#haha im ok. im not.

[blabberoo]

"Are you..drunk..?"

He couldn't even talk right, his hands forming in half phrases to half words (is he even talking?), then finally resolving to a 'no'.

Drifter sighed, pinching his nose bridge between his fingers. "Goddamn it. How is that even possible."

He grabbed the corpse by the arm and dragging it over his shoulder, supporting the rest of him by the waist. The beheaded was thrashing at first, attempting to get off of Drifter's grip, yet was quick to give up when sudden motions was too much for his... flame? Letting most of his weight fall over the smaller person, to which he couldn't do anything but to grumble under his breath.

Thankfully, the base wasn't too far. It took a few walks to the door and onto the bed where Drifter plopped Bobby like a carcass (well he is.)

As he stood up and was about to walk away, the beheaded grabbed him by the cloak in a state of panic. This, of course, caught Drifter's attention, simply at stasis and looking at him as if to wait for a reason. Why did he stopped him? Why did it hurt to see him go? Why the hell does his head hurt..

His eye blinked weakly, tried to muster up the energy to speak.

"Vomit." he signed.

"Oh, shit. Wait! Hold on—" It took three second for Drifter to find a basin a bring it to Bobby, just in time for him to let it all out. Seriously, how is this possible?

Though he was able to have a slight sigh of relief he wasnt able to get the mess on the bed, that's one less thing to worry about.

"Sit up. I'm gonna have clean you."

It took him a bit slow but he followed without retaliation, possibly too sick to do so. Drifter walked away to the bathroom and returned with a new basin and towel. He begin cleaning whereever the mess got him, along his hands and to his arms. Although there's not much he could do with his clothes but to wipe off what he could, it's not like he'd be comfortable enough to change his clothes. He'll have to take care of thet himself when he's more sober.

"Lord Jackal, why do I put up with you." He muttered under his breath, moreso to himself.

However, that might have caught up Bobby's attention,as he raised his hands to sign.

"Why do you?"

Drifter's gaze caught his at the sudden movement, although his eye were still unfocused, perhaps by the lingering influence of alcohol.

"People— They always look out for me because I could somehow save them from their problems. No matter how many times I've shown them I couldn't— Don't want to! Because even if I did, I will still screw it up— time and time again— ALWAYS! But everything ends the same. Everything ends. And I'm still—"

He pauses, and his hands flopped over his lap. His head lowers and shoulder slacked. He had never been like this before. Quiet. Tired.

Of course, Drifter was the same. He approached him for the same reason, and yet it hasn't crossed his mind the fact that he had gone through this a lot. And he was adding up to that.

"Do you want to cut the deal?" He intended to make it sound neutral, though his remourse came out of his soft tone.

Bobby took a moment to register it, flame still swaying through the influence.

"I don't know. I just—"

God. It hurts to think. He felt like everything around him is swallowing him whole.

"I'm tired of people leaving. I just don't want—"

He hasn't blurted out like this in a long while, maybe never. And the guts of this dead body seemed to sprung alive only to churn in pain. Its all too much. He closed his eye and let his heavy toll rest upon Drifter's shoulder. Soft flames prickling the crook of his neck.

I don't want to be alone.

He felt arms wrap around him, a palm brushing along his back in a comforting rhythm. His mind focused on these sensation, and for a moment he could feel himself grounded under Drifter's touch. It felt like he could breath again, and for the first time, felt like he mattered to someone.

This simple moment alone could stay with him for eternity. And if that were the case, perhaps he can indulge himself in it.

Tomorrow— he can pretend to forget.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[legolambi]

say it with me melvik pre series toxic situationship

[turtletoria]

the krampus incident from the book of bill if it was out of character and stupid

[cosmique-oddity]

Phew, my last weeks of work are now complete >:)

I loved Dratchet and Ratchlock since the very beginning of my attachment towards Transformers, first TFP Ratchet…..but yeah….two of my favorites character….plus Keferon’s Mech AU…..I had to make my own thing about it.

A story….no…an illustration ! I couldn’t choose. So I did both :}

—————————————————

That was not the first time Ratchet came back to his private lab angry, but this time, yelling at his superiors, and at the system, and basically at evverything that could be yelled at except the pilotd while leaving the manufacture, was certainly the last. He quit. That was enough,

you don’t win a war with feelings they said

well yes,

exactly,

but you win a war with soldier, and frying their mind before they have their first fight because you want them to be more perfectionned ? That was a little counter productive.

So he gave up. They are on their own now.

The lightly humming of his car was barely enough to keep him awake, it have been a long time since he last returned home, usually, he stayed at his work place, to have more time to sleep, but then, he was sleeping even less. An endless vicious circle, things were often like that.

But all of that was over for him.

He granted these young greenhorn with his experience, and what did they do ? Ignored his advices. Sending pilots to death. So now, he had himself out of the infernal machinery. This mindless waste of human life, even where this is what they tried to save was absurd.

In the middle of his quiet and late ride, he heard a noise. Rumbling, was it the engine ? As he stopped the car backroad to check, the noise wasnt stopping. Came from the sky, military patrol ? He raised his two tired eyes on the sky and saw a shining rail approaching his forest, falling fast. Not quintesson shaped, and with the gaze of an experimented biomechanist, Ratchet identified a mech.

At this moment, its violently crashed on the ground, behind the trees at maybe three or four miles away. No matter how hard he argued with the scientist sooner this day or how bad he wanted to say fuck to all of this death industry who killed young soldiers, he could do something for the one trapped inside the mech....maybe.... the man regained his car as fast as possible and urgently headed for the crash area.

Deafened sound of tires on the damaged road. Ratchet was already projecting, mentally stocktaking the tools he took with him, and lucky enough for the poor pilot, he quit with almost all of his material, and even if it was mainly mechs repairing material, he also bought some instruments which were used for the subtle neuromedicine between human and mech. Could adapt some of it and stabilize the pilot....then he may have the time to go home and grab proper materials. If there was life there was hope.

" bold of him to crash himself just the day i insulted all of his hierachy".

He frowned. Almost there.

The trees nearby were crushed and uprooted. A flickering pink light catched his gaze.

Almost immediately, the Ratchet analyzed the mech. It was different. He didnt know in wich country it was made but that almost looks alien. The curves and shapes, busted and burned on several places were demonstrating an incredible display of genius ingeniery he could just admiring. But time was not for being amazed on plating.

Someone was trapped there.

He stopped and parked his car in front of a fallen tree, rushing to the car's trunk, taking few indispensable objets, including some of them to help a safe disconnection between pilot/mech. In case he wasnt out already. And a crowbar, the cockpit might be stuck, seeing all the damages the mech has taken...

The sound of slightly wet grass under his feet was covered by a frenetic noise of aeration. Ratchet listened to it, while cautiously approaching the unknown mech. It almost sounded like a breath, but was certainly a depressurisation issue. The mech had fallen from so high on the sky....

The damaged plating were hot, probably from atmosphere friction. He raised his crowbar and his eyes followed the curves of the chestplates, searching for a familiar shape, that could lead him to the injured pilot inside. His gaze stopped on a deep wound, that might have cut through the cockpit.

The engineer stepped on the hot metal, his thick boots preventing him from feeling the heat, and he started searching for a hint....anything that could be a mechanism, anything that could open this damn mech !

Ratchet considered the damaged chest plate he noticed earlier. The surroundings of the wound were leaking bright pink, a very unusual color for fuel. Another of these definitively strange things about the mech. Again....not the time for that. Maybe if he could widen the gap, then he would be able to have an idea of what was going on under this armor.

He tapped the plate, -it was starting to cool down- with one of his finger. It was a very little tap, but the whole mech startled. A hiss of pain, recognisible easily by an emerite engineer-but-i-fix-people-too, it had come from the head of the mecha. Was this modele controlled from the head, like Vortex ? But Vortex was insanely huge for a mech, way taller than this one. He moved careful, noticing the shaking of his support.

"You hear me, kid ? Its going to be ok. You crashed in a safe area.".

He spoke in his medic tone, wich mean, of course brusque, serious, but also reassuring and calm.

He mumbled about the mech's features and tiny words of comfort while reaching for the head.

A red light, not regular and rather epileptic was coming from the head, and while he was almost there, on all four of his limb to keep balance, Ratchet saw it.

A spectacularly humanoid face, with sculpted nose and lips was tensed in a painful expression, frowning, but the thing who trapped his gaze was the two optics....

....staring back at him.

Mechs dont stare. Their eyes are glowing, oftenly to mimick human face, after all, human are pretty prideful creature, no point in piloting big ass metal titan if no one could tell these where their creation.

What human couldnt mimick with technologie, on the other hand, was the subtle expression between trying to evualuate a threat, his own injuries, and looking rather on the verge of death but also ready to tear any enemy's limb appart with its teeth.

With just one....very long....look at the other's eye, Ratchet was suddenly understanding what was going on.

Well....probably not but he knew what he had to save.

The pilot, the pilot he had to save.

The mech was the pilot.

He was the one he had to save.

He stopped trying to -certainly- open his chest. If it wasnt good for human it probably wasnt for living technology.

The giant technological humanoid seemed in a high distress, exhaling a lot of air from his vents, his eye still intensely staring at him and the engineer doubted his usual technique -including trying to make himself as small as possible- would work.

"Its going to be okay Kid. I can help you. There is nothing here that want to harm you".

He did his best to convey all of these emotions with his facial expression and gaze, still firmly watching back at him.

"the world better wait till im home and officially retired before killing me".

The mech's gaze -damn it was so more living than ANY human made machinery- seemed to soften a bit but still radiated with suspicion.

Deadlock had been in several bad situations. It happened quite a lot when a specie of giant aliens with tendrils tried to invade your homeland, and he was ready to it.

Trained to kill, and to do it efficiently.

And he was *good* at it.

This time was just another of these ‘i went too far in my excitation’ moments, and he has crashed on a random planet he hoped was not inhabited. He landed hard, and pieces of his ship must’ve been thrown near his location.

And now, now there was an organic like no one he ever saw, and the organic was on his *lap* and he had the kindest warmest eyes he ever saw.

And these eyes were directly looking at his own eyes, and the well named ‘Deadlock’ was starting to wonder if he finally had reunited with the Allspark. His pained and tenseful grin faded a little and he tried to move his head forward, searching a better point of view to watch the singularity in front of him.

Ow.

Moving hurt.

Some sound came out of the organic’s mouth, probably a language. He didn’t had the proper tools to decode it but the tone of the language was extremely….comforting ? Soft ?

This was scary.

He wasn’t used to be welcomed like that after a fight.

Usually it was either another fight, either the yelling of a superior, either nothing at all. But this actual living being was carefully examinating his chestplates, and he recognized the gestual of someone who was used to heal. A medic perhaps ?

He tried to move something, maybe a hand, to reach for the pale organic, to be sure he was real, but his body was rather uncooperative, from what he could say, one of his legs was missing, and a lot of wound were releasing energon on the ground he couldn’t saw.

The high probabilities of bleeding out and crash was an issue.

He let his head hang, too tired to watch for every moves of the organic, and barely aware of his environment.

There must be a big problem somewhere….

He confusely thought, while watching the stars.

Must be a bigger injury I haven’t saw……..

Ratchet saw the bright light coming from the alien’s eyes slowly fading, and cold swear ran through his back. Yet, he could still say the soldier was alive, the lights of his body were shining, not a lot, but it was enough. He looked at his first aid kit with disappointment. That wouldn’t be very efficient since the form of life he was trying to preserve wasn’t a tiny human. The nearest thing he could compare the Mech to was….well their own mechs, or eventually….Quintesson. An horrible mess of organic and technology. It was partially thanks to their weird constitution that Ratchet had been able to make sense with the ‘he is alive’ thought.

At this moment and with this material, he couldn’t help the kid, and didn’t possess enough knowledge to tell if he was even dying or not.

He had already an idea of what to do….to fix him, at least trying to, but it involved several objects he hadn’t right now. Leaving to search for these so called objects was risking to let an injured alone, he couldn’t take that risk. He was trapped with the mech, and had to hurry and find something. He stood and reached for more adapted material in his car, trying to find something…. Anything.

Surprisingly, the most useful artifact he came across was his electric screwdriver and a bunch of screw along with a long metallic cabke. A parallel between human stitch, with sewing threads and the material he had with him right now. He could manage something between human fixing and mech repairing, that was what the ‘bio’ in bioengineer stood for.

The kid would be ok. He would live and tell Ratchet why he fell from the sky, and maybe if he saw his friend Jazz….out there…….

.

.

—————————————————

:)) @keferon

(I swear I’m not insane, your AU is just kinda giving me infinite drawing stamina lmao)

[newttxt]

apartment shenanigans

from utilities included, ch. 9 (mind the tags and rating!)

masterpost

[dapper-lil-arts]

uh oh!!!!

[sexymoonmansslut]

r.a.b

the black brothers pt. 1

[razzafrazzle]

I was put on this earth to draw bill cipher in minxy little outfits

[image description: a page of drawings of a human design for bill cipher from gravity falls, done to look like a magazine cover. here, bill is depicted as a thin, pale-skinned androgynous person with an uncomfortably-wide smile. on the left is a large full-body drawing of him with short yellow and red triangular pigtails, and he is wearing a yellow bikini top, long flaired pants, and chunky platform sandals, all with eye imagery present. on the right is a a smaller image of him with a longer yellow ponytail, where he is wearing a yellow sleeveless crop top and miniskirt, and is carrying shopping bags. below that is the text "billy" repeated down the page in a sleek font. the background is a soft, muted rainbow. end id]

[miyabau]

opla doodles!!

[turtleplushi]

I haven't seen anybody post the full Riddle Chain yet (including Silas Birchtree) so here you go :)

I didn't find any of these codes myself by the way! I'm not sure who to credit for the rest of them, but I did get the Silas Birchtree code from @dismissivedestroyer (sorry for tagging you ^_^" if you don't want to be tagged let me know and i can edit the post). You can also get the answer using the code "STOD EHT TCENNOC"

(SPOILERS BELOW)

RIDDLE (would you like to play a game) > YES (what's Mcgucket's favorite soda?) > MOUNTAIN DONT (what's a medieval homonym?) > LYRE LIAR (the 20th ingredient of Anti-Cipherzing Tonic?) > HAROLDS RAMBLINGS (how is clown repellant made?) > UNION MADE (Bill's govt file number?) > 29121239168518 (who comes from Zimtrez 5?) > GREBLEY HEMBERDRECK (what's on Bill's flag?) > 3466554 (what leaves a thin line in the snow?) > TINSEL SNAKE (the 6th option on Bill's editing software?) > TORTURE MENTALLY (name an unpronouncable wizard) > XGQRTHX (where do Tri Angels come from?) > 333SUNDAPPLELANECOZYCREEKIL6071494611 (Bill Cipher's Lawyer?) > CAESARATBASHVIGNERE [or] MULTI LEVEL MARK (who defeated Silas Birchtree--?) > EMMALINE BUTTERNUBBINS (you've earned a treat! enter 'DISPENSE MY TREAT' to download) > DISPENSE MY TREAT

The 'treat' you get is under the cut

"BILL FILES DO NOT OPEN"

babydonthurtme.png

billcithescienceguy.png

chernobogwithablog.png

cheshire.png

epacsdnim.png

hiya.png

irrational treasure 2 - the trembley supremacy.png

octobillfest.jpg

remember the bermuda triangle.png

scrapdoodle.png

seeyouinmydreams.png

seeyounextsummer.png

snakeyes.png

trustme.png

xwhyz.png

[soupysundae]

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

[puppyeared]

(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time

[kitamars]

oh no! more ginhiji

[temeyes]

took the three of them to our outing today! the Bois had fun!

[joenhead]

Posting my favorite frog freak so I don’t completely disappear like a plastic bag floating through the wind

I miss my frog,,,boy,,why u so cutesy