I personally think the Constructicons don’t get enough love.
I just want to be coddled by six hard-working guys and maybe let them run a train on me, even if I’ll be beyond exhausted when they’re done
Big mood on the running a train part.
You'll get out of it covered in bruises and full of transfluid, but oh man, you've just got your guts rearranged in the best way possible
Group mentality with them is weirddd, especially because they're veryyy likely to spread your legs and comment among themselves about how well you take their spikes, and how you leaking so much transfluid. They're all wondering among themselves if you can go for another round
It had been a bad idea to even force themselves to combine in this way, but Megatron’s orders were Megatron’s orders, and the ruthless ‘Con leader was not to be disobeyed. Scrapper had tried to warn him, and he had tried to dissuade his team from giving in, but when you’re nothing more than a pawn in a bigger game, your protests often went unheard.
Devastator hadn’t just adopted the chubby shape of every single Constructicon component when they combined... he practically embodied it. His frame was massive, and his belly swung far below his knees. He bore each and every feature of the chunky Constructicons in all the worst ways, and as Scrapper struggled to take control inside their shared mindspace and help his team break apart again, the poor combiner leader quickly realized just how bad their situation really was.
“Mixmaster!” Scrapper shouted over the connection. “Stay in control!”
Mixmaster scowled back as Devastator wobbled in place on two unsteady legs. His frame was as heavy on the top as it was on the bottom, but the weight he bore was immense. Mesh protruded from between the seams of heavy armor and his big, round belly took the place of the slim front he bore before. It was a balancing act trying to keep him upright with the amount of weight he had taken on, and it was quickly becoming a losing battle for both Scrapper and his team.
“Easier said than done!” Mixmaster growled back. “We’re dealing with a heavy load here, Scrapper.”
Scavenger’s arm component swung wildly through the air as Devastator reached out in a desperate attempt to catch himself from falling. On his other side, Bonecrusher was held out in anticipation of the fall he knew was coming. They couldn’t stay up like this forever—the disharmony was almost as bad as the big, fat combiner they had been forced to create. It was a mess, and it was a struggle, and as Devastator bellowed out a low moan, Scrapper realized with dread that it was far too late to do anything about it.
Devastator only managed one step forward before the weight of his belly and the bulk of his frame became too much for him to bear. The ground shook like an earthquake beneath them as Devastator’s massive aft hit the concrete below. His belly jiggled and swayed as it spilled out into his lap, and he nearly toppled backwards and pinned himself beneath it before catching himself on the rubble nearby with Scavenger’s still-waving servo.
He was massive, Scrapper realized. It was no thanks to their big frames’ contributions lately, but it wasn’t going to an easy fix. With Devastator grounded and the Constructicons trapped in a combined state thanks to the size their big bellies and bigger frames, he knew the struggle would only get worse from there.
Slag it all, Scrapper had known better than to let them combine again so soon. Energon was flowing freely through their rations as of late, and the workload piled onto each of their shoulders had been reduced immensely by the recent dry spell between the Autobots and their faction. It was foolish of him to allow them to slack off so often, and it was even more foolish to have let them all get this big, but nothing had seemed all that bad in the beginning…
A little bit of extra belly here and a little more fat on their thighs there wasn’t so bad, Scrapper had thought. It had boosted their morale and encouraged closer companionship between them. Everyone seemed happier and more comfortable, too, even if the pounds kept coming and the weight kept building. It had felt right… it felt natural.
Mixmaster wore the weight well. Hell, he looked even better with a big belly similar to the one Devastator now had filling up his lap. The mech was fat all over, really, and he looked best that way.
Bonecrusher benefited from some extra weight on his frame, too, Scrapper had thought. The bulldozer was a beast—it was only fair that he get to carry enough weight on his frame to hold up that reputation.
Scrapper was starting to gain some himself, he noticed, as was Scavenger. His thighs were filling out, and his shoulders were soft and pudgy beneath his plating. Scavenger had a bit of a belly on him now, too, and his arms were becoming thick and chunky.
The members of their group that had already been bigger at the start—Hook, the cranky old mech with plush weight all over, and Long Haul, the mech whose thighs grew bigger and bigger by the day and whose aft barely fit through the doorframes anymore—were growing bigger too, just like the rest of them. Everyone was fat now, and everyone had gained quite a bit. Scrapper had never thought it would start to affect Devastator, too, but slag it… slag it, now it did.
It had affected all of them, Devastator included. Now, however, instead of the lustful looks they tossed at each other’s softening frames and the contentment of growing fat on good energon, they were starting to reap the consequences of their indulgence—and that consequence was a big fat Devastator stuck sitting on his aft while they sat trapped in their combined form and regretting their decisions.
Devastator was just as bad as all of them. His thighs rubbed together as he moved, and his belly was big enough to cover every inch of his frame. His arms had gone soft, and his plating hardly fit him, and while Scrapper had hoped in the beginning it might be possible to get their big brute back up onto his pedes, he was quickly realizing that would end up being nigh impossible for them at all.
Devastator wasn’t just big—he was immobilized, and it was all because of their voracious appetites and chubby frames.
Desperately, Scrapper tried to urge Devastator to move. He was far too big for un-combining at this size, but if they could get back to Megatron, there would be hope for them yet. His efforts went unsuccessful, however, and as he mentally sagged back into the role of sitting as one of Devastator’s unmoving legs, Bonecrusher angrily spoke up.
“We should have never combined,” the Constructicon huffed. “To slag what Megatron says. We’re too big for this!”
“We already were too big,” Scrapper corrected him, “and we’re already stuck. There was no way around it. As much as I hate allowing my team to be ruled by Megatron, I’m afraid there was just no choice.”
It was unfortunate. Now they were trapped here, fused together and stuck in place by Devastator’s massive frame. As the combiner’s belly began to rumble, Devastator searched the surrounding area for anything of substance, but was disappointed as expected.
Scrapper sighed as the big brute groaned in complaint. Alas, Devastator wasn’t just too big for them to un-combine… he was too big to even move. The Constructicon leader wanted nothing more than for them to all separate and be free of this mess once and for all… but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop the big mech from rubbing at his belly and groaning for fuel, either. All he could do was sit there, wait, and for the best as he longed for aid to come their way.
