#wAIT A FRICKIN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lets-try-some-writing · 1 year ago

Note

Your pretender au is probably one of my favorites. You are an excellent writer but I have to ask. Ratchet is a good medic. Does he ever notice?

Would Optimus ever have to replace Ratchet with something pretending to be him? Can other bots be replaced like Orion was?

If that wasn’t your intention with the story I’m sorry it just gives such a good horror vibe of this secondary eldritch race replacing them or maybe it’s Primus’s next stage in evolution or maybe it’s unicron infiltrating.

Also just as a bonus, how would the humans react if pretender Optimus and Bee were finally revealed while on earth?

I gotchu buddy. I will forever expand on my precious pretender au. And don’t you worry, this was 100000% my intention with this AU. I will need to get to your last little question in another post, but don’t worry, it's all coming together o(^▽^)o

Previous part here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Ratchet knew the moment the supposed Prime arrived that he was not Orion Pax. He had been one of Orion’s closest friends. He could sniff out a fake without so much as rebooting his optics once. In light of this, his very first instinct was to interrogate the fragger to find out who sent him and then promptly drop his body in a ditch somewhere. At least that way Orion could rest in peace.

That was Ratchet’s plan, but then the fake presented the Matrix of Leadership and had the relic confirmed by the Primacy priests. It was legitimate. He was a true Prime, even if he wore the face of one who should have been dead. With that in mind, there was no way Ratchet could kill him. The fake did not hesitate to take up the position Orion left behind, quickly becoming the leader the Autobots desperately needed. Optimus never attempted to leech off Orion’s old connections or otherwise abuse the legacy he’d stolen, and for that reason, Ratchet let him be. He had no clue how Optimus had gotten Orion’s face and memory, but whenever he attempted to dig into any files and ask Jazz about Orion’s situation before death, the results came up unsatisfactory.

Of course, Ratchet did not need to search in vain for long. As soon as the Prime began turning up on the battlefield and subsequently required medical attention, Ratchet quickly found out just what he was dealing with. Optimus’s CNA was a convoluted mess that shouldn’t have even been capable of producing a living being. There were strands from Shapeshifters, Insecticons, and even a small amount of Predacon within the Prime’s genetic code. There seemed to also be a bit of Cybernetic flora mixed into his CNA, but it was all so jumbled that Ratchet could hardly make sense of it. Orion’s CNA was like an accessory, a veil that hung over the monstrosity that Optimus really was.

But Optimus had already proven to be highly intelligent, and he did not allow Ratchet to so much as record his findings. Clawed digits dug into his shoulders and mandibles clicked together ominously behind him as Ratchet looked over the scans he’d taken during Optimus’s examination. Every part of Ratchet screamed at him to run from the predator behind him. He could feel optics glaring at him, hot events brushing over his neck, and a rattling voice that sounded as though it were a sick mockery of his friend giving one order.

“Keep this to yourself, old friend. If you wish for your kind to be preserved, my nature must remain between us alone.”

Ratchet did his best to not shake, but the command rang out in his audials, causing his spark to spin in terror. He did not look behind him, he couldn’t bear to. He watched the screen in front of him, his optics on the distant reflection of the thing behind him. It was blurry and difficult to make out, but there were claws, fangs, optics, and mandibles that did not belong. He did not move from his prone station until he heard the definitive sounds of transformation and a dull almost comforting hum from the being behind him.

“Calm yourself. I mean no harm to your people. My purpose is to preserve, to protect… and to ensure that never again may you fellow creations of Primus enslave yourselves to the whims of your own desire.”

Dangerous digits ran along the side of his audials in what could have been a fond manner before the creature that proclaimed itself a Prime left the medical bay without another word. Ratchet remained still, watching the CNA scans as a biological hologram pretended itself.

He feared what he saw.

Hidden behind an armored disguise was a being that was in no way Cybertronian. The computing program projected the image of a monster, one Ratchet could not find it within himself to look at for long. It was just a prediction, but beneath his shining shell, Optimus’s appearance was horrific at best. The predictions spoke of a long gangly build with extra arms and two jointed legs not too dissimilar to Soundwave’s. It had a hard shell almost akin to a carapace but with plenty of thin transformation seams where outer armor folded away. Three sets of optics were on a face filled with fangs and covered in mandibles. On the thing’s back were spines that extended down its back and developed into vicious looking raptorial claws that jutted out from around the base of the shoulders. The only familiar things present in the prediction were the colors the thing bore, the familiar finials, and the same optical structure Ratchet knew his deceased friend to have.

A being that masqueraded as one of their own… one that was capable of doing any number of horrific things to further its own unintelligible goals. Ratchet shuddered at the implications, but he closed and deleted every single scan after a few kliks of observing what he had discovered.

He would wait. He would see what Optimus wanted. Then when he stepped over the line, Ratchet would act and use what he knew to his advantage. Whatever Optimus was… he had Cybertronian roots in his CNA. Despite being a convoluted mockery of that which Ratchet and his people were, that simple fact ensured that toxins and disease were likely still viable options when it came to eliminating the threat. And so that is what Ratchet prepared for. Vorns were spent dutifully crafting the ultimate plague, one he carefully ensured was tailored to Optimus’s CNA specifically. No others would die should it be unleashed, just Optimus Prime.

It was a foolproof plan, one Ratchet had every intention of enacting as the war dragged on, peace treaties fell through, and Optimus’s sick tests put him and Jazz through all kinds of torture that thankfully were reserved for them alone. It was easy to see that Megatron would likely be willing to stop the war effort if he could kill Optimus. Somehow, he’d learned the truth regarding what the Prime was. Ratchet could see it in his optics when he flew forward in rage. If Optimus died, the truth would come out and the war could come to an end. Ratchet was not happy with the idea of Megatron ruling Cybertron, but in the face of the threat Optimus posed?

He was willing to compromise.

He spoke with Jazz and silently he selected a date to unleash his plague. But then, out of the blue, Optimus vanished. He was known for leaving for extended periods of time, but this was new. For six stellar cycles not a spark knew where he was. Ultra Magnus held the army together and Jazz wove a few lies to keep everyone calm, but Ratchet only felt relief. There was a looming fear of what was to come, but he enjoyed the lack of predatory presence for a time. And then of course, Optimus Prime returned carrying something in his arms.

“What in Primus’s name is this?”

“He is what you would call a sparkling.”

“Where did you find him?”

“I did not find him.”

“What… does that mean?”

“This one is mine. Tend to him in my absence.”

Ratchet’s plans shattered into a million pieces as he held the sparkling Optimus brought with him. The little one had wide blue optics, so trusting and so innocent. And yet when he smiled in his attempts to coo at him, Ratchet saw fangs and small mandibles hidden within the sparkling’s intake. His servos shook as he caressed the little one’s helm, coolant gathering in his optics as he came to a harsh realization. This was Optimus’s spawn, the precious life within his arms was another abomination. Despite that, the little one had not asked to be created the way he was.

Ratchet couldn’t kill a sparkling.

The plague vial was hidden and Ratchet gave a series of encrypted codes to Jazz which would lead to its location. The spy was no master decryptor, he would need time and a great deal of expertise to find the location Ratchet had imputed onto the drive containing the codes. That simple fact ensured that in the worst case… there would at least be time to get Bumblebee away. He may have been an abomination like his Sire, but Ratchet could not bring himself to do anything but treat the sparkling with love. He tended to him while Optimus went off to war, he taught Bumblebee how to read and write in numerous dialects, he showed Bumblebee their stories and their culture, and he took all the time in the world to make sure that should all else fail, a piece of what Cybertron was would remain.

Optimus was a monster, but he cared for his spawn in a strange sense. He brought Bumblebee strange substances to consume, and sometimes he would take Bumblebee away for cycles at a time. Upon their return, Ratchet would quickly take scans and note a disturbing amount of Cybertronian protomatter within the sparkling’s tanks. He never commented, he merely rocked Bumblebee into recharge and sang him songs while trying not to look when Optimus began to grow harsher. No matter how much his spark cried out when Bumblebee was beaten or neglected by his Sire, Ratchet did not act. He refused to. He couldn’t risk it. Over and over he tried to remind himself that killing Optimus would likely only lead to Bumblebee’s death as well.

He refused to kill the sparkling he helped raise. As such, as vorns passed, Ratchet’s tolerance broke and he made one rash decision.

“Ratchet! Where are we going!?”

“Away from here! Don’t fight me Bumblebee!”

“What about Optimus?!”

“He’s not coming. I am going to take you far away from this plasma pit of a world until we can deal with things here. Don’t worry, I won’t let them kill you.”

“I don’t understand!”

“You don’t need to. Just remain quiet and live in silence until I recall you. Then… then I will plead for your life before whoever rules our world.”

He knew it was a death sentence, but Ratchet had to take the risk. He dragged Bumblebee kicking and screaming toward the space ports with every intention of putting the youngling into stasis and shooting him to some far off world. Once that was done, he would unleash his plague and wait until he was sure every other abomination was dead. Only then would he retrieve Bumblebee and proceed to plead for his life. It was a weak plan, but perhaps, if Primus was willing, he might be able to find a way to make Bumblebee normal. It all depended on his desperate attempt to get the youngling off world.

Ratchet did not have that chance.

“What are you doing with my creation?”

“Optimus! Stay back!”

“You know too much, and your loyalty has proven to be fickle.”

“Get away you abomination!”

“You have served your purpose, old friend. I believe it is time for another to take your place.”

Optimus grabbed him just before he reached the spaceports with his charge. Ratchet recalled very little of what followed, but next he knew, he was bound to a slab in some facility he did not know. Above him Bumblebee smiled at him eagerly and Optimus stared down at him with calculating optics. The Prime held a larva of some sort in his servos. It couldn’t have been bigger than a digit, but evidently that was as large as it needed to be to burrow into his processors through his right optic.

He remembered screaming. He remembered feeling nothing but agony for cycles afterwards. He remembered gaping in horror as he ran scans on himself and found the same symptoms Orion Pax had presented. Most importantly, before his recollection faded into nothing but waves of torment, he remembered Optimus calling out to him, telling him that all would be well.

He did not know how long it took, but as he purged energon and organs alike and felt the sweet embrace of death, he smiled, content in the knowledge that Jazz would know. The spy would tell someone, he would give them a chance. All he needed to do was look at the drive Ratchet gave him and decode it. Then-

-Their people would have a chance.

━━━━━━

━━━━

━

It did not have a designation when it woke. But it knew instinctively that it was hungry. Energon was given to it by those its code recognized as kin, and it devoured. It sensed another who was not of its kind observing, but that one fled soon enough. Then, once it had finished consuming, it stood up in its new frame and met the gazes of those who were also of its line.

“Hail Hierarch.”

Its speech was disjointed as it settled into itself and the memories of its host began to funnel into it, but as the Hierarch leaned down and placed his servo on its helm, it was at peace.

“Hail Ratchet, second born of our line. With the knowledge you have inherited, we shall thrive.”

Ratchet? That was a fine name. It was the name of its host. A smile crept across it- no, HIS face as he settled. He would surpass his host, he would serve, and by the grace of their maker, he would ensure their survival on a world filled with those not of them.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #jazz #pretender au #body horror #mystery #angst #character death #yeah have fun with this #I have a whole frickin plan for this au #a good end #a bad end #and an end where no one gets what they want #in the meantime enjoy more build up before everyone heads to earth in the next installment!#I've waited long enough

106 notes · View notes