#sentinel writes

[angelicsentinel]

Not Time's Fool

art by @chiikichai

fic by @angelicsentinel

Woo! It's that time of year again when big bang previews go out. I hit my millionth word in dcmk this fic by a country mile. It's a whopping 75k+!

Time travel was a siren song I couldn't resist even after I told myself I'd never do this again. Tune in this August for an action-packed time travel AU with some absolutely incredible art by the ever amazing Chii!)

@kaishinbigbang

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

‼️Transformers One spoilers‼️

"Oh but why was Optimus okay with Bee killing all those guys in the fight but not okay with Megatron killing Sentinel? He's so hypocritical!"

No, no he's not. It's about the context and situation.

Optimus was okay with Bee killing those bots during the fight because they were fighting and posed an active threat to their lives. Optimus was against Megatron killing Sentinel because they weren't in danger, and the battle had already been won. They had exposed Sentinel's crimes and deception to all of Iacon and destroyed his rule over Cybertron.

Remember, Optimus uses the word "execution" because that's what killing Sentinel was. It wasn't to save anyone or keep themselves safe. It was to send a bloody message of violent vengeance against those who wrong Megatron. That's why Optimus didn't want him to kill Sentinel and why Megatron killing Sentinel was his point of no return.

[starliights-shining]

tf one sentinel prime… idek what to ask for specifically 😥 him being jealous maybe??

Hiiiii GOOD DAY!!! I do hope this is what you were and are looking for. It took me like a whole day to figure out how to start this but I GOT IT.

Pairing: TF1!Sentinel Prime x FEM!Reader

Warnings: Fingering, jealousy, jealous Sentinel and uhhh Sentinel prime is a warning of itself.

Your stabilizing servos carried you swiftly through the hall of the Iacons medical center. You were looking for those two Mining bots who were in the Iacon 5000. You just wanted to get to them before you dearly beloved Sentinel Prime does. At least to congratulate them before him and give them the praise from those who claim a Prime as their conjux. Your optics looking room to room looking. People stopped to speak to you but you just smiled and continued to tell them you’d “catch up with them in a little.” Which was a complete lie, You just wanted to meet those mining bots. Your optics finally landed on them. Sitting there bantering between each other as you opened the door. They stopped, optics locking onto you. 

“Hi.” 

You shyly waved. Your servo reached out to them attempting to shake it. 

“I know I’m not Sentinel, but I just wanted to say what you two did is super impressive. I liked it.” 

They both stood up out of their shock smiling and each shaking your servo. They both smiled at you. Orion Pax sighs in relief when he realizes you are not going to scold him and D-16 for their actions. 

“Had me a little worried, Mrs. (Y/N). I thought you were sent down here in place of Sentinel Prime. We were hoping the punishments wouldn't be as harsh,” 

You watched as a servo came up to reach for his helm and his optics looked away awkwardly. Then D-16 stepped in to speak. His first words being an apology, and babbling about how it was all Orion's idea. You clasped your servos together in front of you and listened to him. Orion Pax occasionally chiming in to say something which would lead to more banter. You laughed, their dynamic was fresh and freeing. It reminded you of your first few decades with Sentinel and how you two would do stupid things and be scolded by higher ups to stop. 

They both continued their banter, not stopping until the door behind you opened and in stepped Arachnid her optics looking at all three of you before speaking. 

“It’s clear, especially since (Y/N) is here.” 

And around the corner came Sentinel Prime. His optics land on you first and then the miner bots. 

“I appreciate you finding them dear.” 

A servo was placed on your pelvis as he leaned in to kiss the side of your helm. HIs attention quickly turned to them, taking over the conversation and praise. You stood quietly behind the Prime. Listening as he spoke and said a bunch of nothing to them. They had taken a pause Prime thinking about what to say next before you butted in. 

“I must go, but you two Miner bots were very impressive out there. I hope to see more from you two.” 

Your voice was soft, Sentinel took note of that, You don't speak to him with that soft of a voice anymore. He felt a burning jealousy in his spark as he put on a fake smile as you retreated elsewhere. Your processor forced on what you were going to do when you left the medical center, You might as well make your way to the data pad archive. 

Your servos grabbing at the first data pad that caught your attention. Digits thumbing and optics scanning through the words. Old writing with new writing explaining things and making comments on them. You took processor notes, pointing out things that made sense and things that didn't. That was until the loud noise of the door opening caught your attention. It sounded like someone was slamming it shut. Your helm swiveled around to find the culprit and they were making their way to you quickly. He was walking with a purpose. His optics looking darker than normal HIs servos grabbed at you pushing you into the shelving behind you. His lips locking onto yours and kissing you with a passion. Your lips kissing back but not able to keep up. The data pad had fallen from your servos, making a clattering noise echo in the room. His servo moved to grip your lower jaw as he pulled back. Your own servos grabbing at his arm, He smirked at you. HIs digits turned your helm different ways as examined you. 

“You think they enjoyed hearing such praises from you, The gorgeous Conjux of the last Prime?”

His question was soft, but the tone of his words were harsh and almost insulted. How dare you give other bots the praise that belongs to him, the last prime of Cybertron. His tumb ran over your bottom lip stopping you from speaking. His optics looked down at you, removing his digit to let you speak. 

“You gave them the same praise, Sentinel. It is no different if another prime gave them the same praise.” 

He thinks for a moment you were right, but that jealousy still burns within his spark, but it's a different jealousy not the same he felt those years back over the Matrix of leadership. No, this was completely different, you were his. His conjux! You should only ever praise him, the spark or your life. His servo on your hips tightened, Lifting you up with ease. Your stabilizing servos wrapped around his waist arms looping around his upper chest plating. He moved you, turning around and placing you on the table surface. The cold surface makes you shiver almost as you think about the next actions and how they’ll go down. 

“I don't think you’re getting it, Sweetspark. You’re supposed to only praise me, Your Prime.” 

Now you understand what is going on, he's jealous, upset that two lowly miner bots got more acknowledgement than he's gotten in the megacycle. He’s not mad or angry, just jealous, he wants you to realize this one thing. You are his. His one and only. He lets go of your waist. A servos resting on your thigh guard causing your stabilizers to relax. Loosen around him, while his other servo pushed your chassis backwards. 

“Let me remind you, who your praise should always be going to.”

One of his servos makes its way between your stabilizers, two digits looking for that sweet spot before finally gaining access to your valve. He could feel the arousal leaking from you, collecting on his digits as he made small motions. His optics watching your face plating intently waiting for the exact moment you start to fall under the spell of his servos. Your lean back propping yourself up right just to be able to lean your helm on his shoulder plating, and if you look down enough you can see his digits making a mess of your valve. Your hips moving back and forth to meet him at least half and get more friction. He can tell that's what you're doing. 

Your helms back a bit and your mouth is left open as you let every single lewd noise out. No need to hold back when your Prime is the only person who can and will ever hear you. You move a bit down, your optics opening and locking with his.

“Frag,” 

It's barely heard under your moans and groans. He can see you getting close. An evil thought crossed his processor. His digits come to a slowing pace. Watching as you gasp and wiggle your hips to get friction back. Your optics open quickly and give him a sharp evil look. He shakes his head. 

“Come on, you know what you have to do to get more.” 

You couldn't believe it, he wants you to praise him so you can come on his servo. You don't even give it a second thought. Your mouth is fixing to say something but no words come out and all you can do is gasp and stare at the prime in front of you. 

“Imma need you to say something soon, Darling, or im stopping.” 

He knew what he was doing. Digits picking up in pace and slowing down just enough to keep you right there but not fully bring you over. He was cruel, cruel when he wanted something specific. Your processor can’t even think of anything to say to him. Not even a thank you seems good enough for him. Your mouth forms to say things but your processor can't force anything out, it seems to be out of words at this moment. He’s able to tell, optics watching as your life sits in his hands. He knows you have acknowledged your mistakes, but something in him just isn’t satisfied. He smiles down at you. 

“Spit it out, I know you can.” 

You close your optics, shaking your helm as your waist continues its motion. A servo is placed on your waist, pushing down to stop you from moving. That seemed to be all it took. A loud gasp leaving your mouth as you spoke shakily. 

“I’m sorry Prime, You're the only bot on whos able,” 

You paused, hips jerking up and a moan leaving you. 

“Only bot who impressed me. I'm so grateful, So grateful for your work to find the lead, leadership. Please.”

He can see the liquid pooling around your optics, that desperate sound in your vocalizer that hit his spike just the right way. It lights something within him, A primal urge to just let you have all of him. He lets out a small chuckle, his servo on your hips releasing you as his digits pick up speed.

“Good Girl, Good job.” 

His voice pushes you over in just the right way that sends jolts down your frame. Your frame shakes as your stabilizers lock around him. Your noises carrying around the room and hallways around. Your orgasm sends you shaking to prime, babbling incoherent praises in order to keep him going. You settle down a bit, taking deep breaths in as you lay all the back on the table. He pulls his digits from you, a shiver running over you after. Your optics looking down at him. You move your stabilizers, pulling them up on the table in a motion to almost getting up. His servos grab at your knee joints, stopping you. That same look in his eyes from before, as he whispers to you.

“I'm not done with you yet.” 

[brandwhorestarscream]

If d16 was carrying in the movie that could have saved him.

OOH I HAVE. THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS

Part 2 here, part 3 here, part 4 here!

Hear me out, ok. Sentinel Prime heavily, heavily advocates for chastity. He very publicly denounces casual intimacy, waxing poetic about how it's a very special thing that should only be shared with someone you truly love and trust. To give yourself away to a stranger in a one night stand or even casually to a friend is one of the greatest disservices one can do to themselves. Interfacing should only be done with your bonded mate. While it's certainly not illegal, their Prime's warm concern and insistence that they're all special and should be treated as such keeps a lot of mecha's panels closed. The vast majority of them are saving themselves for their conjunx endura.

Now, the real reason Sentinel doesn't want them having sex? He doesn't want them breeding. Specifically the lowest of society, he doesn't want his cogless servants sparking each other up and having babies with t-cogs. It would raise too many questions, and while he has no qualms about taking a newspark's cog out before they're presented to their parents, accidents happen. People slip up. Some sparklings come before their parents can get to a hospital. Some nutcases want home births because it's "more intimate and natural". Some just plain don't realize they're carrying until they start having contractions. Cogless bots popping out babies with cogs will only cause problems, so the best way to prevent such a thing is to convince them that chastity is their best option. Most of them die before they can find someone they want to be with forever, and even among those that do, they struggle to save up enough money for a bonding license. Keeping them repressed and chaste is just another means of his control.

Now, as for sweet D-16 >:) he practically worships Sentinel Prime. He has such blind adoration and trust in him. Orion adores him too, of course, but not quite on the same level. He doesn't look at Sentinel with the same stars in his optics, though certainly has boundless respect and admiration for him. When they're visited by the Prime post-Iacon 5000, they're invited up to his personal suite 👀

Consider: instead of getting immediately jumped by Darkwing, they actually do get escorted up there. It's grander than anything either of them have ever seen, a shining and spotless penthouse with a 360° view of the city, expensive chaises to lounge on and bottles of the finest, smoothest high grade, even a jacuzzi! Sentinel Prime meets them there, and, placing a gentle hand on each of their faces, purrs that he wants to reward them.

"I've never seen anything like what you two did today," D-16 whimpers at his praise, beaming sunshine, and Orion is awestruck. "Come... sit with me."

They follow their Prime obediently and he relaxes onto one of the lounges, pulling the two cute little miners down on either side of him. They talk--or rather, Sentinel talks and they hang onto his every word, each tucked under one of his arms and nestled close against his chassis--and eventually he pops a bottle of champagne and pours them each a glass. Neither Dee nor Orion have ever had such high quality energon before: it goes down thick and smooth and warm, sending a blast of heat through their little bodies that pool in their tummies and make them start to squirm and feel woozy. Sentinel prompts they drink the whole thing, each of them, and by the time they're done they're gasping and swaying. So strong! Too strong!

The Prime's huge blue servo slides onto D-16's face, admiring his dazed expression. His optics are flickering, shutters at their halfway point, and he's visibly flushed, mouth dropped open and pretty lips parted as he pants. Swaying gently back and forth like that, Sentinel can't resist. He leans down and kisses him, gentle but controlling, and D-16 makes an honest-to-Primes squealing noise.

As soon as Sentinel pulls back, Dee wavers and collapses back against the chaise, optics blown wide even as an uncontrollable smile splits his face. He starts giggling, covering his face and rocking back and forth as euphoria bubbles out of him in uncontrollable, adorable laughter. "Oh my stars-" he gushes. "Oh my stars omistars omistars wow...!" His first kiss has left him breathless and elated, barely able to speak, worship and the greatest joy imaginable shining in his optics.

Sentinel Prime has them, both of them, in his suite, over and over and over again. They're both virgins, have never touched another mech or been touched in turn, and their leader takes great revelry is breaking their seals. Fucking their tight little valves until they're wailing and cumming in his lap, sobbing in ecstasy into his neck, clumsily kissing at his plating and swearing that they adore him, they love him, please more, more, more! He frags them on the furniture, against the wall, on the floor, even in the hot tub. He has them both on their knees in front of him on the lounge, licking and sucking at his spike and pushing each other to lap up drops of his transfluid, asks them to use their mouths on each other while he watches. He even asks them to bear their sparks and they do: he doesn't share his own but he's glad to tease at theirs, and it reduces them to mewling little piles on the floor, twitching and rocking and moaning as they crash through overload after overload. Such beautiful little pets, so eager to please, he could definitely get used to having them around for awhile.

When their time comes to an end they've started to sober up, snuggled against his sides on one of the lounges, still whimpering and panting high on pleasure, excess charge making them woozy and giggly even though the high grade is nearly out of their systems. Airachnid arrives and doesn't even give them a passing glance, informing the Prime that it's time to depart. He sends them back to their home in the mines, promising to see them again soon, just as soon as he returns from his next crusade to the surface.

D-16 and Orion stumble home giggling and shoving each other, still adjusting their armor and poking at the paint transfers spattered all over them. They're euphoric, there's no other word for it, high as a kite on pleasure, on the knowledge that Sentinel Prime wanted them and they were able to satisfy him! No longer virgins and instead claimed by the Prime!

Their batchmates welcome them home with a cacophony of cheers and hugs and jostling--MINERS! In the RACE! Their very own brothers, in the Iacon 5000! And- wait, why are you two all wet...?

They weren't intending to tell everyone, but the way they look at each other and blush and start snickering and struggling to explain is telling enough. Ratchet is already approaching with a wrench to scold them, they know better than to let a moment of excitement cloud their judgement-

"Uh, w-well-"

"Sentinel Prime wanted to-"

"SENTINEL PRIME?!" The entire room screams out in shock at once, before the cheering resumes tenfold. Their batchmates got the attention of THE Sentinel Prime?! Sentinel Prime made love to their batchmates! A couple of miners got the attention and affection of their Prime! If they thought the Iacon 5000 was inspiring that's nothing compared to this: before you know it the entire sector is mining energon at a lightning fast pace and they've hit their quotas before shift is even a quarter of the way done.

Orion and D-16 happily get to work as well, eager to do their best so that when their dashing Prime returns to them, they can tell him about how hard they worked and how much energon they mined and how well everyone is going to eat because of them!

When Sentinel Prime suddenly returns and orders triple shifts, they're surprised. Very surprised. It's not like him at all! Pretty soon the miners are running on no sleep and little fuel, some are injured and being denied time for repair and seek medical treatment. And D-16, despite his best efforts, is starting to fall behind after several weeks of the brutal demands. He's getting dizzy which he attributes to the lack of recharge. His servos keep dropping things even when he's sure he has a tight grip on them. He's nauseous, all the time, and multiple times a shift stumbles away from the rest of his crew to gag and vomit in a corner of whatever energon vein they're currently working in. Orion tries to get him to slow down, to stop, because he's clearly sick and needs medical care, but Dee isn't willing to stop. "Sentinel Prime needs us, Pax! We can't stop now!"

It all comes to a head as they're dragging themselves out of a tunnel with a full load of raw energon to be refined. D-16 suddenly stumbles, clamping one servo over his mouth and running off to the side. Orion hurriedly follows him after making sure Ironhide and Jazz have got the minecart.

"Hey, easy, easy-" he comes to rub his back as his best friend bends over, servos braced on his knees and body already rolling with slow, threatening heaves. He moans that he doesn't want to, he's so sick of purging, it hurts, please Primus, not today! "C'mon, just, let it out. You'll feel better once it's out, Dee."

D-16 groans and hunches over further, arms wrapping around his middle. "No... Primes, please- hgk-!"

"OI!" A miserably familiar voice suddenly bellows behind them, and Orion's sympathetic expression drops to sheer annoyance. Oh, no. "YOU TWO! Whaddo you think you're doin'?!" Darkwing is storming up to them. "Sentinel Prime wants his energon, so GET BACK TO WORK!"

"Darkwing, please," for once Orion is polite, one servo still braced on his friend's back. "D-16's sick, he needs-"

"I don't CARE what you think he needs!" Their superior roars, grabbing them both by the shoulders and forcing then around to face him. "I said, get back to-"

Dee promptly hurls all over the slagger's pedes.

He can't hold it anymore, but he tries, clamping both servos over his mouth even as he purges again. Half-digested energon splashes through his fingers and sprays all over Darkwing's chassis, who roars in disgust and backpedals away from him. Dee crumples to his knees, gagging, both servos planted on the floor before he throws up one final time, emptying his already meager tanks and ejecting a puddle of digestive acid that burns at his throat. It dribbles out of the vents on his neck and nasal ridge, and he sobs. Primus, he feels so sick!

Darkwing's response, naturally, is to grab them both and throw them down to sublevel 50 😌 there they meet B-127, and the plot kicks off, though a bit later than before. They make it to the surface and set out to find the Matrix. The journey is significantly longer with D-16's condition, constantly having to stop so he can rest or purge. Orion, at one point, offers to carry him, and Dee is too miserable to protest. Let's Orion gently hoist him onto his back and promptly passes out with his helm on his shoulder. He's overly warm, Orion notices: feverish, surely a sign that he's getting worse. They need to find the Matrix, soon. Maybe it can help cure Dee's sickness! And if not, well, once energon flows again they won't have to mine, and D-16 will be able to see a doctor as soon as they get home. They'll get him the medicine he needs and he'll be just fine.

When they finally arrive at the Grave of the Primes, D-16 is in bad shape. Shaking like a rust rattler, dry heaving because there's nothing left in his systems to throw up, and very hot to the touch. Orion nor Elita nor B-127 have ever seen a mech in quite such a miserable state, and they're all very worried. Orion sits him down on a rock and tells him to rest, and D-16 just hunches over, helm between his knees and arms folded over his head, the epitome of misery. Whimpering softly and praying to the Primes to please, please, make it stop. Whatever this virus is that's tormenting him, please just make it stop!

Then, they find and awaken Alpha Trion.

The Prime notices Dee's condition. Immediately. He can see it, an invisible aura none but the divine can see: this young mech hosts a precious newspark inside of him. Before he tells them the story of what happened, he opts to examine the little one. He's so young, probably too young to be a carrier yet, but he's undeniably sparked. A few decacycles along.

He tells them what's going on, why D-16 is so grievously ill. "Your sparkling is starving," he tells him seriously. "You are not receiving enough donations. Their protoform is cannibalizing your body, that is the root of your sickness. Where... is the sire? He or she should be caring for your needs."

All four of them are staring at Alpha Trion with their mouths open. D-16 is carrying?! He's pregnant?! But who-

Elita one punches Orion in the face as hard as she can, sending him sprawling into the dirt with a cry of surprise. "OW! What the-"

"You slagger!" She plants one pede on his chassis and presses down til she hears metal creak and he goes 'ow ow ow!'. "It was you, I know it was you! Who else would be so dumb?! You got him sparked up and haven't been taking care of him?! You worthless deadbeat! I should rip your fragging denta out with pliers! One at a time! I should!"

"Omigosh, Dee," behind her, B-127's voice has gone airy and light in excitement. He comes up to the silver mech's side, grabbing his servo to squeeze. "Congrats, dude! You're gonna be a mom!"

D-16, for his part, is sat there in shock. Shoulders dropped and loose, mouth hanging open, staring at Alpha Trion with his optics so wide they're at liberty to pop right out of the sockets and need recalibrating. "I'm..." his voice is barely above a whisper, shaking servos drifting toward his tummy. "You mean- I'm-?!"

He's starting to smile, joy bubbling up in his chest. Excitement, too. And terror. And a million other things that he can't name because he's too shocked, but suddenly despite how sick he feels he can't help but start to laugh. Delight blooms in his chest and forces it's way out of his throat as he starts to giggle and chuckle, and before long he's doubled over holding his stomach and laughing with tears of joy streaming down his face.

"I'm- I'm having a-" he jumps up to run over to Orion, shooing Elita off of him and throwing his arms around his friend. "Pax I'm sparked! I- I can't wait to tell Sentinel, he's gonna be so excited!"

"Sentinel?" Alpha Trion's voice goes cold and harsh behind them.

"Yes! Oh- Oh yes, Sentinel Prime, he-"

"He is NO PRIME!" The old mech bellows, and all four of them turn to look at him in confusion. "He does not bear our name!"

"...WHAT?!"

The grand reveal is even more sour this time around. So, so much more sour. The betrayal runs so much deeper, and D-16 is horrified and sickened. Watching the mech he adores and admires so much bowing to the quintessons and giving away the energon that they worked so hard for. It was already bad, but now? Now, he's carrying that monster's offspring. A sparkling conceived under false pretenses, under coercion, under lies. This baby hadn't been created by love and mutual respect, it has been made by a mech that lied to their faces to get them into his bed, to get access to their bodies to use for his own pleasure however he saw fit.

D-16 feels disgusting. Violated. Worthless. He feels tricked and used and abused. He stares down at his body feeling more nausea already roiling in the deepest pits of his tanks. Sentinel had touched him everywhere. There's not a single inch of space anywhere that's clean of that mech's touch.

No one is surprised when he suddenly folds to his knees and screams. Screams with all the force of his anguish, his shattered trust, his broken and reviled body. Manic, he claws at his chassis with feverbright optics, wailing at them to, "Get it out of me...! GET IT OUT OF ME! I don't want it, I don't- I don't want it, GET IT OUT!"

Orion is at his side in an instant, yelping, "Dee, no! Stop, you'll hurt yourself!" As he forcibly grabs his friend's servos to stop him from tearing himself apart. D-16 shrieks a wordless noise of agony, and then collapses forward onto Orion to begin sobbing violently into his shoulder. Clutching onto him like a lifeline, wailing with all the devestated force he can. Bawling against Orion and falling to pieces, brokenly asking what he's going to do.

...

Ok im gonna cut this here cuz it's getting long, like really long and my hands are tired. I can barely move my left side today lmao. Poor poor Dee 😌 hope you enjoyed this nugget of angst! If ya'll wanna see a part 2, you know what to do. The box is open uwu

[michaela-o]

SENTINEL X GN! HUMAN READER DRABBLE

( warnings: kidnappery, mentions of threatening life and killing )

The chamber was dim, lit only by the faint blue glow of Cybertronian technology running through the walls. The air was thick with tension. A human sat bound in the corner, their wrists shackled by unfamiliar uncomfortable restraints digging into their flesh. Faint crackle of their restraints humming with every slight movement. They glared up at the towering form of Sentinel Prime, as they quickly learned his name, their heart pounding in their chest like a little bird looking for escape in a cage.

Sentinel loomed meanecingly above them, his optics burning with cold amusement with that sly smile across his faceplate. His presence was overwhelming—a blend of regal authority and calculating menace of someone who knew held all the cards. His massive frame shifted slightly as he crouched down, leaning closer above to the creature beneath him.

"You really don't understand, do you?" Sentinel rumbled with chuckle, his voice smooth but laced with menace. "Your life—your very existence—depends on my whim."

The human swallowed hard, forcing themeselves not to flinch. They are not gonna let this prick of a leader, as he likes to call himself, let him intimidate them. But damm was that hard. But if there's one thing Sentinel was good at, was to break anything that he didn't like to bend his way. Even if he had to use a little force. As if he cared. He was rather enjoying this.

Sentinel’s optics narrowed as he reached down, his sly smirk not faltering, pinching them between two massive fingers. They gasped as he lifted them into the air effortlessly, holding them just high that their feet dangled above the ground. The pressure from his grip was deliberate—enough to hurt and scare, not enough to crush. At least not yet.

"You humans are so... breakable," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "It takes barely any effort to end you. A twist. A squeeeeeze..." He gave the slightest increase of pressure, making them cry out.

Their breath hitched, panic clawing at their chest. They struggled against his fingers but Sentinel’s grip was unyielding. He chuckled darkly, savoring the way their heartbeat quivered in their chest, the way fear bloomed in their eyes despite their attempts to hide the fear.

The human glared at him through gritted teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of begging. But Sentinel’s smirk only grew at their defiance. He let out a chuckle—the delicate balance of fear and resistance, knowing he could extinguish them in a heartbeat but choosing not to. He was enjoying himself a bit too much.

"You’re wondering how long I’ll play with you," he said, as if reading their thoughts. "How many times you’ll wake up, wondering if today will be your last." He shifted his grip slightly, making them gasp as the pressure around their ribs increased. "Maybe I'll crush you slowly, just to see how long before your little chest snaps. Or perhaps I'll let you go—just for the sport of hunting you down again." He was talking as if this was a normal occurence in his daily life. It was sickening.

He brought them closer to his faceplate, his optics burning into their soft glassy eyes with an unsettling intensity. "You’ll never know," he said softly with venom dripping in his voice. "And that, little human, is the most fun part. Your life isn’t yours anymore. It’s mine. You belong to me."

Their pulse pounded in their ears, it all fell down on them. The desperation..the reality that they might never come out of this alive. But despite this they forced themeself to meet his gaze. "You're just a coward," the human spat, tested the waters, breathless from the pressure on their ribs. "All that power you claim to have and all you can do is threaten a human."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Sentinel laughed—an unsettling sound that seemed to echo in the small chamber. "Brave words for someone this close to death i gotta admit that."

Suddenly with a flick of his hand, he dropped them to the ground with a heavy thud. They tumbled to the ground, gasping for air, their body trembled from adrenaline and fear. Sentinel stood tall again, watching them with quiet satisfaction.

"Enjoy your defiance while you can," he said, turning to leave the room. "We’ll see how long it lasts when you realize I can snuff you out whenever I please."

As the massive door slid shut behind him with a resonant clang, the human sat in the silence, clutching their ribs, mind racing. As they slowly sat up tears started to form in the corner of their eyes as Sentinel’s words echoed in their head...

Aaaa i hope u enjoyed this ! Feel free ro add anything !! I know i'm not a good writer but i tried <3🧡🧡

[mechdyke-after-hours]

INSIDE THE SHIP OF FLESH

second part to Inside The Tower of Gold!!

⚠️ WARNINGS!! ⚠️

transformers one spoilers, NON-CON, tentacle sex, ovipositon + egg laying, sounding, semi-public sex

y'all... I have NO idea how this fic turned out like this. I wasn't even expecting to write this chapter, let alone make it this... explicit. enjoy!

Going to the surface wasn't exactly a pleasant experience on a regular day, let alone after Sentinel's... experience last night. The more he thought about it while getting ready, the more conflicted he got. He still ached all over and the ozonic scent of leftover transfluids practically wafted off his frame. He buffed out as many scratches and paint transfers that he could in around 10 kliks, which admittedly... wasn't a lot.

Sentinel had respect for the Quintessons, of course he did. They helped him get everything he wanted and then some, all in return for a bit of energon. But they weren't exactly friendly, to say the least. They were very demanding creatures. Always wanting more. But he always just grit his denta and smiled, something he was very practiced at doing by now.

His announcement was slightly more rushed than usual. He still looked a bit of a mess, despite his best efforts. Scuffs and scratches littered his usually perfect plating, and his smile was slightly more forced. His powerful voice boomed over the Iacon display screens as he explained how he was once again "going to the surface and risking his life to find the matrix, for the greater good of the cybertronian race!" with a wide, toothy smile. He could hear the cheers from the broadcast room, mechs and femmes alike screaming his name. He puffed his chassis out slightly, grinning as the broadcast ended. He turned to Airachnid, and gave her a nod as they finished the final preparations.

As he stood in front of the Quintessons he couldn't help but feel that something was off. Sure, he had brought a little less energon than usual, but the way their red glowing eyes stared him down was wrong. He kept his cool, even when the high commander moved closer, hot breath washing over his frame. Slimy organic tentacles grabbed at him, bringing him up to its face. The Quintesson sniffed him, its eyes glowing just a little brighter as it lifted Sentinel up, eyeing his shoddily welded-on modesty panelling.

"I'll be bringing extra next time, I promise." Sentinel smiled as much as he could, trying to ignore the damp breath of the Quintesson high commander as it wafted over his face plate, the stench of something astringent filling his olfactory sensors. He was so focused on the smell, he didn't feel the slimy appendages inching tighter around his limbs.

It happened so quickly. His already once injured modesty panel was being pried off. Without thinking, he retracted it. The Quintesson sniffed again, the traces of leftover transfluids having leaked out and stained Sentinel's valve. He shot a glance towards Airachnid and the other guards, who were simply looking the other way, keeping an optic out for any other threats and ignoring the scene in front of them. Traitors.

The Quintessons tentacles tightened around his wrists and ankles, stretching him out until he was completely spread eagle, barely able to move. His wings twitched uselessly as he tried to get away, but the sight of glowing red eyes and bared teeth quickly put a stop to his attempts. He hung uselessly in the air as horrifyingly organic appendages probed and explored his frame, leaving sticky trails on his already marred plating. Grin and bear it. Grin and bear it.

The first slide of the appendage along the plush golden folds of his valve wasn't as unpleasant as he was expecting. He vented heavily as it toyed with his node for a moment, before sliding inside. The taper made it an easy fit at first, especially after the rough treatment his valve had already faced just hours before. But it kept sliding, and each segment kept getting thicker and thicker. It wasn't long before his callipers felt stretched to their limit, the small blunt tip pressing against the entrance to his gestation chamber.

As Sentinel's intake opened to protest, another one of the high commander's tentacled limbs pressed against his glossa. The taste and texture was vile, unlike anything he'd ever put in his mouth. It pushed forwards, filling his intake quickly, and slowly sliding down his throat. He gagged, but it didn't stop. He didn't realise he was crying, sobbing even, until he tasted the salty tang of coolant on his glossa. The tentacle went impossibly deep, down his throat to the point he could feel it in his tanks. The one in his valve pressed harder against his gestation chamber, and he felt a sudden pop. The delicate silicone ring gave way, allowing the Quintesson to slide even deeper.

To his horror, a third tentacle started prodding at his frame. He was no stranger to aft play, but with his body already so stuffed full he couldn't even begin to imagine it fitting into his port. But that didn't stop the Quintesson from trying. The natural lubrication of the appendage helped it slide in with ease, the tapered end once again proving useful. He cried out loudly, oral lubricants spilling out of his intake around the intrusion and onto his chassis. His port stretched painlessly, and for that he was thankful.

The high commander set a brutal, punishing pace. Sentinel tugged at his restraints again, his optics squinting closed as tears continued to spill down his cheeks. An overload was forced out of him, static energy arching and bouncing off his plating as transfluids shot out of his spike and splattered onto the ground beneath him, staining the floor pink. The Quintesson didn't slow, further bullying Sentinel's overstimulated and stretched valve.

A fourth, much thinner tentacle slid around his leg and up his thigh. It wrapped around the base of his spike, providing even more unwanted stimulation. Sentinel felt a strange pressure at the tip of his spike, his optics shooting open just in time to see the smallest appendage slide into his transfluid lines. The stimulation was confusing, the area so sensitive that it almost hurt. He let out a series of mumbled, confused moans as his spike was stretched, the thin tentacle thrusting slowly and releasing even more slimy fluids to aid the stretch. He bit down on the appendage stretching his intake slightly, his venting heavy and uneven, his frame overheating to the point his tears sizzled against his cheek plating.

The tentacle in his valve started flexing, becoming slightly thicker suddenly. Sentinel panicked and choked as a round object pushed itself into his valve, pushing against the entrance to his gestation chamber. He was suddenly thankful for the earlier stretching as the slightly gelatinous orb slid into him. He'd heard tales of how Quintessons reproduced, but he wasn't expecting to ever experience it firsthand. A second egg pressed against him, sliding in with surprising ease. The thin tentacle filling his transfluid line stopped him from overloading, leaving him frustratingly right on the edge. He sobbed, but no tears fell.

After a long moment, the barrage of squishy eggs finally slowed to a stop. His abdominal plating bulged out obscenely, creaking under the strain of his stretched out protomesh. The ovipositor tentacle twitched before releasing a sticky thick slime, filling him up even more. It retracted slowly, leaving his valve empty and stretched wide. A gush of fluids followed it, splattering onto the floor between his legs with a disturbing squelch. Next slid out the one in his spike slit, followed by the one in his port. The one from his intake was the last to retract, making his insides churn and lurch as he struggled not to purge his tanks.

The Quintesson high commander didn't let Sentinel go; however, if anything the appendages restraining him only got tighter. He tried to speak, but his throat felt raw, his glossa heavy in his mouth. His voice box let out a burst of static uselessly. His optics flickered offlined for a moment, before he felt a rush of pressure in his core.

The slime started to leak from his gestation chamber, providing a tingling numbing sensation not unlike the circuit booster patches from the night before, but located entirely in his valve. The pressure started soon after, the eggs having swelled slightly in the short time they had to germinate inside of his chambers. The Quintesson spread his legs slightly more and let out a chittering noise. Even more slime gushed out of Sentinel's abused valve, the blue and gold folds gaping open obscenely. His node blinked in time with his ventilations, his frame feeling slow and relaxed despite his current situation. He vaguely understood that he needed to start pushing, and he did just that. His valve stretched wide around the firm yet jelly-like eggs as they fell onto the floor below into a wet pile. His optics offlined again as he crashed into another overload, aiding the birth of the last few Quintesson eggs.

The high commander signalled to the other Quintessons who quickly rushed over, picking up the eggs and carrying them inside the grotesque looking ship. Sentinel was dazed, his helm spinning and throbbing in pain. He was dumped rather unceremoniously onto the sticky floor beneath, his plating suffering another few dents from the landing alone. His limbs twitched rather uselessly as he wiped drool and slime off his face with the back of a servo. The Quintesson left rather quickly after that, leaving him and the rest of his party alone in the techno-organic wasteland.

The last thing he saw before he finally passed out was Airachnid staring at him with unblinking optics, almost definitely recording and saving everything into her seemingly infinite memory banks. Whether to use it as blackmail against him or the Quintessons, he wasn't sure. But he'd have to ask for a copy later as... proof.

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

little wip for that tfone tangled au I've been thinking about

---

B-127 wasn't a normal bot. For one, he was a miner, so he already lacked the cog that the rest of the bots in Iacon had. Secondly, he was granted a special power within his spark, one where if he touched the chest area of another bot, closed his eyes, and concentrated at that point, he could heal them of all their injuries and even reverse death. He hadn't reached that level of mastery (reversing death) but could heal all sorts of pains within a bot's body.

That's what he did for his caretaker, Sentinel Prime, anyway. Bee had been told the story of his creation and why he was kept in Sub-Level 50 so many times that he could recite it by memory.

"Before you had gotten online, The Quintessons had known about your special abilities and tried to kidnap you and keep you as their slave, but I was able to save you before they could hurt you. Cybertron outside of Sub-Level 50 is cruel and dangerous, and I already put myself in danger with others knowing that I'm protecting you. But if you were out there? You'd be dead before you could even blink! So that's why you stay down here, because it's safe. Do you understand?"

And so here he was, monitoring the seemingly infinite flow of trash and scrap metal into the incinerator. Steve didn't seem too interested in conversation in the morning (Bee could tell by Steve's body language), so it was just straight off to work.

He knows of the dangers that lay beyond the familiar metal walls, but would it really hurt if he just took a peek at the outside world? Despite Sentinel's constant warnings, he was also bombarded with grand adventures that Sentinel went on in search of the Matrix of Leadership, and from the epic wording of his stories they sounded pretty awesome if Bee said so himself.

Just when he was about to get lost in his daydreams, two bots were suddenly shoved into Sub-Level 50 by another, larger bot, taking B-127 by surprise.

[witchofthesouls]

I can't believe you did an alternative TF One Sentinel who became a Charlemagne or William the Conqueror because he did conquer the whole set of Prime valve, and then later spite/hate-fucked his canon self to keep that 100% achievement run.

The myths that Cybertron must have on Sentinel down the line must have been dramatically hyped and utterly impressive.

Yep. He's a sore loser, a poor winner, and a complete menace for achievement runs. He most definitely took the kids from his selfcest venture and rears them with the rest of their siblings.

That Sentinel will be happily buried under hundreds of sparklings and later thousands of grandkids and great-grandkids. It will get to the point that nearly all Cybertronians-by-carriage could claim spark lineage to him as Sentinel was the primary sire or a significant code donor.

In that world, that is how Sentinel became a Prime in the far future. Cybertronians, after many generations, couldn't believe a mere mortal had that kind of virility, and the Thirteen basically formed Conjunx rites among their own kind, so there was a shift in the records on how Sentinel was portrayed from a secretary to Primal Consort ('Sentinel of the Primes,' since he basically was a stud for all of them and stayed with them until his end) to Sentinel Prime. Future theologians, mythologists, historians, and anthropologists get into deep, vicious debates over the 'true' status of Sentinel.

Some of the more eclectic sects believe that his spike was blessed straight from Primus, or he was a kind of reproductive spirit to help bolster the Primes, so he has some very risqué iconography and artwork dedicated to his spike and is a considered a patron of fertility, abundance, and fatherhood.

Even in the afterlife, he's still getting manhandled by large frames and crushed by Prime valve because the Thirteen aren't letting go of their piss-baby secretary that they trained considerably. He's like the universe's angriest energizer bunny attached to the most horniest spike with never-ending transfluid production. Sure, he had traitorous plans, but that all fell wayside with sex, bitties, and a lot of pampering.

[delectableworm]

"That's it... Lick them all clean for me, sweetspark." Sentinel whimpered as he tried his best to clean up the mess he had made on the floor. He was told not to overload while you step on his spike but someone didn't listen and make a mess.

"You got my pedes dirty. Do you have any idea how long it took for me to buff that? To think I went through all the trouble of getting dolled up for you only to be repaid like this." You tugged the leash in your servo that was connected to his pink collar. A flashy colour for a flashy mech with your designation on it in cursive to show who he belonged to. Sentinel whimpered when he tugged forward again and grunted at your pede that you had lifted to his face, glossy optics glaring at you but you only tugged harder. "Lick."

It was one order. One command and it had him getting back to work quickly like a miner mining for energon. He put his glossa to use, licking your pede clean before moving to another one that you had graciously lifted to make his work easy for a good job. He licked that one clean too before it left his face and growled when you patted his helm while cooing at him.

"Aww, such a good boy, Sentinel. Obeying my command like a good pup? Yes, you are. Yes, you are." You scratched behind his finials and under his chin in a gentle manner that got him to lean into the touch despite his coding screaming for him not to.

It was humiliating but if he wanted to keep his image as the greatest Prime, he might just have to suck it up. Speaking of which, he felt your servos pulled away as you leaned back on his throne with legs spread for him. He could see your spike standing tall, bobbing with each movement while you made yourself comfortable.

"Now," Another tug that made him stumble on his knees until his face neared the piece, "get back to work."

[short-wooloo]

The fact that people are saying Megatron was right to murder Sentinel really bothers me

not just for the moral reasons, I find the way people are too eager to justify murder, capital punishment, and vigilante violence because the target "deserves it" (not saying Sentinel doesn't, just that when you set terms for when it is acceptable to murder, people will find a way to make it fit) concerning at large

no, see for years I've had to listen to people pontificate in smug, holier than thou, "I'm morally pure/correct" about how in Revenge of the Sith it is wrong for Mace Windu to kill FUCKING SPACE WIZARD HITLER/SATAN!

and unlike Sentinel, Palpatine was still a threat (Force lightning and political power he held), was faking his pleas for mercy, and overall was not truly beaten, compared to Sentinel being injured, on the floor, beaten and truly begging for his life, and most importantly exposed as the fruad and traitor he was, killing Palpatine was anecessary "evil", the best option out of bad options, killing Sentinel was nothing more than an indulgence of one's own selfish need for revenge and personal satisfaction

[angelicsentinel]

Chapters: 1/21 Fandom: 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed, Magic Kaito Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid Characters: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan, Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Black Organization Member(s) (Meitantei Conan), Haibara Ai | Miyano Shiho, Miyano Akemi, Hakuba Saguru, Hattori Heiji Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Magic, Action/Adventure, Torture, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Identity Reveal, Minor Character Death Summary:

Kaito uncovers a vast conspiracy from a most unusual source—a journal that purports to be from the future. Caught in the grasping claws of fate, Kaito finds an unlikely ally in detective Kudō Shinichi. They must work together to prevent a dark future, though the present Shinichi is suspicious of Kaito's motives.

-

Notes: So I hit my millionth word in dcmk alone this fic by a country mile. Time travel was a siren song I couldn't resist even after I told myself I'd never do this again. Many thanks to @chiikichai for picking up the pinch hit when the original artist ghosted me and being a wonderful partner; it was such a pleasure to work with you again, Doodle for listening to my inane rambling when I desperately needed it, Kir for being my biggest cheerleader and supporter, for not saying I told you so, and for betaing this monster, and @glitchedcatto for body doubling. Love y'all 💙

Don’t forget to check out Chii’s absolutely incredible art here! Go give it some love!

[xdantesinfernox]

TFO Sentinel Prime Blurb:

You're Sentinel's Prized Possession. His little play thing. His pet, whom he loves to show off to everyone in Iacon.

He'll sit you on his lap while he sits on his golden throne, displaying you for anyone who's optics are willing to see. While he addresses any business Arachnid brings to his attention, he'll play with you throughout the day. Petting you gently, tracing his digits over your body, muttering under his breath words for only you to hear.

"Such a good pet..."

"You're so cute..."

"Look at you, trembling just from a simple touch..."

[wanderingjedihistorian]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Clone Trooper Waxer (Star Wars), Jocasta Nu Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Sentinel/Guide, Force Dyad (Star Wars), First Meetings, Bonding, Instincts are hard, Enhanced senses are harder, Sentinel CC-2224 | Cody, Guide Obi-Wan Kenobi Series: Part 1 of Here Comes the Sun, Part 9 of 212th Bingo 2023 Summary: As soon as Obi-Wan stepped off the shuttle, anticipation started to buzz under his skin. The very Force around him seemed to hum soonsoonsoon. Obi-Wan had no idea what it could possibly mean. Then he heard a voice.

For the "Sentinel AU" square of @clonefandomevents​ 212th Bingo!

Featuring at commissioned from the lovely @amikoroyaiart​!

[mechdyke-after-hours]

INSIDE THE TOWER OF GOLD

⚠️ WARNINGS!! ⚠️

mild transformers one spoilers, non-con, drugged sex, mild violence

THIS IS A NON-CON FIC. if you don't like any of the above tags PLEASE just scroll onwards.

once again another messy ficlet or whatever! but I want that mech's pussy destroyed... so... :)

Second part is here! heed the warnings!!

Sentinel Prime had all he ever wanted. Power. Money. Respect. Fame. Everything he ever dreamed was in the palm of his servo. And he LOVED it. He loved broadcasting himself in front of Iacon and letting all of the other, less important, Cybertronians see his glorious frame. He preened and polished himself constantly, making sure his plating was shiny enough that it was practically a mirror. He was the picture perfect heroic prime, as far as the citizens of Iacon were concerned.

But of course, it wasn't enough for Sentinel. It could never be enough. Which is exactly why he held the most luxurious parties he could. Free from anyone he felt too far beneath him. The best energon money could buy, triple filtered high grade and a pack of Syk. The little patches were arranged delicately on a platter, a warning card placed at the front explaining the effects, HEAVILY encouraging mechs to not take more than one and explaining how to properly use them. Avoid applying patches to the helm or chassis... the usual scrap that was only there to avoid possible lawsuits. Not like anyone would ever dare to try, but better safe than sorry.

The party was going perfectly, as it always did. He already knew he wasn't going to take anything or drink too much, since he was required at the surface tomorrow morning. He mostly just stood around, a small glass of high grade balanced between his digits that he sipped at between conversations with mechs he didn't care to learn the names of.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't jump when a servo suddenly pressed against his back. He bristled, but kept his cool, his derma curled as he forced a smile onto his face. He stayed polite, keeping up the conversation with the mech. Sentinel felt a familiar helmache coming on. His legs started to feel weak, his vision going slightly blurry. He kept up the conversation as well as he could, but his speech was starting to get slurred, his voicebox glitching. Next thing he knew, his vision was spinning and he was collapsing to the floor, the glass in his servo shattering against the floor.

Sentinel's optics slowly started to flicker online, a strange ache and pressure blooming from his crotch. He tried to move his arms, he was completely paralysed. His vision was blurred, his hearing muffled. He reset his optics, and his audials. Once. Twice. The world around him slowly started to gain some clarity. He glanced down between his legs, only to be slightly horrified at what he saw. His interface panel had been forcefully pried off. Small glowing blue droplets of energon stained his plating, mixing with splatters of pink. His array was aching and burning, feeling impossibly stretched and loose. Sentinel Prime was never a mech to pray. But in that moment, he prayed.

He glanced down at his frame. Syk patches littered his arms and his chassis. Enough to have him completely paralysed, but not enough to cause his frame to go into full system reset. His arms and legs were useless, unable to kick or push, he had to just lay there uselessly as his valve was used and abused. The swirling mix of pain and pleasure swam through his systems. His comms had been disabled, his HUD blinking a warning about needing repairs. Someone was moaning and whining, and he became aware that it was his own voice. Mechs were lined up, servos running over his once untarnished and shiny plating, now defiled and sticky. He tried to protest, but his voicebox failed him.

Sentinel sobbed, or at least he thought he did. He was vaguely aware of another round of transfluids filling his valve, dripping down onto the luxurious padded sofa beneath, now stained and torn. The mech pulled out, only to reach down and scoop up the spilling transfluids, shoving them back into his valve. He could barely make out the words being said to him, his processor taking twice as long to work. "Hah! C'mon, Prime! Keep that load in ya pretty lil' valve. Why don't you open that gestation chamber for us and we'll spark ya up, huh? Maybe then you'll actually be useful for something!" Came a sneering voice from above him. He bit his derma hard enough that he tasted energon.

Another fat spike pressed against him, the golden folds of his valve parting and wrapping around the thick metal rod. He held back a noise as thick ridges stretched his calipers to the limit, and then some. His spike twitched, before he overloaded with a loud cry, shooting transfluid up across the shiny dark blue of his chassis. The mech above him laughed cruelly, forcing Sentinel's intake open before spitting directly onto his glossa. "Dirty mech. Cumming while being passed around like shareware. If only Iacon could see their beloved prime now, with a nobody's spike shoved up his pretty cunt." Sentinel overloaded again.

The mechs manhandled him. Positioning him in whatever way they wanted. He was on all fours presenging himself like some sort of mechanimal in heat, and with the way he was panting he may as well have been. He didn't remember offlining his optics, but they shot open when a spike started to press against his intake. A rough hand squeezed at his cheek plates, forcing his mouth open. A mech of his status shouldn't be doing something as lowly as sucking spike... but it seemed he didn't have a choice. His intake hung open, the blunt tip of a spike pressing against his glossa. It slipped in further, until his nose was pressed against plating. His throat cabling felt tight, his glossa pressed flat against the floor of his intake as he drooled oral lubricants onto the floor beneath him. His tanks lurched as the mech started thrusting brutally, surely bruising the sensitive rubber of his throat. A servo wrapped around his neck and squeezed, causing him to gag even harder, an obscene bulge visible through the soft plating. His optics rolled back as tears of coolant spilled down his cheeks.

Sentinel didn't remember passing out again. But next thing he knew, he had woken up. A datastick was next to him as well as a single printed photo, his abused and whored out frame covered in Syk patches. A threat of blackmail if he'd ever seen one. He fumbled as he plugged the datastick into one of the ports on the inside of his arm, quickly uploading the footage to an encrypted folder deep in his memory banks. He groaned, as he checked his internal chronometer. He was going to be late. He couldn't be late. The quintessons would kill him if he didn't get them their energon on time, or worse, expose his treachery to all of Iacon. He gritted his denta, standing up and peeling the used Syk patches off of his plating as he trudged to the washracks with a groan, and a massive helmache.

Solvent washed over his frame, feeling like fire against his still exposed tender valve and spike housing. He scrubbed quickly, removing most of the evidence. Buffing off paint transfers and scrubbing away as much dried transfluid that he could. He rushed, turning off the shower and drying off, being careful around his exposed delicate areas. He picked up his discarded modesty panel from the floor of the main room, retrieving a welding kit from his emergency kit and getting to work. His welding job was shoddy, much more used to having people fix him up, but it'd have to do. He needed to address the people of Iacon, before heading to the surface. He just hoped quintessons didn't have the ability to smell transfluids.

[witchofthesouls]

I wish I had digital art skills because I'm haunted by The Primes' Rooster AU, such as:

The sheer hungry look by Liege Maximo licking up the mess upon Sentinel's thighs and pressing his mouth on the most perplexing valve anyone as come across.

A well-bitten Solus smoking a cigarette in the berth, a contented and well-bedded Megatronus next to her slipping on a nice drink through a straw, and Megatronus is sharing that with a slightly dented Sentinel who's between them and has his own super curly straw to sip the cocktail.

Quintus' labs with the Prime recording the procedures. A serious face in one frame, then a "Oh, someone's (it's Sentinel. He has permission to get inside and Quintus is too deep in Science to realize there's another person there.) messing with my valve. Well, the newsparks do need materials and I can't remember the last time I've eaten."

Alpha Trion and the Cybertronian version of Kama Sutra

Vector Prime distantly watching over others clanging with a glass of wine because of his voyeur kink

Sentinel with his own weapon forged by Solus herself. It's a cross between his canon sword and the Skyboom shield.

Short-king Sentinel with his tall-ass Primes and equally tall-ass teenage/adult children.

Starscream's and Sentinel's dramatic BEEF with each other. Literal cockfighting between these two.

And Rooster!Sentinel in Canon!verse, going "Look at me. I'm your sire/geni now." to Orion and D-16.

On one hand, pre-betrayal discovery is Rooster!Sentinel slinging the Cogless versions of two of his sons/grandsons over his shoulders. On the other hand, post-betrayal discovery is Sentinel versus Sentinel. D-16 won't bow before the false Prime, but he'll lower his face because of the resulting selfcest and the filthy, filthy commentary on Megatronus' (his hero's) sexual preferences. (The High Guard peanut gallery chiming in over Megatronus' getting his back blown by Solus and/or Prima.)

[hercarisntyours]

how the FUCK do you draw servos

anyways have an angsty d16 wip based on this song that I think is so! him! (alt available)