#no named characters

[starscreamisreginageorge]

Facing the Past

Ratchet and Wheeljack go down to the sublevels to see what can be salvaged. Whilst down there the reality of Wheeljack's past hits them both.

For the first time in 50 cycles the mines were devoid of life, with energon now freely flowing again it was hardly worth the risk of gathering their sole resource. The equipment used to mine the materials however, that they could find use for. Which partially explained how Ratchet and Wheeljack had found themselves making their way down into the abandoned sublevels. At first the idea had been for a group half made up of ex-miners and  to go down and collect as much equipment as they could carry. That was until it had been pointed out that sending a group of people, of whom half of which would not know what the equipment was for, and the other half would not know whether it could be repurposed at all, might not be the most efficient method. So in the end Optimus had asked Wheeljack, arguably the only person on cybertron who fit into both groups, to head down and catalog everything. He wasn’t entirely sure why Ratchet had volunteered to help him but he wasn’t going to complain. The older mech was fast becoming a good friend to him, and he was keen to see his reaction to his old home. Though home was not really the right word for it. Sure he’d recharged down here, spent time with his friends, ate, all the things you did in your home. But could you ever call a place like that a home?  ‘Well here we are.’ he said as they stepped into a room full of recharge pods. At first Ratchet said nothing as he stood in the doorway. Trying to not let it bother him, Wheeljack made his way over to one of the pods. In the past he could have stepped inside it no problem. But now, well even if he somehow managed to squeeze his body inside he’d probably have to keep his head bent.

‘Wow I’d forgotten how small I used to be.’ he laughed as he glanced back at Ratchet.

‘These are sparkling pods.�� Ratchet’s words at a surface level sounded like a simple statement. But Wheeljack could tell there was more underneath them. You were smaller then, small as a sparkling. He didn’t want to think about it.

‘Come on the equipment lockers are down this way. That’ll be a good place to start.’ 

***

‘Oh and that’s where the mine shaft Jazz nearly died in was, you can tell because of the scorch marks.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure but it seemed like Wheeljack was talking more down here than he’d ever known him to before. Granted they hadn’t known each other that long. Still it wasn’t a comfortable chatter, more the kind you make when you’re trying to distract yourself. His servo’s were also moving seemingly non stop. Not the flapping motion he did when he was talking about his latest project, but a clenching, unclenching motion that seemed to indicate to Ratchet that he wasn’t happy to be back down here. Not that he could blame him. Still as much as he was eager to get out of there himself, seriously Ratchet was no believer in the supernatural but there was something haunted about this place, they should probably take a break.

‘I don’t know about you but I really could do with something to eat right about now.’

‘What? Oh yeah sure, go ahead.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure if he was imagining things, but he could have sworn Wheeljack had grown even more uncomfortable.

‘You should eat something too.’

‘Yeah alright. In a bit.’

‘Did you not bring your own supply? If you didn’t I can share mine but you really should…’

‘I’ve got my own supply.’ Wheeljack cut in. Ratchet blinked in surprise. He’d never heard Wheeljack snap at someone like that before. He’d been snarky at times, and he’d heard him grumble a little. But he’d never known him to snap like that.

‘Sorry.’ Wheeljack sighed. ‘It’s just. I don’t really like eating in front of others.’ Now Ratchet was curious.

‘How come?’ No response. ‘Has it got anything to do with your mask?’

‘It’s not a mask. I mean it is a mask, but it’s also my face… I’m not really sure how I can explain it.’

‘Well why don’t you show me.’ When Wheeljack didn’t move or speak, Ratchet added. ‘I’m a medic Wheeljack, whatever it is. I've probably already seen it, or I’ve seen worse.’ That seemed to convince the younger mech who reached up and grabbed the mask. This surprised Ratchet, he’d expected it to retract into his head like any other mask. Instead Wheeljack pulled it off along with what looked like most of his mandible. In fact, seeing him without it, Ratchet realised that the mask was the entire lower half of his face.

‘So doc, seen anything like this before?’ It was odd hearing him talk when he  had no mouth, his face ended part way down his nose ridge. Ratchet wasn’t even sure how it was possible. Whatever had done this to him must have hit him at a very specific angle so as to spare his vocalizer.

‘I can’t say I have. But how exactly does something like this happen?’

‘I was one of the first miners.’ Wheeljack began. ‘Back then no one really knew how the mines worked, so there were a lot of casualties. Not many of us survived, so I guess I’m lucky in a way.’

‘What happened?’

‘A drill exploded in my face. It wasn’t a big explosion. But the top half hit me with enough force that it tore my face off.’

‘And you never got it fixed.’

‘Couldn’t afford it. Since I could still work and there was no “further risk to life” any attempts to repair the damage would be considered cosmetic.’ For a moment Ratchet said nothing. He was angry, not at the younger mech, but at… Well at Sentinel mostly. How many miners had died under his care from mining injuries, when they should never have been down here in the first place. He still remembered that one femme that had been brought in, her spark by some twisted miracle had still been going. But her helm had been so badly crushed there was no way her processor could have survived. He had sat with her until she died, though he doubted she was able to think or feel anything the whole time. She should never have been down here, she never should have died. Not like that. What had been her name? J something. She hadn’t even had a real name.

‘Well we’d better eat something. Sooner we do that the sooner we can leave.’ he said breaking the silence. For a moment he thought Wheeljack would argue. But instead he simply nodded and took a seat on an upturned mine cart. Ratchet sat down next to him and watched as he pulled out a bag of liquid energon, with a long tube attached.

‘Uh do you want to eat before I do this?’ Wheeljack offered. ‘It’s just I know a lot of people get put off their own meals when I eat.’

‘Medic remember.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure how someone could give off the impression of a grin, especially when they had almost no face, but Wheeljack somehow managed it.

‘If you’re sure.’ Ratchet watched, now curious, as Wheeljack took the tube and tilting his head back began to feed it down his throat.

‘You know one of the good things about this is I can talk and eat at the same time.’ Wheeljack said.

‘So I can see.’ Ratchet said getting his own energon out.

‘Not that I often have anyone to talk to when I eat.’ Ratchet nodded and began to eat. It didn’t take him long to finish and when he did he noticed Wheeljack’s bag was only half empty.

‘Sorry it can take a while.’ Wheeljack said when he saw him looking.

‘It’s fine.’ Ratchet reassured him. ‘I guess you got a lot of scrap for,’ for what? The way he looked, the way he ate?

‘Everything?’ Ratchet nodded

‘Yeah.’ Wheeljack agreed. ‘I mean my friends were fine with it, newbies could be a bit funny about it. Guess I was an unpleasant reminder of how risky the job could be. But they got over it eventually, for the most part. It was Darkwing that gave me the most scrap for it. Kind of ironic for a guy who didn’t even have a face.’ Ratchet made a sound that could have been a snort or a scoff at that.

‘Of course he did.’ 

***

They were about to make their way up the stairs when Wheeljack stopped and looked back.

‘What is it?’ Ratchet asked.

‘Nothing I’m just… Is it weird to say goodbye to a place you hated?’ He watched the older mech’s face carefully, but found he couldn’t read it.

‘I have a feeling it’s more than just this place you’re saying goodbye to.’ Wheeljack wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but in a way he understood. Taking one last look around he silently said farewell to the place, before continuing up the stairs. 

‘You know I could probably fix your face if you’d like?’ Ratchet said, nearly causing Wheeljack to stop walking in surprise. He thought about it for a moment. Then shook his head.

‘I’ve been like this for most of my life. I know it sounds weird but, this is me. It’s not always the easiest thing to live with. But I can’t see myself being any other way.’ He expected Ratchet to argue.

‘Alright if you feel that way. But my offer will remain open if you ever change your mind.’

[juunipupu]

Knight and the enemy within

[ghostlysleuth]

☠️ punk butch / teddy bear butch 🧸

happy pride month! this is also me testing gl@ze for the first time lol

(as usual, posted early on ptrn)

[beebeedibapbeediboop]

This is just my excuse to draw Lily in a victorian goth outfit tbh

[beebundt]

im busy with an art trade but wanted 2 share some recent scraps of charlie. i haven't posted abt her in years oh my god

[aphel1on]

i have such a love for characters who descend into madness or villainy out of deep, deep empathy. characters who fundamentally cannot cope with the cruel realities they find themselves in and blow up about it in spectacular fashion. fallen angel type characters with tears of outrage in their eyes. characters who break before they bend, and break so badly they splatter blood all over their noble ideals. every variation on it gets me so good

[wolfythewitch]

OCs based on my birds

[piosplayhouse]

14 year olds shipping discourse is inbreeding with itself to make the discourse equivalent of a brachycephalic bulldog at this point. They're inventing new extremely vague moral purity categories at a rate nearly equivalent to the Mormon church

* For the record btw a paraphilia by definition is just any sexual desire classed as "unusual" by the dsm, which can include anything from apparently getting horny about imagining yourself as a vampire (?) to being attracted to fictional characters, to being attracted to trans people. It's not an issue unless it has the capacity to cause real harm to yourself or others, at which point it becomes a paraphilic disorder

[anna-scribbles]

old doodles from the archives 🫶

[bethanythebogwitch]

[orcboxer]

those first couple weeks after escaping a time loop have gotta be disorienting as all fuck. all those little cues that used to tell you what's about to happen are now triggers that cause you to brace for something that isn't coming. you have to relearn the permanence of death -- hell, you have reacquaint yourself with the entire concept of finality altogether. everything keeps changing but it never changes back and you keep having to remind yourself that this is normal. "it won't reset anymore," you echo to yourself, over and over and over, like a broken record, like you're still trapped in a loop, like someone who escaped the time loop but was doomed to bring it into the future with them

[cryinganabell]

She looks goofy

[chloesimaginationthings]

Doggo will haunt FNAF series forever

[shellshooked]

to bury a goddess

[romans-art]

save me, crossdressing milkman Joan Fontaine. crossdressing milkman Joan Fontaine save me.