Russian terms
Mamulya – Mother
Otets – Father (pronounced uh-TYETS)
Da – Yes
Net – No
Universe: TF:Animated
Characters: Sentinel Prime, Optimus Prime, Jetstorm, Jetfire, Ratchet, Jazz
Rating: M
Warnings: AU. This is set after they return to Cybertron. WILL HAVE: Dub con, sticky sex, spark sex, tactile, bots turned sparklings, adult language and situations. More as story progresses.
Disclaimer: Owned by Hasbrotekatron or whoever…
Sentinel was on his couch, currently in shock, with two sparklings playing on the floor in front of him.
They'd been dropped off with apologies and quickly made instructions by a very flustered Wheeljack, who had upended a bag of supplies on his couch and quickly backed out the door, with him shouting that a medic would be there shortly.
So here he sat, jaw still hanging open, with his two former soldiers who were currently fighting over a colored stacking cube.
Slag.
.
Rachet was professional, mostly. He'd still been laughing from Wheeljack's call when he pulled up to Sentinel's flat and just looking at the stopshocked Prime had only increased his mirth.
Sentinel was quite sure he was on the verge of crashing. Ratchet had opened him up and flicked… SOMETHING that led him feeling quite uncomfortable and violated before slamming the panel shut and handing him an almost-but -not-quite-fussy Jetfire and moving to place his last digit in the sparkling's mouth.
Which led to an almost tossed Jetfire, a decidedly unamused Ratchet, and a hysteric bout of hand flapping from Sentinel.
"Confound it you blasted idiot! Don't DO that! What in the name of Cybertron is wrong with you!"
The twins were now in very-upset mode, and their wails only seemed to drive Sentinel into more of a panic.
"This is absolutely ridiculous! I'm not sure what you're trying to pull, but I am sure that there are many
OTHER Cybertronians who can take care of these…"
He paused to look at the wailing twins.
"My former soldiers. I don't have time for this!"
Ratchet scooped the sparkling's up and held them to his chassis, swaying and bouncing in what Sentinel found to be a highly unappealing way.
"They're here partially because Wheeljack is an idiot and partially because he felt that they would be better in the company of someone they knew decently well!"
Jetfire turned coolant filled optics toward his brother, then Ratchet, before lighting on Sentinel.
"Otets!"
The wail started up again, this time from both.
"Otets! Otets!" "Otets…"
Sentinel stared.
"What in the world are they saying?"
Ratchet sighed, looking very much like he'd like to rub his chevron to stave off the incoming processor ache.
"They're calling you 'Dad' you idiot. You worked with them for how long again?"
He gaped at the twins, who were now watching him through their occasional hiccups.
"No. NO NO NO NO NO! There is NO WAY I'm playing 'dad' to a pair of useless sparklings! Absolutely NOT going to happen old bot! Why don't you just take them down to Jazz, or Magnus, slag! Take them to Optimus and his green blob! I am NOT keeping them here!"
A hard look crossed Ratchet's face.
"Now you listen here and you listen good you no good waste of space! Magnus TOLD Wheeljack that you would take them in. Wheeljack did something, we don't know yet, and called Ultra Magnus who told him to send them to you and call me. Regardless of your feelings here Prime, these sparklings are now your orders."
Sentinel sagged and dropped back down to the couch, only vaguely aware he'd gotten up in the first place, and just stared.
The twins were reaching out for him, their vocalizers hitching with sobs, and calling him that infernal name.
"Otets."
He stiffly held his arms out and Ratchet carefully placed them both in his grasp.
"I don't suppose Ultra Magnus saw fit to volunteer anyone else for this, seeing as how I haven't ever taken care of sparklings before?"
"What, admitting you actually can't do something? Careful there Sentinel, I might get the idea you aren't perfect."
Sentinel bristled.
"Think what you like, you rusty scrap heap!"
Ratchet held up a somewhat placating gesture, marred by the smirk on his face.
"Well, as it so happens Sentinel, Ultra Magnus did indeed assign you a helper. Picked by the twins themselves even."
Sentinel's arms tightened slightly around the sparklings. There was really only one way this could get any worse.
"Don't say it. Don't even think about saying it!"
Ratchet's smile was creepy and smirky and much to evil for his liking.
"I won't say anything about it. Not a name, certainly not an image."
Ratchet turned and walked to the door.
"Except that he'll be here soon. Good luck Prime."
Sentinel's bellows were heard throughout the neighborhood.
