#nessoraau2

[ness-ora]

Wheelratch AU 2 Update #6

After around 2 months of writers block, i think I finally pulled through! There were too many things to keep track of that I started loosing my mind, and so I decided to forget it all for once and write what my heart desires (while piggy backing off of what I remember 2 months ago). This is what I spat out! Not final ⚠️

Ratchet put a servo on the least damaged surface of Wheeljack's chassis. "Holy Primus, how are you still functioning?"

A horrible noise came from his pipelines as Wheeljack gasped for air, then, an electric spark ignited the power in Wheeljack's optics. They wavered before settling into a dim gaze, flicking around to take in his surroundings. He spotted Ratchet.

"R—" Wheeljack started speaking with a corrupted synthesizer.

"Yeah…" Ratchet's servo rubbed Wheeljack's chest for support, less than ready to admit these could be his final moments. "It's me, Ratchet."

Wheeljack hacked out a cough. Pain receptors kicked in, slowly bringing a searing ache throughout his frame. He shuttered, enduring it with gritted denta until he released a guttural cry. Ratchet retracted with alarm. Warnings blazed through Wheeljack's frame, overwhelming his HUD until all he saw was red. Panic enveloped him, somehow managing to back himself closer to the wall. Confusion turned to desperation; his system couldn't comprehend what was happening to it.

"You're going to extinguish your spark if you keep doing that!" Ratchet blared.

More uncanny noises came from Wheeljack, staring at Ratchet as if he had just remembered he was there. He sneered, a flash of hatred buckling under the weight of his situation. There was nothing he could do except continue to wail in pain. How stupid he must look—broken and defenseless; even in his delirium, as the world started to cut out once more through his flickering optics, all he wanted to do was hide. Yet, he was sane enough to realize death was in his passenger seat, and if he wasn't able to drop his act, it would soon be taking the wheel. The cascade of his conflicting thoughts and the waves of blue agony dripping from his chassis, he began to cry. Oil fell from Wheeljack's optics, leaking out of the ghastly face wound, tapping the gravel below.

"I don't want to die," Wheeljack whimpered.

Ratchet shook his helm as his servo held to the back of Wheeljack's neck. "I'm not going to let you do that."

Oil continued to pour down half his face plate as Wheeljack locked optics with Ratchet. Through his blurry vision, he saw a bot he didn't recognize. The Ratchet he knew would have considered him totaled and left him for scrap. Now, there was a strange feeling of security by his side. Succumbed to his powerlessness, he grabbed the arm that held him, comforting himself with it.

[ness-ora]

Wheelratch AU 2 Update #5

Part 1 is out and beta read! Hurray :D! Now, enough of all this enemies stuff. Part 2 will be the lovers side! Here is a sneak peak of the first chapter of part 2, (chapter 8), which features... ANGST!? I thought we were done with the angst! Well, some things need to be addressed between Ratchet and Optimus first, and the thought of it gives Ratchet an anxiety attack.

Not final ⚠️ "Ratchet," Optimus kept the garage door from dropping closed.

Ratchet's vents shivered as he touched his metal berth with the tip of his digits. "Leave me, Prime."

Optimus jolted, his vents freezing in shock. He hadn't heard Ratchet utter the name 'Prime' in eons. The garage door crept downward, meeting the floor in a soft thud.

Pitch darkness surrounded Ratchet. He lowered his back on the berth, wiping down his wet face plate. He waited for his systems to relax, to let go whatever needed to be let go, but as the silence surrounded him, something else grew; dread balanced itself at a terrifying height for far too long. A ring had entered his audials, his venting quickened, and his sensors grew fuzzy. Out there was his team, waiting for him, hurting—mentally and physically. The faster he repairs them, the faster they could find out if Wheeljack was alive. If he was, he couldn't image what his frame must look like—how much pain he was in.

He wrenched upward with a pounding spark, dragging himself backwards against the wall. His frame trembled; servos gripped his helm, curling up, holding back an urge to scream. Quiet profanities left his intake, but nothing could override this feeling.

It felt like forever until the moment passed, leaving a bitter taste in his core. Smoke had filled Ratchet's berthroom from the ordeal. He had to do something—he can't sit here like this—but the thought of showing himself brought more oil to his optics. So, he continued sitting, focusing on his slowing vents. He wouldn't be of much use in this state anyways.

[ness-ora]

Wheelratch Fanfic #2 AU Character Profiles

I gyat some brainrot to share, stuff I wrote before the outline. Chapter 1 is underway btw, but as usual, I'll post the fic in acts on AO3. You might recognize that there are elements I took from my previous fanfic as I still wanted to keep the "enemies to lovers" trope I built.

Ratchet

Emerged from the allspark as a scientist

The war forced him to be a medic because there weren’t enough. -> Medics were hunted on Cybertron, Ratchet was able to hide.

Very smart, but after he became a medic, he started to become gruff, burnt out, and resents being boxed into this role. Imposter syndrome, perfectionism, overworking, identity crisis.

He has field trauma. He learned surgery by repairing bots mid-battle with the knives he gave himself. Every failure haunts him: “I wasn’t born for this.”

Protocol made him feel more in control of his situation. It's stressful during war, he doesn't have to second guess himself more than he already is.

Wheeljack

Emerged from the allspark as an engineer/weapons engineer

He joined the wreckers during the war because he didn’t want to be kept on the sidelines. He wanted to see his weapons in action.

He began to despise the higher ups because they rarely stepped foot onto the battlefield, and when things went bad, they never went in with them, and he had to pay the price of grievance. Leaders took credit for the succes. This made him have a distrust toward authority.

Rather smart, uses unorthodox methods of fighting, and kills without hesitation. Targeted ruthlessness. Dark, but NOT a spree killer. He’s violent, but he’s not cruel to the innocent. He is self-aware of what he has become.

So yeah, that's it. Idk how to blog, but I think im going to dip my toes into the fanfic culture on tumblr more than the art. Tiktok = art, Tumblr = fanfic. So if you want to follow my process, I will be posting here!

[ness-ora]

Wheelratch AU 2 Update #2

I decided to be more technical with Ratchet's medic skills this time around. This chapter is going to be a turning point in Ratchet and Wheeljack's rivalry :) Context: Ratchet is repairing a gash on Wheeljack's side. ⚠️NOT FINAL

The numbing spray was shot into the wound, laying down a layer that blocked raw pain receptors. The immediate feel caused Wheeljack to flinch before a cooling sensation spread through the area. He settled down as the pain lessened, exhaustion keeping him still. He then picked up a tube of energon coagulant, applying a bead to large artery. The energon hissed as it met the compound, turning into a hardened crystalline crust. After a few more smaller lines, the leakage was fully stopped. Wheeljack's face plate loosened the longer he stared at Ratchet working, becoming bored and setting his helm black to get comfortable. Maybe he was being a bit dramatic back there… this wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him. He turned his helm away in hopes of avoiding any chance Ratchet could see through his bravado. Next, Ratchet pulled out a laser scalpel. Light flickered at the jagged edges of Wheeljack's metal as they were trimmed. The procedure continued at a sluggish pace, numbing Ratchet's mind to the point leisurely thoughts came to entertain his processor. It was quite impressive how far Wheeljack was able to push himself; no doubt the Wreckers made him this way. I suppose he became rather needed, as Bulkhead would put it. Ratchet squinted, lasering within the layers of Wheeljack's midsection. He's still a walking disaster fighting so carelessly. Ratchet glanced toward Wheeljack's helm, searching for any signs of pain. He didn't expect him to be so calm after fighting to avoid this. How strange this was… He placed his scalpel down, taking a modified clamp. He tugged at an exposed energon line, then the other matching side, clamping down onto both sides and applying counter-pull force until the lines touched. He transformed his servo into his welder, connecting the lines back together—the crystallization should break down eventually, blending harmlessly with the rest of Wheeljack's energon. He began doing this for the rest of the exposed tubes, his gaze drifting around Wheeljack's midsection. This close, Ratchet could see how many poorly healed scars there were on his metal. I can grind those out quite easily with a sander if I had one at the moment… they're ruining his frame. With everything cleaned and connected, Ratchet gathered steel mesh from a pocket in his med-kit to stuff the empty space in Wheeljack's side.

[ness-ora]

Wheeljack getting his face plate blown up is officially in wheelratch fanfic #2's outline! Bro im SO EXCITED to write another au

[ness-ora]

Wheelratch AU 2 Update #1

I'm adding more into Ratchet's inner identity crisis before it all becomes too much for him~heres a little sneaky peaky. ⚠️NOT FINAL

~~prose 1~~

Optimus peered toward Ratchet, a tense look of disappointment on his faceplate. "He is still an Autobot."

Ratchet's spark sunk right to its chamber floor. "Of course." He said quickly, lowering his helm immediately and following his teams demands.

His steps felt overly loud to him, but he wouldn't dare to stop. He continued because the alternative was failure, and failure was defiance against everything expected of him. He's the medic. That's what his team needed him to be.

~~prose 2~~

Ratchet's optics followed the blue jet upward, his vision darkening around the edges. The weight of his medical kit suddenly felt too heavy for his servo.

This is what he’d become.

He was no longer a scientist jubilantly experimenting in his lab—that blew up years ago. He was the best weapon a Decepticon could hope for. His duty was to keep the war breathing.

[ness-ora]

Wheelratch AU 2 Update #7

HE SAID IT! HE SAID THE THING! FAUQQQ IM SO EXCITED!!! By the way. What I have of part 2 is posted! This chapter is going up soon! Not Final ⚠️

A blow to his willpower had to acknowledge his current position, making his spark rate increase. He went to the other thigh, holding in his venting, massaging the lather through. A stinging heat formed in his face plate, making him narrow his optics in defeat. He abandoned the sponge.

With all the proximity, Ratchet had not only gotten used to Wheeljack's frame… he actually started to like it.

He clenched his denta, slamming his foamy servos into his forehead in distress. This was his patient for crying out loud! How could he work like this? Involuntary steam lifted from his intake in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Deny, deny, deny.

[ness-ora]

Wheelratch AU 2 Update 4

I found this concept called "role captivity" which, in my research, perfectly explains Ratchet~ He was placed into a medic roll by moral necessity, and not by choice, which is a big part of his personality and cause for his identity crisis. I remember this post I saw on TikTok saying something around the lines of... "A fanfic writer will always have a few typos, but you will never catch them spreading misinformation." I plan on following that rule!! Excerpt from Chapter 6, not final⚠️

"You're not a Wrecker anymore." Ratchet snarled. "Wreckers aren't validation hungry scrapheaps!" The fuse reached Wheeljack's spark, exploding out his intake. "You're going to go there, huh!?" Smoke flew out his pipelines. "I AM! I'm sick and tired of you! If you don't get your helm on straight, one day you will look back and think to yourself 'I should have listened'!" Wheeljack's smoke thickened, closing his optics tightly. He was already rusting in his own decisions, past and present, but Primus forbid him from ever expressing that. So, as a last ditch effort, he plastered on a prideful facade and snapped back as coldly as he could. "Primus be damned—the bot who lives to take orders is telling me to get my helm on straight!? Maybe's that's why you're so miserable all the time!" Ratchet's dermas opened slowly as his vents clicked on. This argument had taken up so much of his attention that he'd forgotten that they both had the same goal. He stared at Bumblebee's joint, his processor going blank. No, focus! He frantically looked around his med-kit, but now he saw nothing he recognized. Why? What's happening? He's done this before! Work! WORK! Ratchet mumbled to himself, only now realizing he was gripping Bumblebee's arm. He immediately detached himself, something he couldn't even think of doing with his team. He then shakily stared at Wheeljack, who he'd criticized since the start. It was his violence. He told himself, but maybe it was something more. It was the fact that he was free to be violent, free to choose for himself. Why in Primus' name would he ever listen if he's free? Jealousy struck Ratchet with a force so powerful, he sprouted oil from his optics. His audials began to ring, the world shrinking around him. He gazed down Bumblebee's blurry frame and his missing leg. Why did he ever think he could attach that? This requires a real medic, but he was born a scientist. Any scientist can form a hypothesis; if he stops listening, then bots die—Bumblebee dies, and he can't fail him again.