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quibble-auk · 1 month ago

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@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Yeah. You see I had already written half of this when you posted your other thing. I’m telling you the worms were communicating, they are in sync.

But I finished it anyway. It has some random ideas and stuff I’ve also had for the redemption au. Just some thoughts.

This is just a bunch of internal monologue I apologize.

—

Sunrazor carefully watched the shivering form of Cometeater, the feeble creature she had been partnered with. They were far up north on some recon mission—Sunrazor didn’t really care, it was a mission that Jazz had sent Comet out on but she had been forced to follow along for—and the freezing temperatures seemed to be getting at the small green form. The coat and layer of downy fluff did little against the unforgiving temperature around them.

It was the coldest part of the year and they had still sent the organic to one of the most frigid regions of their planet. It was cold enough that frost would settle on plating, the stark difference between their body heat and the frozen world around them would cause the condensation that formed to freeze. Smaller mechs that had small sparks would need to be cautious of having their frames get locked in a cold induced stasis when nightfall came.

The golden mech wouldn’t need to worry about such trivial things. Her spark was strong and resilient enough to power all of her systems, to keep her large frame in motion with little difficulty. She had always run hot anyway, when stuck in the searing heat of the day during a battle she would need to watch her internal temperatures.

They had told her it was because of the augmentations, that it was to be expected and was a sign that everything was doing what it should. Her spark had to send more energy throughout her body and it caused there to be more heat.

When Ratchet finally got a look at it he had grumbled and informed her it was from stress—it wasn’t good and it was going to cause long term issues. Which was stupid. She ran just fine.

She never listened to Ratchet, anyway.

Sunrazor didn’t mind the way the cold, dry air clung to her. It was nice, she could shut off her fans for once and let the air cool her body down.

But Cometeater was an organic who couldn’t regulate his body temperature the same way Cybertronians could. A faulty design in her opinion. Something weak and pathetic, evolution had been cruel to allow such a fault to form. A Cybertronian’s body would shut down and fall into stasis when it got too cold, and when it warmed up enough they would wake back up.

The organic would simply die.

It was hard to believe that such a weak being had been able to avoid her for so long, that she had struggled to hunt him down and capture him. How she had not bested him was beyond her. Comet had somehow done it though, despite his small frame and pathetic design, he had survived. He had managed to escape her merciless grasp and even managed to damage her on several occasions—more often than she would admit.

Sunrazor narrowed her eyes at the rigid form that lay across from her. It was obvious that he wasn’t sleeping, but he was trying to appear like he was. His body shook with each small gust of wind that managed to sweep into the temporary shelter they had found. The wind whistled and echoed through the ruins of a city where they were currently positioned, the dark air of the night was quickly becoming colder and colder.

She huffed, hot air puffing from her mouth and vents as she shifted to lay on her side. She faced Comet directly now, red eyes flicking between his trembling frame and the shadows around them. The golden mech let her mind wander as she scanned the terrain for any threats.

She had been hunting Cometeater for so long, most of the war, but then he had offered to let her join him with the Autobots. Sunrazor didn’t know why she considered it, nor why she accepted the offer in the first place.

The golden mech had never been particularly attached to either cause, she fought for the Decepticons because it was what she was told to do. Because They made her. Perhaps that was why, either way she got to do what she was good at—destroying and killing—but the Autobots had promised that she didn’t need any more “fixes.” They weren’t with the Autobots.

At first, the only downside had been how strict they were with her behavior, and that they made her follow the small pest around.

Nothing ever stayed that simple though, not when the Autobot high command knew how little control they had over her. They were desperate to keep her from going back to the Decepticons, but they wanted to comply with their ideals. When she had been injured badly enough in an airstrike, Ratchet had finally been given the chance to look more closely at her programming and design. When the high command found out about her semi-active slave codes Prowl had been quick to push for reactivating them and adjusting the list of masters.

Now she had to follow what they said. She had only traded one set of masters for a new one.

Sunrazor growled at the thought, her gaze wandering from a particularly dark corner of the ruins back to Comet. Her jaw tightened, expression twitching as she fought the urge to snarl. She should have known better than to trust the word of someone just as monstrous as she was.

The thought made her pause.

Cometeater was a monster, there was no doubt about it. The creature was a spark eater, a predator by nature—just like she was. But he was small and weak, much more fragile than she ever could be. And then there were the twins, the people who Comet cared for more than anything. They were his brothers not by blood, but something else. Something deeper and stronger.

That was something a monster couldn’t have.

Yet, Cometeater had offered her a place with the Autobots. He would crawl up her frame like a feral turbo fox and perch on her shoulder despite her sharp words accusing him of being nothing but a parasite and pathetic worm. The naive mech would sit and tell her about worlds full of green and life, the world that he had come from. Comet had even saved her own hide more than once—though she would never admit it.

Another powerful gust of wind swept through the gaping holes in their structure and Cometeater’s form shook. Sunrazor’s plating pressed into herself to preserve heat and keep it from getting swept away with the breeze. She let herself shift ever so slightly, adjusting her place on the ground as she quickly let her scanners run over Comet. They weren’t built like a medics, but she could use her heat sensors to effectively conclude that Comet was no longer able to stabilize his own body heat.

The green mech would freeze by the time morning finally came.

Sunrazor let out a disgruntled huff, brows furrowing as she processed the knowledge. She didn’t care if he lived or died. He was just another Autobot, he had gotten her into this mess. But she also knew that if he was gone she would be forced to follow one of the mechs from high command around—then it would be the Decepticons all over.

And maybe… just maybe she wanted to hear more about the green world of his youth. Sunrazor felt her engine stall for a moment and she quickly buried the thought.

She could not care, she was built to destroy.

Weapons like her didn’t get to choose, they didn’t get to get attached. Her clawed hands were not built to hold someone gently, her large frame was not designed to cradle something small.

Sunrazor reached for Cometeater anyway.

She easily scooped up his small tremoring frame as though it was nothing—really, it wasn’t, he was always far too thin. The creature’s let out a small, weak, and startled chirp, eyes flying open and limbs scrambling for a moment. Comet looked at her, eyes wide as he fell still in her grasp. Sunrazor didn’t bother to try and read his expression, instead she only grumbled, “You're of no use to me if you freeze, slim.”

The golden mech growled as she pulled him to rest against her chest. She still lay on her side, she curled a leg up to effectively wrap herself around the quivering form more, just to shield him from the elements as much as possible.

Her voice remained low and detached as Sunrazor went back to looking around for threats, “Don’t try and convince yourself this is anything more than me acting out of necessity. Having a superior die while I was on watch would be a failure on my part.”

She didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself or Comet more, but she didn’t care. Sunrazor let the playing around her chest loosen and flare so the heat she had retained could wash over the other. The large mech could feel the smaller burrow closer to the warmth, pressing greedily against it.

The act sparked something deep inside her as her gaze moved across their environment, her scanners activated and relaying information back to her. It was small, almost nonexistent, but the fragment of code still flickered for just a moment beneath the weight of her oppressive programming. It was achingly familiar, her hands twitched as she fought the urge to clamp them into fists—that would surely crush Comet.

It was quickly ripped away from her though, aggressive codes shunning it before it got to take hold. But it echoed deep in her spark.

I protect.

#transformers #transformer oc #concepts #oc writing #sunrazor #comet eater #comet is not mine!#redemption au #angst?#kinda #the worms are too synchronized #it’s wild #hopefully this was good #I kinda gave it up when I read your thing #anyway enjoy #other people are mentioned #just thinking thoughts

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quibble-auk · 2 months ago

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@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Yeah so my pen is officially broken and guess who forgot how much they hated drawing transformers on paper.

Me. I did. I hate it. Ugh.

Enjoy a half done Sunrazor because we were talking about her and I need to make an accurate reference picture for her that I’m happy with.

I’m finally drawing the bush-guard that I’ve mentally given her instead of doing the sad half attempt I’ve done in the past. Please ignore the smudging.

Here’s just the bush-guard though. For future reference.

Anyway I gave up. Maybe I’ll come back to this and actually finish it. I have no idea.

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quibble-auk · 15 days ago

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Whoops. I slipped. More Redemption au stuff.

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Yeah. I was going somewhere and I kinda lost it. It doesn’t really have a “real” ending tbh. I just gave up. I tried to explain some things with this but idk if it kinda bogs down the pacing or feels too much like a ramble.

Eh well, this exists. I debated not posting it because i don’t feel like Comet has a very strong character voice in it (if that makes sense) but here I am anyways.

I didn’t proofread so i apologize for any grammatical errors lol.

—

Cometeater hated not knowing. He wasn’t sure if it was just a part of his nature to try and understand something, to get answers, but not knowing has always caused discomfort and impatience to swell deep within him. It made his skin crawl and his flesh itch, it grated against his bones, the very essence of his being.

He hated not understanding.

Both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had told him that he was overreacting, he had no reason to concern himself with the wellbeing of Sunrazor. She was stable and in the care of Ratchet, the best medic that Comet knew. The twins insisted that he take the time to enjoy not having the giant mech shadow him, take advantage of not having to babysit the ex-Decepticon.

They hadn’t been there, that’s what Comet told himself, if they had been there they would understand. They would be just as concerned as he was—he knew it was unlikely, they still despised Sunrazor—they would sympathize with him had they seen what had happened.

Sunrazor had been falling apart, in every sense of the word, and Comet had no way of helping. He was forced to watch, wait, and listen as her own frame fought itself. He had seen, arguably, one of the strongest mechs he had ever met be brought to her knees and writhe in phantom pain. It had been horrifying, watching someone he had come to consider a trusted ally crumble like that.

Cometeater would be content to never witness something like that ever again.

He was hoping that Ratchet would be able to take one look at her and wave off his concern, that the old medic would be able to tell him what went wrong the moment he saw her. But he hadn’t, instead of providing comforting words that assured Comet that he knew how to handle this Ratchet had gone quiet. Cometeater didn’t get to linger much longer, his own burns needed to be tending to.

Three days had passed since then and Comet was not provided with any answers.

Ratchet had stabilized her and repaired most of the heat damage—it had been excessive, the medic had expressed to him that she was lucky to have made it—but claimed that he would need time to sort out what caused the meltdown. More diagnostics would need to be run before he could offer a coherent explanation.

The current theory was that she had been exposed to a foreign code, it either started attacking her processor or triggered something that had been planted. What Comet had witnessed was her system was attempting to purge itself. Her frames last resort, broken defences turning in on themselves to destroy any trace of the assaulting code—regardless of what got caught in the crossfire and the damage it may cause.

It was dangerous but efficient. Whatever had attacked her systems should have been destroyed within minutes. But it hadn’t been. The code had either integrated so her systems weren't able to distinguish what was hers or she was unable to call off her own purging protocols, possibly both. A reasonable explanation, however it only prompted more questions.

The most apparent was being how she had gotten such a powerful hostile code into her system in the middle of battle.

The medic had explained that there were already firewalls and defenses that protected a mech’s coding. It took a supercomputer, an expert in shadowplay, or quite a bit of time for corruption codes to breach the defenses and warrant a system purge. Let alone be integrated enough that she wouldn’t be able to clear her systems quickly.

Cometeater huffed, claws tapping impatiently at the small bedside table. The twins were on shift, leaving the youngest brother to his own devices for the time being. He blinked, looking over the still frame of Sunrazor. He had decided to spend his time watching over her, waiting for her to wake up.

It wasn’t like he could do much else at the moment anyways. His own injuries were still fresh, though improving quickly. Ratchet said that he would be fully recovered within a week, perks of having fast regeneration.

Sunrazor should be no different. She should be able to resume her work within a week, though she would need to take it easier than usual. Lighter missions that wouldn’t strain her new welds or fracture healing supports. Of course, that was assuming there was no excessive damage done to her systems, that the foreign codes had been successfully disposed of.

Ratchet would conduct a diagnostic when she woke up. The threat wasn’t critical anymore, the medic could put her into stasis if the code was still causing problems and then he would start looking around her processor. Until then he would wait until he got some level of permission.

Mechs didn’t like their programming being poked at without their knowing, Sunrazor had made her own disdain of that very clear.

He leaned back in the chair Ratchet had begrudgingly brought in after catching him standing over her berth for hours on end. It creaked under his weight, frame too tense to find any real comfort in the seat. His optics flicked toward the monitors again, checking for any signs of change. Her vitals were steady, processor activity unusually high but steady—Ratchet told him it was a good thing, a sign her programs were attempting to heal themselves.

He glanced back at her frame. She looked... smaller now. Not physically—Sunrazor was still a towering mass of thick armor and golden plating—but vulnerable in a way that clashed violently with almost every memory he had of her.

She’d always seemed like the kind of mech who could keep going through anything, no, she did keep going, to the point where it was almost irritating. But now she was still, and quiet, not in the same way she got when keeping watch during a mission, but something far more unnerving.

A flicker from the monitor snapped his attention back. A small spike in processor activity. Not massive, not enough to trigger any alarms, but enough to register as something.

“Come on…” he breathed, leaning forward.

Another spike. Her hand twitched.

It wasn’t much—but it was something. His claws wrapped around the edge of the berth, eyes fixed on her helm, waiting for movement, for sound, for anything. She shifted again—her vents hissing open just slightly, a shallow intake that whined with resistance. Her optics didn’t light, not yet, but the twitching was rhythmic now. Intentional.

She was waking up.

And Cometeater’s heart slammed against his chest as a flood of relief, dread, and a thousand unanswered questions crashed over him all at once.

“Sunrazor,” he said, quietly at first. Then louder. “Hey. It’s Comet. You’re safe.”

At first there was no response, to sign that she had heard him, then her optics flickered to life. Comet almost smiled, preparing himself to be faced with her familiar scarlet eyes—his expression immediately fell as her optics flashed for a moment, jumping between blue and red. Panic surged through the small green mech, his breath hitching.

It was happening again.

“No, no, wait—” Comet struggled to form the words, swallowing dryly as he watched with growing horror.

Her eyes strobed for a moment longer before they settled on an unnatural, haunting white. She blinked a few times, her gaze becoming less distant, more focused and aware. For a brief moment she eyed the ceiling above, her eyes narrowing slightly before her attention landed on Comet.

The pretender’s expression was blank, at least he assumed it was. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling at the moment, the unnerving white eyes boring into him. It wasn’t natural, it wasn’t Sunrazor, at least he didn’t think so. Her eyes were meant to be red, not a stark, uncomfortable white. He held his breath, waiting for her to move.

For a moment she eyed him, emotions flicking through her optics that Comet wasn’t able to read, then she looked blankly back at the ceiling. She remained still, only occasionally flexing her clawed fingers against the berth. Her expression was empty for the most part, her lips pressed thin and jaw tightly clenched, the uncanny white eyes narrowing with concentration.

Comet hesitated, voice timid and almost fearful, “Sunrazor?”

She didn’t respond immediately, her face tightened, pressed lips turning into a small frown as her brows furrowed. Comet was about to repeat himself when he heard her vocalizer whir and click. A second later she finally spoke—it was her voice, not broken and fraying like before—her tone flat, “I think it’s all mine.”

Cometeater didn’t breathe. He couldn’t.

Sunrazor didn’t look at him when she said it—just stared ahead, eyes narrowed like she was still searching for something in the overhead lighting. Something hidden in plain sight. Her claws tapped a slow, uncertain rhythm against the berth’s edge, as if testing for a sound only she could hear.

“What… does that mean?” Comet asked carefully. He kept his voice level, despite the way his spark churned beneath his chestplate. She was quiet for a moment, leaving Cometeater to try and dissect what she could have meant. The memory of her collapse played through his head as he tried to understand what she was saying.

He blinked, frame tensing as he recalled what little she had said during the episode. Most of it was incoherent, missing crucial context, but Comet had more of an understanding now.

“I don’t know what’s mine.”

At the time she had sounded lost, confused, and frustrated. It made little sense to Comet then, but he knew more now. She had most likely been stuck scouring her codes for something out of place, that wasn’t hers. Her systems were confused and attacking herself.

But stating that it was hers didn’t make any sense. A purge wouldn’t be activated unless there was something hostile there. Comet tilted his head, speaking a bit louder this time, “What’s yours?”

Sunrazor still didn’t look at him. She blinked, humming softly to herself. After several seconds things seemed to click, she was able to process what he had asked and she grimaced. Sunrazor growled, frame tensing and claws twitching. Her optics flashed blue, then red.

“I don’t want it,” she snarled through her clenched jaw, expression darkening. “It shouldn’t be mine, it can’t be. I don’t want—”

She cut herself off as her body seized, eyes strobing between colors again as her joints locked. Cometeater lurched forward, instinct overriding caution.

“Sunrazor?”

She gasped—vented—sharp and ragged, like her intakes couldn’t keep up with her frame’s demands. Her claws scraped at the berth, gouging lines into the metal as her arms stiffened. Her optics glitched violently, flashing blue, red, white—then back again in a loop that made Comet’s head ache just watching. The golden mech growled, her plating trembling and pressing tightly against herself.

Then, suddenly—stillness.

Her optics stopped flashing, going dark. No sound but the low hum of the medical equipment. Her frame slumped back against the berth, hands falling limp at her sides.

Comet’s heart skipped in panic.

“Sunrazor!”

She twitched—just once—then groaned, low and guttural, her optics fluttering open again. They glowed red. Just red.

Not white. Not blue.

Red.

Her face twisted into a grimace as she slowly raised a hand to her helm, pressing her clawed fingers against the side of it as though trying to force something out by sheer pressure. But she wasn’t curling them in, she wasn’t tearing like she had been before.

“Still here,” she muttered hoarsely, her voice grated and strained.

Comet sagged forward, grabbing the edge of the berth to keep himself upright. “Primus, I thought—”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, irritation raw and sharp.

Cometeater didn’t flinch. He knew that tone—sharp, defensive, a warning not to press further. But he also knew it was a mask. He’d heard it before, on the battlefield and off. Sunrazor wielded anger like armor, and right now, it was rattling.

“I’m fine,” she said again, quieter this time, but no less brittle. Sunrazor sharply glared at him, growling, “Stop breathing so damn loud in my ear, it’s annoying.”

The smaller mech didn’t flinch at the words, though he did blink, a little startled by how random her complaint seemed to be. He wasn’t that close to her, at least he didn’t think so. But Sunrazor had always had remarkable hearing, better than most at least. He shifted to the side, allowing her more room.

Cometeater remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Her sudden shift in tone, from the deep, bone-chilling stillness to sharp, biting words, left him at a loss. She was not fine, not truly. He could see the cracks beneath her anger, the tension in her frame, and the uncertainty still flickering in her optics.

He watched as she slowly tried to sit up, grimacing slightly as she tested her movements. Her movements were stiff, slow, as though her frame wasn’t fully obeying her commands yet, and he could see the faint tremor in her arms. She was far from fine, but he wasn’t about to argue with her.

Sunrazor sat up, leaning against the back of the berth. She looked over at Comet, her expression less hostile than before. Her gaze lingered, flashing blue before she blinked and looked down at her clawed hands which sat innocently in her lap. She was still, her eyes dancing between colors again before landing on a radiant blue, any remnants of her aggression fading.

She looked lost.

There was a beat of silence before she spoke, soft and quiet, more unsure than Comet had ever heard her, “I don’t want to remember what came before.”

#transformers #transformer oc #concepts #oc writing #cometeater #cometeater is not mine!#sunrazor #Ratchet is mentioned #I’m praying this makes sense #redemption au #I’m having too much fun with this now #I’ve got thoughts spinning around hehehehe #be ready #I don’t have much to say about this tbh #it exists #that’s it #hope it was decent

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quibble-auk · 21 days ago

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Yeah, so the animatic I’m making is going to take longer than I’d like. The clip I have is longer than the last one and yk… my pen is still broken so we are doing it the old fashioned way on paper and then tracing it digitally (hopefully)

Anyway, here are some of my “favorite” frames so far because piecing this together into a WIP animatic has been a nightmare.

These are all very sketchy tbh.

—

And now for the reject frames heh…

Yeah, I spent too much time on this one and the teeth ain’t even right so… maybe it’ll be used? It doesn’t really match everything else though.

I kinda hate the mouth too. But that’s besides the point.

I had to draw a hand and UUUGGGHHHH I hate hands. I’m struggling fr. Why did i decide to make this the scene? Why do i like to make myself suffer???

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quibble-auk · 2 months ago

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@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Haha part four.

I gave up. This entire thing is sketchy tbh. I’m praying it makes sense. I tried to add Comet to it but then I don’t think I’d get Sunrazor genuine spazzing out. Cause this happens a lot closer to her enviable death yk? Things are just progressively getting worse for her.

And seeing the guy who helped traumatize you and then immediately dipped has an effect on you. The last time she saw him she was being torn apart so…. Yeah…

—

By all means the landing should have hurt.

The drop down into the cavern was further than Dropmix had anticipated. He tucked himself into a roll the moment he hit the ground, trying to keep the strain from his limbs. It didn’t stop the way his armor and joints groaned as he pushed himself into a crouch. Battle programs numbed any pain he should have felt from the rough landing, allowing him to focus on more important matters.

Like Jeopardy.

The gladiator didn’t bother to look up and see if Cometeater would follow him down. He didn’t care what the green mech did at this point. He had led him to Jeopardy and that was all that he needed from Comet. It was all that mattered. Dropmix didn’t need his help, he would be able to handle this himself, and it was best if the smaller mech didn’t get in his way.

Dropmix focused on trying to get his vision to adjust to the darkness, slowly shifting into a standing position, though he remained slightly hunched over. It was moments like these that he couldn’t help but miss having his other eye—he didn’t need it, but his depth perception always became worse in the low lighting. Thankfully he didn’t really need to have night vision to lock onto his target. A growl immediately rattled his chest.

Not too far from the place he stood there were blinding lights. Searchlights mounted on a mech. A behemoth stood over Jeopardy. They crouched over the young medic, their clawed hands stained in fresh energon. Dropmix hardly even registered how familiar the frame was or the blinding flood lights that washed over him as they turned to look at him.

He didn’t give a damn who it was—Autobot or Decepticon. They had what was his.

They hurt what belonged to him.

Jeopardy looked up from where he was being pressed into the ground, grime and energon coating his usually pristine frame. His bright blue eyes went wide as his attention shifted to Dropmix. He made a small broken noise when he saw the dark mech, expression full of disbelief as his breath hitched. Jeopardy’s voice was timid and shaky, “Dropmix?”

The beast that sat over him visibly recoiled at the name, their grip on the medic tightening.

Dropmix growled as he stalked forward, battle programs immediately jumping to identify any weaknesses in his opponent. They were big and heavily armored. Any attempt at dealing blunt damage would be in vain and the small pistol he carried would struggle to deal any meaningful damage. But the bulk would make them slower and not as agile. If he managed to get their legs they would easily lose balance. The joints were well covered, though there were still gaps large enough that Dropmix could fit his claws—

He stumbled in his approach, the gladiator had been too caught up with sizing his opponent up to notice the small pile of debris at his feet. He swiftly regained his balance, gaze still not leaving his target. Programs kept him from feeling anything but that didn’t stop him from numb discomfort that coursed through his frame at the jerky movement. Warnings flashed in his HUD but the active battle programs quickly dismissed them for him. He knew what they were about anyway, his internal temperature had yet to decrease upon entering the cool cavern.

Dropmix needed to focus.

He didn’t have claws, so he’d need to improvise. Maybe he could… He didn’t let himself finish the thought, eye catching movement. The titan frantically stood, pulling a hulking gun from their back as they moved. They carried Jeopardy in their open hand and the medic cried out as he was yanked from the ground. The larger mech quickly pressed the barrel of the gun to Jeopardy’s quivering frame as they stumbled backwards in an attempt to distance themselves from Dropmix.

The gladiator froze, sucking in another breath. For a brief moment he could have sworn it was Theremin in their arms instead of Jeopardy.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill him!” The mech shouted, almost in a panic. Any commanding tone the booming voice usually carried was swamped down by fear. Their playing flared in warning, vents hissing and engine idling in a growl. What would have been an intimidating display was destroyed by their clear hesitation.

Their blue eyes flashed to red occasionally.

Which was odd.

Optics weren’t designed to change colors like that, not under normal settings at least. Yet the mech’s spasmed between red and blue, occasionally slipping into a piercing white. Dropmix blinked, breathing heavily as he stared the other down. It took a moment but in the haze of screeching battle programs he was finally able to recognize her. He knew who that was.

It was Sunrazor.

If Dropmix wasn’t as pissed off he may have smiled. He could work with this, it had been some time since he had seen Sunrazor but she clearly remembered him. The gladiator eyed her cautiously, jaw clenching tightly as he managed to rear in his anger. It was just like Noxious, he needed to hold himself back if he wanted to make her suffer. If he wanted to make sure that Jeopardy wouldn’t get hurt anymore than he already was. But he would still win.

The dark mech straightened slightly, still not risking another step forward. His frame shivered slightly as he struggled to restrain himself. He forced his tone to be even, focusing on Sunrazor instead of Jeopardy for the moment, “Put the gun down.”

Ideally, Torrent had left some of the slave coding active, though it was unlikely. But it was still worth a shot, unless the mech had gone out of his way to take Dropmix off of her list of “masters” she should be obedient.

The golden mech flinched back, eyes flicking frantically. Her grip on the gun and Jeopardy tightened. Her claws digging into his side. The medic cried out weakly, wide eyes still fixated on Dropmix’s form.

Sunrazor didn’t move for a moment. Her eyes flicked between colors before flashing a bright white, matching her floodlights. Her powerful engine growled, plating flaring in warning and an attempt to expel some of the heat that was building in her stressed frame. Dropmix could see the slight warping in the air that surrounded her.

Surprisingly, she smiled, mouth twisting upwards as she bore her fangs. Sunrazor lowered her gun as laughter bubbled from her throat, unhinged and mad sounding—Dropmix couldn’t help but cringe at the sound. She took a few more steps back, thrown off balance by her sudden outburst. Her plates settled slightly as her tense form relaxed. The guardian shook her head as the laughing settled into a dark chuckle.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Sunrazor loudly proclaimed, snickering as she looked over Dropmix with crazed white eyes. Her voice quieted for a moment “No… no you can’t. You can’t. I don’t have to listen. Not to you…”

She trailed off, muttering under her breath as she looked down at the gun she held for a brief moment. Her smile fading before it returned as she lifted her head to look at Dropmix. The Decepticon laughed more, the maddening sound echoing around the empty space. Her voice got louder and more confident again. “You're not real! I just made you up!”

The golden mech nodded to herself as she giggled, the sound getting caught in her vents, “Just another memory or some slag. Not real at all. You’ve been gone for so long! Why the hell would you show up now?”

Sunrazor shook her head, looking at Jeopardy as her platting rattled with each harsh breath she took. Her white eyes alight with something almost playful as she tried to contain her laughing fit, fingers twitching, “I must seem crazy to you, talking to myself.”

Jeopardy managed to look up at her with wide eyes, no sound left him as he stared at the spiraling mech who currently held him. The gun was still loosely pressed against him, though it had shifted from its original position on his head. The medic nervously glanced at Dropmix before looking back up at Sunrazor.

Dropmix’s eye narrowed, his systems working in overdrive to process the madness unfolding before him. Sunrazor’s words didn’t make sense—made him up? What the frag was she talking about? Jeopardy had addressed him just a few minutes ago. Her aggressive programming shouldn’t let her dismiss a threat so quickly. There was something beneath her erratic behavior that unsettled him, it took a moment before it clicked.

This was the instability that Torrent had warned them about.

Sunrazor had seen Valkyrie and the battle with her very own processor had long since begun. Dropmix just had never been able to see it in person before, not until now. The guardian had been lucky to survive this long with conflicting programs—as lucky as she could be, it was far from a painless process. But, she was apparently having hallucinations often enough that she had dismissed him as one.

Which meant he had less control than he originally thought. She wasn’t just malfunctioning. No, she was lost. Genuinely spiraling and confused. Dropmix was dealing with something broken beyond repair, and that only made her more unpredictable.

Dropmix had fought plenty of unstable mechs before. Some were glitched beyond recognition. Some were too far gone to process anything beyond violence. He knew how to handle those—predictable in their destruction, driven by instinct or command lines that couldn’t be rewritten.

But Sunrazor was different.

Her eyes still occasionally spasmed between colors—always landing on that stark white. She was present, though. Aware. Not entirely lost to her programming, just caught in some limbo between control and collapse. A bomb waiting to go off at the slightest wrong move. Unfortunately for Dropmix, if he happened to make a fatal error in his approach Jeopardy would be the one punished.

The gladiator adjusted his stance, trying to steady his vents, ignoring another ping of warnings. His battle programs wanted him to charge. Tear through her plating, rip her apart, take Jeopardy back. But he couldn’t risk setting her off. Not when she was already teetering on the edge of whatever abyss she was staring into. So, he sat and waited, frame itching and aching for action.

Sunrazor exhaled sharply, a dry, staticky sound. Her venting system must have been failing under the strain of overheating. Her laughter finally ceased as her smile fell to a more blank expression, her gaze shifting back to Dropmix, head tilting slightly as she examined him. She muttered to herself, too quiet for the dark mech to hear.

He had to do something, hesitantly he shifted his posture. His hands twitched. Dropmix had no idea if this gamble would work, but it was the only edge he had. Sunrazor’s mind was eating itself alive. If she genuinely thought he wasn’t real, then she might hesitate just long enough to give him an opening. “If I’m not real then you can lower your gun. There’s no reason to hold it to the medic.”

There was a brief pause.

“Who?” She blinked, looking around until she followed the barrel of the gun down to Jeopardy, who she was still holding up. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. She remained still and quiet for a moment, eventually slowly lowering her gun and speaking softly, “I was gonna bring you to the base, right? Not kill you?”

Dropmix used the long pause to slowly creep closer, each movement slow and calculated. He used her confusion and shifted focus to his advantage. If he got close enough then he could finally disarm her and let his programs take over again. The idea seemed to satisfy them at the moment, the promise that he would still punish the guardian was enough.

Jeopardy stared up at her, wincing as her grip tightened again, a small whine escaping him. He nodded hesitantly, sucking in a shaky breath. His voice was quiet and broken, “Ye-Yeah… Not kill me.”

Sunrazor looked back at Dropmix and he froze. She watched at him carefully, skeptically almost. But slowly her attention drifted back to Jeopardy, her gaze shifting to the medic. Her eyes flashed to red and she growled, plates flaring as her engine roared back to life. Her grip shifted before it tightened, claws embedding deep into Jeopardy’s side and chest. The plating crumpled under the force and more energon pooled down the medic’s white form.

The medic screamed, the noise fizzling to static as his struggling slowed.

Dropmix felt his spark lurch, vents failing as his mind descended into a haze. He surged forward, instincts demanding action, but his own restraint twisted like a blade in his gut. The gladiator came to a stumbling halt when Sunrazor’s glare turned to him. Her finger on the trigger twitched. He couldn't move—not yet. He couldn't risk it.

His vents whined softly, Dropmix couldn’t hear his fans blasting anymore. Every single battle program was shrieking at him to move, to kill, to reclaim—but he held himself still. Just barely. His frame tensed and twitched as he was forced to watch. If he moved he would lose Jeopardy, but if he didn’t act soon then it all would have been for nothing.

He couldn’t afford that.

The gladiator forced himself to suck in a breath, the warnings refused to be dismissed so he just ignored them. He needed to get her talking, get her stuck in the loop she was spinning herself into. He took another cautious step forward. He managed to make his voice calm, though there was an edge to it as he strained to keep himself under control, “You were going to take him back. Not kill him.”

Sunrazor’s eyes flashed, lips peeling back from sharpened teeth. Her frame groaned, the paint covering the plating over her core starting to blister and peel back. Her breath puffed, the hot air forming a small cloud against the coolness of the cavern. The guardian’s plating trembled slightly.

"You’re—” Her breath stuttered. “You’re not real.”

“That’s right. I’m not real,” Dropmix nodded sternly, his voice firm as he shifted ever so slightly closer. “So put him down, Sunrazor. Before you make a mistake.”

The Decepticon’s grip slackened slightly, eyes flaring between colors until fiery red bore into Dropmix’s frame. She bore her teeth angrily as she seethed, “I don't make mistakes. I don’t need to be fixed.”

Her entire frame locked up at the word, breath hitching. Sunrazor’s grip tightened again, Jeopardy’s scream wrenched through the cavern, fizzing into garbled static as Sunrazor’s claws dug deeper. Dropmix flinched again, a low growl escaping him. His spark clenched, he hadn’t even been the one to make a mistake.

Sunrazor had set herself off.

“You think I’m glitched!” Her voice roared angrily, “You think I’m broken!”

Dropmix didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. She saw the answer in his silence.

For a moment, Sunrazor looked like she wanted to rip her own plating off. Her claws twitched, her entire form shuddering like she was barely holding herself together. She shook her head muttering to herself. The air around her still warped with heat, and her engine roared again, but there was something frantic about it now.

Then, in a movement so fast it sent Dropmix’s systems screaming in warning she hurled Jeopardy to the floor.

The medic hardly had time before he hit the ground hard. A sickening crunch echoed through the cavern as his already battered frame crumpled against the cold floor. His body skidded across the rough ground before coming to a limp stop. His vents wheezed, the sound fizzling into static before cutting off entirely.

Everything stood still.

Dropmix could have sworn he was back in The Pits staring at the limp form of Theremin. It crashed over him all over again, he wasn’t enough. He had failed Theremin and now he had failed Jeopardy too. Dropmix’s vents choked. The screech of his battle programs reached a deafening pitch, a piercing wail demanding action. Every inch of his plating bristled as the weight of the moment crushed down on him but he couldn’t will himself to move.

Jeopardy didn’t move.

His body lay sprawled where Sunrazor had thrown him, energon pooling beneath his white frame, staining it in deep violet streaks. His eyes were still dim, unfocused and flickering softly. Jeopardy was expressionless and blank. Dropmix couldn’t tell if he was conscious—if he was alive.

It was give up then, he bitterly concluded as he stared at the motionless medic. That's what would happen if he lost Jeopardy. Dropmix couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe—but maybe that was just his system finally giving way to the heat. Dropmix couldn’t even bring himself to rush over to check vitals because maybe if he waited long enough he would wake up. He just uselessly stared at Jeopardy, praying to whatever higher power that the white mech would move.

His fingers twitched.

It was all Dropmix needed.

The air cracked with the sound of his engines surging to life as he lunged.

Sunrazor barely had time to register the movement before Dropmix slammed into her with all the force of a railgun shell. The impact sent them both crashing into the cavern wall, rock and dust exploding around them. The golden mech snarled, caught off guard, dropping her gun as she struggled to regain composure. Her eyes flaring white.

Dropmix didn’t give her a chance to recover. He couldn’t.

His claws—his hands, he didn’t have claws, not anymore—latched onto the plating of her midsection. He shoved his blunt fingers into a small gap that had already started to form from where her armor had dented and been warped out of place. His hand burned, the heat following off of the other made his vision glitch out for just a moment. Sunrazor’s claws sank into his back, into the thick shell like armor that covered it.

The gladiator didn’t react, all that mattered was tearing her apart before she had the chance to touch Jeopardy again. He focused on where he had forced his hand under her armor. With a practiced ease he twisted his wrist, forcing the plating to pop off. The sound satisfying something deep inside him.

The guardian roared, searchlights flashing as she thrashed angrily, tearing off chunks of armor. Dropmix’s fingers dug deeper into the exposed plating, twisting, forcing it wider, pushing past layers of warped metal until he felt the subtle give of something vital beneath.

Sunrazor screamed.

Dropmix was back in The Pits again. Tearing another opponent apart for the sake of wounded pride. There was no music to restrain him, no need to contain himself. The only thought running through his mind was how to make the other mech suffer.

Her body jerked, engine stuttering as she spasmed against him. Her vents blasted scalding heat into his face, but he didn’t let go. He would not let go. Not even when her claws finally sank into his back, tearing through the soft plating. Dropmix drove his hand deeper, tearing at anything he managed to get a hold of. He expected her to scream again. She didn’t.

She started laughing. A choked, rasping, painful. A dry, broken noise full of something Dropmix didn’t have a name for.

“You,” she hissed, voice fractured at the edges, like something breaking apart mid-sentence. “You think you can fix me, Dropmix? Think you can kill me before they do?”

Her vents hitched, body trembling under his grip, but her gaze found his, locked onto him, burning—something deeper than hatred, more primal than fear. She whispered, too soft, too calm, “You can try.”

Dropmix should have finished her. Should have driven his fist deeper, torn out whatever he could reach, ended the fight before she had the chance to retaliate. But he hadn’t acted fast enough.

Her heel slammed into the side of his knee joint, twisting against the structure with pinpoint force. Dropmix snarled as his balance broke. His knee buckled, plating grinding against itself, collapsing into itself under the force. He recoiled, trying to regain balance, attempting to use her to stabilize himself. But it left an opening.

In that fraction of a second Sunrazor moved. She wrenched one clawed hand from his back and drove it forward. She aimed for his face. The force sent him staggering, his helm whipping to the side as he felt metal crack. His HUD flared in protest, error messages screaming across his vision as his depth perception collapsed further.

Sunrazor wasted no time. The moment she had space she lunged. Her shoulder slammed into his chest, raw strength sending him hurtling backward. Dropmix hit the ground hard, rolling, plating scraping against the jagged cavern floor. He grunted, vents stuttering as his systems scrambled to reorient himself. His knee ached from the direct hit, his head swam from the strike, but he forced himself upright, instinct demanding he move, that he retaliate.

The golden mech didn’t move from where she stood, eyes flickering between colors. She heaved ragged, uneven breaths, vents sputtering under the strain of her overheated frame. Energon seeped down her front, her clawed hand pressed against the gaping wound Dropmix had left, it did little to stop the bleeding.

“…You're not supposed to be here,” she whispered, the words carrying something almost… uncertain. “You're not—”

She cut herself off, plating rattling as her hands twitched, her eyes cycling through colors again. Eventually they landed on a radiant blue. Her eyes widened and she took a few stumbling steps backwards, she was afraid. Sunrazor shook her head, tone dropping, “What do you want from me?”

Dropmix’s gaze flickered toward Jeopardy’s unmoving form. His plating prickled, his rage clawing back up his throat. He wanted to rip her apart, wanted to see her spark gutter out in his hands for what she had done. But with each second he spent trying to make her pay Jeopardy could be drifting closer to death. The gladiator couldn’t risk that. He needed to prioritize the safety of Jeopardy over his own pride. He tensed, body flinching as he narrowed his eye.

He swallowed down his fury, forcing his frame to still even as his plating twitched with the need to finish what he had started. His battle programs screamed at him, demanding retaliation, demanding he strike while she was weak, but he pushed the urge down. Dropmix forced himself to straighten despite his aching knee and back, despite the throbbing in his helm and the insistent heat that made it difficult to focus. His vents hissed as he took a single step forward, tone sharper than steel. “I want you to run.”

Sunrazor flinched at the demand, as though it was a foreign concept to her. Her expression twisted into something unreadable, her claws twitching at her sides. He could see the battle waging within her, the conflict tearing at her from the inside. She was unraveling, losing control of whatever programming was holding her together.

Good.

The guardian took another stumbling step backward, vents wheezing under the strain of her failing systems. Her eyes, still flickering erratically, locked onto Dropmix with something between rage, confusion, and fear. The shift in her stance was almost imperceptible, a twitch of her plating, the slight dip of her frame, but Dropmix recognized it for what it was—hesitation.

He had her.

She might not have realized it yet, but she was already retreating. His demand had cut through whatever tangled mess was gnawing at her mind. He saw it in the way her fingers clenched and unclenched, the way her plating bristled with uncertainty.

“I said run, Sunrazor,” Dropmix repeated, his voice dangerously low, the edge of a growl curling into his words. He took another step forward, slow and deliberate. He eyes Jeopardy, who had still not moved from where he lay still. Dropmix prayed he wasn’t too late already. He glowered at the Decepticon when she still didn’t move.

Her eyes spasmed again, flickering between red and white before settling on a pale, piercing blue. A low, guttural sound rumbled from her throat, almost like a whine. She shook her head sharply, plating shuddering with the movement, like she was trying to shake something loose. "No—no, I don't have to—I'm not—" she stammered, voice cracking.

She sounded lost.

But Dropmix didn’t care. He wasn’t here to save her.

The gladiator took another step forward, closer to Sunrazor and Jeopardy alike. He shuddered as he forced himself to turn the music back on in his internal comms. Beating his battle programs into submission and staggering a bit when a tidal wave of pain washed over him. The programs wouldn’t buffer it for him anymore, he would just need to deal with it.

Sunrazor didn’t seem to notice the dark mech falter, she simply took a few more steps back, trying to keep the distance between them. Dropmix growled low, he already had her cornered, he had already won. She just refused to admit it. He stalked closer, “Get out of here.”

#transformers #transformer oc #transformers writing #oc writing #sunrazor #dropmix #jeopardy #angst #a lot of it #I struggled to write this you have no idea #then you casually mentioned another much easier route but it was too late #ugghhhhhhh I don’t like certain parts of this but I tried #this is like half proofread #also does Sunrazor count as a warning? am I able to put that and be done?#but Sunrazor is not all that mentally present if you can’t tell #fun fact this is also the part of the story where Jeopardy originally died…. so…. yippee he lived?#gonna keep that Sunrazor repellent close tho #my favorite insane lady. she’s fine I swear. trust.#is this a cliffhanger? yeah probably #but this is all that I got done #and it kinda works as an end #I was going to need to split it again anyway #because if it gets too long it will bother me #so sorry comet didn’t turn up. I was gonna add him but ended up staring at the doc for like and hour then started drawing Nova

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quibble-auk · 2 months ago

Text

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

This was supposed to be something else but I’ve been having a thought run around my head for too long and I just had to get it out. This happens before Sunrazor runs into Valkyrie, she’s just always had anger issues.

It’s kinda short but idk where to go from here. I’ll probably pick this up later.

Sunrazor looses her temper.

—

Sunrazor had almost groaned when she had received the message, she was moving to another base. Again. She had just finished building up an outpost and just like before, she wouldn’t be allowed to reap the reward from it. But she had listened anyway. The large golden mech had arrived on the assigned base a few days ago, quickly getting herself and her team settled.

This location was already built, she wouldn’t need to deal with whining construction mechs and unorganized ranks. Sunrazor was here as support, the commanding officer had been killed in a recent battle and she was acting as the base's CO until they found a more permanent solution. It was a waste of her skill, she knew it, Torrent did too. She wasn’t stupid, she knew a punishment when she saw it—even if it wasn’t an extreme one. It was more of a warning.

The large mech had gotten a little carried away at the last base. She really hadn’t meant to lash out so much, but she had never been surrounded by so many helpless, whining fools before. Sunrazor wanted results and she was going to get them, one way or another. If a few of those mechs died then it wasn’t her problem. But more than a few mechs died. A lot did. More than what high command saw as acceptable.

She huffed, plates flaring as she stalked through the dim halls. The few mechs around scattered to get out of her way, not daring to make eye contact or draw attention to themselves. It never stopped them from staring though, everyone always stared. They tried to be discreet about it but she could feel their looming gazes, Sunrazor had learned to ignore it. They were not used to seeing a mech of her stature and power, it was expected for them to stare and gawk at her. She was built to intimidate and threaten, make people submit to her will and obey.

Sunrazor turned a corner, the bots in this hallway quickly scattering to the sides, trying to make themselves look busy. She almost rolled her eyes, they were all weak. The golden mech ignored as her hud provided her with another stress warning. She held herself straighter, chin lifted and shoulders rolled back, her hands held in firm fists at her sides as he confidently strode through the corridor. She kept her own gaze forward, not bothering to look at anyone else.

Behind her two mechs followed, Volley and Overstrike. The two other Decepticons almost never left her side, the two members of her carefully crafted team that were ever present. Overstrike—a large seeker—was the only one who seemed to never tire of Sunrazor’s presence. Volley—a rather tall and broad Praxian—on the other hand was obligated to follow her, reporting any anomalies in her behavior to Him as he tried to advise her.

Really, it felt a bit unnecessary for them to accompany her around the base. She was only going to the training room to blow off some steam. Most bots cleared the room when she showed up so there wasn’t a high likelihood of there being an incident. But the two insisted they go with her, “just in case.” Sunrazor felt her jaw tighten, annoyance turning to irritation. Her plating flared slightly as she turned another corner, vents hissing hot air as she kept herself reigned in. The sooner she got to the training room the better.

She turned the corner sharply—too sharply. There was someone there, the two of them reacted quickly, each realizing what was about to happen though the momentum of their heavy frames making their fate inescapable. The impact slammed into her midsection and chestplate, a solid force that should’ve barely moved her, but her legs faltered.

Sunrazor probably wouldn't have stumbled if it hadn’t been for the awkward internal supports in her legs that she was still adjusting to. Her base protoform wasn’t strong enough to carry all of the extra weight, and the internal supports only lasted so long until they buckled under the pressure and strain of keeping her moving. Torrent had just had them replaced.

The commander hissed, vents flaring, as she caught herself. Her engine growling and revving as she regained her balance. She did not fall, but the stumble alone was unacceptable. Overstrike nearly collided into her from behind, only barely correcting her course. Volley simply halted, watching with his usual unreadable stare. No one else in the corridor moved, the space going deathly silent and still as everyone watched.

“Oh slag! I am so sorry! I didn’t–” The mech she had run into began, nearly falling over himself. He struggled to regain her balance. He shook his head—no doubt having had it impact harshly with her bush guard—as he looked at her. His words died off. His eyes flickered wide, his entire frame locking up as though he’d just glimpsed a ghost.

The larger golden mech reared angrily, teeth bore dangerously as her scowl locked onto the idiot that had dared to get in her way. Her plating flared and trembled with barely contained rage, her shoulders hunching over as she looked down at the other. Her vents and breathing were hot and heavy, hands flexing slightly as she fought the urge to sink her claws into him. Her voice was a low growl, promising violence and pain, “Who the hell are you?”

Volley watched her carefully, expression neutral. Overstrike glared at the mech who was still struggling to form words. The two knew better than to get involved, leaving the defenceless mech at her mercy. No one else dared to try and step between the two.

The mech—a guardian frame—continued to open his mouth though no words were formed. He shook his head, something haunting his expression. His wide eyes examining her face, something like disbelief mixing with his terror. His breath hitched again. He looked like he was on the verge of breaking down already, it was a pathetic display of cowardice.

Sunrazor didn't have the patience or time for this. She advanced, the smaller mech stumbled backwards until he collided harshly with a wall. Sunrazor loomed over him, close enough that she could feel the hot air his vents were expelling. His plating trembled, pressing into himself as stared at her with wide eyes.

“I asked you a question, dammit!” Her voice surged, sharp and cutting. Getting louder as she demanded an answer from the pathetic excuse of a Decepticon.

His vents hitched, expelling ragged bursts of hot air as if his system couldn’t keep up with the stress. His hands twitched at his sides, halfway to raising in surrender before he realized—too late—it wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t fast enough to escape. His back pressed hard against the wall, his trembling frame pinned more by instinct than by force. The smaller mech opened his mouth to speak but only half formed words seemed to escape him.

Her body shook slightly as she watched him continue to stumble over words, mumbling gibberish. Sunrazor’s clawed fist met the wall behind him, his head just a few inches from where her fist impacted. She felt the wall give way slightly, not enough to damage the metal, but it groaned as it was struck. The impact rattled through the smaller mechs frame, the sound vibrating through him. They shrunk even more, a terror filled cry escaping his mouth as he flinched away violently.

She hunched down even lower, invading what little personal space the other had left. Her plating flaring even more as her body struggled to regulate its own temperature. Sunrazor let her engine growl idly, as she leaned her head closer to him, staring into his fear filled eyes. Her jaw set and teeth bared so tightly it ached.

“Make me repeat myself and see what happens,” Sunrazor’s tone became quieter, not losing any intensity or anger as it lowered, “Answer. The fragging. Question.”

Finally the worthless mech spoke, a single name escaping his tight throat. The guardian’s voice was broken and barely above a whisper as he trembled,

“Powercase.”

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