(I follow the tags alpha113n, A113N alpha113nredshirteradicon, and alpha113n redshirt eradicon) Designation: A113N Frame type: Jet Eradicon My name is A113N and I am a fighter class jet Eradicon. I am more than just a drone.
I first conceived this artwork in December 2024, shortly after I began drawing Transformers fanart. At that time, I had little idea how to properly depict body structure of the mechs. Looking back, the initial draft was quite messy. I redrew it in October 2025 and only recently picked it up, refining some of my original ideas along the way. I'm glad to realize there's still so much room for improvement.
While drawing this piece, the lyrics "You and I, we are one of a kiiiiiind" from Vivo kept playing in my head. Though vastly different in personality, Soundwave and Blaster—being the only Casstte carriers we know in the two Cybertronian factions-are truly "one of a kind." In the Japanese TF G1 continuity Headmasters, after their mutual destruction, they were reborn as Soundblaster and Twincast, each undergoing a shift in color scheme—from deep blue to black, and from red to blue. It's as if Soundwave has absorbed Blaster’s red-and-black palette, while Blaster’s red is now overlaid by Soundwave’s blue. I love this sense of mutual infiltration and fusion between them, and that’s exactly where the color scheme for this illustration comes from. (I’ve used a similar concept before in another artwork inspired by the cover of Call Me by Your Name.)
These two Cybertronians, who have either already or will experience death and rebirth together, exist in this moment as an overlapping state of life and afterlife.
//welp, no writing this weekend :( It's been way too distracting here. Company all weekend. Next weekend is busy too. This week I'm going to try to pick up some OT. Can't guarantee I'll be on. I just had to catch up on my dash from 4 or 5 days ago. That took a while...
I queued 30 things in my queue to keep my blog alive.
I hope to be on soon tho. Because the ideas are there. But the energy and focus are not.
BOLD fears; italicize what makes them uncomfortable
the dark ⋆ fire ⋆ open water ⋆ deep water ⋆ being alone ⋆ crowds ⋆ confined spaces ⋆ open spaces ⋆ war ⋆ failure ⋆ loss of control ⋆ powerlessness ⋆ prison ⋆ blood ⋆ drowning ⋆ suffocation ⋆ public speaking ⋆ forest ⋆ the supernatural (ghosts) ⋆ heights ⋆ loss ⋆ dying ⋆ death ⋆ love ⋆ intimacy ⋆ rejection ⋆ abandonment ⋆ the unknown ⋆ the future ⋆ not being good enough ⋆ scary stories ⋆ speaking to new people ⋆ poverty ⋆ loud noises ⋆ lack of noise ⋆ being touched ⋆ forgetting ⋆ insects ⋆ dogs ⋆ snakes ⋆ animals ⋆ illness ⋆ doctors ⋆ thunderstorms ⋆ being watched ⋆ eyes ⋆ being vulnerable ⋆ needles or pointed objects ⋆ clowns ⋆ mirrors ⋆ isolation ⋆ shouting ⋆ change/fear of change
Please speak up if I have missed you! I really don't mind. Just send me the link, and I'll be sure to reply. Thank you all for being so patient in getting your replies. I've had a lovely day catching up with all of your muses. But, again, I wanna make sure I get everyone! So, please don't be afraid to send me a link if I forgot you! <3
I have a couple of new replies saved from today. Blamethequints (x2), viciousbite (rp with Fleta), and helicrazy.
Send ⚠ to find my muse in solitary confinement. | Accepting
In the dark of a bright new world stands a prison. Deep within sits a seeker...
Starscream didn't come to visit anymore.
It was a stupid thing to be upset about -- it was Starscream, of course he'd be off to greener pastures and bluer skies once it became clear that Skywarp had no intention of giving up his convictions to play nice with the Autobots and make a cushy little nest for himself in that new world order they'd established. That he wouldn't be useful anymore.
The fact that Thundercracker hadn't come at all was a bit more fair to be hurt by, he supposed. According to Starscream, TC had gone and fucked right off the planet to who knew where, leaving behind war and politics and annoying teleporting trine mates the moment he got the chance.
(Or maybe Starscream was lying. Maybe TC was locked up too.
...probably not.
Thundercracker had always been the most vocally doubtful of the Decepticon cause. Autobots would've eaten that scrap right up.)
So.
Skywarp was the only one of them still fighting the good fight, whatever that meant anymore. Locked up and locked down, cuffed wrists, thrusters, and wings, it was actually infuriatingly easy to take him down when he acted up.
Even when he bit.
(Skywarp still wondered who exactly was keeping them from muzzling him -- he could tell they wanted to.)
He fought them, every step of the way. The guards. The occasional visitor talking about the life he could have outside the prison -- if he just sold his soul for it.
Fought the other inmates, too, when they said stupid scrap like "why do you keep this up" and shook their heads at him like he was crazy for it. When they looked like they pitied him.
Throwing a tantrum, one of the guards had called it, and Skywarp took special satisfaction ramming his forehead into the slagger's nose. The way it had crunched had been very enjoyable indeed.
They'd tazed him good for that one, long enough that he'd been twitching all the way back to solitary. He saw more of that than what was supposed to be his actual cell.
He wanted to say this current stint was his longest one in here, but he wasn't sure anymore. His chrono was up and running, so he probably could have figured it out, but why bother? Wasn't like he had anyone to brag to about it, and knowing wouldn't dissuade him from doing the slag that'd get him right back either.
He couldn't just stop, after all. Couldn't let millenia of war and destruction and death all be for nothing. No, Skywarp would keep making this difficult, struggle till he either got free or someone got fed up or trigger happy enough and put him down like a rabid mechanimal.
He kind of felt like one anyway.
Either way, the Autobots would be forced to confront the ugly truth behind their shiny new post-war society. Be forced to know, intimately, that for all that they tried to banish the shadows, the darkness would also come creeping back in.
With his thoughts drifting in paths so familiar it was like following the groves worn into a path after walking it for vorn on end, the disruption, when it came, wasn't doing anything to send them off course. He did of course try to bite, almost out of habit, when the guards took hold of him though.
The ones they'd sent clearly had either been briefed or learned firsthand where not to put their hands (and other bits), so Skywarp didn't make contact. They knew better than to try talking to him as well, and Skywarp didn't bother trying to question them in turn.
He let his pedes drag however, refusing to walk when they hauled him up, out of the cell and down the hall. After so long without contact, their touch burned -- Skywarp refused to let it show.
Where they ended up taking him was a surprise.
Skywarp hadn't seen the inside of a visiting booth -- a repurposed and renamed interrogation room -- in... he couldn't be bothered to check his logs. A damn long time was sufficiently precise.
He hadn't been brought here again after he'd sent the last soft-spoken blue-eyed mech come to preach at him about how he was squandering his life doing what he was to the med bay. Offering poisoned promises of the sky and not-quite-freedom, Skywarp had called them every curse under the sun, dislocated both his shoulders to gain the range of motion needed to reach the careless slagger, and torn off a chunk of plating with his teeth, nicking a major energon line in the process.
The mech's fuel had still been staining his face when the guards had rushed in and forced him face down on the ground and Skywarp had laughed till he was hoarse, sounding every bit as crazed as everyone thought he was.
Technically no one told him he was banned from their little volunteer outreach program thingy after that, so maybe they'd just run out of mechs willing to risk it. He'd still kind of expected they wouldn't try again.
But here he was, back again. Getting thoroughly strapped into the chair he'd been put in (and that chair was bolted to the floor now, too, looked like the Autofraggers did learn sometimes!) until his wings were pinching uncomfortably and he was all but immobile.
Oh well -- he could be plenty nasty with his words. In fact...
"What, not gonna weld me down to the seat, too?," he goaded.
The guard giving his restraints one final inspection gave him a tap -- couldn't even be called a slap really -- on the back of the helm with his open palm and told him to shut up in a tone that sounded dangerously close to boredom.
Skywarp told him to suck slag, but it only got him a deep sigh. Maybe they'd stopped assigning guards with tempers to him. That'd be... disappointing. Annoying, even.
"You know," the guard said, "I don't give two frags if you rust in solitary, but this guy went through a lot of hoops to come here. Filed a dozen forms and applications, signed double that in waivers, did a full psych eval, all just so he could speak to you."
Skywarp tilted his head. If any of that was true, and it might not be he made sure to remind himself, then his mystery visitor really was desperate to meet.
Someone with an old score to settle? One of the Praxians, maybe, come to finally take their revenge against someone who no one would question twice if they looked beat to slag or deactivated entirely? Or just another fool with a savior complex, hoping to redeem Skywarp's twisted spark?
"Awww, did he bring me chocolates 'n flowers too?," he asked, tone sickly sweet and mocking.
The guard blinked at him, uncomprehending. Not someone who'd been stationed on Earth then. Shame. Skywarp was rather proud of that particular line.
Instead of the reaction Skywarp had been fishing for, they slowly shook their head and turned away: "You might want to figure out what last chances look like, Skywarp. There's not a whole lot that comes after them."
Skywarp growled low in his chassis and spat at their turned back. He missed, and it wasn't close either. The guard gave no indication that they had even noticed, just went to take up their position next to the door, opposite where their partner already stood.
The design of the room had been for interrogation originally, and keeping a prisoner's back to the door was hardly a bad thing for security even when those coming in were "visitors" (ha!) now.
Skywarp could crane his neck a bit to just barely just keep one guard in the corner of his vision, but the actual door was out of sight.
He refused to acknowledge that it did, in fact, set him on edge, kept strict control of himself so he did not flinch when he heard it open and another mech step inside.
It was, in fact, just another fool with a savior complex, hoping to redeem Skywarp's twisted spark... of course, the Eradicon had no idea what terrible escapades Skywarp had been up to while he was locked away.
Allen liked Skywarp; he liked Thundercracker and Starscream too. But to say he really knew any of them personally would be a lie. Each of them seemed to keep their real selves hidden from one another. That was kind of a Decepticon thing to do. A survival skill, if you could call it that.
But when he heard the fellow bird was locked up, the only one of the three, the thought ate at his spark. Starscream, probably the worst of the three, was off doing his own political nonsense and was lucky enough to avoid being stuck in a cell (at least for too long), and TC had indeed fragged off to Earth. So that left poor Sky all by his lonesome. And being locked away, no sight of the sky, no air to support his wings... the thought made Allen shiver. That was hell.
He hoped beyond hope that he could speak the magical words Sky needed to hear to make him agree to be chill with the Autobots so he could be released and they could frag off to some other planet and just live the rest of their lives in peace!
But the moment Allen saw Skywarp, strapped down completely and all but muzzled, his hopes all but died. What had he done to be locked up so tightly?
His wings lowered some, but he was mindful of them and made sure to hike them right back up. He wanted to have a positive attitude with Skywarp. He wanted the whole experience to be good for both of them.
Allen, the Eradicon, ever so hopeful all the time. Probably the biggest fool of all Eradicons...
"Skywarp!" Tears welled up in his optics. "It's so good to see you! Remember me, bud?"
Some people are afraid to say no or are afraid that you will get mad at them! This is to say that you would prefer people politely tell you NO if they don't want to do something!
Don't know how to say no? Here are some ways that shouldn't hurt anyone's feelings:
I'm not really feeling that idea, but maybe we could do (blank) instead
Maybe another time / not right now / I don't have the bandwidth for that kind of plot right now / that's not the type of thing I was really looking for but I'd love to do something else / I'm not currently looking for more threads / It's better for me if we just focus on what we have for now / hmmm what if we did (blank) instead / maybe another time!
A Perfect Romantic Getaway (starter for @blamethequints)
The Eradicon was positively buzzing with energy. This would be the first time leaving Mechanadron since he arrived with all of his brothers.
He really enjoyed his freedom on the planet, and the planet had a lot to offer for a bot looking to start their life (bonus points if one was a mech). His clone brothers were having the time of their lives on the planet.
What had him ecstatic was knowing he and Lodestar had a date, one long planned in their books. Back then, it seemed like it was forever off, but as it became nearly a week away, suddenly the moment was here!
He didn't have much to pack--a habit of being a mech on the run all the time, and being involved in a war where your next day was never promised. One didn't accumulate much, especially something that would need to be packed.
His main concerns were looking his best before meeting up with Lodestar, and packing things to maintain his frame while he was away.
They were headed to a planet whose moon was a resort. It had bio-tech life and plenty to see and do. It had good food, oil baths, service bots, and (he had heard) that this moon had the most beautiful sunsets every evening.
A perfect romantic getaway.
Allen arrived at Lodestar's place with a bright smile on his revealed faceplate. (His mask could stay at home for the trip). He was early, but he wanted to make sure they had plenty of time to reach the off-world shuttle.
Allen flicks his wings, buzzing with excitement. He can't bite back the smile that feels like plastering itself to his face. He feels so energetic and bouncy, his wings itching to do some more exploring. He knew he would have more time for that later, though. He planned this trip for both of them; he wanted it to be a romantic time together. Maybe he could find something that could take them both into the skies, or something that would help Lodestar fly beside him. A jet pack or something. He wondered what she would think about being so high in the sky.
"Absolutely!" he replied, taking Lodestar's servo. "And maybe we can find a place to refuel. I'm sure they have all sorts of tasty snacks!" he was about equally excited to find something good to throw down his tanks. He was drooling thinking about it. Oh! And exploring all they could in the building. He had heard there were plenty of lookouts. Plenty of large windows to show all the waterfalls. Maybe they could find some tunnels to hike as well.
Seeing him smile like that warms her spark. Its obvious they picked a good spot to be together away from their responsibilities. The wing twitches just add to the moment.
Lodestar squeezes his hand gently and nods, "We'll find a place. I want to try everything they got for beings like us. First though the spa appointment, then we can enjoy our meal in peace." she points out.
She had taken time to memorize the layout of the hotel as well as the immediate area. There are a couple spas a short distance away on foot. "Come on, I know where we need to go." she says and moves to guide him there.
"Oof, I'm glad you know where you're going; I'm already lost!" he chuckles, holding her servo tight as she leads him to the best spa.
As they near the spa, he can already smell the ointments and oils, the smells of a fancy bot. And as they enter, attendants stand ready to greet them and bring them to two neighboring oil baths. First they soak and prime their frames, then comes the detailing.
Allen offers Lodestar a servo for getting in her oil bath first, and he will follow shortly after to get into his.
Lodestar made sure Allen had time to fully recooperate from his ordeal before she comms him up and asks him to meet her outside a building some blocks away from what is called rebuild headquarters. Thusly named because they have spent the past 10 years rebuilding and reviving their world for safe reoccupation.
The location she has chosen is a newly opened bar with both recorded and live music. Tonight, it is live music, and the dance floor is open for business. She waits outside for the mech to arrive, she's as clean as can be and shiny to boot. Plus, she made it a point to do some UV light pinstriping on her frame that will show up in the blacklights in the bar.
He laughs when she traps him and accepts his fate. He relaxes his frame and rests on top of Lodestar, leaning the side of his helm on her chest as he embraces her. He leaves his spike inside her as he rides out the last of her overloading waves. It feels good on his spike as it draws his fluids in.
He kisses her back and rests his helm on his servos like a cat lying across her chest.
"Uh-hh...." his frame goes stiff for a moment, and he hates himself for it. "Star..." speaking of children... it breaks his spark. He had a sparkling once a long time ago. A daughter. And he loved her dearly. But there was an accident, and she died. He doesn't know if he can put his spark out there like that again. He doesn't know if he has it in him to have another sparkling with someone else.
"I love you dearly, and I would love to be bonded. But..." he slips his spike out of her and draws himself to sit beside her. "I don't know if I can do the sparkling thing again..." he holds his spark as he tries to keep it together, as he tries to keep the flashbacks from returning to his processor.
Did spmeone say flames? Breakdown is here with paint and ready to help!
JC perked up. Sure, Breakdown wasn't Knock Out, but JC loved him by proxy, and he was the easier one of the two to get along with.
"Oh! I forgot you were the one who does all of Knock Out's cosmetic work. You're the one responsible for those ombre stripes on the Doc's doors?" he walks up to Breakdown and does a spin for him, "Can you make me look fast~? Just don't overdo it with the flames. I need just enough to look cool. I trust you know what you're doing." he rested his servo on his hip and looked around. "Where do you want me?" somewhere level to paint, he assumed. "And do you prefer to paint one in bot mode or alt?" he asked.
“Let’s push all of these stuff away. I wanna dance here right now with you.”
Breakdown to Allen :)
Allen snorted and laughed, "Okay, but we better be gentle, I don't wanna break Shockwave and Knock Out's tools. I don't wanna be their next project!" he began moving things out of the way, all to one upright med berth to make way for a dance floor.
He then stood ready to dance with the bruiser. "You ready, big fella?" Once he had him in his arms, he asked, "So why did it have to be right here?" he laughed.
yousharknotpass
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