "nanomachines: skewer" two groups over. I gotta get the fuck outta here.
#mechposting#ttrpg#battletech#mechwarrior#3151posting#tabletop gaming#lancer mech#lancer#lancer rpg#lancerposting#I love to play boring guys who are like#slightly taken aback by the party HORUS combat doll#not like disgusted#just mildly confused and concerned if anything#need to play Corbin again soon
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new ayane ichijo just dropped
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Big Feet Lady
#artists on tumblr#illustration#my art#art stuff#artwork#scifi#mech#mecha#robot#robot art#feuerinsoho
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A custom Empakaai 🦀 for one of my Patrons!
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[Image description: tags that read “not mine, text, mx anthropy, this is supposed to be like, in character. did I do good job <- prev tags, I thought that this an actual post about, like, your irl job, "But 'mech' is literally the ninth word", I just assumed that was meant as mechanic's repair shop, In summary, Yeah, Good job”. End description.]
I saw a few people saying don't trust mech repair shops that are clean, and that you gotta go to the ones that are dirty and have crap everywhere 'cause they'll do a proper job and fix your rig cheaper and better.
While I agree in general, it's an even better sign if that shop has that *one* bay and workbench area that is conspicuously clean. Every good workshop has *that bay*.
That's the bay for when they need to go cleanroom on something. Pulling and refurbishing laser arrays, injection pumps, etc. Manually recalibrating gyros. Re-valving joint dampers. Fabbing up "custom" bracketry to fit that aftermarket heat exchanger that's *supposed* to be a direct bolt on OE style replacement and you just *know* it's not going to be that simple cause it never is, but the efficiency is so much better than the factory crap and who the hell wants to pay for a new genuine exchanger anyway, if you can even get one?
The number of absolute cowboy techs I've seen that think that just because they've done a bunch of work on their pa's agricultural mechs for years, they know everything there is to know about mech internals, strip down and reassemble a combat-rated set of hand actuators literally just on the god damned shop floor, only to wonder why all the hydraulics piss fluid out as soon as they run it through a test cycle. They might *look* the same as pappy's mech actuators, but they have way tighter tolerances and they run *way* thinner fluids in them. You get so much as a nick in the sealing surface of one of those rods and it's not gonna seal again. And before any goobers come for me saying "JuSt RuN tHiCkEr OiL" if you put anything thicker than 2W-5 in those things they'll just lock up. Won't leak but you'll not be using that hand for anything but karate chopping your opposition.
Anyway rant over, TLDR next time your stompy death machine needs actual proper work done, and not just entire unit assemblies throwm at the problem, take it somewhere that actually cares to understand the concept of machined tolerances.
#op please add the description to the original post#in plain text and not under a read more#described#mechs#mechanics
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It's Wednesday and that means it's wireframe day! Have a view of the lowpoly Hatsune Mechu 🤖
#lowpoly#low poly#wireframe#WireframeWednesday#hatsune miku#mecha#robot#miku#Miku#Mech#3d art#b3d#blender#blender3d#3d artwork
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A scene from lancer featuring some nice cooking, and the other PCs (yes they exist!) and the pink haired villain? Dr. Tanaceto This was a really challenging piece! I gotta practice my top down shots more Besides Fae I guess no one knows that much about the Lancer characters, so for some quick context: Errol (bottom left) is our Balor pilot. A man with a colourful past he was brought to Hercynia as a potential test subject by Olympus, a shadowy organization who are doing weird biotech stuff. (Like making Fae sick. By mistake((Fae's mistake))) His Balor was stolen from them, crazy nanomachine nightmare that it is. Evelyn (top right) is our local hero - she's piloted a few different mech's, including the little samurai atlas, and currently an oni themed black-beard variant. Eve's a pirate hunter and merc, who got hired by the Landmark colony on Hercynia to keep it safe. Director Tanaceto (top left) is not a PC, a specialist doctor who we thought was brought in remotely to help treat Fae, she turned out to also be a member of Olympus, and actually be on planet. She was invited to this little get together, because, obviously that's what you do with shadowy antagonists. (Mostly Errol's idea as a kind of gotcha once he learned she was on world). Fae likes Tana, and she did legitimately save her life, so its a complicated situation!
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