First off I want to preface this by saying THIS IS A VORE BLOG. Also I’m a minor.
Secondly, you can call me SW. and I am the one who runs this account. I go by she/her pronouns. I AM A MINOR (just reiterating). This is specifically a SFW vore account. I do not view vore as something sexual and will never post anything that suggests that it will lead to such.
To people who aren’t comfortable with vore: Make the internet your own safe space and block me if I make you uncomfortable.
To 18+ content blogs: We can stay on our separate sides of the fence. I’m not going to harass you if you like my posts but I’d prefer it if no one reblogged them with kink tags. Mistakes happen and nobody checks the DNI list of every blog they like. Don’t start sending me death threats and we’re cool.
Don't try to DM me, I'm not going to respond.
Things I’m okay/comfortable with writing/drawing and what you’ll most likely see on my blog:
-Soft vore/comfort vore/protective vore
-fearplay (sfw only)
-g/t vore and halfsize (I’m more familiar with writing g/t vore) (not full size I’m not good at drawing it and it’s iffy for me)
-short stores/scenarios that contain vore.
Things I am NOT comfortable with writing/drawing and will never write/draw:
-any sort of sexual kink that involves vore
-hard vore/digestion
-writing minors as preds
-anything involving IRL people
-literally anything sexual, I cannot stress this enough
Other stuff:
You guys can send me asks about anything but please keep this in mind: If I don’t answer your ask, just assume I saw it and chose not to reply to it. I appreciate all interest in my art and writing but sometimes it can get overwhelming.
DNI:
TERFS, MAPS, NOMAPS (no. Just no.)
MDNI BLOGS/SEX STUFF BASICALLY/FEEDERISM BLOGS (again I am a minor)
In Optimus' defense! Fowler is a Very Important Human who might be able to help them with human relations
Yeah, Fowler’s their current human-dragon liaison so now it’s NECESSARY that he stays with them. After all, he’s got connections with other species that could potentially net them valuable information on Decepticon movements…
And Optimus appreciates having a new viewpoint to consider. Fowler, for all his odd human euphemisms and doublespeak, is a good conversationalist. At least, that’s Optimus’s mild argument when Ratchet gets exasperated with all of the new arrivals.
Heads up everyone, do NOT send me asks like this. Everything I write or draw is a product of my own time and effort. I also do this for FREE.
If I haven't answered an ask, it's because I don't want to.
It's as simple as that and I am not at all obligated to fulfill anyone's request. Nobody is entitled to my work so if you're really that desperate make it yourself. Another word of advice to this person (or generally anybody): Sending in duplicates of your ask doesn't make it more likely to be answered. If anything, instead of me even thinking about answering it, it just irritates me. I guarantee it's the quickest way to get your ask deleted.
No. Give me dragonformers Prime kids thoughts. I need them
HEHE IF YOU INSIST (hi mootie!)
I’d like to think that the reason why they got tangled up with dragons was just incredibly bad luck. Or good luck, depending on how you view it, LOL. Maybe they legitimately WERE getting carried off by Cons to get eaten, only for one of the bots to swoop in to save the day. Or maybe some of them had prior connections with the bots (in human form) and that somehow that ends up revealing the bot’s identity? There’s a lot of potential scenarios for this AU and I absolutely adore theorizing about all of them.
Alternate scenario to consider: Raf making friends with the Oddly Silent Guy who keeps popping up when he feels suffocated out in a house filled with so many voices. They both sit near the creek down south of the village and Raf vents out all of his frustrations. The guy never interjects other than an understanding pat on the shoulder. Raf is taught how to skip stones and they make a game out of seeing who’s can go farther (Bumblebee always wins)
And then when Bumblebee shows up in dragon form for whatever reason, Raf immediately clocks him LMAO. He’s a very observant cookie — he’d sniff out the discrepancies with Bee pretty quickly. Like, “this guy is weird but I’m not getting bad vibes off of him. I won’t say anything for now…”
Jack doesn’t get to meet Arcee before she pops up as a dragon. I’d like to think that the poor guy is just very unfortunate. If anyone were to get kidnapped by a Decepticon, it’s definitely him. Arcee, hunting down her target in a bid to find Cliffjumper (who’s MIA cough cough) has to switch priorities and save this random human. That’s how Jack ends up stuck in the middle of their battle, hopelessly confused, panicked, and wondering why the pointy blue one won’t just kill him and be done with it. Arcee is … begrudgingly obligated to take Jack with her since the Con had carried him far off from his village. She does NOT care about him one bit (she absolutely does).
Miko is a self proclaimed monster hunter. Bulkhead doesn’t find her, SHE finds him. Does she care she’s about five foot nothing in comparison to the legitimate mountain she’s trying to bring down?? No. Bulkhead is just incredibly worried about her. Where are her parents?? Who is letting her run around like this? He’s also slightly impressed with her tracking skills and her determination but good lord, she gives him anxiety. If he just lets her run off again, who knows what she’ll run into? Malignant bridge trolls? Devious and horrifying tree spirits? Decepticons???? Bulkhead delicately yoinks her and decides that if no one is looking after this wayward hatchling, it’s up to him. If he takes his eyes off of her for more than ten minutes, best believe she’s trying to hunt down something else.
And then Bulkhead, Arcee, and Bumblebee all reconvene at Autobot HQ with their charges. Optimus just stares as his soldiers all point at each other like oh you’ve got one too, nice. Ratchet is very unhappy with the new additions. And it’s not like they can just… boot them off back home, right? 1) Miko doesn’t have a home so Bulkhead argues that she needs to stay around him, 2) Bumblebee is already attached to his little friend and Optimus has already resigned himself to them being a pair and 3) Jack and Arcee made a deal on their mini Con-hunting adventure so now they CANNOT just abandon each other. They have to find Cliffjumper and Jack needs to go kill the Con who kidnapped him.
Ratchet wants to shift into his human form just so he can pinch his nose bridge. He feels a migraine coming on.
Does he get attached?? No. No, absolutely not. He doesn’t want the kids here. He doesn’t worry about them at all. He does not bundle them up in his hoard when they’re sick or cold or —
Ratchet sighs harshly in exasperation. “Optimus, this is insane. Are you going to wind up with your own human now??” He bites out rhetorically.
Optimus: slowly pulls Agent Fowler out of his pocket
Can we get more teasing wheeljack please 🥹🥹🥹🥹🙏🙏🙏 he's my absolute fav. I think you're the only person who draws wheeljack noms im STARVING
he’s my favorite too ❤️🩹 I never could find any noms with him either so I guess I gotta be the change I wanna see in the world sighhh. i think it’s really funny that you’re so ride or die for him LOL all of the asks you’ve sent are about Wheeljack. I hope you enjoy!
Also I am a firm believer in the transformers purr propaganda. You can wrestle that from my cold dead hands
I had a few bumblebee asks so I kinda just condensed them all into one! Also, I wasn’t sure which bumblebee yall wanted so I just went with tfp, sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted 😥. I like him a good amount but I did struggle to draw him a little. Curling up in his belly probably feels so nice though 🥹❤️🩹
Thinking about the dragonformers Prime kids and how their parents probably thought they'd been carried off to be eaten and the twisted, complicated lie the three fabricated that they escaped.
Thinking about these kids who wear human faces but have inevitably picked up things from their friends, growls, and a sort of silent, predatory grace, and a longing for the sky, kids who move fast under pressure and trot over, around, and between each other like a pack of wolves. Their parents, the ones who notice, think that their children have been fey touched, because surely these were not the kids that were stolen from them oh so long ago.
Which is a long walk to say Wheeljack is in for a terrible time trying to get his human to forgive him because all his experience with humans have been with the kids who don't ACT human.
oh my god your brain is incredible i adore this so much (also i checked and for some reason I wasn’t following you??? I don’t know how that happened D:)
The thought of the prime kids having to play off surviving being “murdered” by dragons is so brilliant. I just know Miko embellished the SHIT outta what happened too. “Oh, yeah I’m totally a dragon killer now, you shoulda seen me take that beast down.” Meanwhile Bulkhead cradled her in his claws the entire time and refused to put her down out of fear that she’d somehow get stepped on. Raf and Jack just facepalm — thankfully her words are taken as a child’s ramblings to cope with the terror of being kidnapped. ALSO this is long, it kinda got away from me.
— continuation from this post
Wheeljack doesn’t know how to handle you. And you had been right — “Jack” doesn’t exist and instead his actual name is … well. Much too complicated for you to possibly say in his tongue, but the rough translation is Wheeljack, apparently.
You’d been surprised to wake up in a dark, rather chilly cave. You’d been surprised to wake up at all. Even more shocking, Jack had been sitting next to you with this oddly constipated expression on his face. Your mind is still reeling from waking up and your first instinct is to tease him for it. Then you remember everything and you scramble away with a terrified gasp. Your burns don’t sting when you move and your skin only bears faint marks that show you’d been injured at all.
His face is drawn up tight and pinched, as if he’d taken a bite out of a lemon. Those piercing, alien blue eyes are narrowed with some indiscernible emotion. It had always been difficult to tell exactly what he was feeling before and it’s no different here. For all you know, he’s debating on whether or not you’d make another tasty snack.
“I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He says first, holding up his hands. You find it ridiculous he’s still trying to pretend to be human and you make sure to tell him that. His face just gets more pinched. “Thought it’d be nicer than seein’ a dragon looming over you.”
So it’s true that what you’d seen really was him. And that he had eaten you and for some inexplicable reason, left you alive.
“You ate me.” Your words are fraught and tense.
“It was more of a swallow.” He points out. When you narrow your eyes at him, he relents, shoulders slumping. “Alright, fine. You weren’t going to be…” he trails off and waves a hand flippantly. You get the picture. “Dragons? We got a system going on in here — one stomach for stomach stuff, second for keeping things we find precious. Shiny treasure, hatchlings, hoard — things that shouldn’t be damaged. I-E, you. I swear to you on my life, you were okay. I ain’t ever going to hurt you.”
His gaze is pleading with you to understand. You take all of that in, internalize it, and let your crippling terror transition to fierce rage.
”You lied to me.” You are furious and you will not let him forget his deceit.
And that’s the start of Wheeljack’s ongoing, persistent, two week long headache. He is fully aware that it’s his fault too, which only makes it worse. He never expected to grow attached to a human the day he walked into your shop. Getting close to them was risky — too many things could go so wrong. But you had drawn him in and you had wanted to learn so much. It became more than just needing human enchantment work. Seeing the smoked out ruins of your little shop that had only ever brought him joy was... one of the worst things he’d witnessed. It had wrought something deeply, gutturally vicious in his chest. Had you died there, he was sure he would’ve gutted every single one of Starscream’s seekers and left their intestine sprawled out across the streets.
You had been innocent. Humans always were in their war against the neighboring factions. Wheeljack doesn’t regret taking you from that place. If he could go back, he’d do everything differently. Maybe he’d tell you earlier — dragon reputation be damned. You, in your kindness and your warmth, would hear him out at least. Sometimes he even considered it — when you were sleeping and he still had time left in his human form.
Alas, he’s made his proverbial bed and now he must lay in it. The best course of action would be to probably leave you at a safer human establishment. Instead of toting you with him to the Autobots (because really, they’re the ones who actually know how to take care of humans) he should’ve just made himself scarce. If he was a better drake, he would’ve let you live a life of peace. Without him there to ruin it.
But Wheeljack is a dragon. He never claimed to be a good person. You’re part of his hoard now — all of his most precious creations, all of his cherished, adored treasures and you belong right in the center of it all. Greed and possessiveness are adjectives that come along with a dragon’s name. His nature urges him to keep, to protect, to hold onto his hoard.
That being said, you are not making anything easy. He expected nothing less from you, but Allspark, it’s hard. You’ve lost everything near and dear to you and Wheeljack doesn’t hold your actions against you.
You refuse to speak to him unless absolutely necessary. Anything he does is met with a glare cold enough to freeze. When you do talk, your words are fierce and harsh. Half of the time, he thinks your face is permanently stuck in its scowl. You don’t even want to learn dragon enchantments anymore. In the privacy of his own mind, Wheeljack admits that one cuts deeper.
You still get scared around his dragon form. As much as he wishes he could walk around as a human forever for you, his magic is on a timer. Holding a form as long as he does is impressive in and of itself but even he can’t stay like that forever. He hates it when he hears your heart pulse double time any time you catch a glimpse of his claws. You try to act like it doesn’t affect you but Wheeljack knows. Of course he does. He tries to make himself scarce in those times. His instincts berate him for being such a terrible drake. What kind of dragon doesn’t take care of their hoard? What kind of dragon scares their precious treasures?
You sleep in a separate section of his cave, usually. Wheeljack can’t keep his human form while he sleeps and you don’t deserve to have to share a room with something that terrifies you. It rankles his instincts deeply — his hoard has to all be in one place, he has to be able to defend it — but he ignores them. To compromise with them, he makes your bed out of all the best pillows and silks in his hoard. It leaves his nest cold and hard but he can’t bring himself to care.
Sometimes you wake up screaming for a home that’s been burned down. When it’s late at night, your quiet gasps turn into muffled sobs. Wheeljack always has to wrestle with himself to stay in his nest. You don’t need him to comfort you. He’s sure he’d make it worse.
Wheeljack puts his foot down when you refuse to take food from him. You can be angry, hurting, hateful — all of that. But he’s not going to let you waste away. You can be furious at him with a full stomach and a well hydrated body.
The kids are mostly no help. Jack tells him that he should offer you part of his hoard. Giving away something like that is one of the most sacred things a dragon can possibly do — it’d be a solid recommendation if you were a dragon. It’d show his sincerity, his apology, and how badly he wishes you’d let him in. Raf wrinkles his soft nose and says that grooming you would help rebuild the bond. Wheeljack doubts that putting you anywhere near his mouth again would do any good. Miko informs him that he can regain your trust by showing his strength. That means that he should take you with him on his hunts — she probably wants him to kill the biggest thing in the area. Wheeljack wonders what the hell Bulk is teaching her.
In the end, patience is what leads to the slow decline of your fury. He lets you scream at him. You can hit him, you can tell him you hate him. He weathers it steadily. In the end, your anger drains away to reveal what really was hiding underneath — hurt, sadness, numb horror. Only then do you finally let him in. Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen for a while so Wheeljack settles in for the very long, tiring haul.
👀👀👀 please send transformers asks guys…. Dragonformers, merformers, any au 👀👀👀 (they can be vorish or not, I just need SOME outlet for this hyperfixation right now)
Did you at least write a heart on the brick before you threw it through my window or is the Wheeljack-shaped bruise on my head malicious /jk
Obsessed with Jackie reconvening with the autobots (in the hopes that they have more info on how exactly one is supposed to take care of a human considering they have their own miniature hoard of the things) and Ratchet (who I think it'd be v cute if he stayed human most of the time to have smaller more dexterous hands better for patching up his team even tho he hates it) sat there tearing Jackie a new asshole like you're lucky they weren't armed and blah blah you probably irreversibly traumatized the poor thing blah blah danger blah blah irresponsible like this giant dragon is getting scolded by just some random old man
some dragon!Wheeljack art because I couldn’t help myself (and some additional doodles)
You’re so right!!! It’d make sense why ratchet would need to small at times (to blend in, to grab human supplies, to get into tough to reach corners) and the thought of him berating the shit out of Wheeljack is absolutely hilarious. Like, REALLY, Wheeljack you couldn’t think of another safer way to transport your human??? What the fuck is wrong with you, the poor thing shakes every time you look at them . I like the visual of a three story tall dragon being cowed by Some Human (Ratchet’s dragon form dishes out some pretty harsh tail smacks too — Wheeljack knows personally).
Meanwhile, Wheeljack’s human is just sitting there as Ratchet fusses over them, horrendously confused at the fact that some old man is relentlessly scolding a mythical beast. Wheeljack’s trying to defend himself — dragon saliva helps heal burns (especially those caused by dragon fire) and his human was absolutely covered in them! Wheeljack didn’t want them to go into shock, alright?? (There’s no point, ratchet whacks him anyway)
Thoughts on dragonformers? I feel like wheeljack would be a very cool candidate ...
Au where Wheeljack is a dragonformer ... you think you've met a genius albeit odd human with a knack for inventing and Wheeljack is thrilled that he's found a human who can keep up with him. (vore warning!)
(I had to reupload this because I didn’t post it with the dang ask talking about dragonformers smh. Here’s how I think a dragonformers situation with Wheeljack would go )
(Part 2)
—
Imagine living in a bustling, lively city. Your little enchanted hardware shop isn't always busy but you do quality work and your customers are always satisfied. There are certain dangers that come with living here -- the occasional mugging, a few shady goblin dealers and of course, hoard-seeking dragons that set everything on fire but you wouldn't abandon it for the world. Your customers ask for a variety of things -- a pot that self heats, gears that turn on their own, parts that never rust, etc. You're happy to deliver -- for a price, of course.
Newcomers are common and travelers often pass through, so you're not surprised by the masked man who comes in one quiet afternoon. Not until he looks up, and his eyes ... unsettle you. He looks human but your instincts prickle. There's just something slightly off. Maybe his eyes are too bright a blue, or his smile is too sharp. Maybe the way he moves is too graceful and too quiet. His voice is rough and his words are sleek. His pupils almost seem slitted -- but surely its just the lighting.
But customers are customers and rent doesn't pay itself. His request is strange -- explosives. He wants them enchanted to blow up big things. His smile is cutting when you ask why.
"Dragon hunting.” He leans closer over your counter. His blue eyes are so vibrant that your head feels oddly woozy. “I need these to be strong enough to pierce through dragon scale.”
Dragon hunting is suicide. Nobody can bring down those things. They're less of actual creatures and more like acts of nature. You can't stop a tornado or a flood. You can't stop a dragon.
You want to refuse on principle. Not only is his goal impossible, an enchantment like that takes incredible time. Even though your hands itch with the intriguing task, you shake your head ... until he reaches into his bag and sets down a giant gold bar. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull— That alone could cover you for a full year.
Still, some part of you hesitates -- but ultimately it's him who spurs you on.
"I know some techniques myself. Tell you what -- I'll even help you. I'd do it myself... except me an' huma— normal magic don't mix." He tells you. When you still don't seem convinced, he taps the gold bar and waggles his eyebrows. "And I got plenty more where this came from. Consider this my down payment, huh?"
That's how you get to know Jack. You work alongside him and you quickly realize this: He's absolutely brilliant, possibly insane, and an utter genius. Jack teaches you spells that make your paltry enchantments look dull in comparison. It’s not like learning from a book -- you're learning raw power and how to bend it to your will. They're inventive and shouldn't work but somehow, they do. They're clearly his own creations and he's so good that any upper echelon enchantist would salivate at the thought of getting their hands on this information. You can’t believe the wealth of knowledge he wields — it’s more valuable than any gold he offers you.
He does have his oddities. When his hands are full, he pauses awkwardly, as if missing another limb to grab more. He always seems so curious about the local infrastructure, like he's never been around this type of architecture. He doesn’t eat around you, despite the long hours you both work together. He leaves and enters at precisely the same time every noon and evening. When you brush against his body, you get a tingly shiver that feels like a miniature shock. And late at night, if you squint hard and the shadows are just right, his form doesn’t quite seem… right. .
Jack grows on you, though. He's sarcastic, relaxed and has a sharp bite of humor that perfectly aligns with your own. He's an excellent teacher and even when he goes off on long-winded tangents, you find yourself paying rapt attention. Against your expectations he becomes an acquaintance, then a friend, then someone you look forward to seeing every day. He's warm under his seemingly aloof exterior and he seems to especially enjoy how curious you are about his strange processes. Once you pierce through that rough facade, you discover a person deeply loyal to those he cares about. When you fall asleep at your work bench, you always wake up with a blanket draped over your shoulders. You joke and smile. You wonder if he'd ever consider becoming one of your employees.
Maybe thats why you overlook all of his quirks.
You wish you didn't, the day dragons raze your beloved city to the ground. That morning, the sky is orange from the plumes of fire and smoke pouring into the atmosphere. You don't know why they do it. Those red-eyed creatures with devastatingly sharp teeth plunder and ruin your home. People scream and flee as gigantic terrors set everything ablaze. Everyone is helpless. You can't fight a natural disaster. You can't fight dragons. You get trapped in your shop as fire eats through your entrance and blocks off your exit, sealing you into a searing tomb. Your eyes water as smoke pours from the flames and you can hardly breathe air without choking on it. With burning lungs, you pray Jack made it out of the city.
Like your thoughts summoned him, an achingly familiar timber rings out thunderously from the entrance of your shop.
"Frag it all — kid! Kid, you in there? Kid!" Jack shouts. His shadow dances outside the mirage of flames, distorted and massive. Half of you wants to cry, the other wants to laugh in despair. He came back for you and now you'll both be doomed in these ruins. "Answer me!”
His voice is so loud that it almost sounds like a roar. You drag yourself toward its general direction. "Jack, leave! You have to --," you cough raggedly, "you have to get out of here! Just go!!"
There's a pause and you hope he took your advice. Flaming splinters rain down ominously from your roof and you whimper as it creaks under some unseen weight. Then a gigantic claw tears through the ceiling of your shop, ripping through the smoking wood with ease. You scream as a dragon slides its giant head into the gap. Its shining blue eyes lock onto you immediately and ridiculously, your dazed mind notes that they’re not the same cruel crimson eyes as the others. Then its mouth splits into a jagged, horribly toothy grin that has your heart stuttering in your chest.
"Allspark, I was ‘fraid you were one of the bodies out here." It rasps, and your hands grow cold. That's Jack's voice. You'd recognize its iconic low roughness and slow drawl anywhere. It had once brought you comfort and joy — and in the moment, it still does. The instinctive spark of relief dies out quickly as you gaze up at him unbelievingly. You want to scream. Realization dawns on you, sickening and nauseating. Oh gods. Gods above, help you.
"…No, no, no," you whisper, taking a step back, "you can't be. You can't."
The dragon's expression flickers to something almost-- guilty? Forlorn, maybe.
"I'm sorry." He says quietly, then his snout dips down, those terrible jaws opening widely. You scream as he lifts you out of the smoking wreckage, razor sharp teeth pinching carefully at your shirt's scruff. He glances up at the sky warily, the shifting frills on the sides of his head flaring in and out slightly. You want to scream at him to put you down. That you refuse to be hauled off with one of the creatures that ravaged your home and killed your fellow men. You kick and squirm and his eyes narrow as dragon-shaped shadows flit across the razed ground.
You don't get the chance as his mattress sized tongue slips out and draws you gently into his maw. You're swallowed up whole by the terrible beast who you thought was your friend. Betrayed and hurt and angry and so awfully mournful. You’ve lost everything. That creature isn't Jack. Maybe there never was a Jack to begin with. You're tucked into a space that’s dark and warm and soft, but you register none of it. You're just food.
Wheeljack prays you'll forgive him for lying to you. Prays that you'll forgive him for not being able to save your home from 'Cons. You'll be safe with him. Happy, though? He doubts it. All he can do now is bundle you carefully in his storage stomach and get the hell out of the smoking ruins of your home.
Also! You are (horribly) reminding me that I think Ratchet would make both the best and worst pred ever. Constantly worrying even if he's pretending very very hard not to, absolutely does not want to eat filthy little organics (look. He's seen what the Prime kids do in their spare time and they're all disgusting) but the image of a little squished human haunts him, all around a bad time for him
YESS poor ratchet 🥲 the thought of eating a human and getting their gross organic bacteria all inside his systems is super off putting but at the same time, he's worried about some Con going for one of the kids. There's no way he could possibly allow them to be hurt or squashed but eufhhhshhhhhhh GROSS. he's conflicted on the whole thing. If he were to eat someone it'd probably be Raf. Personal headcanon that that kid is a germaphobe (like me cough cough). Despite the fact that he's eager to leave Earth behind in the beginning, he grows to love the little planet and the kids ☹️☹️☹️ its really sweet he stays behind with them at the end of s3
Wheeljack, having just irreversibly changed his own brain chemistry: I'm sure it's fine
LOL there are consequences to eating organics Wheeljack >:(( you might get overly attached and unlock dormant subroutines that make you uncomfortably and incredibly aware of how fragile your little friend is!!
Lemme specify starscream from tfp what are your thoughts on him
fun! I like Starscream a decent amount and his voice actor did a terrific job making him so distinct. I wish his writing was more consistent though. Like, let him be cool!! Let him have awesome moments!! At times I even wondered how the hell this guy was ever SIC to the Decepticons since his schemes don’t work all that often. I always thought he had the direct opposite of plot armor — nothing goes right for him.
definitely would eat someone as a show of power. And then feel disgusted with himself because he ate a gross organic.
I'm listening to this while writing this so I think happy thoughts
Cough so I wrote that at like 12 AM so I need to add in a few few things
Ehem.
Ok so where I got that idea was kinda from the Au whos name shall not be spoken unless with my bsf,
And I say unspeakable because we made it ourselves and it's genuinely INSANE, I'd be here for hours mentioning 100% EVERYTHING. And I'm not that soo
Anyways the basis of that AU was "hey what if instead our boyfri- I mean cybertronians went to Earth, humans went to Cybertron??" Because we both knew literally the point of Tfone was to have none of those guys but we tried to see if it's possible to make it good WITH them y'know
So like an experiment!!
AAANYWAYS, the way I got it is because in THAT AU Sentinel has a kid. Well, not a kid, but a teen. 16.
Not biological, and you're right (throws tomato at you knowing you're right) he SUCKS. And we knew that! So...we had to make it as forceful as possible and make it quite literally a situation he can't back out of
I don't like talking about OC's cuz then it feels like yapping but wtv, I'ma just call her H for short (Heather)
Part of that AU is not that humans are like. Hiding. It's like the opposite with some shady ass guy making shady ass deal with Sentinel (cough cough trafficking) and us sad pathetic lil creatures got (some, like 1/6) planet to legally own because Earth is GONE.
But the thing is they purposefully just. Have very very little rules. Like honestly both species kinda ignore eachother because well. "Who cares. Not like we see them much anyways." - thought process of both species
But for the idiots that don't..
Ok it gets a little darker starting from here grah, I'm trying to shorten it I SWEAR
Remember when I coughed abt trafficking
Yeah
That happens
And our H here was a silly victim of that :D
But instead of like. Being sold to metal guys like any other person in there, she got experimented on for a very long time and long story short she becomes very traumatized and she's the semi - successful attempt to make a human immortal, she can live much longer now but she can still die.
Anyways she got the FUC out of there.
Now now it's probably not healthy to have your entire bloodstream replaced with Energon so you're a walking drug now :D (beats me up like a baseball bat hitting a watermelon)
Anyways
Sentinel, who in this AU RUNS THIS TRAFFICKING THING, gets notified that "hey, one of our guys ESCAPED. And is on the LOOSE. If it's seen we're COOKED."
"Ah, crap"
Little does he know
Long story VERY shortened because I'm genuinely worried this is too long now
He finds her, she threatens to murder him in his sleep (she 100% would've), and because she's pretty much alone and has her own dreams or wtv she basically forces him to (not legally!) adopt her
So how does that go? Well uh
At first, it's like "ew no crazy ahh creature"
Then he notices she's very useful in doing like government stuff (idk what the government does, taxes??) and can understand Cybertronian to a certain extent (since she was stuck in probably the most horrible place stuck with guys that speak it), and figures she's useful so why not let her live? Since it's for his benefit anyways
Yeah he's still a jerk to her here, like dehumanizing or wtv but she can always counter it and knowing she's not getting killed because she's too good at her job, even if he threatened to shoot her she just. Frog blinks and flips him off.
She also ragebaits him heh. He deserves it and she knows it since he's the guy that made the trafficking stuff she was stuck in
Eventually, eventually, (like this takes like..3 years? Ish?) they're pretty much ok with eachother, NOT trying to murder each other (at least ALL the time), and H pretty much helps him with evil stuff because in her words, "It's fun". In return (because she would murder him in his stasis if she caught he wasn't doing anything in return) she gets to be spoiled and they go get ice cream together :D
Also she has a tf persona that glazes the FUH out of him, like a vtuber, like in that AU the commenter for the Iacon 5000 is replaced with her
And yes Airachnid's the mom
So the only reasons she's even there is because she quite literally forced Sentinel, Sentinel wanted to keep her secret for y'know, PR reasons so he doesn't get exposed and like, if she's saying "lemme stay and if you attempt killing me right now I will slit your throat before you can even react" WITH A FATAL KNIFE ON HIS THROAT ACTIVELY CUTTING IN, well, might as well. Right?
So from "Ewewew" to "huh. Cool ig.", to "Omg you hit the second tower!!! C'mon let's go to the mall :D"
Yeah
Cough ok that was too much yapping, I've been here for almost an hour
God I'm so SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭😭😭
I don't even know if it's understandable, I'm not reading that lmaoo
Ok bye..has a basket of tomatoes ready
this is a very elaborate alternate universe and I’m not exactly sure how to respond. I see where you’re coming from and in this timeline, Sentinel could probably grow to love this human as his own. Evil daughter and evil father duo coupled with rough angsty beginnings is the vibe I’m getting off of this
Summary - Guru magazines say that the wilderness is supposed to be relaxing. When you and Wheeljack run into a Decepticon mining op, you become very much not relaxed. (WARNING - this contains soft, safe, protective vore. If this isn’t your thing, move on!)
AN - okay i usually don’t do requests but I already had a small thing with Wheeljack made so i decided to finish it LOL. Also nice nero pfp!!
—
Some part of you wishes you stayed back at the Jackhammer. A giant chunk of lumber whizzes past you, spraying the ground with smoking splinters. But you just had to tag along with Wheeljack’s energon retrieval mission. The cracked half of an oak is flung six feet away from your hiding spot, sending plumes of dirt up into the air. Curled up behind the safest rock you can find, you’re seriously reconsidering your choices.
Cybertronian energy blasts have a distinct scent to them. It smells like pure lightning, ozone, and fire all wrapped in one flesh-melting bolt of death. That cloying haze fills the cluttered forest you’re taking cover in. Not that it helps that much, since Wheeljack and the band of Vehicon’s he’s scrapping just plow through the greenery. The pros of being a giant alien robot, you think to yourself nearly hysterically. Just bowl over anything in your way, right?
The hairs of your neck prickle warningly and you dive to the left on instinct. A glowing crimson bullet sears through rock you were hiding behind, carving a molten trail though the minerals. Your heartbeat pounds in your chest like a drum, ringing loudly in your head. You need to get out of here. Get clear, like Wheeljack told you to before everything started blowing up.
The energon vein he detected had been small. By all means, it was meant to be a quick in and out excursion. Far in the depths of California wilderness, civilization is at least a good number of miles away. If anything, this was supposed to be a good way for you to stretch your legs and relax in the beauty of nature. A bush catches fire next to you as the ground rumbles with incoming footsteps. Oh, how wrong you’d been. Apparently the exposed cluster had been connected to a hidden Energon mine occupied with Decepticons.
“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself as you hurry to another tree, “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Through the gaps in the treeline, you can see Wheeljack brutally slamming a Vehicon’s head into the ground with a loud crack. He ducks a swing from one behind him and stabs it with one of his katanas. It goes through the ‘Con’s chestplate with a splatter of toxic blue goop. Another tackles him from the front.
Some part of you wishes you could help him out somehow but considering that you’ll probably go squish if you tried, there’s not much you can do. Wheeljack can probably handle himself anyways, judging off of the way he dismantles these grunts. If anything, you can help him by staying out of the way.
You intend to, you really, genuinely do.
It isn’t your fault that the fight decides to come to you. Something sickeningly heavy slams into the tall tree you’re hiding behind. Leaves fall and branches crack and you’re given a second to roll out of the way. The trunk slams down, missing you by a couple of feet. If your brain wasn’t numb, maybe you would’ve screamed. Unfortunately, you’re too distracted by the red glow casting over you. The giant Vehicon is a mechanical mass of horror. The harsh crimson glow of its visor is fixed upon you like a spotlight. Half of its helm is dented inward from one of Wheeljack’s crippling kicks but it’s still alive.
And you are a very easy target.
“Wheeljack!” You scream, somehow managing to evade the first grab. Its metallic fingers dig deep grooves into the earth where you were standing. The Vehicon snarls and it’s a terrible, animalistic sound. Wheeljack’s helm jerks upward immediately, zeroing in on you with pinpoint accuracy.
“Hold on, kid!” He yells back and throws off the Vehicon futilely trying to wrestle him down. You almost screech at him — how the hell are you meant to “hold on” in a situation like this? Some long dormant survival instincts tell you to back up. Any space between you and this monster from outer space sounds great.
The Vehicon gets up and slams its pede down, trying to crush you into a tiny red splatter. The impact rocks the ground, flattening the grass down in an imprint of your impending death. You’re not Wheeljack — you’re certainly not a Cybertronian. It’s only natural that you can’t dodge forever. It blocks off your escape route with one servo, then uses its other to snatch you up in a lung-crushing hold.
If you strain your ears, you think you can hear your ribs creak. You think about what they’ll write on your tombstone. Here lies a pathetic little human who tried to run with the big bots. May you rest in a squishy heap. You squeeze your eyes shut.
Then the servo you’re being squeezed in slackens. There’s a flash of metal and the Vehicon’s wrist is sliced clean through. Holy shit, you think. For a split second, the familiar blue glow of Wheeljack’s optics sends waves of relief crashing over you. Then gravity kicks in and you begin to fall. Your shriek gets caught in your throat, strangled and terrified before you land safely in an outstretched servo.
This one’s grip is incredibly gentle compared to before. Wheeljack peers down at you then cracks a grin when you heave a quick breath.
“Hey there, kiddo. Still kickin’?” He asks, cradling both of his katanas in his other servo.
“Maybe. I think so.” You reply weakly. His optics narrow nearly imperceptibly at the giant bruises already forming over your arms. You don’t even want to see your ribs — you already can envision the mess of mottled purple and yellow. There’s a shift of movement behind him and you sit up. “Look behind —!”
Wheeljack cups you close to his chassis and twists. The one-handed Vehicon is promptly sent flying into its colleague as he kicks it away. The movement almost makes you sick. With all the action you’ve seen today, it’s a miracle you haven’t lost your lunch. Wheeljack shifts behind the cover of a massive rock, seemingly at ease despite the blaster fire battering it.
”I got bad news. I need both servos to fight and it ain’t safe if I hold you.” He informs you breezily, keeping you cradled to his chassis. His servo curls around you carefully, thumb pressed against your back. Just barely, you can make out the faint hum of his engine. “But I can’t let ya go running around either. Makes this real slaggin’ tough.” Wheeljack doesn’t sound too concerned despite the direness of his words. Hopefully that means he has an idea of what to do.
“Okay, so what’s going to happen?” You ask hoarsely. Wheeljack stares at you for a second. His gaze feels distinctly calculating. Typically, you only see that type of expression when he’s focused on his precious explosives.
”You ain’t gonna like it. Sorry in advance.” Wheeljack tells you calmly. You only have a moment to wonder what the hell he’s talking about before his intake opens widely. Then you’re abruptly being shoved inside. For a second, your mind struggles to process how you got from Point A to Point B. You hear the click of dentae behind you and the surface you’re resting on — his glossa, flexes. Synthetic saliva pools in his maw and soaks into your clothes. You never considered what the inside of a Cybertronian’s mouth feels like but it’s startlingly warm.
The silicone-like appendage rises and you slide down its slippery tilt. Ahead, you can see a dark cavern. A throat — or the robot alien equivalent to it. It’s disturbingly human and you can see a faint blue glow emanating from the very back. Everything is the same shade of gunmetal gray — your numb brain can’t comprehend it. Then you slip down further toward that throat and your instincts kick in.
“Wheeljack, you asshole!” You screech, trying to stop your descent with a quick flurry of your hands and feet. The gooey artificial drool slicks your grasping fingers and makes it impossible to even think about backing out. You twist around, trying to desperately grab onto something— anything that might help you pull yourself free. Then everything curves as Wheeljack tilts his helm back and pushes you further toward his gullet. The inorganic muscles around you flex and you lunge, hooking your arms around the underside of his glossa. “Don’t you dare. Don’t do it, or I swear to god —“
You don’t get to finish your statement before he swallows once. With an audible glrrk, you spiral down into his internal systems. The deeper you slide, the brighter that blue glow gets. His biolights flicker faintly, embedded in his throat as you’re squeezed down into his stomach.
You’re dumped into some sort of spacious area, lined with dim lights that cast cyan highlights onto the surrounding walls. You’re really inside him. Wheeljack seriously ate you. You don’t even have time to become furious about it before the tank walls begin to shift. The artificial muscles clench and squeeze, and you’re swept deeper into the soft insides. The ground beneath you is firm-ish but still has some give to it. It reminds you that Cybertronians aren’t just robots — they’re mechanical aliens. You don’t get to dwell on that as you’re unceremoniously bundled against the softer walls.
The ground — can you even call it that? — rises up against you and more of that clear oral lubricant pools at the bottom of his tank. You squirm against it, but have to stop as everything lurches. Wheeljack grunts and you can hear a muffled explosion outside. You had almost forgotten in your shock what you had been dealing with before.
“Ugh…This’ll be a bumpy ride so sit tight.” Wheeljack’s voice is so loud from where you’re curled up. Booming and muffled at the same time — the effect is pretty trippy. You can feel his EM field lapping over you and you realize belatedly that you’re so much closer to his spark. On the outside, you can feel faint flickers from his field, though only when you’re pressed against his chassis. Here? It’s so much more intense. It’s a blend of warmth and indecipherable alien emotion you can’t possibly comprehend clearly, but it radiates familiarity. That’s probably the only reason why you haven’t freaked out yet. “I gotcha, kid. Don’t worry about nothin’”.
With nothing else to do, you just close your eyes and try to wait it out.
—
Wheeljack makes sure to methodically decimate every single ‘Con infesting the energon mine. He saves the one that nearly crushed you for last — his blades make the Vehicon’s rejoining the Allspark especially painful. It’s a useful asset to seize, even though it’s relatively small. If Bulkhead’s report was accurate, then the Autobots could use some of this fuel. Wheeljack doesn’t particularly like Prime, but it’s not like he wants their faction to collapse in on itself. So he sends them the coordinates after pinning the location in his own processor.
That leaves him with one more thing to tidy up. He raps his knuckles against his abdominal plating. “Hey, kid. You doin’ fine?” His tank squeezes faintly at the little weight curled up there. He had taken some harsh hits — nothing he can’t buff out himself, but you probably didn’t appreciate it. Frag, you probably don’t appreciate him much at all right now.
There’s a pause and for a moment, Wheeljack is concerned. Then he feels you shift.
“I’m alive. Fine? I don’t know. This is really weird.” You sound a little spooked — which is understandable. Wheeljack himself is — was, shaken up. His spark had seized in its chamber when he saw you clutched in that ‘Con’s servo. You’re a fragile creature compared to his own species and the thought of you going splat because he fragged up is …
Wheeljack vents in a quick breath to cool his systems. It didn’t happen. You’re bruised and probably aching but you’re alive. Stuff like that heals with time. Death doesn’t. He resolves himself right then and there, that if you’re going to die, it’ll be when you’re wrinkled and gray.
“Dire times, kid. I’ll getcha outta there and we’ll patch you up.” He says, sheathing his blades. A grim flicker of satisfaction tingles through his spinal struts at the energon staining them. Wheeljack clenches his interior actuators. His insides flex and you’re brought back up to his intake. He cups his servos to his mouth and lets you roll out with a little flick of his glossa.
You’re pretty soaked in his oral lubricant (whoops) and a little banged up but you still have enough fire to glare up at him exhaustedly. A tiny glimmer of fondness ripples through him. Then he catches sight of the bruises again and his field flickers with something dark.
“I did not like that. You better tell me what you’re doing before you — you do it.” You tell him angrily, if not quietly. You seem pretty tired out, like you don’t have the will to be louder.
“It was like rippin’ off a bandage. Bandaid. Whatever you call it. S’better if you’re quick about it.” He says, bringing you up to the junction between his shoulder pauldrons and neck cables. You clamber on slowly and narrow your eyes at him harshly. “Okay, fine, fine. I ain’t gonna do somethin’ like that before lettin’ you know. Happy?”
”Ecstatic.” You drawl slowly. He ignores the swell of emptiness in his tank as you settle in against him. He’s probably just low on fuel. It doesn’t have anything to do with the new subroutines popping up at the back of his processor. Probably.
He puts it out of mind and begins the walk back to the Jackhammer. Wheeljack will figure all of that out later.
