#Flatline (OC)

[princeskeltondraws]

FlatLine

This is Flatline. Pronouns are They/Them. I originally designed them in my head to belong to the transformers animated. They are a medical office who works with the decepticon. I kind of am obsessed with robots having long skirt kibble. I haven't really thought of their Alt mode. Maybe I'll just leave them as a monoformer.

[dragon-subway]

Valentine’s Day this Valentine’s Day that— Woa!! Clone ocs be upon ye

[bobbinalong]

collecting all my nikas in one place

[bionicboxes]

why is it so hard to make a cool robot design. you're already hard to draw can't you at least be easy to conceptualize

[ckalaveram]

I forgot to post these, but there were some requests from tweet (they are all pretty rushed and most are done fully in pen)

[monzterzack]

volatile and careless

[sgt-tombstone]

Alright the last post was canceled, sorry y’all, here’s round two (if you saw the last one, no you didn’t, just vote in this one again lmao)

Context: His name is Dex Murtagh and he’s an American Air Force Special Warfare Pararescue operator who works closely with the 141 whenever they need a medic team in emergencies. He’s trained in parachuting, helicopter flight, diving, rock climbing, first aid and emergency field medicine, and survival in all climates.

He’s American by birth but Irish by blood and he carries both of those very strongly, so he and Soap often gang up on Ghost, Gaz, and Price (a natural hatred for Englishmen, even if he’s also fiercely protective of them). He was raised in the Appalachian mountains and fully believes in all of the local cryptids. He died and was revived three times in diving training, nearly fell to his death during a static line jump, and he’s a southern boy through and through. He’s fucking crazy (affectionate), will go feral if anyone on his team or any of his patients are threatened, and can’t sit still to save his life (sometimes literally). He’s always the first to volunteer for any op, even those that seem like lost causes, and he’d willingly bleed out to keep one of his teammates alive for just a minute longer.

[raeraq08]

It's been a really long while since I posted here right? But I'm active on Instagram tho if anyone is interested

[astrobbie]

damians giant almost-love crush on nika is so cute… he’s just awkward and cringe like we all once were

[yasashii-leaf]

[dragon-subway]

uuuuuuh fuck it you may gaze upon a thumbnail

what can i say im a sucker for purple plants instead of green

[androgymess]

— maelstrom encounter, they left me to live another day, i'll make sure to thank them next time

[bionicboxes]

i was made for you. is that love? is that love?

More Jamie and Lifeline :) Lifeline doesn't feel emotion exactly, but when you design a machine to care for a living creature, that line can become blurred.

[callaeidae3]

Whumptober2023 Day 16 - Flatline | "Don't go where I can't follow"

[sgt-tombstone]

Imagine…

You’re a soldier in the middle of a battlefield, some foreign country where you’ve been stationed, where mortar and artillery fire are the lullabies that sing you to sleep. You and your team just got ambushed and you’re so close to death that you can practically taste it…

And then you hear it: the helicopter rotors that signal imminent rescue. They’re your guardian angels, your saving grace, the pararescue. You breathe a sigh of relief because you know that they’ll save your life or die trying.

A man appears above you. Your savior. The PJ patch on his vest is like a beacon of hope.

He introduces himself as Flatline. Your confidence in his medical expertise is quickly dwindling.

He talks constantly as he works, a steady stream of consciousness that seems far too casual for the situation at hand, considering his hands are now coated in your blood and he’s actively holding one of your internal organs in place. Your confidence in his medical expertise is well and truly shattered.

You look back at his vest, just to make sure you read the PJ patch correctly (you did), but your eye is drawn to the second patch, just beside it and all hope of survival flies out of the window. At this point, you are tempted to ask for a new medic, because this one is surely going to end your life rather than save it.

You are Dex “Flatline” Murtagh’s patient, and he is about to get court martialed because one of his teammates snuck a patch onto his tac vest without him realizing it… unbeknownst to you, this has been going on for almost two years, and this one patch (and subsequent write up, court martial, and punishment) is the crowning glory of one of the most covert and intense prank battles the Air Force Pararescue has ever seen.

You survive, but you can never look at Casper the Ghost the same way again

[eldritchships]

Early Awakening

Word count: 399

Author's Note: I'll be honest. I wanted something cute. Set between seasons 1 and 2 of Earth.spark

Early morning sunlight crept across the floor of the open room, reaching towards a bed too large for any human. Two metal forms lay entangled together on its surface, content and undisturbed.

CLANG CLANG CLANG.

“Mr Flatline?”

His optics still closed, Flatline’s brow furrowed and he instinctively pressed his faceplate further into the makeshift berth’s cushioning. A static-laced groan stirred from his vocaliser as he was awoken by the muffled voice coming from outside his front door. Lines of diagnostics scrolled past in his still darkened HUD, his systems beginning to come online despite how much he longed to cling to the comfortable fog of recharge.

Flatline felt movement behind him. The purple cannon arm wrapped around his stomach tightened its grip.

“The young ones are here.” Shockwave’s voice rumbled in Flatline’s audio receptor, words similarly wrapped in mechanical fuzz, indicating that he’d also been awoken by the Maltos’ call. His optic bathed Flatline’s cheek in a soft yellow glow as he nudged his helm against Flatline’s neck cabling. “...Should I dispose of them?”

“No, it’s alright…” Flatline reluctantly opened his optics. Blue light mingled with the yellow as their centres whirred and adjusted to their familiar surroundings. There was a complaint message from his elbow joint that he ignored, the limb having been pinned underneath his helm all night. Flatline shuffled back against Shockwave’s chestplate, a smile curving the edges of his lips when he felt Shockwave’s other arm join the one already around him.

CLANG CLANG CLANG.

“Mr Flatline?”

Flatline’s smile dropped and he groaned again. He silently debated continuing to wait, to pretend as if he weren’t home, but he knew he couldn’t stall any longer. Mourning how wonderful it would’ve been to sleep in, he clumsily composed a message and sent it to the nearest mechanical frequency he could detect outside his home; Hold on. I’ll be right there.

About a second passed before he received a reply. It was pure gibberish, communicating an emotion more-so than words. Surprise. Whichever Terran was outside must not have had experience being directly messaged before. While he fought to untangle himself from Shockwave’s grasp, Flatline helpfully re-composed the same message and this time sent it to Mo Malto’s phone. He was sure it was her voice calling his name, and she could relay to her sibling - or siblings - that he had heard them and would be out shortly.