#whirl transformers

[beerealis]

SHAKGIN

Been rereading "A Soul Beneath The Surface" yet again, so finally sketched out some headcanons.

I love these girls so much. One day I will also be able to draw Cyclonus. Surely.

More sketches and design thoughts below the cut:

Given that Whirl borrows the clothes she shows up in, I'm sure they all happen to be oversized, and reasonably cool if you squint. Also pretty sure she's up on all high surfaces always at all times. She's everything.

Tailgate, meanwhile, I imagine as having rocked an alternative style with tattoos, an undercut, bleached and blue colored hair. She now has to grow it out for her new adult job, so it looks pretty ratty if she doesn't properly style it.

My friend put it as "she looks like you pulled her out of a Lidl trashcan" which...yeah. Peak lesbian fashion, let's go👌

[chillingandtoxic]

What’s that guys deal lol

[gaymasterchief]

by yixishangyong

[violetaquadelight]

What if Sunstorm knew Rung is the literal embodiment of Primus himself? What if the electromagnetic pulse that caused Rung to be such a forgettable character failed? Imagine if somewhere out there in the vast bubble of alternative universes, there is one where a religion is founded under the idea that Primus himself walks among Cybertronians led by Sunstorm?

Imagine the Lost light crew stumbling upon this universe and 'someone' being the menace they are, said something worth getting themself arrested and executed for.

To avoid confusions characters with "-LL" in their name means they are not native in that Universe.

[aircommandr]

first time drawing whirl too i need a round of applause

[wifetomegatron]

Imagine a liaison aboard the lost light who calls people 'love' and 'dear' in a very soft, delicate tone.

based on this post because this is just too tempting to not write about, we must sound like debutants making their first appearance in fashionable society speaking in skittish whispers and sighs all the time when in reality organics speak in different octaves and wavelengths. definitely self indulgent cause me and my friends do this.

Imagine a liaison aboard the lost light who calls people 'love' and 'dear' in a very soft, delicate tone. In a ship full of battle-weary, pessimistic, cybertronians desensitized to almost everything, that single drop of warmth coming from a human whose touches feel like silk — feather light and alien, would be enough to make them putty in your presence.

The last time Brainstorm received a — " How clever, Brainstorm, thank you for your help." He had nearly popped a circuit trying to come up with a reply, stunned silent for what Perceptor claimed was the first time he was without one of his usual snarky remarks. Then it was Swerve, who wouldn't shut up about how you had called him 'darling' — Skids was adamant to prove to him that it was just how you spoke to people, even if the theoretician himself had his chest puffed out from being called 'dear'.

Then there was the time that you had scolded Whirl for nearly stepping on you, voice still painfully tender in comparison to the mechanical lilt of metal vocalizers —" Ooop! Careful there, handsome!" You had jumped, swerving just in time before his pedes crushed you. And the watchmaker froze, with a single optic pinning you in place. Then Drift had to chase him down several hallways, yelling that he wasn't allowed to just pick you up and run off.

An intervention was needed when a group of mechs were sent down a Decepticon outpost and returned with injuries. Apparently, everyone wanted to be pat on the arm and have you crooned — " Oh, you poor, brave thing" to them. With your brows knitted in worry, lips pout and slightly parted as they tell you all the heroic things they did. ( Ultra Magnus wasn't too impressed when said intervention from Rodimus was just a plot for him to cut the line and show you his battle scars. Someone in the back of the line had yelled that he wasn't even scratched. Judging from the infighting brewing, it was most likely Whirl.)

[tinydefector]

Ok ok i thought about this and for me it's sounds funny.

Sooo on the comic where everyone just found out that Rung is god you know where Rodimus, Rachet, Whirl and Tyrest and others having existing crisis and the part where Whirl said "God was my therapist" and then I thought about it, how funny it would be if cybertronian or human MC/reader said something like "I was fuck by said God" like if said cybertronian/human was in relationship with Rung and everyone reaction (plus Tyrest too since I think he's a god fanatic) 😂😂😂😂

XD omg so I had a bit of a joke piece about fucking God over in this fic. But it gets even better that thought of Tyrest being a God fanatic and hating Organics. The horror when he finds out Primus is with a human, watch this mech just break down.

Everyone's optics and eyes are on Rung, and the mech stands there wishing attention wasn't on him. Rodimus paces back and forth, Ratchet just stares off into a wall wish above all he wasn't here right now. Whirl, for the first time, is so quiet that it makes everyone so uncomfortable. And then there was the human just looking up at Rung in shock, dismay? They really didn't know how they felt in that moment.

Rodimus finally speaks. "OK, ok, but how the Frag!, Your Primus! All this time, you have just been what? Hiding on cybertron, having a vacation!" He asked. He was bitter about this, as much as he wanted to blame Rung for everything, cybertron falling apart, his home, and the matrix in truth it wasn't his fault. After all wasn't he doing the exact same thing, running away because he didn't want to be a prime, he wasn't suited for it, he didn't want to live in Optimus' shadow and have that shame over him. He'd take being co captain with Megatron over having to be in Optimus' shadow any cycle.

Ratchet, on the other hand, just wants a strong drink. He had never been a believe in gods, yet here he was finding out the the mech who had been the Lost Light's therapist, had been a neutral throughout the war, had a space ship collection older then some mechs was Primus. It was just his luck. "Does anyone else know?" He asked, trying to be the level-headed one of the group.

Rung removes his glasses, and the stress and exhaustion are very visible on his faceplate. "Drift, I believe, he's, he's always suspected something," Rung explains. He wasn't sure, but he's rather sure that Drift knows what he is.

Whirl finally laughs. "This is Fragged. How in the Pit did I end up this fragging, unlucky that my slagging therapist is Fragging Primus!" They shout, they don't know if they are angry, hurt or just overwhelmed, so much had been fried in their circuitry after the Emputra but this, this felt like a sick joke. All the things he had told Rung now feel like they were confessions.

Tyrest is baffled. He doesn't know whether to fall to his knees or call blasphemy, but the evidence is right there in front of his optics.

Rung is sheepish as he looks to the human. He's hoping they don't hate him. "I know this is alot for you all to take in, I'm sorry you all had to find out this way, I'm sincerely sorry for everything that has happened" He calls out to the group. He goes to continue only to be cut off.

"Fuck my life, Swerve is never going to let me live this down" the human stammers out. Everyone's optics are on them, a flush tints Rungs plating. "Please we don't need to bring that-" He's cut off again.

"The fact that I've unknowingly been getting Railed by Primus!" They exclaim only for Rung to hide behind one of his servos as multiple mech's Jaws drop at those words.

"HAH, and i thought I was Fragged!" Whirl screeched, finding humour in the situation. The other mechs look just as shocked and disgusted. "No, I refuse. That's blasphemy. Please tell me you haven't been interfacing with an organic!" Tyrest almost pleaded, hoping by the all spark that it wasn't true.

Rodimus pinches his brow ridge. He could feel his processor hurting from all this information. "Slagging Pit," he grumbles. " I Owe Sunstreaker so much Shainx now," he huffs. "OK, ok. Rung's Primus, and he's fragging a human." He throws his servos up in the air, being overly dramatic.

Ratchet just glares at the two. "They both of you are to report to medical for an examination after this, You" he points right at Rung. " I have some rather choice words for you," he states before stalking off, leaving.

The human looks at the floor, and the true panic is taking over. "Oh fuck, I've been fucking an Alien God who's also my therapist" they mutter to themself, tears starting to well up in their eyes and Rung kneels down cupping their face and wiping the tears away. "I didn't mean to upset you," he says softly. Optics focused on them. " I don't want this to change anything between us. You mean a great deal to me, and I don't want to lose you," he murmurs to them, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

The sound of the others arguing and fighting drowns out as Rung focuses on his little lover. "I'm not angry, Rung, Primus, or whatever name you want to go by, but... but I'm a human, a random fucking human so why me. Why me? " they nearly sob as he scoops them up, pulling them against his frame.

"My dear, I'm the the holy being everyone believes I am, I'm just a very old mech, who did what he could to stop something bad from happening, alot fo the tales told are very twisted stories. I'm just a mech, I'm not some holy being. And as for why you. You were the first person to remember my name, you took an interest in my hobbies, I would have happily faded into dust unknown but you choose me" he coos softly. Digits tracing their cheeks as he looks at them in pure love.

"But an Organic!" Tyrest hisses out as he watches how sweet and tender Rung is with the human. Is Rodimus who speaks up next. "Ah ah, remember each time to talk badly about organic races you lose Shanix which goes right into my account!~" Rodimus sings out, trying to make light of the situation for his own mental stability.

"You two are fragged and Slag, and I thought I had issues!" Whirl huffs before pointing at Rung. "Not a word about our therapy session to anyone, God or not, I will end you." Whirl nearly snarls before transforming and taking off.

"But you are Primus! You could have your choice of any cybertronian, pillars in your name cities, why have you hidden for so long!" Tyrest utters, he wants to be angry, but at the same time, this was Primus. How could he.

Rung meets his optics. "Because that's not the type of mech I am, I did what I had to to stop Unicron, I got sick of people trying to put me on a pedestal, I wanted to live, live my life, to enjoy hobbies, travel, I gave up my old frame for the ability to live" he states. He wouldn't change his choices even if he had the ability to. He was content.

________

MC: "Swerve get me a strong drink!"

Swerve: "heya what got you so rilled up, partner problems? Give me all the juicy details."

MC: staring him dead in the optics. "Swerve, Rung is Primus"

Swerve: "Well, I wouldn't call him that, I mean, he must be a good frag but doubt that"

MC: "No Swerve, Rung is Primus, I've been fucking your God, why me, how did I get to this point"

Swerve: "you know what let me get you a double"

--

Rung: "this is a mess, I need to get myself a Therapist"

Swerve: "well doc tell me all your woos, I'm the closest your gonna get for therapy"

Rung: " ships having a meltdown over my past and the fact I'm with a human"

Swerve: " eh, heard worse, your squishy things your Primus"

Rung: " yes, well that's also part of the issue"

---

Whirl: "soo.... Rung huh?"

Mc: "Please, I don't want to talk about it"

Whirl: "What part, the part where you're fragging the ships Therapist or the part where your Fragging Primus."

MC: "Oh my fucking God Whirl!"

Whirl: "Ah, ah, your fucking my God not the other way round!"

---

MC: "fuck you Tyrest, you owe Rodimus more money now, from being a Xenophobe."

Tyrest: "Like, I would ever let you within five meters of my frame you disgusting little creatin. Your insults mean nothing to me. Filthy little flesh thing"

MC: " just remember it's your Beloved Primus who's fragging me!, yea!, your beloved God prefers fragging me!"

Tyrest: *the most horrified noise ever* " You take the Blastphamy Back!"

__________

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[killerrobot-killingmatch]

Bracket 8, Finals!

Long Awaited and also one of the Funniest Finals we could have, here it is:

Glados Propaganda One.

Whirl Propaganda One. Two.

[robofaggy]

skibidi whirl returns once again

[cookieclover]

It's WHIRL TIME BABY, for now just some sketches as I needed to understand his weird anatomy first-

(He has one of my favourite designs of all time btw - I mean just LOOK at those LEGS, I can't be the only one obsessed with those shapes) <3

Bonus Swerve and Gearshifter sketches :>

[jaylestial]

The worst most honest psychiatrist on cybertron is open for business! :)

Very silly ref to a fic @calfrxca is writing, but also Whirl’s general awful advice giving. 😂

Text: Psychiatric Help, 5 Shanix. The Heli-Doctor is in.

Referencing Lucy from The Peanuts ofc :)

[gearsofmetal]

cant stand this guy.... (draws him over and over and over andover a)

[robolvrr]

you make me hard ;ᣟ݂ ✩͏⚹︎ᣟ݂    

whirl x gn! masochist reader

nsfw content. warnings: sexual content. mild blood. dirtytalk. humiliation/painplay.

whirl being whirl. nasty ensues.

"quit yer squirming, fleshie."

his warning garbles to a thick, coated snarl which sends the wire thin hair of your arms erect. you can feel a dribble of warmth flood out your nose down your jaw instead, ignoring the bitter tang and panting out your grievances instead.

motherfucker had started all this by breaking it.

you don't even have the comfort that it was accidental, because despite popular belief whirl rarely does anything without some premeditated thought.

his claws make quick work of your uniform, shredding through supposedly the galaxy's most endurable nylon and mesh with a rattle to his engines. what a scam.

that glowing orb of an optic burns bright in your reflection, which between blotted lashes and stinging tears looks awfully pleased. another whine crawls free from your throat.

"fuck, fuck, f-fuck! you fuck! stop tearing my shit, you're such an asshole—"

he must have liked that too. his attention doesn't wander though a servo does, catching your throat as a grizzley would salmon. it's strangely familiar to an animal planet special, you think, seeing his predatory frame dwarf yours.

no amount of struggling would have gone your favor anyhow.

whirl gives a mean laugh that shouldn't make you gush, but it does and he knows, especially as he uses your neck as a way to keep your hips grinding against the sharp corners of his sink.

"aw, don't be like that meatbag. and here i thought we were makin' progress!"

his spike bulges in you. you let out a shrill, wanton sob. he's grossly leering at your ass at this point, watching skin and flesh and muscle ripple the harder he goes. he thinks about the pinpricks he's left digging into you and how you take all the abuse he dishes so, so well.

"you getting.. ha.. ffff.. cold pedes, huh? you wish you were - slag, you're tighter than, shhiiii-- doing this with someone else? someone nice?"

the cackle you earn is maniacal as you manage to violently shake your head, a hand of yours slamming against the mirror as you fight to throw your weight back and meet his cruel affections.

it's difficult to find at what point your sanity finally unfolded and ended up in the lap of this psycho.

everyone is so, so nice. rodimus deemed it necessary.

everyone smiles at you, mostly. guides you, listens to you, enamored or curious or respectful enough to keep their dislike quiet.

it's excruciating. you don't like the unknown and you question the present, if it's genuine or not.

but whirl? oh, he made his opinions loud and clear. and when he insulted you and your size and the way your eyeballs bulged out your head like you were some scooped out animal when you got scared, there was a silent, shared understanding between you two as the crew tried to argue him to silence.

he saw you. he knew you and what you needed in a heartbeat.

an arrangement was made.

you aren't dating. you aren't in love and if you are it's in a way that doesn't fit standards. it's not as if you're worried though the previous entanglements where he managed to tug your jealousy from its shell leaves uncomfortable questions unanswered.

"hey. hey. don't you dare pass out on me. i want you awake when i overload. i want you alive."

a weak noise pitters when you force your control back into gear. slamming into glass shards isn't ideal.

not this time at least.

god, you are a freak.

"m-maybe you aren't hitting it like you need to be. go harder. i want to feel you burst my guts."

whirl doesn't stop but you see golden crescent, squinting at you. his claws delve into your hair and tug your scalp.

a yowl of joy is gargled with drool. limp and pliant, he now can fully destroy you and enjoy how noodly you get for him, almost as if the bones of your spine and arms and legs have disintegrated and he's fragging a puddle of goo.

"there's my nasty babe."

his spike swells. you can feel each inch grow fat with fluid, knocking into soft, sopping flesh and rubbing spots internally your fingers, toys and partners never had the expertise to find.

a claw, still holding your head hostage, is long enough to hook into your nostril. you think for a moment he's going to treat you like a pig and it makes you squeal, but it's whirl, remember?

he can't be too sweet with you.

so, he plays with your lips, still fascinated with how easily they squeeze between sharp prods. he finds the point where you truly struggle and squirm and gives you a second to breathe.

"a-angh!!!"

the air is knocked out from your lungs. it burns. you're babbling. an 'i love it' and an 'i love you' intermingle; you swear you hear whirl curse before he damn near breaks the sink, water rushing and treating you like a hollow toy.

"gonna.. gonna split you open. gonna make you break and break you again and again and again. never gonna like anything other than this. i wish i could eat you. crush you."

the closest to an confession you'll get.

you cum, crying for the third time.

"want it. whant yhu. wan' it, wan' it, harder, harder!"

hot, molten release coats your thighs sticky and thick. your arousal mixes with his, though he just keeps pumping you full until you groan.

he pulls out only to spurt over your back, hissing as he paints your skin and taps his spike crudely against your shoulder blades.

you groggily croak, curious as he rubs it between them, once. huh. strange choice.

a kink for another cycle. another nanoklik.

knowing whirl, you'll be back at it sooner than later.

"well. makes up for the little boo-boo, right?"

insufferable. maybe you will take up some of the lost light members drunken fantasies and toss him out the nearest airlock.

"ffffff..."

"fuck? me? yeah shortstack, ya' just did."

"yu.. you are suchh.."

"youuuu need me to call a medic? sounding kind of out of breath. could have 'em swing by... take a little looksie themselves."

your fire cools, a whine as you swipe back at him overwhelmed by the laughter that rumbles behind you.

[byfulcrums]

jean-luc godard for the win!

click for better quality cuz Tumblr ruined it :( also plz rb

[boredwafflex]

“Welcome back Spark!”

[transisopod]

beautiful princess with a disorder

(the fandom switch up from DUCKTALES 2017 to Transformers is actually insane. how am i going from anthropomorphic animals to mechs 💀)