#smaller pred

[hungrymilliek]

CW: Vore, cruel predator, implied digestion, reader POV prey below the jump.

Your significant other had told you to be careful.

"Babe, don't worry," you said, "It's just one mouse? What's she gonna do to me?"

Six hours later, she was at home. Relaxing on the couch, enjoying a pint of ice cream.

And you were still curled up in a ball in her belly. Feeling her muscles slide around you, squeezing your body tighter. The trickle of acids and the occasional plop of ice cream landing on your fur, matting it to the skin.

Hearing the squelching, squishing sounds of her stomach. The sound of her swallowing. Her breathing. Her heartbeat.

And then, suddenly, her voice.

"Y'know," she says, the words slightly muffled by her flesh, "Last time I ate one of you big ones, I kept him around for almost a week. But you..."

Unseen, but heard, a grin crosses her face.

"I doubt you'll make it more than three days."

Gwlp. Spltch. Gwrrrnnnn.

"I bet it must feel like hell in there, huh? Hot, humid, too tight for you to move more than a couple of inches."

You try to push out with a paw, the pads slipping on her slimy innards before you can make more of a bulge than you already are.

"Guess you'll think twice next time," she says, "Or at least, you would if you'd get a next time."

Gwlp. Splat. Gwrrglll.

"Do me a favor. Try and go to my tits," she says, "A big pair always draws in the suckers."

[feladi-vore]

cities are one of my favorite places to have lunch. The people, the cars, the busses, the trains, the buildings, cities are practically buffets! Here I am taking a rest in the middle of the road after having a nice meal~art by: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/sussynny/

[lover-of-mine]

no but what the fuck i said it back in January when Jack dislocated his shoulder again that he shouldn't have come back, that that boy wasn't fully healed and came back because people kept pressuring him considering the way the media was talking about how his injury was the devils downfall and i don't doubt someone on the team was like you can play through this right, and he's an athlete, athletes are conditioned to play through pain, and hockey is so much worse on that point, and you look at him and you know all he knows is hockey, but he's also a 22 yo who people keep expecting to be this saving grace when he's human and injured but of course he's gonna say, hell yeah i can play and keep his scoring average high and do everything he can for the devils, he's been moving less smootly for weeks, he wasn't shooting as much as he would before, he was playing like someone whos scared to be injured and i was saying his shoulder didn't heal fully thats why Lazar went for the fight after a completely legal hit that threw him on the floor but made him land on his shoulder now he has a ligament tear on the thing that fucking holds his shoulder in place when you could've just let that boy heal when he got boarded the first time in November, but noooo we need Jack, put him in, now were not making playoffs anyway and the boy is looking AT SIX MONTHS OF REHAB FOR A SURGERY HE SHOULDVE GOTTEN DONE IN JANUARY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FOR FUCKS SAKE I HATE THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[naszircrock4]

Melascula's Giant Appetite By mephistoVII

[supernormalblogname]

i think.. its very fun if the observer is very preyish... they tend to lure in smaller preds who think they seem like a tasty little catch, only for those preds to end up becoming prey to the observer's big friend. the observer is the pred's very own little lure to help catch themselves some big, fiesty prey, and the observer is very proud of this role!

i do like the idea of a pred with a little observer buddy... sweet looking but evil little guy who lures in prey for their big pred friend to eat, and who sits on their pred friend's shoulder or something, smiling and giggling watching their pred fill up on the prey they brought for them

prey who are about to be devoured look up at them like "!!!! help me!!!! stop this monster!!!!!!" and the little observer is like hahaha.... nope❤

(and then of course when the pred is full the observer lies on the pred's tummy & gives them tummy rubs... evil gay freaks)

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

You do know that fornication with cybertronians, regardless of faction is impossible as they would crush us due to their sheer sieze and weight, right? It would also be considered immoral and beastiality if we are talking about the predacons for example.

Y'know, I was originally just going to dunk on you for unironically using the word Fornicate in the year of our Lord Primus 2025, but this seems to a genuine, good-faith argument you've constructed here and to leave it at a joke would be flippant on my part, and I hold myself to a higher standard than that. So! Allow me to counter these points one by one.

While in reality, yes, the likelihood of death or injury from letting a 20-foot robot that weighs as much as a truck rail you full force would probably be pretty high, the nice thing about fiction and fantasy is that it doesn't really need to be grounded in reality. And even if you can't entirely suspend your disbelief on that level, there are still workarounds.

For example, not every transformer has all the mass of a semi truck. Their sizes have quite a bit more variation than you might be anticipating. Animated Prowl is only like 10 feet tall, 12 tops, and a smaller motorcycle only weighs around 350-400 pounds, which really isn't all that crazy. You look at G1 Rumble and Frenzy, and they're hardly taller than the humans. And then you look at the Beast Wars cast and some of the Maximal are straight up shorter than I am. Rattrap is like 4 foot nothin'.

Now, I know what you're thinking. We certainly do not limit ourselves to lusting over the smaller bots here on cybertron-smash-or-pass dot tumblr dot edu, so what gives? Well, my dear, we've found a reasonable canon excuse to bring the very big very heavy robots down to a more manageable and less hazardous size through the magic of ✨mass displacement✨. Basically, if Soundwave can scale down into an itty bitty cassette player that can easily be picked up like it weighs nothing, there's really no reason a 30-foot robot as heavy as a jet couldn't scale down into a smaller, human-ish-sized robot. They have the technology.

Now say someone doesn't really want to make their fictional robot boyfriend smaller. Maybe the insane overall size is part of the appeal, but they still can't get over the thought of whatever they're packing being way too big to avoid injury. While Cybertronians are typically humanoid, their junk doesn't really have to be in perfect proportion with a human's. No rule that says you can't scale it down enough to fit! But then, maybe they can work with the equipment being comically big, but they can't get over the idea of being crushed. Easy solution, human can't get crushed if they're on top!

Maybe they can't picture the spike fitting at all, and scaling it down just looks a little too silly, but they're still attracted to a big ol' robot. At that point, the best workaround I can give is just sticking with picturing non-penetrative sex. Not like there's only one way to do it, and nobody can stop you from imagining Optimus prime having at it between your thighs, or scissoring with Megatron <3

Now as for whether some of it is immoral, I don't really think banging a Predacon would be wrong? Whether we're talking about the beast wars preds or the tfp preds, they're all treated as adults with human-level intelligence, so they'd be able to give consent, unlike earth animals. Sex with Optimus Primal is really a lot closer to bangin' a guy in a gorilla suit at a costume party than hopping into an actual gorilla enclosure and bending over. While an argument could be made about the tfp predacons being technically very young, and it'd be perfectly valid to be uncomfortable sexualizing them with that in mind, not everyone is going to interpret them as being immature since it seems they start off in that continuity generally having their shit together and knowing enough as to not be easily taken advantage of.

So with all that said, I hope you at least have a clearer picture of how the mind of a robotfucker operates!!

[voraciousemo]

Doctor pred

Specifically one with a healing tummy.

-

Being sick. The worst cold youve ever had. Getting to the doctors office, one not for humans, but your normal doctor was closed for the holidays. Snow falling as you make it through the door, walking up the smaller staircase.

Quickly making an appointment, and sitting down on the smaller seats on the counter.

In a moment, the doctor came out, holding out a hand for you to hop onto. Truthfully, they didnt have many human clients, they admitted...but there was a gleam of excitement in their eyes.

They gott to their office, setting you on the desk. An...unconventional place, for sure, but they were quick to assure you. You ran down your list of symptoms, the doctor nodding along... but lightly biting their lip. Hiding the saliva pooling in their mouth. Your scent was driving them crazy...

In a quick movement, they scooped you up, giving an apologetic smile, mumbling that you wouldnt have to pay, canines on full display.

In a slow, almost slow-mo motion, they lifted you closer to their mouth, your body shaking without realizing as they slid you into their mouth, small strings between the teeth clinging to you, before the mouth shut around you.

With a happy hum, they tasted you, resisting the urge to lick you around, tilting their head back. You slipped into their throat, the muscles around you squeezing, and pulling at your body.. and after what felt like forever, you were deposited in a warm space. A heartbeat coming through the wall... and a liquid filling the space.

You panicked, only to be shushed, pressure lightly hitting your side, where their hand pushed in. A healing liquid, they explained. That their body made. It only worked on humans, back in the days when they pillaged and raided and kept them as pets.

You forced yourself to relax, sinking into the liquid, shutting your eyes. You could already feel lesd nauseous.

[voreischill]

Pred fattening up their prey via stuffing said prey with more, slightly smaller, prey.

[moodymisty]

Author's note: Inspired by this anon along with the amazing snippet @kit-williams wrote for it

Relationships: Vulkan/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Pred/Prey, Rough sex, Blood

You fall again, and the jagged rocks bite at your knees and palms. Little speckles of blood dot across your palms as you look at him, before quickly getting up and trying to run again.

A stupid mistake- now he'll be able to smell exactly where you are. He already can, you know the scent of your sweat lingers in the air like smoke, but fresh blood is like a beacon you can't get away from fast enough.

You lost him for a short while, slipping through a tunnel that wasn't large enough for him to get through. Your smaller stature remains your single advantage you have against him.

But the tunnels echo sound incredibly well, and you can sometimes hear his footsteps ringing through the system of caves. He can hear yours as well, tracking you down and gaining on you.

"Did you cut yourself? I can smell the blood,"

Entering one of the wider, huge main tunnels you look around quickly for a little rat hole to take next, trying to avoid standing like prey in the middle of such a huge area. You think you see a few options, but the one farthest down seems the smallest, and your best bet.

Rushing towards it you're almost there when you suddenly hear the sound of his footsteps thundering through the system of caves; Rocks crumbling underneath his feet.

"There you are,"

He appears at the far end of the tunnel blocking off your exit, and you nearly fall attempting to scramble backwards.

You know he's just playing, that this is just a fun game you had propositioned, but when he starts running towards you every primal, instinctual animal part of your brain tells you he's a predator- to run- you let out a bloodcurdling scream that rips through your throat and puts spittle on your lips.

Quickly you scramble towards the closest tunnel that you think can't fit him, but only by a few feet. Dug by the astartes you assume.

Vulkan however laughs at your screams, like a wolf driven by the squeaks of an limping, injured rabbit.

He's being slow on purpose, letting you run into your safe tunnel out of his reach. He's trying to extend the game on purpose and enjoy it. He could catch you in an instant if he truly wanted to, but half the fun is stalking you; Cornering you.

In a less stressful time you might find it interesting how despite him being so much softer than his fellow primarchs, there is still that latent, apex predator instinct in him that loves this. You aren't supposed to run from predators, it triggers that prey drive in them, and that's exactly what you think Vulkan is feeling when you scurry away from him. There's something in his eyes that's changed the few times you've caught sight of him since the hunt started.

"I can hear you're getting tired. How much longer do you think you can keep this up?"

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you hide, seeing him walk past the entrance you just went into.

You try to watch and listen as his footsteps trail farther and farther away, and you assume he's going to the other side of the tunnel you're in. Cautiously peeking out the way you went in you don't see him, or hear him, and quickly you scurry out to try another way.

Down the large main tunnel you run and try to ignore the burning in your throat; You're so thirsty, you'd almost consider letting him catch you to just get some water.

You don't know how long it's been- It could only have been an hour for all you know. But you're so tired, stopping in front of a step in your path.

For an astartes it would be a steep step up, but for you, it's a small climb. You jump and with a grunt manage to fold yourself onto it, legs dangling. Your feet kick trying to dig your shoe in to get purchase on the rocks, trying to wiggle higher and get the rest of your body up.

suddenly you feel the ground begin to shake, the sound of his footsteps quickly begins to close in.

You gather all the strength you can to try and clamber for more purchase on the rocks, feeling your heart begin to race as you panic. Despite everything telling you not to you turn around and see him come into view, right towards you. Once he realizes that you're partly stuck he quickens, and you let out another scream as you quickly try and pull up your other leg. But each rock you get a toe on crumbles, causing your heart and your breathing to quicken as he approaches.

You manage to get to your hands and knees on the stone only for him to suddenly grab you by the legs, and you let another another scream. Your hands dig into the dust and dirt and rocks to try and clamber away, kicking your legs at his arms. For a moment you almost don't even remember this is Vulkan- your mind is just saying run.

"You thought you could sneak around me?"

Dragging you across the stone floor to him he lets you dangle off the step, lying on your stomach while your legs hang of the edge. He's tearing at your clothes, your bottoms torn to shreds and you gasp as you feel the weight of his cock against you. The thick head of his cock slips between your outer lips and pushes against your entrance, and you feel the burn of your muscles trying to stretch while the dirt and stone scratches your skin. Your dry throat can only manage to let out a pathetic cry, one that hiccups as your parched mouth can't keep the noise smooth.

"The hunt is over, now I can enjoy the reward."

The light in he room is dim, the candles mostly melted. You watch the little flames flicker as Vulkan puts a bandage on your torn knee, patting it gently.

"You should try to fall less down there, I wouldn't want you breaking any bones."

You puff out your cheeks full of air before blowing them at him. The warmth of his palms radiates over your skin, feeling good almost as if using a heatpack on sore muscles.

"I try not to, but it's a bit hard to keep upright when a massive primarch is running at you. You're lucky I didn't crumple to the ground and let my heart give out."

Vulkan chuckles, a soft smile on his face that makes your face grow warm.

"You know I would never truly hurt you," He says, and you nod.

"I know, but it's still terrifying," You say. Vulkan moves to bandage your other knee. "I think I could go for longer next time, though." The way he looks up at you is amused but dark, implying that you want more.

"You want to do this again?" You nod, an eagerness held within it that had you embarrassingly warm.

"Of course; I know the layout of the tunnels better now, I think I could avoid you for longer." Vulkan finishes bandaging your other knee and puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"You assume I would bring you to the same tunnels?" Quickly you loose your smile.

"Yes! This is your home and you dug many of these tunnels, let me have a bit of an advantage!" Vulkan laughs, hands squeezing your hips with a comfortable pressure. You swing your legs a bit and one bumps into his stomach by accident.

"That is fair." He looks at you. "You should try not to exert yourself so soon though, I knew right away you would tire yourself out and I could corner you." You look at him curiously, holding your arms.

"You want to make it more difficult for you?"

Vulkan leans in to give you a kiss. His eyes have a bit of that darkness you saw down in the tunnels.

"No true hunter enjoys easy prey. We want a real chase."

[lesbianoms]

Hhhh ohh god fuck~ I’m in love with the concept of wlw long term melty digestion 🥵

Imagine two women who are seeing each other and the more dominant one coaxes her submissive partner into being eaten by her… she’s a bit reluctant, but does have to admit… it gives her a “funny feeling” to imagine, and she always wants to make her girlfriend happy… so she sheepishly agrees…

And after she gets swallowed, maybe she’s whining and protesting a bit… with little kicks to the inside of her gf’s big, swollen belly. The pred lets out a belch and rolls her eyes, giving her gut a teasing pat. Always a drama queen, this one. But the pred knows she’ll be fine, and so she stretches across the bed, ready to sleep off her big meal~

Throughout the night, the pred’s stomach gets louder and the prey’s muffled sounds get softer… quieter… subdued <3… she sounds almost peaceful as she gets churned by the belly of her beloved~

It doesn’t hurt, it’s just a bit of a strange experience. She moans from within the rotund belly and whimpers pitifully as her form is melting and bubbling away. And eventually, at some point in the early morning, the sounds stop all together 💕

The pred hums in her sleep and places a hand over her hard-working gut; it’s all soft and sloshy now. Her tummy lets out a long groan in response to being touched. The middle begins to sag, and there’s a big scchlrp… sssqquelch~ as what’s left of her sweet girlfriend collapses beneath those churning stomach walls. All sludge now~ ☠️🫧

In the morning the pred kneads and rubs a much smaller stomach, getting aroused by the feeling of her prey shifting around and slipping deeper into her guts for even more lengthy digestion <3

“See? I’m so happy you came around, darling~”

ggggrrr…rrRRGGL…….

Of course, when her beloved DOES come back, she’ll have to tease her and cuddle her and tell her what a wonderful evening snack she made… but for now she just enjoys her partner’s eventual dedication to making her all soft❤️🥰

[puckpocketed]

Preds propaganda time!!!!!

It's so much fun being a fan of a shit team since it's always a treat if they win and it's never too hard when they lose

It is also investment for the future when we figure out what is wrong with us and then fix it and become Super Mega Good (I am coping)

Our notable achievement of the year is that to date, we are the only team to have beaten the Jets twice!!!! We killed a 5 on 3 penalty when they have the best pp in the league in the second win!!!!!!! I will never get over this!!!!!!!!

We are brightass yellow and I have convinced myself this is a perk

I mean our vibes aren't like on par with the Sharks' level or anything but it's Smashville man it's hard to have a truly shit time there's always fun to be had

Ok time for OUR GUYS!!!!

Our goalie tandem may not have top 3 stats but they are certainly top 3 in vibes!!!!! They are both Juice!!!! There is a big juice (Justus Annunen, who we got in November from the Avs) and a little juice (Juuse Saros who is my precious beautiful talented boy. I could go on about him for ages. He is (I'm pretty sure) the smallest goalie in the nhl, he is one of the most played goalies in the nhl, his team lets him get killed every night, I love him)

Our captain is the most beautiful captain in the nhl!!! Roman Josi when will you return from IR I MISS YOU

We have Filip Forsberg, known talented goalscorer and mustache haver!!

We have Preds Edition!Steven Stamkos, which is not the same as Regular Lightning Steven Stamkos!! The former is like the playable character version of the latter's video game boss. On one hand he had a hot week recently and is a goal away from sole possession of 22nd most goals scored in the nhl all time and on the other he scored an own goal that was credited to the Islanders' Sorokin for his first goalie goal the other week.

We have Ryan O'Reilly, who everybody wants BUT NOBODY WILL TAKE HE IS OURS AND WE HAVE HIM (He was a hot topic at the trade deadline because he's so good at hockey)

Currently our top dpair is noted silver fox Brady Skjei and noted cutie patootie Nick Blankenberg (he is literally my comfort Blanky)

We have so many full time children (23 or younger) and part time children (regular callups) right now I can't go into too much detail but trust me they're all swell

That is all I have for now thank you for your consideration as always I am preds ambassador come visit me any time at my embassy (my blog) <3

~@ittybittyjuice

HELLO!! I have been saving this one I’m sorry it took so long!! Lots of things on the back burner and life is ticking on <33 Thank you so much for taking the time to write this up and send it to me I will peep at the Preds tag soon I am so excited to get to know your little guys. Some thoughts about them:

Their tragicomedy calls out to me like the scent of a home cooked meal I love when things are so sad they’re a little bit funny. wdym your gm went all-in during offseason on big fish free agents and the team exploded anyways I’d call that hammy if it happened in a TV show <- JUST REALLY FUNNY AND INTERESTING TO ME

Roman Josi.

Comfort Blanky <- ur so good at this wwhy isnt preds lb yuge

I really need to know about little Fyodor Svechkov if you have anything on him. I’ve seen two (2) silly clips of him in media and he’s my point of reference for the Preds he’s the face of the franchise to me

You’re cool as hell for reaching out to other teams on here and trying to grow your community!! (I’m a supporter of everyone’s right to be a hater of course. Personallyyyyy I think the hockey communities on tumblr become smaller, meaner, less fun spaces when we isolate ourselves. Cross-pollination is KEY!!!!)

Thanks for coming to hang out <33 you make hockeyblr a warmer and brighter place for everyone !!!

Roman Josi

[predatory-podcaster]

A couple is cuddling in bed.

One of them, much shorter than their newly-fed predator partner, elects to lay comfortably on the large, bulging stomach next to them, which provides lovely background noises to fall asleep to~

The smaller almost drifts off, encompassed by the lazy gurgles emitting from a gut hard at work digesting its meal. Suddenly, the prey begins to thrash frantically, screaming as if their life was on the line.

Oh wait. It is~

The pred's midsection lets out a wet, bubbly gurgle, which could only mean things would be getting a lot messier in there.

"Babe, I'm trying to sleep." the pred's partner complains sleepily, their voice muffled by the blanket covering them.

"Sorry, my love. I'll take care of it." they reply affectionately.

The pred places both of their hands on the sides of their abdomen before clenching hard with a strained grunt. With a few good cracks and snaps, the pred's gut is forcibly compressed, and most importantly, silenced. The prey's last breath emerges as a quiet burp escaping past their lips.

They cuddle up to one another once more, ready to have the cozy (and now, PRIVATE) cuddle session they deserve <3

* Additional idea that crossed my mind writing this

Maybe the pred's partner is absolutely, madly into vore, but they love each other and their relationship too much to practice it. So, the would-be prey lays an ear on their lover's stomach and slides under the blanket, imagining it was THEM in there. ♥️

[consumable-connie]

Bit of an older pred finding a tiny in their house and because they have fun creating little miniture houses and such they decide to create a tiny town even smaller than their tiny friend for them to have fun destroying, because well a tiny person needs to have some fun feeling big and strong sometimes. They don't spend as much time on it as they would like to since it'll he ruined either way, but they love seeing how excited the tiny looks as they break down the popsicle stick walls, throwing the wooden cars as the wooden-doll citizens, the entire experience being carthodic. The pred decides to build their tiny a house as well, and while they spend time working on it their tiny spends time inside the pred's stomach, safe and warm, and maybe a little damp. They let the tiny explore other minitures (though they aren't allowed to destroy those ones), and the tiny has fun seeing what it's like to be different sizes compared to the mockery of worlds they're put in. When their house is finished, the pred shows it off to the tiny, but the tiny has gotten so used to the pred's tummy they don't want to live there, so it simply becomes a novelty the tiny will use ocasionally when the pred is busy and can't have some prey. The pred continues making minitures and shows it off to their tiny friend, and the tiny loves to watch them work, and sometimes the miniture ends up being another little gift to the tiny little thing. It's a simple life, and the tiny loves it, and they love their big pred protector.

[snexy-the-snail]

Please can you write Percy pred? I kinda like the idea of Percy being a pred and stuff but i havent seen any fics or stories of him being pred-

–🌫

Ooo this one also got eaten by my drive I was about to cry ngl!!! I might make this into an au!!

Godhood Tastes like..Marshmellows?

Percy wasn't sure what it was, but there was a shift within camp. It has not happened recently, but over a few months. The air seemed more lively, Mr.D kept looking at him more curiously, and the group of gods eating him had asked him odd questions. His own dad was even acting weird, which wasn't exactly comforting.  

The odd flashes of tasting camp food were becoming more frequent, too, much more than usual. He sighs heavily, leaning back on the bench as the Apollo cabin leads the camp in songs, humming along as he goes to stand to get a stick and a marshmallow. He pauses, however, when a kid slumps against him. Poor thing probably tuckered out from the day.

"Passed out before the best part, kid." He teases, brushing their hair aside. A Hermes kid, judging by the messy hair and sharper features, despite being so young. He shifts slightly, not surprised to feel a warm feeling build in his chest. It usually did when he was around the younger kids nowadays.

"I'll take him to bed." He says, pulling the kid into his arms with a fond smile, Conner gives a thumbs up as Percy stands. He felt..oddly taller than usual, maybe he was getting old. It felt like he had been 17 forever now. Still, he tucks the kid against his chest, heading through the woods towards the cabins.  

The night was peaceful, crickets chirping and fireflies lighting through the air. Druids heading back to their trees for sleep. It was..peaceful. His lips quirk upwards, more so when he torches slowly come into view. The weight in his arms seemed to lessen, pausing when the kid seemed... a lot smaller.

"Alright..a little weird," he mumbles, stepping towards the Hermes cabin, freezing when he sees that the door appears smaller than usual. "More weird," he mumbles. Things seemed smaller; they really shouldn't, especially the kid, settled in the crook of his arm.  

That warm feeling in his chest turned hollow, the sudden urge to swallow the kid worming its way into his thoughts.

"Okay. Okay, not panicking oh-" He breathes out, cramming himself through the door and carefully tucking the boy into the first bed he sees. This wasn't happening. He did not just have the urge to eat a kid. He half-heartedly tosses a blanket on the bed before suddenly darting out of the cabin. 

"It's fine. It's great. I'm fine." He whispers to himself. This was just him being tired; he just needed to sleep or something. The overwhelming taste of marshmallows flooded his mouth, nearly making him trip, but he rammed into a tree he hadn't noticed. He groans as he stumbles back, the familiar feeling of warm blood on his forehead. He scowls, bringing a hand up and wiping the blood away, only to find it was gold.  

Gold.  

A hysterical laugh escapes him.  

He felt sick.  

The air didn't feel like enough. He felt like he was drowning again, stuck in that stupid muddy bog, with the earth enclosing everywhere, suffocating him, stealing his breath, and clogging his lungs. Tears burned in his eyes before streaming down his face, mixing with the shimmering of golden blood. He was a god. He was immortal now; he wasn't going to die. He couldn't. 

Gasping breaths tore from his lungs, sobs stinging his entire being.  

It couldn't be right. He was just seeing things. He takes a shuddering breath, his hands fumbling for his pocket before bringing out his weapon. A trick of the light. He took the cap off, pleading, begging for it to be a trick of the light as he made a slice on his wrist. Not only had it not hurt, but golden ichor oozed lazily out of the wound as it slowly closed up.  

He wasn't sure how long he sat there on his knees, just waiting for the pain to start, pain that wasn't coming, much to his distress. The ache in his middle, however, was sorta like pain. He latched onto the feeling nearly desperately, holding onto the discomfort and the stinging, bitter sensation that came from it. He briefly remembered the gods mentioning it. It was a feeling of emptiness or incompleteness. But it was something. Time seemed to sit still, Percy sitting there, unsure of how to even begin to process this.  

When a hand settled on his shoulder, he slowly glanced upwards. Annabeth. The tears welled in his eyes again as his girlfriend sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around him.

"Percy, hey, what's wrong?" 

Her voice felt like a breath of fresh air. He kept his arms wrapped around her, the feeling of closeness not enough. It wasn't enough; he needed to feel her warmth closer, he needed her safe, away from dangers. A shiver runs down his spine, and he gags heavily.  

"Something's wrong." He croaks out, feeling himself trembling. He couldn't do that to Annabeth, he couldn't.. He already shouldn't be getting these urges.

She didn't shove away from him, which Percy could not be more thankful for. Instead, he found that the grip was tighter, not just from his end. An arm lifts up, lightly brushing against his face, but it feels too small. He had been taller than Annabeth for some time now, but this-this was wrong. Not natural. A feeling of fingers ghosts over his forehead where the wound had been, touching the slick texture of ichor, wiping it away.

"Oh, Percy." That broke the dam again, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He couldn't feel the sting he was so used to coming with the tears, the dry feeling in his throat nowhere to be found. Every day, human things that had been annoying now made him want to sob endlessly. His grip tightens more before releasing. What if he was squeezing too hard? He couldn't precisely distinguish anything at the moment.

Annabeth still didn't leave much to his relief, instead cupping his cheeks in her hands. She was smaller. No, he was bigger. He was much bigger, and her hands were small. She was small. The pain in his gut tore into him, and despite the fear, he relished the feeling of some pain. He couldn't hurt her if he did. Percy wasn't sure what he'd do. Blame himself, sure, but the idea that he was the one who-

"Percy, breathe." Her voice was like a riptide, pulling him back into the present. It was like a cooling feeling flooding through his veins. He takes a deep breath, feeling his chest expanding as he focuses on his breathing. He didn't need to breathe; he knew that, but it still soothed him with the familiarity.

He didn't know how long they sat there.

Annabeth's arms were steady. Her voice was steady. But Percy wasn't. He felt like his insides were a puddle on strings barely holding their shape.

She held his face, brushing a thumb across his cheek like he was something precious instead of something dangerous, something she couldn't control. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth was full of sea salt and grief. He didn't know what he had thought. Were the weird cravings just stress? That the flashes of divine memory were nightmares?

Annabeth's face turned sharp, analytical. Her mind was already racing, putting pieces together. She breaks the silence of the crickets and wind through the trees.

"Did you agree to anything?" she asked, voice low.

Percy shook his head so hard it made him dizzy.

"No. At least—no one told me. I mean, there were moments. My dad's been looking at me weird. Mr. D hasn't insulted me in weeks. The other gods..." He clenched his fists. "They've been asking questions. About how I feel. If I've been 'tired' lately. Or 'disconnected.'"

Annabeth's jaw tightened.

"Like they were... preparing you."

A sour laugh twisted out of him.

"Like they were trying to warn me."

That was the worst part. It felt planned. Like the gods had already decided what he would become, and were just waiting for him to catch up. He didn't remember saying yes. But maybe you didn't need to, if you were the right kind of tool.

"I almost ate a kid, Annabeth," he said suddenly, voice hoarse. "I held him, and he felt.... I wanted to protect him, but I also wanted to-" His mouth snapped shut, and his hands shook. "I don't want to be something that does that."

Annabeth flinched as if the words physically hurt. Her hands dropped to his, fingers threading through his tightly clenched fists. "You're not something, Seaweed Brain. You're still you."

"I'm not sure that's true anymore."

"It is." She said it like a fact, like geometry. "And if it's not... then we figure out what's happening. Together."

He didn't answer, not for a long moment. But he leaned forward, burying his face in her shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo and cedarwood and a trace of ash from the campfire. It helped. A little.

"What if I forget what it's like to be me?" he asked her quietly, his voice muffled.

"Then I'll remind you. Every time," she responded without any hesitation. "Just like I did in the pit. I know who you are, Percy, and you aren't a monster." She says firmly. He doesn't dare look at her, instead swallowing thickly. The dull ache in his middle was roaring to life again. Could he not have had a second of fondness before this stupid curse thing happened?

He wanted to believe that. He really did.

Percy swallowed again, suddenly aware of how wrong his body felt. Not sick, just off. Like he'd been stuffed into something too small. His senses were too sharp. His emotions are too broad. That tearing in his middle becoming stronger. He pushes Annabeth away, standing. It was sudden, and she seemed surprised, overseeing him. She was smaller now, but he was still getting bigger. Like his body knew it would be easier with her smaller. He couldn't do this, not to her, to anyone.

"I'm going to be sick." He mumbles, turning away from her. The shifting of leaves, the light crunching of her walking to him, put every nerve he had in a whirlpool of anxiety.

He jolts, the feeling goes on his hands on his knee. Probably the only place she could reach at the moment. His head was already brushing the lower branches of the surrounding trees.

"No- I'll hurt you-"

"Percy," she said firmly, tugging his gaze back to her. "You won't."

"But I'm- look at me. I'm not-" His breath caught. A sob tore out of him, half-gasp, half-growl. "Everything's small. The trees. The doors. You-Annabeth, you're tiny."

She was. Her hands barely spanned his palm now. She'd always been small next to him, but now it was like watching a mortal speak to a statue. He fell to his knees, shaking, unsure if he could stand at the moment. Her hands grasping his own, well, more of his fingers, unable to completely wrap hers around his.

And still, her grip didn't waver.

"Then I'll yell louder," she said simply. "If you forget what matters, I'll remind you. If you can't feel your way back, I'll drag you. You're still you. I can see it in your eyes."

He wanted to believe that. Gods, he wanted to.

But the ache in his chest was spreading. Not pain. Just… emptiness. Like a void cracking wider in his core. He'd held the weight of the sky. This felt heavier. His soul was expanding in all directions, and his body was struggling to contain it, but it didn't hurt; it was just an ache.

Involuntarily, he felt his mouth water. To his horror, he could practically feel the saliva building up, needing to swallow to avoid drooling.

He finally pulled himself together enough to look at Annabeth, her gaze soft. There wasn't an ounce of fear or judgment. Instead, she stands on her tip toes, stretching up. Wordlessly, he leans down, closing his eyes as she cups his cheek with her hand. Warm. He could focus on the fact that she was warm, alive, and safe.

"You glow." She murmurs, curiosity tinging her tone. His eyes snapped open, going to ask what she meant, before he felt his cheeks flush with color. Right. Someone had explained it to him before, and even now, he could see a sea green type of color softly emitting from his mouth.

"It's..Um..I mean.." He stumbles over his words, lowering himself more. Saliva still producing at an uncomfortable rate. Of course, Annabeth would be curious. Part of him sparked with a protective rage, more directed at Athena. It was safe, so why wouldn't she want to share that with her own daughter?

Guilt bubbled up the next second. He was scared to do it, too. Terrified. She was one of the most important people in his life; he would rather die than have her harmed.

"It's a family thing, Dad...he glows, so does Triton, but gods can sorta change their innards." The more he spoke, the more he felt calm, at peace. They were just at the beach laughing at how gross the gods were, which was something normal. He takes a breath, hesitantly opening his mouth, lowering more towards her height, her hand falling from his cheek.

The soft glow illuminates her face. The tired expression she always held softened, and he could practically feel it fading away. Was this... what the gods saw? Annabeth looked so fragile right now, fragile and..tired. He lifts a hand up, brushing it against her cheek.

Without much warning, she sticks her hand into his mouth, causing him to jerk back slightly. That doesn't deter her in the slightest. Annabeth laughs; the sound is so perfect to him. His cheeks darken, the glow brightening as he leans back down. More embarrassment flooded his system when he realized a trail of saliva had clung to her hand.

"That's..gross, sorry." He mumbles, her voice wavering. Yet again, surprised when Annabeth's laughter continued, her expression full of warmth and curiosity. Oh- OH, that's right, she rarely got 'tummy time' as Conner and Travis put it.

"Not really." She says her voice is just as gentle. Her hand was back in his mouth, preventing him from answering. Her fingers splay out against his tongue, the feeling making him drool slightly. Much to his embarrassment, he noticed it glowed too. Great.

He wasn't sure where to look either, his gaze falling to Annbeth more often than not as she spread her fingers out, pressing more against his tongue, feeling the texture. He couldn't stop the muscle from twitching, curling awkwardly around her palm and wrist at times as it moved under her. Her hands weren't soft; they were rough, filled with calluses from years of weapon work.

That hollow, bitter feeling exploded in his chest, and with little thought, he swallowed, feeling her jerk forward, the sense of something foreign in his throat causing him to freeze. Just as he tensed, ready to push Annabeth back, he felt her press her other hand inside. Past his teeth, straight to the back of his mouth, causing him to swallow out of reflex, both hands firmly pressed against each other. He could barely see her anyway at this angle, her face at the entrance of his mouth.

"Eager seaweed brain?" She teases, the normalcy of her just accepting it, making it hard to fear it. She wasn't scared or begging for her life, no, it was... calm, peaceful even. Yes, being swallowed was terrifying at times, but ultimately when inside..

He swallows again, her heart beating faster. Not because it needed to, but due to habit. His hands rest on her hips as he swallows again, guiding her inside his mouth. His tongue shielding her from his teeth as his muscles pulled her into his throat.

He tried not to think about how he could feel his throat expanding with her presence, that he was swallowing her alive. He squeezes his eyes shut, getting into the rhythm of swallowing and guiding her inside. Soon, the bitter feeling disappeared as he felt her sliding into his middle. His lips closed once her feet slipped inside.

His hands hovered by his mouth, and he felt his stomach expanding. It.. shouldn't be that much, he looks to his middle, surprised to see that even if he felt like he was bursting, there was barely a bump.

"How does it feel?"

"What?" he rasps, before clearing his throat. How did he answer that? "It..I..I feel weird. Heavy like..eating a huge piece of cake", he admits after a second; his cheeks flushing when she laughs at him again. She wasn't scared or upset, she was just... relaxed.

He hesitantly rests a hand over his middle, rubbing inward like he had felt before. He jolts slightly when a weight settles more against the touch. Oh man..this was much different than he thought it would be.

"Nothing.. It's like..I just like it when we're on the couch at Mom's place, under a blanket. It's..feeling you close and feeling safe." His voice comes out in a whisper, pressing in to feel her form. He could see why his dad found this scary. Annabeth was as close as she could get, and yet he felt... like she wasn't close enough.

"That's sweet." She murmurs back, the exhaustion clear in her voice. She pressed closer, Percy able to see the vague outline of her body through his skin. It was wrong- it was wrong, he shouldn't have done-

"Selfishly.. I'm glad. This will be better than that owl."

Percy froze, unsure of what to say, before satisfaction curled around his gut like a nice bowl of soup. He would be the reason why she slept so well tonight.

A God.

He was a god now. He could be the one to soothe nightmares away, to be a protector who kept demigods safe.

Annabeth was asleep; he could tell by the slow, steady breaths. He curls slightly more around her form, relishing the warmth her being brings to him.

The stars blinked overhead like silent witnesses, their light cold and distant. Percy sat slumped under the old tree near the edge of the cabins, his back pressed to the rough bark. He had calmed, mostly. His breathing was steady now, though his fingers still twitched, as if trying to remember what panic had felt like before the ichor dulled everything.

Annabeth was still tucked deep inside his gut; her presence was his tether, the only thing keeping him from drifting entirely.

Everything was heightened now, whispers of prayers from demigods he knew, to demigods he didn't know. Tastes of offerings swirling around within his mouth. He felt like he was on high alert.

So when the grass rustled nearby, Percy's body tensed instinctively, though Annabeth didn't move other than shifting.

"Easy, Peter Johnson," came a dry, clipped voice. Then followed by a "Found him" that seemed to echo throughout the woods. Percy didn't need to look to know who it was. The voice was unmistakable, laced with irritation, boredom, and something underneath it that was far too close to concern for Mr. D.

A moment later, the air shifted. The breeze carried with it the scent of salt, seaweed, and something ancient. Percy felt it before he saw him, like the ocean pulling back before a wave hit.

Poseidon.

He raised his eyes, not knowing what to expect. His father stood there, arms crossed, trident in hand, looking…tired. Not angry. Not stern. Just quiet.

Dionysus didn't look much different than usual, save for the fact that his ever-present Diet Coke can was missing, and his eyes, instead of being unfocused or distant, were pinned directly on Percy.

"I see you've had a moment," Mr. D said, gesturing vaguely to him under the tree.

"I didn't ask for this," Percy finally muttered, voice hoarse.

Poseidon stepped forward, gaze softening. "I know."

His father knelt, lowering the trident and setting it aside in the grass. He looked different up close, not in power but in presence, less like a god and more like a man who hadn't figured out how to comfort his son. He felt normal for the first time Percy had ever met him. Was that because he was a god too? Annabeth shifts again in his gut, the movement causing him to flinch from his father's gaze.

"You've known," Percy accused, though there was no heat behind it.

"We suspected," Poseidon admitted. "The cravings. The fierceness of your protectiveness is a connection forming between you and Olympus. It's been happening slowly."

Percy swallowed hard, the taste of marshmallows in his throat sickeningly sweet. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Dionysus snorted. "Because you're dramatic, and you'd panic. Case in point."

Poseidon gave the wine god a sharp look. Dionysus raised his hands innocently before his expression shifted to something more serious." Being a god doesn't erase what you were. It just makes it harder to hold onto."

Silence followed, save for the crickets.

Percy leaned forward, resting his forehead against his knees. The feeling of Annabeth shifting brought him some peace. Safe. She was safe, but.. "I don't want this."

Poseidon placed a steadying hand on his son's back. "Then we'll find a way. You're not alone in this."

Dionysus cleared his throat. "And if you eat one of my kids, I will turn you into a grapevine. Just putting that out there."

Percy almost smiled.

Almost.

"I just wanted a marshmallow," he muttered, voice muffled in his arms.

The taste of marshmallow was the only thing he could taste. Was this godhood? Marshmallows and prayers?

A near hysterical laugh escapes him, Poseidon's gaze softening as he offers a hand to the demigod.

It takes a moment before Percy accepts it, the god pulling him to his feet. The weight inside was different, like using an unbalanced sword, only he was the sword. His hands rest on his middle, and both gods seem confused for a moment before Dionysus has an expression that is surprisingly close to pity.

"It's fine," Percy whispers, unable to keep his hands off his middle, off of Annabeth. Wisely, neither god commented on it, instead leading Percy to his cabin like some sort of bodyguard escort. It was fine. Annabeth had been willing; she was safe...right?

Almost as if she could sense his nerves, she presses closer to his hands, a sense of relief able to soothe his fears. The owl could only do so much when it came to nightmares; this had to feel better. At least Percy hoped.

He didn't say anything all the way to his cabin, taking a small breath in as he stepped inside. The inside of the cabin was quiet, washed in blue light from the glowing ceiling mural of the sea. The soft rush of waves filled the space, a comfort normally.

Now, it felt like too much.

Too loud. Too symbolic.

Too final.

Percy sat on his bed, tenderly keeping his movements smooth and calculated. Dionysus looked between the two, Percy barely hearing an odd whispering from the two.

"Well, I suppose I should make sure none of the other campers have ended up in someone else's gut." He says wryly, though his tone wasn't as sharp or bored as it normally was. Percy gave a half-hearted wave, not moving from his spot, while Poseidon stood near the window, arms folded behind his back. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

Percy finally broke the silence, his voice low.

"I thought you said I wouldn't have to be a god."

Poseidon turned slowly.

"I did. And I meant it."

"Then what the Hades is happening to me?" His voice cracked on the last word, more hurt than anger. Poseidon approached, lowering himself onto the bed opposite his son. Percy felt an odd ripping feeling to shove the god away. He was the only thing between Annabeth getting hurt and not.

"There are forces in the cosmos that don't ask for permission. You were never meant to ascend, but the Fates… they seem to have different plans."

"That's not comforting," Percy muttered. He hated how Poseidon's lips curved into something that might have been a smile, the only saving grace being that it was sad and small.

"No. I imagine it's not."

Percy leaned back against the headboard, taking in the weight in his gut, his hands protectively resting on the small lump that was his girlfriend. All he could do was stare up at the ceiling for a moment. The painted hippocampi swam lazily across the domed night sea above him. The cabin had changed since the wars had ended; it was less like a regular camp cabin and more like the undersea palace Poseidon had, though it remained the same size on the outside.

"I don't want to become like them. Like you." Percy had meant it to be sharp, but regretted his tone the moment it left his lips.

Poseidon didn't flinch. He looked at his son with a kind of acceptance that hurt worse than anger. Percy's gaze cast to his own middle inside. He was still tall, large, and wrong.

Percy hesitated, then asked the question that had been burning inside him since the ichor first touched his skin.

"Did you know this would happen when you claimed me?"

Poseidon's eyes darkened like storm clouds on the horizon.

"No. When I claimed you, I knew it would be a battle to keep you alive," he answers truthfully. Percy was thankful for the honesty. Everyone always tried to sugarcoat things, and he was done.

He didn't have an answer for that. So he said nothing.

Poseidon leaned forward slightly, his gaze more intense now. It made him a bit uncomfortable, tensing until Annabeth let an annoyed grunt out.

"But what's happening doesn't mean your humanity is lost. That is a choice. One you still get to make." Poseidon seemed dead set on that, a true force of nature. This time, however, it didn't make him feel like a drop in the ocean; it just felt like when his mom was hell bent on making sure he got back into school. Sure of herself even if it wasn't in her control.

Before Percy could respond, there was a knock at the door.

Poseidon stood and opened it, revealing Chiron in his wheelchair form, brows furrowed, his gaze falling to Percy's middle. The teen was really starting to hate this. He tries to keep the sneer off his face. He liked Chrion, he really did, but everyone staring at his middle was putting his nerves on a 10.

"You called?" the centaur said quietly.

"Come in. We need your wisdom." Poseidon nodded, stepping aside so the centaur could join them.

Chiron entered, glancing at Percy with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "I take it… the transformation has begun?"

"You knew?" Percy tilted his head. Trying to keep the hurt out of his tone as he looked at his mentor.

"I suspected," Chiron admitted. "The signs have been building. Your aura has been fluctuating, and your connection to Olympus is growing stronger. And the cravings…" His face grew more solemn. "It has happened before, I just... hoped it was not."

"That's not fair," Percy said. "I didn't ask to survive Tartarus. I didn't ask to fight Titans or giants," he hisses out, his voice growing louder with each word. He turned down godhood so many times, blatantly saying no. He hated that he felt the tears sliding down his face before he realized they were coming.

"No. But you did. And that changed things." Chiron explains, wheeling in further. Percy sank more into the bed, trying to focus on the feeling of stinging that should be coming with the tears. It didn't form, no matter how much he willed it.  

"Can it be stopped?" Percy whispers, looking between the two. When he didn't get an answer, he figured it was a no. It had already happened. He already knew he didn't need to breathe, that he had no need for a heartbeat anymore...

Percy swallowed hard. "I-" He couldn't even finish the sentence. "I wanted to and I..I did. I gave in, it almost wasn't Annabeth."

Chiron's eyes softened. "I know. The first urges are the worst. You resisted. That means something."

Poseidon rested a hand on Percy's shoulder. "It means everything. It is not an easy feeling to ignore my son." That was something that Percy knew painfully well now.

"I want to be alone." He mumbles after a second. Both of them seemed surprised until Percy pulled the covers up over himself. "Just..please, I want to pretend that I can still get tired."

Poseidon nods slowly before crossing the cabin. It's a silent affair, but Poseidon carefully lifts the blanket up further, tucking the boy in. No comments were made about the girl tucked inside him; there was just silence.

He can hear the footsteps and the creak of the wheelchair as the two leave.

The door closed behind them, leaving Percy in the soft glow of ocean light. He lay back on the bed, and the ache and bitter feeling were finally gone.

Percy wasn't sure when he drifted off.

It was somewhere between the quiet pressure of Annabeth curling deeper into him and the soft lapping of ocean waves echoing through his cabin walls. Sleep had felt distant, foreign. Gods didn't need it. But he wasn't a full god, was he?

Or maybe he was. He didn't know anymore.

All he knew was that he eventually slumped backward on the bed, hand still splayed protectively across his middle. Soft whispers filled his head, and the strong taste of marshmallow flooded his senses. It was overwhelming, at the same time, it was comforting. Voices he knew and didn't swirling in his mind as his consciousness crashed into darkness. He had never had such a silent dream before. It was... odd, it was so quiet.

The taste of marshmallows was the last thing he recognized before he fully drifted off.

[sober-stupid-shithead]

Had this idea on the mind that Ratchet has to eat a mini!Optimus to warm him up :3 kinda like that time he almost died of cold in the TFP show. So, willing pred, unwilling prey :3c

I hope this inspires you some!!!

👍

WOO! FINALLY FINISHED THIS ONE! I'm sorry it took so long, but I'm preparing to be VERY busy this year. Tysm for the ask though, its a super cute idea :3

I went a little bit emotional with this? Ratchet and Optimus just make me wanna throw up sobbing because I love them so much and their relationship is so complex. I apologize if it's a little out of character for that reason, but I think I did pretty good. Also the prompt behind what got him nommed makes NO sense but just pretend ok 💔 (also healing stomach trope how I love you)

(CW: vore, mild description of robotic injury, unwilling prey, safe/soft)

Ratchet just knew this mission had been a mistake. Too many risks, not enough information. But of course Optimus had insisted, and now look where they were.

They hadn't had enough time to decipher the coordinates of the next relic Megatron was after before it was already too late. In a mad dash to destroy the massive cannon that had been uncovered, Optimus decided to go alone in fear of needlessly endangering his teammates. He had of course instead needlessly endangered himself in the process. He had mass displaced himself to be able to sneak onto the Nemesis and dismantle the weapon from the inside.

Fortunately, despite how stupid the plan sounded it had worked. Unfortunately, Optimus had been found by the Decepticons and only managed to escape via jumping off the ship and down into the tundra plains below. His smaller size had made him much more susceptible to the cold, and his injuries only added to that. He was in near critical condition.

"Bulkhead, out of my way!" Ratchet yelled as he barreled through the base, a tiny Optimus cradled in his arms. He hadn't wasted a second of time once the ground bridge was open. He had a job to do and nobody would get in his way, accident or not.

He laid his leader down on the operating table and quickly swiveled the lamp usually used for surgery close above him, hoping the heat from the light would help keep him warm. He waved his servo over the frozen mech to scan his chassis, and… the injury report wasn't good. His chassis was dented in, several enegon tubes had ruptured, and his body was at far too dangerous of a temperature.

"Ratchet…" The small Prime murmured, optics flickering as his systems were struggling to stay awake.

"Don't waste the energy, Optimus." The medic snapped back, tapping furiously away at his monitor to figure out the best way to deal with all this. As greatly worrisome and dangerous as his injuries were, they were all well within the realm of fixing for a mech as seasoned as Ratchet, the problem was his size. Optimus didn't have the energy to revert his mass displacement, and even if he did he wouldn't be able to while his systems were nearly frozen solid. They needed to heat him up and fast.

For a moment the medic stalled. Nothing in the base would be able to heat Optimus up in time without hurting him. No form of fire would be safe while he was leaking energon, and no entirely safe alternatives were at all close enough to a Cybertronian's internal temperature…

A Cybertronian's internal temperature.

Maybe all was not lost.

He had tried it a few times before when their human allies needed first aid, but he'd never done it to one of his own kind before. There were a lot of preliminary tests that should be run before he could make sure the idea was totally safe, but they didn't have the time. He would just have to try it and see how it went. And ignore how guilty he felt for making an injured Optimus Prime be his test subject.

Ratchet halted his typing and stared at the holoscreen for brief second of hesitation. He sighed with resignation and looked over his shoulder to where his tiny leader lay. "I need to stabilize you as fast as I can so you can revert your mass displacement. Optimus… I'm sorry, but this is for your own good."

He stepped over to the medical slab and scooped him up onto his servos, faceplate creased with worry. He was freezing to the touch and so, so small. It was uncomfortable to see a Prime in such a vulnerable position.

"Old friend… What do you mean?" Optimus said in a soft, raspy voice. It was obvious he was straining to even be heard.

"Just relax, Optimus. You'll be alright." Ratchet hushed, bringing the tiny leader up to his face. He wanted to explain more, but they really didn't have the time. Instead, he simply opened his mouth and gently maneuvered Optimus's pedes onto his glossa. He was so cold that the medic nearly flinched in discomfort, but he didn't stop. He did his very best to be careful when moving such a small, injured body, but he knew it couldn't have felt great. The short moment of shocked silence between the two didn't help his rapidly mounting guilt either.

"Ratchet, I do not-"

Optimus was silenced by two comparatively massive jaws closing around him. Ratchet froze for a second, metaphorically swallowing down his panic and trying his best to not yet swallow down his own Prime. He knew one of the other team members was probably looking on in horror, but he tuned it all out. Only one mech mattered right now. Optimus was so cold against his glossa that it made his denta ache. The medic purposefully increased his oral lubricant production to coat the mech in the warm, protective substance. He could feel tiny servos weakly pressing against the roof of his intake, but he ignored the sign of protest and tilted his helm back.

He didn't want to accidentally make Optimus's injuries worse with the strong metal muscles in his throat, so he simply relaxed and let gravity guide his patient down. It was very strange, but he was mostly used to it. He closed his optics with an exvent of relief, a familiar feeling of protectivness wafting over him as the mini mech slid slowly into his tank. Only when he was sure Optimus had made it far enough to his destination did he swallow the leftover saliva and open his mouth with a sigh. There was another brief second of silence between the two, and a slow dropping sensation let him know Optimus was laying down once again.

"I apologize for doing that without warning, but it was the quickest way to warm you up… I hope you can forgive me." Ratchet murmured, instinctively placing a servo over his middle. He turned on all his internal scanners and flipped on a live feed, keeping the window open in the corner of his vision to keep an eye on how Optimus was handling things.

"It is… Alright." The Prime sighed, too exhausted to even care at this point. He was safe enough to recharge and heal, and that was all his aching processor cared about. Through the feed Ratchet could see him shutter his optics and relax into the soft mesh snugly hugging his frame. The internal fluid levels slowly rose until it was halfway up his shoulders, soaking all his major injuries.

Another massive wave of giddy relief washed through the old medic as he read the readings from the scanners inside his tank. All wounds were sealing off because of the healing agent in his stomach enzymes and his temperature was rapidly rising. In a few hours he would be able to retrieve him for aided mass displacement and surgery. Thank Primus himself.

"D-Did you just… Eat him!?"

Ratchet whirled around in surprise to be met with an even more shocked Smokescreen. He sighed again, this time in exhaustion. Time to explain himself.