#sixaid

[lave-ium]

its sentinel summer (its september💀)

also more doodles below raaahhh

gay

[shieldthyeyes]

so lately ive been into sixaid thanks to @oilwrench and the awesome fix and these have been gathering dust, might as well post before I draw more -sweats-

[eabevella]

Sixaid 4b.

What??!!!

[lave-ium]

doodle dumped on ig so why not do it here🤯 first is colored doodles

and finally the black and white doodles

[lave-ium]

happy new years eve!!! *FORCES YOU TO ENGAGE IN MY FAVORITEST CRACKSHIP EVER*

aaaanyways, these r my sixshot + first aid holoform designs!!! ive been wanting to show em off since i made em but havent had the chance to draw them good EHHEHEH. also extra doodles below related to sixaid cuz. yes. 👹

[lave-ium]

RAREPAIR WEEK DAY 5: DANCING!!

i have been waiting to share this FOREVERRR GAAHHH anyways i love sixaid EEEEE

[lave-ium]

TF RAREPAIR WEEK DAY 8: CRISP FALL AIR!!

i never draw backgrounds so this was super uncomfortable to draw at first, but it actually ended up being really fun so yay cool

[oilwrench]

First aid suggested that sixshot get out and do something since he is going a bit stir crazy from the whole "no longer at war" thing. So when a distress call reaches them, Sixshot, at first aid's prompting, opts to help out. The mechs are surprised to see the phase sixer, even more so when a medic comes with him, but they welcome the help. When the terrorcons show up demanding to know why First aid is corrupting Sixshot, a huge argument breaks out. And the mechs are baffled when Sixshot just makes a noise like a deflating balloon and walks away.

[oilwrench]

Sixshot sits on the floor in wolf mode. His head is resting on first aid's lap as the medic lazily scratches sixshot's wolf ears. Anytime First aid stops sixshot makes a growling but not quite, noise. When First aid hits that one spot, sixshot can't stop his hind leg from making scratching motions. If he falls asleep he knows the medic will tie little bows on him. It's the same for the terrorcons, but they are not large enough to pin him in place to they don't get as many.

[oilwrench]

The terrorcons take a while to warm up to First aid. Blot loves him. Eventually they all get along. First aid also knows they are where Sixshot is getting all his relationship advise and trys to not get to mad at them when they give him really bad ideas.

[oilwrench]

First aid likes cuddles. Sixshot took awhile to get used to having a mech cling to him in recharge. First aid also steals the blanket and forms an impenetrable cocoon around himself if Sixshot doesn't let him curl up against him.

[oilwrench]

Oh goodness someone asked me about SixAid and now i can't stop thinking about them. Sixshot loves it when First aid cleans him. He will purposely get dirty just so First aid will wash him. He loves the feel of the little hands pressing on his joints just hard enough to clear the dirt, and the cloth going in little circles on his plateing. First aid knows very well Sixshot loves it and purposely pampers him even more.

[eabevella]

rothinsel wrote this: “Who’s my alpha predator? Who? You are! Yes you are! Brooding wolf pup, yes you are, yes~*scritches chin~*”

oilwrench said: Sixshot falls asleep from the good scratches and wakes up covered in little bandage bows.

I think the bow is a little big XD

[eabevella]

Dear SixAid Anon:

Do you know that there’s a thing called “butter dog”?

It involves putting butter on a girl’s pussy and let a dog to lick them.

Now I can’t stop the voice whispering “Sixshot the butter dog” in my head.

[eabevella]

Sixshot and First Aid are starting to get intimate. How long till they're comfortable with the more kinky stuff? :P

Probably a long time, with some unexpected scenario involving the Terrorcons:

Cutthroat: I bet you Autobot medics are good with hands, eh? *jazz claws*

First Aid: Wha--

Rippersnapper: Ehehehe you look like the rope type. Am I right?

First Aid: Wait. How--

Hun-Grrr: Aha! I told you so! You all owe me energon cubes! *puts hands on FA’s shoulder* Tell me the details. All the kinky stuffs. We demand to know. Sixshot is our boss, and good Decepticons look for their boss. 

After knowing that there’s no “kinky stuffs” between First Aid and Sixshot, the Terrorcons suggest First Aid should just ask. Because you know, Sixshot is a phasesixer, he’s seen a lot, he won’t be scare off by mere suggestion. If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.

(I really should make a way to fit SixAid+Terrorcon nonsense into canon story)

[oilwrench]

thing I wrote while waiting for the tow truck

The mech was small. Not even reaching his chest.  The dulled red and white paint chipped and pitted with scars and the blue optics held such tiredness. Still the slaver had him turn in place. The small action making the obviously depleted mech shiver from exertion.  Some of the crowd backed off. What good was a medic if it was so starved one would have to repair him before he could be useful.  Still, bids were being shouted in the hall lined with cells. These were the captured mechs that had worth. Technicians and engineer’s and one lone medic. Warriors were killed. Officer’s tourtured. But these mech would be sold to the highest bidder.  

Pressing off from the wall where he lurked, Sixshot shouted his offer, serval thousands over the previous one. The slaver paused as the amassed mechs took a collective step away from the large phase sixer. The other decepticons who had bid looking at one another then back to the medic. They were rare. The autobots didn’t take kindly to having theirs messed with and the deceptions didn’t attract that many of the caregiver function set.

Still the other mechs bowed out. Rare but not worth angering a phase sixer over.

The slaver shouted sold and his assistant handed Sixshot a data chip before the crowd moved to the next cell.

The chip felt small in his hand, true it had been made for a standard sized mech, which he wasn’t.  Grasping it between his thumb and forefinger he walked away from the crowd who was getting loud over an engineer.  The phase sixer barely cleared the barred exit, not that it would be difficult for him to get through. On instinct he had already contemplated several ways to kill everyone. Updating his plan as mechs came and went.

The office was just past the gate, two well armed guards watched as he set the chip on the counter and the thin mech behind it fed it in to his teminal.

‘Payment due’

He transferred the funds to the account that came up and waited as a thin collar was programed and his new medic, still shaking, stood next to a guard. The old, thick collar was removed and the new one with his info placed around the former Autobot’s neck.

'That’s it?’

It was so simple, almost disturbingly so.

'That’s it, sir, he is ready to go.’

Sixshot nodded and gestured for his new medic to follow.

The stumbling gate of the smaller echoed behind him. The slow, heavy ventilation that cut in and out then the rattle of strained gears.

He stopped at the slavers entry gate, checking the trams timetable then turned to the miserable mech standing only by sheer will in the proper slave spot, two steps behind and one to the right of him.

'What is your destination? ’

'You haven’t given me one yet, sir.’

The small thing had progressed from trembling to full on tremors,  pale blue visor fading closer to white as he clung to himself. Almost like he was trying to hold his wretched form together. The voice had been soft, and not surprisingly, strained.

'Your previous designation then.’

He didn’t keep much energon on him, but if he wanted to get to his ship he would have to do something about the sorry state his medic was in.

'First aid, sir.’

He noted how First aid listed to the side and Sixshot pulled his emergency ration from his subspace.

'I’m Sixshot,  not sir or master.  Drink only a mouthful.’

The mask snapped back instantly,  showing the cracked and split lips. Old energon clung to poorly healed damage that bespoke of beatings as fist to face left telling marks. Obediently the slave took only a mouthful from the cube before handing it back. Watching mournfully as it vanished back into his subspace.

A deep, bass hummed and Sixshot turned back to the entrance.  waiting for the hiss as the tram stopped and the doors opened. Stepping into the car and paying the automated system for himself and a slave then ensured his new possession followed him to his seat.  First aid sat on the floor next to him, optics cast downward with his hands on his knees. Again,  perfect proper slave behavior.

The tram beeped then the sense of motion registered as it took off. One by one the other mechs in the car got up and left for a different car or departed at the next stop. The slave pushing the snack trolley stuttered when he signaled for him to stop. The blue mech had engineers tags and was owned by the tram company.  The phase sizer never notice that before.   He purchased a tin of rust sticks for Blot and a small assortment of hardened energon.  The mech fleeing the car as soon as his payment cleared.  

'First aid, here.’

The medic hadn’t moved in a while and his visor was much dimmer then before. With a grunt the large mech nudged the mech with his foot.

The small medic came online with a start.  looking around frantically before returning to the proper slave position.

'Sir..Sixshot,  I apologize. I…’

The red and white flinched so hard he came out of the slave position and Sixshot didn’t move from when he had offered the box, watching as the slave forced himself back in to the kneeled subservient pose. Venting ragged as his entire form rattled from the force of his tremors. The blue visor was locked on the floor the mech braceing against Primus only knew what.

'Here, take them.’

He tapped the flimsy box against First aid’s shoulder,  making the mech look up from the floor and take the package from him. Setting it on his knees and resting his hands on top.

'The’re for you to eat, not to keep warm. You’re depleted. They’re the only thing on the cart that wouldn’t turn your tanks.’

He leaned back and looked out the trams window.  The tall spires of the business district receding to low wear houses. The sound of the protective film being removed from the box the only sound past the bass hum from the tram itself.

’ You will prepare the medic station for surgery when we get to the ship. Send me an inventory request so I can stock it correctly.  I’m going to assume the slavers cleaned out your inventory. ’

The medic nodded then opened his mask again to place a plain energon treat between is lips. The mask snapped shut but Sixshot could see the mechs neck cables move as he sucked on the candy.

The tram hissed as it came to a stop and the large mech stood then exited the tram. First aid stood dutifully behind and to the side of him when the large silver tram took off with its signature rumble. The small mech clutching the box of treats to his chest.

The tremors had subsided back to mere trembles and Sixshot rubbed the side of his mask. His ship was a fair walk away and the odds of the medic making it were very slim. Still, he took off from the tram station minding his stride so not to leave his slave scrambling to keep up.

The dock workers cast fearful glances at him as he strode past the space vessels in dry dock. His ship was the last one on the space repair shipyard.  The damage from his last assignment required him to find a suitable repair station, Nebulous 5 was the best he could get to before the power fluxes grounded him.

Still, it was better then being stranded and having to rely on one of his alt modes to make it back.

An alert sounded and he whirled around, gun in hand just in time to see his slave crumble in the gangway. Folding up to lay unmoving with the box of hard energon treats crushed under him.

A few of the workers stopped to take a look but scurried away once they saw him approach. With a sigh he scooped up First aid slightly impressed he had made it as far as he had.