#this was a lot of fun I enjoyed doing it

[eldritchships]

Flatline in: Toxicity

Summary: A selection of scenes from the TFP episode "Toxicity", rewritten to include Flatline, my OC.

Author's Note: [Remembers that I can write snippets without necessarily needing to complete a whole fic] Haha cool :)

The ground bridge opened, swirling with green and blue light. Three Insecticons barreled through, wings humming as they touched down onto the volcanic rock beneath their pedes. Gathered around the ground bridge, the three watched Hardshell stalk out after them, with Flatline close behind. The Insecticons regarded Hardshell for a moment, waiting for his command as the bridge closed. Flatline’s right servo flexed, the syringe digit primed and ready, as Hardshell growled.

“Divide, and do not hesitate to conquer.” Hardshell raised his fists towards the sky in a gesture of strength. Wordlessly, the three Insecticons flew off in three different dimensions. Hardshell and Flatline transformed into their own respective flight modes. Hardshell travelled forward, in the yet-untaken direction; Ill-suited to travelling alone if things went awry, Flatline followed after him.

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Hardshell came back online with a groan. Slowly, he pulled himself to his pedes, shaking off the pain in his circuitry. The beating of chitinous wings filled the air, and the other three Insecticons circled overhead, grim expressions set on their beetle-like faces as they gathered around Hardshell. Flatline’s pink helm peered out from behind one of the rocks bordering the flat expanse, which had just been Bulkhead and Hardshell’s makeshift arena, and he strode across the space to rejoin the group.

“Do you still think you don’t need me?” A smirk crept into Flatline’s voice as he looked at the twitching nub on Hardshell’s face, which had formerly been his other mandible. Hardshell was sourly looking down, at where the severed end of the mandible lay, stuck into the ground at his pedes. Without moving his visor from the spot, he snarled at Flatline. The medic flinched, taking a quick step back.

“The Wrecker left me alive.” Hardshell paused, and a hiss escaped his maw. “The last mistake he will ever make.” With an inhuman leap upwards, Hardshell quickly transformed. He and the other Insecticons veered around, charging through the air on the trail of the relic. Flatline’s helicopter form flew alongside the sole straggler, rotor blades beating hard.

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As the Insecticon reached inside, muffled beeping emitted from inside of the container.

“No, wait-!” Hardshell exclaimed. The grenade hidden inside went off, exploding in a great burst of flame and force that shunted two of the curious Insecticons backwards. The third one, who had reached inside the container to begin with, wasn’t so lucky - he was blasted off his pedes, landing on his back. Jagged shrapnel of green rock had pierced through the Insecticon’s throat, and he writhed and let out a shriek before falling still, dead within seconds.

The whole thing had happened in less than a moment, too quick for anyone but Hardshell to do anything. But instead of being horrified by the gruesome state of the corpse lying before them all, Flatline perked up in visible interest.

“Oooh…” Flatline’s breathing mask slid over his faceplate, cooing as he hopped forward and crouched beside the fallen warrior. His bright blue optics glimmered with intrigue, and he reached towards the fuming shrapnel. Only for a massive clawed servo to wrap around his shoulder pauldron and yank him back. Flatline stumbled, and he glared at the back of Hardshell’s helm, as the leader stepped forward and leaned down himself. He just as quickly reared back when he recognised the substance, an arm held protectively across his faceplate.

“Tox-En.” Hardshell sneered, slowly backing away.

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The Insecticon corpse trembled and wailed, apparently not as dead as it might have initially seemed. Although, that might have been because of Flatline’s prodding, probing the foul injury with a pair of forceps. He could feel the Insecticons’ optics on his back, and he heard Hardshell’s grunt of irritation, but all of Flatline’s attention was focused on their dying compatriot.

“Lord Megatron. The object we seek, it is…Tox-En.”

The Insecticon whined weakly, and Flatline smiled behind his mask as he used the forceps to tilt its chin up, further exposing the wound and allowing him to record a proper reading of the Tox-En’s toxicity. It’d been a long time since Flatline had bared witness to the substance, and he wasn’t about to waste this wonderful opportunity.

He was vaguely aware that Hardshell and Megatron were still talking over the comm-link. Flatline couldn’t hear Megatron’s side of the brief exchange, but based on Hardshell’s growling tone, he assumed the conversation wasn’t going well.

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“Wrecker!”

Hardshell’s call echoed across the volcano’s solidified summit. Bulkhead looked up as Hardshell swooped down above, circling and landing across from the Autobot. He transformed, and ordered, “Put down the rock, and allow us to put you out of your misery.”

The rest of the Insecticons climbed over the lip of the volcano, claws and fangs bared. The ch-ch-ch of a t-cog joined the thrum of inhuman growling as Flatline touched down alongside them; his right servo hung by his hip, digits curled and blade primed.

Bulkhead’s optics narrowed, looking around at the group of Decepticons that currently had him surrounded.

“Gotta swat some flies…” His balance felt uneasy when he shifted his weight to his other pede, but his expression was set, determined.

Bulkhead took another grenade from his belt, flicking off the pin and throwing it at the feet of the nearest Insecticon. It peered at the grenade for the split-second before the grenade exploded, throwing it back against the rock wall. Hardshell snarled and unsheathed his second pair of arms, the taloned ends razor-sharp and ready to tear through green Autobot plating. The snarl deepened to a roar as Hardshell charged forward. Bulkhead planted his pedes, tightened his grip around the chunk of Tox-En, and thrust it upwards into Hardshell’s throat. Hardshell screamed, clawed pedes struggling for purchase on the molten rocky floor. He was held aloft by the Tox-En, spasming as the false energon’s touch dissolved through his neck cabling.

“Fair warning…” Bulkhead growled through gritted teeth while Hardshell struggled, “I’m contagious.”

The syringe-blade glanced off of Bulkhead’s armour, narrowly missing its intended target of the gap between the metal. Bulkhead winced and glanced back over his shoulder, in time to see the blade’s attached length of cable retract back into Flatline’s arm. Flatline’s optics were narrowed, and looked just as bloodthirsty as the Insecticons’ did.

“Then allow me to administer the cure.” Flatline’s arm snapped forward, the blade shooting forward at the speed of a bullet. It struck into Bulkhead’s back, and Bulkhead bellowed as he felt the weaponised syringe administering something foreign into his body. Flatline rolled his arm with one wide, quick motion. The syringe’s cable hooked up and around Bulkhead’s neck, and yanked. Bulkhead wrenched his helm against it - still forcing the Tox-En forward, not allowing Hardshell any reprieve - but a wave of nausea and weakness wracked his frame, Flatline’s poison adding to the Tox-En’s already overwhelming effects, and he hadn’t noticed the mad doctor rush towards him until Flatline’s other servo suddenly dug into his faceplate, ripping him downwards the rest of the way.

The ground rumbled as Bulkhead fell on his back. Freed from the Tox-En’s burn, Hardshell gasped and stumbled back, falling to all fours.

“You don’t look well, Autobot.” Flatline leered over Bulkhead’s fallen form, the cable still pulling taut against Bulkhead’s neck. Bulkhead blinked wearily, forced to watch Flatline’s lips curl with satisfaction. The rock was still within his grasp, and he tightened his hold around it - nothing else mattered except ensuring he still had hold of it.

Flatline slipped the syringe free of Bulkhead’s back, brandishing it like a knife while the cable was being used to strangle. Beads of energon dripped from the edge.

“Don’t worry,” Flatline pressed the syringe to the gap between Bulkhead’s neck and his chestplate. Flatline’s pseudo-soothing tone was ruined by a building laugh, “I’ll put you out of your misery.” He went to thrust, but Bulkhead’s free servo seized him by the arm. Bulkhead heaved, flipping Flatline over and slamming him into the ground in the same movement. Flatline cried out, plating groaning from the impact, and the syringe had slipped from his grasp. Bulkhead untangled the cable from around his neck and sucked air into his ventilation systems, doing his best to clear his aching processor.

Hardshell hadn’t strayed from the battle; he circled Bulkhead and Flatline, still low on all fours like a predator stalking its prey. The growl however was from Flatline, who rose to a half-crouch, the syringe-blade lashing at the air as it winched back into his servo with a soft snick. Bulkhead dragged himself to his pedes, eyeing them both. Flatline lunged forward, attempting to inject him again. Bulkhead pitched himself out of the way and punched Flatline in the back. The medibot wasn’t built for fighting, and the impact pounded him back down onto the ground with enough force to make his own processor spin. Bulkhead did himself, Hardshell, and maybe even Flatline a favour by grabbing the Decepti-Doc by the rotor blades and tossing him across the expanse of the summit. Flatline slammed into the rock with a pained shout.

On Bulkhead’s flank, another Insecticon took the opportunity to transform and charge. Bulkhead was ready for it, and swung around the chunk of Tox-En, knocking the bug out of the air. Dazed on its back, it couldn’t do anything to stop Bulkhead walking up to it, and slamming the Tox-En down against its stomach.

“Hold this.” Bulkhead ordered, as if it had a choice. The Insecticon groaned, horned head falling in defeat. With it out of the way, Bulkhead turned and placed all of his attention back onto his main adversary: Hardshell. The two circled each other, optics locked, and hackles raised.

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Bulkhead’s servo retracted, deploying his giant mace. He wound back, and hit Hardshell with everything he had.

Hardshell toppled, stumbling back until his heels reached the edge of a hole in the volcano’s otherwise sealed peak. Barely managing to catch himself, Hardshell glanced down at the smouldering crater, and then back towards Bulkhead. His mouth fell open in a warbling cry as he saw Bulkhead heave the piece of Tox-En towards him.

“Catch!” Bulkhead called. The rock slammed into Hardshell’s empty servos. The force pushed the Insecticon over the last of the distance, and he fell into the crater with a shocked scream.

The air felt clearer, apart from one last presence on the volcano alongside Bulkhead. He turned, locking optics with the last Decepticon left on the mountain. Flatline stared back at him. Bulkhead’s ventilation systems heaved, his shoulders hunched. His gaze bore into Flatline, and his mace was still held at his side, ready to bludgeon whatever threat remained.

Flatline glared at Bulkhead. He looked to the smouldering crater, where the last of his muscle had vanished into, and then back to the Wrecker. Bulkhead’s helm lowered, increasing the furrow in his brow. Wordlessly, Flatline took a step back, and then transformed. He knew his chances were abysmal in a one-on-one fight, so he chose to take off, retreating from the volcano.

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The mission had failed. Megatron was going to be…unhappy, to put it mildly. Flatline doubted he’d be able to avoid being reprimanded for his failure, not when he’d been assigned to assist the platoon of Insecticons. Maybe, hopefully, the Insecticons would receive the greater share of Megatron’s wrath. On the bright side, at least Flatline had escaped in better shape than Hardshell or Bulkhead.

And besides, there were other prizes more valuable than a simple victory.

Flatline chuckled, and increased his speed through the open sky. Safely nestled within his cabin, a sealed beaker rattled from the movement of its contents within. Through the flask’s thick glass, the murky glow of Tox-En shards, which Flatline had stolen from the fallen Insecticon’s throat, swirled with silent promise.

[mountainshroom]

They deserve to have a quiet moment for themselves (and Zuko is seriously questioning his taste in men)

[mintypsii]

i can't believe one piece invented gay people

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At your side [End of Season 2]

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[cj-the-random-artist]

I kept debating how to end this short little mini comic. In the original script, they were gonna hold hands (scandalous, I know lmfao), but I didn't think it hit quite right in comic format when I tried to make it longer. Hence why it ends... like that.

Anyways I wrote like a ton of comic scripts for COTL comics that just didn't hit right / I couldn't commit to making and then when driving home from work last week in the pitch darkness I thought about how nice it is to see like actual stars. And I feel like with the cult grounds being kind of among a lot of trees and all that it might take a short hike to get a really, really, really good view of the night sky and stuff. Thus. This.

It's arguably not my best work (I'm out of practice drawing good night skies and all that) but I'm happy with it. Enjoy this thing I made

[hinamie]

can't believe im saying this but long time no megumi

[gammija]

tiefling jon's first day at the Archives

[spkyart]

Baking

[egophiliac]

hiii im sure you’ve answered this before but in regards to your twst x Pokémon, how do you choose which Pokémon go give to the cast?? really curious since your choices are unique :O

unique in a good way, I hope? 😅 (jk jk I haven't come across too many pokemon AUs, so I was going in without preconceptions, I guess!) I was sorta aiming somewhere between doing, like, a full AU with internal consistency and everything, and just picking entirely based on theme/character, so maybe that's why! basically I just set some arbitrary rules (no legendaries/no repeats/evo stages based on year) and then went on ~vibes~. a couple were also suggestions (thank you guys!) and last-minute decisions, so it was a bit of a delightful mess of ideas!

my one regret is that I should have given Riddle a Togedemaru after all. ...you know what, he can have one now, why not

[narsh-poptarts]

my dark link thoughts coalesced into wonderful headcanons and crazy amounts of forced perspectives and dutch angles

also sorry HW i would have included your dark link(s) but i do not have passion for your game <3 maybe next time

Some thoughts below

I have thoughts about dark link that boil down to basically two things: 1. it's always the same dark link, and 2. dark link has a very difficult time changing.

No matter how many times dark link is brought into existence, he is formed from the shadow of link usually to test link's will. that shadow can be duplicated (as seen in HW) but generally speaking it's the same guy, sharing the thought space, you know how it is. In terms of sentience/thinking for himself, I don't think there's all that much of it. He is a dark reflection/shadow of link, so shares his abilities and thought patterns (for combat) with added aggression and. evil. i guess.

As said by navi, "conquer yourself", and all that. He's a challenge to the inner will power.

That being said!!! he can have a little bit of individuality, as a treat. Just in the form of being mean and sadistic <3 he's got thoughts, he's not just a combat doll (tho in times of low power, or a greater power having the reins, he reverts to that), so he can be frustrated, vindicated, happy, etc etc. though when your thoughts are mainly "evilevilevilevilevil" your idea of these emotions are a bit skewed.

When he's summoned for each different link, i hc that it's all the same magic, so the same dark link every time. he "remembers" in an abstract sense of his role in the same way a link or zelda "remembers" their own reincarnation. tho his is less of a reincarnation and more being used over and over again. a persistence.

The iteration that's summoned reflects the current link at the time, the part of link that needs testing/defeating, so it's not an existence that he himself can change to match the present. he's locked to that first copy/shadow only. So if he were to have a second encounter with an older link, he'd look like the first time they fought, unless he was specifically re-summoned. i hc he's got limited magic, so this is not something he can do himself.

in a links-meet scenario, his form would be limited to those specific forms of the links, and it would always be the points in time in which he first encountered them, unless there's other magic either he or someone else has access to to allow him to change forms to match.

now you might be saying at this point "wouldn't he be a weaker match if he was put up against an older link?" yeah probably lol. but also!!! i like the idea that with the limited magic he has, he's able to change juuuust enough to stay relatively evenly matched. being able to play to different strengths and all that. but the base stuff is still the same, so he is decently easy enough to read if link remembers the kind of stuff he was pulling back when he originally fought dark link.

dark link also knows about all this so while limited to the particular skillset, is able to adapt slightly.

but yeah been thinking a lot about a links-meet au where dark link is there choosing a different link to be every time he appears to the party.

though there are a couple links that he never impersonates in their games!!! so can't change into those guys unless he gets a new round of copycat magic.

Anyways goodbye guy standing there with standard camera angle, i have dutch angles and forced perspective

[xxplastic-cubexx]

i LOVE how you draw twink krakoa charles he's so...... twink...... your art is amazing

thank you so much !!!! i have a simple vision in mind whenever i draw krakoa charles next to erik, really:

it's significant he looks like a push pin next to erik it's infinitely better this way..

[buttercupshands]

So.

Act 5, huh?

Oh, and that.

"You can start breakdown now."

Finished the game couple of days ago and had some thoughts I needed to process a little. Like. Yes.

So anyway I actually didn't plan this and just wanted to redraw some sprites to just make sure I understand how to draw Siffrin correctly (still working on that!)

What did I learn from this? How fun it it to draw on a canvas that literally doesn't let you draw with colors without some layer cheating when necessary. Never tried it.

The beans. Sleeping beans.

Basically what happens when you want to sleep AND draw. Draw characters sleeping on your behalf.

Doesn't help, but at least it's cute.

I have no idea what was going on in my mind as I drew this. Feels like a fever dream of 'I want to sleep' at 4 am and 'Hm...' of thinking random things

Also that phone craft sign. Still too funny to imagine. I had to.

[haunted-xander]

Who's the "real" me?

+ some references for the Rise-related things I included <3

[detectiveposting]

my stages of watching columbo

1: hahah hes just a silly detective ;)

2: columbo is actually a cunning manipulative liar that hides his true persona behind the facade of a slow and clumsy middle class detective

3: hahah hes just a silly detective ;)

[inkskinned]

one of the things that i think we should pay attention to, socially, about the disney v. desantis thing is that it is really highlighting the importance of remembering nuance.

in a purely neutral sense, if you engage in something problematic, that does not mean you are necessarily agreeing with what makes it problematic. and i am worried that we have become... so afraid of any form of nuance.

disney isn't my friend, they're a corporate monopoly that bastardized copyright laws for their own benefit, ruin the environment, and abuse their workers (... and many other things). this isn't a hypothetical for me - i grew up in florida. i also worked for the actual Walt Disney World; like, in the parks. i am keenly aware of the ways they hurt people, because they hurt me. i fully believe that part of the reason florida is so conservative is because it's been an "open secret" for years now that disney lobbies the government to keep minimum wage down, and i know they worked hard to keep the parks unmasked and open during the worst parts of Covid. they purposefully keep their employees in poverty. they are in part responsible for the way the floridian government works.

desantis is still, by a margin that is frankly daunting, way worse. the alternative here isn't just "republicans win", it's actual fascism.

in a case like this, where the alternative is to allow actual fascism into united states legislation - where, if desantis wins, there are huge and legal ramifications - it's tempting to minimize the harm disney is also doing, because... well, it's not fascism. but disney isn't the good guy, either, which means republicans are having a field day asking activists oh, so you think their treatment of their employees is okay?

we have been trained there is a right answer. you're right! you're in the good group, and you're winning at having an opinion.

except i have the Internet Prophecy that in 2-3 months, even left-wing people will be ripping apart activists for having "taken disney's side". aren't i an anti-capitalist? aren't i pro-union? aren't i one of the good ones? removed from context and nuance (that in this particular situation i am forced to side with disney, until an other option reveals itself), my act of being like "i hope they have goofy rip his throat out onstage, shaking his lifeless body like a dog toy" - how quickly does that seem like i actually do support disney?

and what about you! at home, reading this. are you experiencing the Thought Crime of... actually liking some of the things disney has made? your memories of days at the parks, or of good movies, or of your favorite show growing up. maybe you are also evil, if you ever enjoyed anything, ever, at all.

to some degree, the binary idealization/vilification of individual motive and meaning already exists in the desantis case. i have seen people saying not to go to the disney pride events because they're cash grabs (they are). i've seen people saying you have to go because they're a way to protest. there isn't a lot of internet understanding of nuance. instead it's just "good show of support" or "evil bootlicking."

this binary understanding is how you can become radicalized. when we fear nuance and disorder, we're allowing ourselves the safety of assuming that the world must exist in binary - good or bad, problematic or "not" problematic. and unfortunately, bigots want you to see the world in this binary ideal. they want you to get mad at me because "disney is taking a risk for our community but you won't sing their praises" and they want me to get mad at you for not respecting the legit personal trauma that disney forced me through.

in a grander scheme outside of disney: what happens is a horrific splintering within activist groups. we bicker with each other about minimal-harm minimal-impact ideologies, like which depiction of bisexuality is the most-true. we gratuitously analyze the personal lives of activists for any sign they might be "problematic". we get spooked because someone was in a dog collar at pride. we wring our hands about setting an empty shopping mall on fire. we tell each other what words we may identify ourselves by. we get fuckin steven universe disk horse when in reality it is a waste of our collective time.

the bigots want you to spend all your time focusing on how pristine and pretty you and your interests are. they want us at each other's throats instead of hand in hand. they want to say see? nothing is ever fucking good enough for these people.

and they want their followers to think in binary as well - a binary that's much easier to follow. see, in our spaces, we attack each other over "proper" behavior. but in bigoted groups? they attack outwards. they have someone they hate, and it is us. they hate you, specifically, and you are why they have problems - not the other people in their group. and that's a part of how they fucking keep winning.

some of the things that are beloved to you have a backbone in something terrible. the music industry is a wasteland. the publishing industry is a bastion of white supremacy. video games run off of unpaid labor and abuse.

the point of activism was always to bring to light that abuse and try to stop it from happening, not to condemn those who engage in the content that comes from those industries. "there is no ethical consumption under late capitalism" also applies to media. your childhood (and maybe current!) love of the little mermaid isn't something you should now flinch from, worried you'll be a "disney adult". wanting the music industry to change for the better does not require that you reject all popular music until that change occurs. you can acknowledge the harm something might cause - and celebrate the love that it has brought into your life.

we must detach an acknowledgment of nuance from a sense of shame and disgust. we must. punishing individual people for their harmless passions is not doing good work. encouraging more thoughtful, empathetic consumption does not mean people should feel ashamed of their basic human capacities and desires. it should never have even been about the individual when the corporation is so obviously the actual evil. this sense that we must live in shame and dread of our personal nuances - it just makes people bitter and hopeless. do you have any idea how scared i am to post this? to just acknowledge the idea of nuance? that i might like something nuanced, and engage in it joyfully? and, at the same time, that i'm brutally aware of the harm that they're doing?

"so what do i do?" ... well, often there isn't a right answer. i mean in this case, i hope mickey chops off ron's head and then does a little giggle. but truth be told, often our opinions on nuanced subjects will differ. you might be able to engage in things that i can't because the nuance doesn't sit right with me. i might think taylor swift is a great performer and a lot of fun, and you might be like "raquel, the jet fuel emissions". we are both correct; neither of us have any actual sway in this. and i think it's important to remember that - the actual scope of individual responsibility. like, i also love going to the parks. Thunder Mountain is so fun. you (just a person) are not responsible for the harm that Disney (the billion dollar corporation) caused me. i don't know. i think it's possible to both enjoy your memories and interrogate the current state of their employment policies.

there is no right way to interrogate or engage with nuance - i just hope you embrace it readily.

[gunstellations]

In the world I love

_

In a different world