#seytazen’s asks

[seytazen]

“Is that blood?” tfp ratchet with any of the humans

Ratchet remembers the first time he ever had seen human blood. He had been a medic a long time and had seen many gruesome things. He had repaired those gruesome things and it had never bothered him in the slightest. For a very long time, he didn’t think there was anything that would ever really squick him out. That is, until he started learning of all things that made up humans.

He remembered physically recoiling when June had described to him what their internals were actually like. How a human was really just a complicated bag of various goo, fluids, and stuff that was squishy which was piloted by an even more complicated mound of squishy-ness that did all of these things by exerting various chemicals and electrical impulses.

And all of it was wet.

All the time.

He had turned his back for a mere moment. He swears it wasn’t even 60 seconds. He had turned his optics away from them to glance at some tests he had running a few meters away from him while he supervised the children playing around on the floor when he heard the sickening thud, followed by a wail of pain.

Every medical protocol he had yanked his attention a million different ways when he turned around to see Miko sitting on with her knees now exposed and bearing several red streaks. He had paused seeing the streaks noting that the fall had torn her clothes. He distinctly remembered thinking about how he didn’t know that humans could get paint transfers… and where had the red come from?

“Ow ow ow!!!” She whined loudly, sitting back on her hands, which also bore similar streaks. Ratchet frowned, kneeling down next to her with a soft sigh as Jack and Raf both went running for the first aid kit.

“Are you alright?” He asked her, frowning at the sharp smell that was suddenly permeating through the air. It tanged in his olfactory sensors in a way that was similar to iron. It was a sticky metallic scent that clung to him. That’s when he saw the small red droplets beading up from the streaks, how they fell against her form in a small flow.

His optics had widened when the pieces clicked together. The brilliant red substance dribbled from the cuts, seeping into the cloth. How it dribbled on the floor, leaving hot droplets of red.

He had soothed Miko over relatively easily by holding her in his hand while she looked at how many seams and different plates his servos were made up of. She and him had talked about how his servos were made differently, made to be more sensitive and with more refined motor skills. The treatment had been more painful than the initial injury is what he had gathered.

How he wished that were the case now.

He couldn’t even begin to piece together why and how he had gotten himself here. How the team was off somewhere else, he didn’t even know if they were together or not. Now, it was dark and humid with fog around him around him, and his vents came heavy and unevenly. He struggled to calm them and to make his frame be quiet when he ducked into the brush and slid down into the dried river bed hurriedly, Fowler remained somewhat limp in his cupped hands. He pressed him close against his chest, covering him as he shut his optics tightly to eliminate the light they emit and he held his breath.

The choppers thundered over head and engines roared around them. Bright search lights illuminated through the fog. Human voices drifting around them for a terrifying moment before they all moved on to search deeper in the wooded area they were in. Ratchet waited an agonizing moment, listening to them disappear over the horizon, listening to the deafening silence they left in their wake. He counted the hundreds of seconds between that time before he dared to open his optics again. He sagged against the wall of dried mud before he carefully unfolded his servos in the dark. The dim moonlight and the soft cyan glow from his optics illuminated them along with the human in them faintly.

“I think we lost them…” he told him in a soft hushed voice, his free servo traveling to his audial to comm base but unfortunately he was met with only static. He carefully set Fowler on his shoulder as he continued to try. “My comm must have been damaged in the initial skirmish. Do you still have your…” he trailed off when he heard just how labored Fowler’s breathing was. “Fowler…?” He asked softly, turning his helm and watching as his silhouette struggled with the jacket wrapped around him. That was when the smell hit him. It drifted up to meet him, coy and metallic, clinging to the inside of his vents. “Is… Is that blood?” He asked softly.

“Got a light, doc…?” He asked weakly, his voice was trembling in pain. Ratchet dug in his subspace grabbing the small flashlight typically used to check optic reaction. Mentally, he hoped that the smell was being worsened by something. That it was just a scrape or a cut. He flipped it on with a small click. His ground his denta together upon seeing the dark red stain spread across the white button up all up his right side.

Cold nausea gripped his internals and his spark seized in a long forgotten kind of panic. It was the kind of panic that experience had worn away for him. The panic that he chastised young medics for getting lost in. The kind of panic that made him scream at people to get out of his medbay and out of his way. It was a cold kind of terror that made it hard to remember how to move or think, and you could only stare helplessly as it engulfed you.

“Damn fuckers shot me,” he explained still rather shaky as he undid the button up with stiff, clammy hands and clumsily took it off of him. His audials were ringing a little bit from the dread coursing through him. He had never seen a human lose so much blood before. A snapping sound caught his attention again. He blinked looking down at Fowler. “Hey, I know it looks bad, but you gotta help me out doc. Do me a favor, tear this into strips, alright?”

Ratchet silently nodded, mentally chastising himself for losing his thoughts. The smell was getting worse. Much worse. He propped the small light up on a divot in the riverbed as he worked, tearing the small piece of fabric into strips like he was asked. He noticed the shiny red gleam that had seeped into the many seams and joints on his hands. He could feel the wetness now that it was cooling off in the cool damp night air. He carefully collected Fowler from his perch on his shoulder so the human could have more room. Fowler grimaced and grunted in pain as he worked to pack the wound down and wrap a strip around himself to apply pressure.

“Here, use help me put more pressure on this, it’s too painful for me to do it myself,” he grunted, gesturing towards Ratchet carefully pressed his thumb over the leaking wound. Fowler groaned in pain, tightening his grip on the plating on the medic’s servos.

Ratchet and him sat in the dimly lit silence for a long time. Ratchet focused on Fowler’s breathing, noting how it was still shaky and irregular. “Fowler?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“Is this… fatal?” He asked.

“Maybe… if I don’t get some medical help soon,” he replied with a nervous pained chuckle.

“What do I do if…” Ratchet trailed off, not really being able to finish the sentence. He hated this feeling of helplessness.

Fowler hummed faintly letting his head roll back all the way. “If I pass out, keep pressure on the wound and take me to June if you can... If I stop breathing… well then I guess I’m shit outta luck and you did everything you could. Prime will find us, and you’ll take me back to base so I can be buried in a flag. But, hey, I’m not dead yet. I still got some fight in me and Prime is gonna find us. Got it?”

Ratchet met his eyes. He shifted slightly, giving him a small smile and a nod, merely hoping he was right. He cupped him close to keep him shielded from the chilly breeze as they made small talk while while the fog settled around them, hiding them from hostile eyes as they waited to be rescued or for dawn to break.

[seytazen]

Could you do “You are crushing me right now.” with Wheeljack and Bulkhead?

Jackie knew that pestering Bulk could end up this way, but usually he was a lot more forgiving. He grunted trying once again to swing around to knock him on the helm to try and tricking up into letting him go. “Get….offffff….” He groaned. Bulk smirked, crossing his arms smugly. Wheeljack laid on his front with Bulkhead sitting square on the middle of his back. He had been hoping to temp BUlk into a good ol’ game of roughhousing but instead, he had found himself trapped under a certain green wreckers big aft.

“No can do.”

Jackie huffed squirming under him, trying to push himself into a position where he could roll Bulk off, but his joints only creaked loudly in protest to the strain. He flopped back down. “You fragger.”

“Hey, you started it,” Bulk replied with a shrug. “I’ll wait all day.”

“You are literally crushing me right now. You’re so fragging heavy-“ he wheezed once again trying to squirm out from under him. “Miko!!” He called out into the the open door to the training room and into the main room.

Bulk chuckled clunking him on the top of the helm. “Miko ain’t gonna come save you, buddy. You know what ya gotta say~” he smirked.

Wheeljack huffed, turning his helm to look up at him. He gave a small jeerlike pout with a soft, “tch.” Bulk raised an optic ridge at him in turn shifting more of his weight onto Jackie. His plating groaned under the added weight. He grit his denta trying to tough it out but it was getting a little painful. “Ahhhh alright! Alright! You win you two tonn bucket of bolts for brains!” He wheezed tapping his servo on the ground.

Bulk smirked and stood with a grunt, letting Jackie roll onto his back with a relieved sigh. “Love ya, Jackie,” he chuckled.

Jackie huffed cracking an optic open and staring up at Bulk. “Heh. Love you too, asshole.”

[seytazen]

For the physical affection prompt how aboutb 25 playfully biting someone with optimus and ratchet?

Optimus walked around the corner of the hallways connecting all of their personal quarters to the main room, a datapad secured in one servo. “Ratchet?” He called out into the empty corridor. There was no answer. It didn’t exactly strike him as odd. He knew base was mostly empty save for Fowler working away in his office and Ratchet working away at the console. Perhaps he had just gotten engrossed in some work. He stepped into the empty room looking around, finding it empty. He frowned looking back and forth from the medbay corner to the computer, which remained in sleep mode, displaying the autobot insignia against the green pixels.

“Ratchet…?” He called again, making his way though the room. His optics narrowed in concern. It wasn’t like Ratchet to simply leave his post without telling him.

The back of his neck prickled as he picked up on some movement behind him. He froze for a moment listening closely. They had been quiet rush of air. Another soft strained sound. He warily expanded his field trying to pinpoint the disturbance. He turned around, looking back towards the medbay again, his optics cycling restlessly. He slowly approached the corner where he thought he had heard something move, his servos raised in caution. A stray scraplet that survived the infection, perhaps?

He picked up the disturbed tool box only to find nothing. He hummed, frowning. Maybe he was just being overly cautious. The back of his neck prickled again, a soft giggle emitting from behind him. He paused when the fleeting touch of a familiar field brushed against the edge of his, full of mischief and anticipation. Any apprehension he had melted away. The Prime let a small smile tuck at the corners of his mouth as he followed the playful field around the other corner and into the training room.

“Ratchet, I know you’re here,” he chuckled softly looking around. “I just saw you sneak in, there’s no fooling me.” He took another few steps into the large empty room, scanning back and forth, paying attention to the edges of his field. A glimpse of white in the corner of his optic startled him. Suddenly servos were on him and he was being pushed down. He landing on his front, taken by surprise.

The warmth of another frame pressed against his lower back, strong servos pinning his shoulders down, and the sharp sting of denta sinking into the tip of his audial final made him gasp. A kiss soothed over the new indention, he felt their owner smile impishly against the sensitive metal. “Got you~” Ratchet purred in his audial. Warmth washed over him. He was correct, he had been ‘got.’

“That you did,” he chuckled, tilting his helm to eye him. Ratchet smirked and let go of him allowed him to sit as he stood, crossing his arms smugly. Optimus gave him a small roll of his optics but reached up and took his servos in his, pulling him down, into his lap. Ratchet let out a small laugh. “I take it I’m forgiven for being a nuisance?”

“Always,” Optimus replied, pressing a small kiss to his forehelm and wrapping his arms around him tightly.

[seytazen]

For the meme: 50 “I didn’t know where else to go."

Go ahead and resend this ask with a character for me to do lol

[seytazen]

TFP Request

Family headcanons featuring June Darby and Optimus, the Giant Alien Robot Space Dad ™️.

Ooooh fluff gimme yes please

June and Optimus come off as platonic parents and they are very close friends. They’ve kinda fallen into these roles for them but they don’t mind in the slightest. They take a lot of pride in the unsaid titles.

June is much more strict than Optimus. I’d like to think she’s the one making the kids eat healthy and bath regularly, and she’s the one who’s paying attention to grades a little closer. She’s also trying to make sure the kids have a good future lined up for them.

Optimus is way more lenient. He’s a giant teddy bear push over that’s what he is. The war has made him want to spoil the kids from time to time because it’s been so long since he’s seen that youthful joy. One thing you gotta know about Optimus is that before the war he was really adamant he would be a terrible creator and it was only after he stumbled into raising Bee, he realized that he was actually really good with sparklings and that parenthood was something he really wanted.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Optimus knows how to put his foot down, but for silly trivial matters? Ha! Yeah he’ll do what he can. He did go back for Raf’s snowball after he got better and that’s how everyone found out he’s a softie for children.

June is an experienced mother, and obviously Jack is her son, but she can’t help but feel the beginnings of empty nest syndrome with Jack getting ready to start going to college soon, so she kinda scoops Raf and Miko up along with her. She keeps in contact with their parents, but keeps the whole alien thing on the DL. This is mainly so she can kinda monitor how the kids are coping with getting involve with war.

June knows about Optimus and his want for family, and she gets a few details about it here and there that not even Ratchet knows about, like the fact he thought he would be a terrible creator because he was a feral sparkling for a long time before Alpha Trion backed him into a corner and raised him. He loved Alpha Trion very much as a creator but he also is aware that Alpha Trion was morally gray at best sometimes, and had no problem taking the most efficient way to whatever he deemed was needed at any cost. Optimus is aware that Alpha Trion isn’t the best rolemodel and he fears about his questionable tactics seeping into his own.

June is the one that reassures him because her parents were kinda crappy too and she turned out to be an okay parent.

Optimus is the more emotional parent between them. He’s the better listener out of the two of them because June is constantly interjecting her opinion or suggestions of what she thinks could help. Optimus is a great listener and best at giving advice without making you feel like you’re being patronized.

Hope this was what you were wanting! ❤️

[seytazen]

💖😋🛌 For Ratchet

Happy Headcanon:

Ratchet actually really likes cleaning. He likes the smell of cleaner, and he likes everything being spotless, and he loves organizing. It’s satisfying, it’s healthy for the team, and it gives him something to do in the lull of activity and when he can’t bring himself to tinker. Even the human area is quiet literally spotless and dust free. It really gives him a sense of accomplishment- he will however- kick your ass if you track mud on his freshly mopped and polished floor.

A silly Headcanon:

Ratchet had a pole dancer phase. No one will ever change my mind that he learned how to dance either for some fast cash while he was still a trainee under Remedy, or for a party trick, or for the hell of it but he learned how to do it. He figured out it helped him with his upper body strength and flexibility and he just kept doing it because it was kinda fun, it made him feel pretty good about himself, and he got the bonuses of still keeping fit for battle.

He is obviously a lot stronger than he looks, he can lug around bots that are a lot bigger than him too. Not only that, but look at the way he fights. He knows how to handle himself in the air and upside down, and he knows how to manipulate his body around and he knows how to keep himself aware of where he’s at in a space. Take a look at the fight scene in Stronger, Faster and tell me I’m wrong. Chemical Enhancement boosts your physical output, yes, but you can’t just take steroids and gain knowledge like that.

Sleep Headcanon:

This mech does not know what sleep is. He goes balls to the wall until he’s ready to fucking collapse. But when he does sleep, he’s fitful. Not in the sense of he’s a light sleeper, but in the sense that any blankets or pillows are on the ground when he wakes up. He’s in a totally different position than he fell asleep in. How the hell did the sheets get tangles around his ankles???