GT Trope Game, Parents (P. 1)

GT Trope Game, Parents (P. 1)

Thank you for the suggestion @oliveth3b0rrower! These giants are taking a hands off approach to their resident borrower. Knowing how scary they would seem, especially to a child, they refrain from revealing themselves.

AHHHH just reveal yourselves already this child needs your help you can SEE how clueless they are!

Once again, Comment, DM, or Ask, for your favorite GT trope to be drawn, get as creative and niche as you want, I'm open to drawing pretty much anything, so go wild! I wanna draw some unique things!

Absolutely, Aster is not very happy but they do get their revenge.

Grabs you by the scruff

UNHAND ME YOU CRETIN

I’ve written the 3rd chapter of You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide (planning to post it tomorrow) but I also got another idea for something that happens next. It would be a small arc taking up maybe 2-3 chapters.

I couldn’t decide whether to post this next bit as a new work or another chapter of the current work, so I’m putting it up to a poll.

I’m curious if anyone would be interested in me posting the alternative versions of some of my works/chapters here on Tumblr?

To elaborate, I generally go through 2/3 versions of events for a chapter- ie. I’m currently working on chapter 4 of Optimus’ Travels and I’m on version 3 right now. Each has had different things that would happen.

They wouldn’t be long- just the general idea of what the chapter was going to be and any snippets I wrote. Thoughts?

The human, knowing that the bots see them the way humans see dogs: Please?

Ultra Magnus, crumpling like a coke can: Fine, just this once.

The human, doing this for the 14th time: Thank you!

They’ve all learned the subtle art of manipulating giant robots that have no actual idea what is good for them or not. Poor Ratchet is relying on humans being honest when he asks and they’re all very good at just lying their way through it.

Human: Treats are absolutely mandatory or else they’ll die Ratchet. Everyone knows that.

Ratchet: I can tell you’re lying, but I don’t have the knowledge to say you’re wrong.

Somewhat inspired by my last reblog, imagine First Contact 'bots not knowing what is and isn't okay for humans to eat, and being overly cautious about anything and everything their charges want to eat.

Human: *chewing*

Bot: "What's in your intake?"

Human: "..." *chewing faster*

Bot: "HEY, STOP THAT!"

This idea has been my brainrot for months! If you've ever been on reddit, or tiktok lately you might have seen a funny subreddit titled "humans are space orcs". Well I fell inlove with that headcannon, so I wanted to put in the request for poly ratchet and drift with a human reader, reader had stowawayed on the lostlight and was lucky enough that the ship was being supplied oxygen, with occasional stops giving the chance for reader to go out and grab some supplies.

Long story short reader ends up getting caught in the medbay, battered and bruised, and gets stuck in a staring contest with ratchet, who is bewildered.

(I also find the comparison of cybertronians being possible scared of humans, like a elephant is of mice)

And my first request after my little hiatus! I apologize for the wait :) This was a fun idea to work with! This description matched the First Contact AU pretty perfectly so this accidentally became a First Contact fic, sorry if that’s not what you were looking for HAHA. Still though, i hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader, First Contact AU

“And how did you say you found this creature, again?”

“By sheer coincidence! I was gathering some extra supplies from the crates in the back of the medbay, only to push a box aside and find… this.”

You lay flat against your elbows in the palm of a bright red servo, eyes darting frantically between the two titans above you as they conversed in an exchange of vowels and consonants you couldn’t comprehend. The two aliens were similar in color, yet couldn’t look more different— as if they were opposites, yet complemented one another all the same.

The bot that held you was square in his frame, his default expression a discontented scowl. From the platform of his palm, you could see the aged paint of his plating, full of dents and scratches galore. On the hand beneath you, specifically, you could see the chips of paint around each of his joints. Near-imperceptible to a being of his scale, certainly, but you could see the little splotches of blue peeking out from constant use.

The mech beside him was a completely different story, however. Rather than the square, boxy shape of his companion— this one was decorated with sharp angles. His color palette was like the other’s but reversed, more white with accents of bright red. Despite his triangular appearance, he gazed at you in Ratchet’s palm curiously— while Ratchet appeared more skeptical than anything.

“Have you ever seen a being such as this?” Wondered Drift aloud.

“Not in my years, no,” Ratchet replies with a shake of his head.

Wordlessly, Drift offers up both of his hands cupped before you. You pull back, head flicking between Drift’s face and his offered hands, grimacing.

Despite the language barrier, you know the sound of a scoff when you hear it, and as it echoes out from above you you can feel the platform of Ratchet’s palm start to tilt out from beneath you. You can do little to grab on— the ridges of his joints weren’t wide enough for you to cling to, so you succumb to your fate and tumble down into the samurai’s awaiting servos.

“Ratchet!” Drift scolds, “You could’ve handled them a little nicer.”

“C’mon, I wasn’t going to wait all day for it to hop off,” the medic grumbles. “Plus, it’s an organic. The texture was… off-putting.”

As if to prove his hypothesis, Ratchet reaches out a large digit and pokes at your stomach. In your injured state, you let out a wheeze, and Drift is quick to pull his hands closer towards him and away from his conjux.

“Did you hear that?” He asks, not really expecting an answer. “They almost sounded injured, poor thing.”

“Can I take a look?” Ratchet hums, and the white mech stares at him suspiciously for a moment. The older bot lets out another scoff, “I won’t handle them roughly, I promise.”

Satisfied, Drift nods, and slowly lowers his hands from his chassis to present you forwards. You were holding your stomach now, curled inwards in a fetal position, but even so, one could easily tell you were covered in marks and bruises all over your little form.

Again, Ratchet hums. “Let’s take them to the main medbay, see if our scanners can pick up anything.” As the medic concedes, a smile spreads wide across Drift’s faceplate, and Ratchet has to stuff down the urge to grin himself at seeing him so excited. He occupies himself by starting towards the main scanner, activating it and preparing any systems they may have needed. “With any luck, we can figure out just what this creature is.”

Drift starts to make his way over to the scanner as well, cradling you gently between his two hands. He lifts you up to his face, and though you scoot back up away from it, something about his innocent smile seems… endearing, to you.

“Hear that, little one? We’re going to get you all fixed up in no time.”