#war robots hacks

[lateforthewonder]

i present to you: The absolutecrosszone192 Collection

[tank-one-games]

here you see a hacking who is hacking the hell out of war robots timeline 4:40 have fun play fair

[barrymccaulkinem]

love general grievous. dude seems to still have organs just so they can suck at being organs lol

[artbyblastweave]

Playing through Fallout:New Vegas for the first time in years. And I'm developing a newfound appreciation for the damage done to the intended pacing of the narrative with the addition of the Courier's Stash. I wake up in Goodsprings, and as part of the extended tutorial you have Ghosttown Gunfight, the fairly self-contained faction war between Goodsprings and the Powder Gangers. And the design intent, I think, is that this is probably supposed to be a pain in the ass, with only one or two avenues of support available to you given the low level at which you'll pick this one up. Six Powder Gangers, some in body-armor, would be a serious threat, and committing to fighting against that with your dinky 9mm and a varmint rifle seems like a rough time! An actual uphill battle, doing the right thing instead of the easy thing. Fortunately, Benny inexplicably left my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, so I cleaned up.

I'm working my way south, and, you know, in a version of the game where Benny didn't inexplicably leave my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, this would have been the knock-on effect of my "good" Karmic choice in defending Goodsprings; the road south is littered with powder gangers who'd have been neutral had I not kicked the hornet's nest. As it stands? Free experience. I hit Primm, and fighting through the cramped hallways of the Bison Steve I encounter an enemy armed with what was clearly supposed to be the first heavy weapon I'd encounter in the world. Tight Corridors. Inexplicable Grenade Launcher. I clean up. South I go to the Mojave outpost, Nipton, that whole thing. And clearly, clearly you aren't meant to take a swing at Vulpes here, right? You're supposed to take it in, get a sense for the legion. In the version of the game that shipped you're supposed to get bodied if you try to kick the beef gate here. There are allowances in the game for if you pull it off, sure, but I did try with just the service rifle, without the glorious first-strike capabilities afforded to me by the 40mm grenade launcher that Benny inexplicably left in the grave with me. It didn't go very well!

So now I'm dogged by Legion hit squads on my way to Novac, which I get the distinct impression was not the point in the game at which this was supposed to start happening to me, because I am gathering up some pretty expensive equipment, all sold for space. I punch through to Vegas, and at this stage, the clear developer intent is that you need to spend some time milling around Freeside or Camp McCarran in order to gain access to the Strip- do odd jobs to scrape up the money, buy the forgery from Mick and Ralphs, gain monorail access, get your science skill high enough to hack the robot. Get the lay of the land, get a feel for the people, send some time stewing in the human cost of House's walled garden before you head in and hear the pitch from the big man himself.

Except I've got 5000 caps from selling off all the legion killteam equipment. In I go!

And the fun thing is, right, the Courier's stash can't be diegetic, but it is having a very direct impact on the world here. A top legion guy just went down to my inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher. Whatever else I'm roleplaying as, I am roleplaying as a guy who woke up in the possession of an inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher, and neither I nor my character can plausibly ignore that fact given its terrible bloodstained utility. I play a man, a man who would be a good man, a man nonetheless bewitched by the terrible resolutory power of the grenade launcher. My best friend, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher! My worst enemy, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher!

[justarandomweeb]

Yandere LL x Earth Liaison Reader

No beta read we die like fucking men and I swear I'm a dummy in English (not a first language) OH YEAH the characters might be a bit ooc since I haven't finished mtmte

Edit: um chat... this shit was not supposed to be posted um- whoops I guess??? I can't take this shit out um, I thought Tumblr ate this drabble, turns out I accidentaly posted it???

'FUCK FUCK FUCK!' a lone human curse in their head as they crouch walk inside the vents, navigating the never ending maze, watching your steps and sound. You knew those bots have good hearing, but they're not your priority to be worrying. It was Skids and those with him inside the vents, you can hear the heavy bodies thuding and thumping. He knew the ship like the back of his hand, you would say. You could have used your inbuilt digital map over the paper map you crudly and hastily drew, but you knew it would be a matter of time before Perceptor or who over is smart enough hacks into your watch and pings your location.

You wished you would've seen the signs, no...

You wished you had never dreamed of meeting aliens as a child, riding a rocket ship, and fly through space. You wished you never pushed so hard for that silly dream that soon became a nightmare.

Yet, you were blind to it. Ignoring the signs, thinking, 'Oh, it must be a cultural thing' or 'They probably are curious about humans and our culture, most of them haven't met one.' The ones who didn't liked organics in general became more softer, yet possessive as the rest of others. The prisoners coaxed you to free them from their cells, just so they'd 'express' their love. The enemies bribing you to join them, promising you unbroken loyalty and adoration.

Those innocent questions became... intimate and invasive.

Megatron, he didn't want to be near you. You didn't know if it's out of guilt or a still prejudice against the organics. You knew his history, the war, and the devastating impacts he caused. You were willing to give him a chance. You talked to him. At first, it was one-sided, and then he replied back, with small answers, acknowledgments, and comebacks. You'd tease him when you saw a small smirk. He'd deny. You joined his poetry sessions, exchanging poetry to one another, critiquing and praising each other. You'd read him classic human literature, and he'd read you cybertronian literature in those moments it was just you and him. When did it all go wrong...

Ultra Magnus he intimidated you, a big guy with those stern eyes and broad shoulders. Of course, a big man like him would be the goody to shoes, abid to the law like its his only identity. You thought you could never relate to him outside of work, that he and you will never understand one another. You'd talk when the air was empty. You'd tell him about the dumb decisions you've made when you were a kid, stealing gums and candies, sneaking in an abandoned building with friends, attending street racing, laughing at your own idiocy and stupid antics, but you reminisce the bond you had with your friends. Ultra Magnus would criticize your actions, listing all of the laws and rules you've broken. But this time, he just listened, didn't list down your crimes, keeping quiet. You don't know what he was thinking other than the possible charges you'd have if you'd have gotten caught. When did it go wrong...

When you first met Rodimus, he reminded you of a frat boy who was given leadership in a silver plate. Not taking anything seriously, meteor surfing, delaying his reports, not even paying attention half of the time on the meetings. You'd chase him down, trying to get his attention. You've felt like a mother trying to discipline an unruly child, but this child is giant fucking robot leading an expedition in outerspace. That what you'd have thought of him, till you saw his struggles. The guilt of the deaths of crewmates, what he could have done if he did things differently. You'd shoulder his burdens, cradling his helm. You'd look at him eye to eye, telling him not to blame himself that he did what he could. You'd help him out with reports. You'd hold his giant servos that it helped him be grounded on the meetings. You'd laugh at his jokes, bite back with scarastic comebacks. You final smiled at him, when those days where he feels down, you'd let him in your lap again. When did it go wrong...

You've been invited to the movie sessions with the Minicons, sharing your favorite movies and series with them. You'd hang out with Rung, help him build his miniature spacescrafts, sitting quietly with him during the sessions of his patients and letting them hold you. It felt therapeutic for them. You'd help out on medbay reaching through the cracks of patients to close the delicate wires, medics freeting over you after a successful operation. You'd gossip with them and talk about the stupid antics those bots done to be sent to medbay, trying to knock sense on those daredevils.

Your time at Lost Light was up. You wished you've stayed longer, but you definitely missed home. Your family and friends are waiting for your return. You were walking through the corridors to the meeting room to talk about your retirement when you heard yelling from the cracks of the doors.

"Can't we destroy their space bridge? Brainstorm and Perceptor can make it seem it malfunctioned. Even blow it up completely for safe measures. Besides, it's the only space bridge that connects to Earth directly."

"Rodimus please, we can't do this to them."

"Please, Mags, I know you'd don't want them gone too! I can see the way you looked at them Mags, you love them too like I do. We all do here. The crew would help out Mags, I talked to everybody on the comms, so please do it for us."

You can't believe what you're hearing, why won't they let you go home. You turn around to see three mechs, your eyes water over the betrayal. You ran before they can catch you, diving into the vents for refuge. You can hear them telling everybody you ran away, you're scared. You didn't ask for this. You're regretting everything. Maybe you should have stayed at home, be a boring office worker over being chased by crazy giant bots who refuse to let you go home.

You wonder... When Did It Go Wrong.

[urdreamydoodles]

MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS x FEM!READER

The Marvel Comics Characters babysit your dog, Mr. Pickles

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Marc Spector, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Susan Storm, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa, Elektra Natchios, Victor von Doom, Peter Quill & Nova

Mr. Pickles: 100 | Marvel’s Most Dangerous Characters: 0

Peter Parker & Mr. Pickles

- Peter Parker thought he had seen chaos. He had battled the Sinister Six, fought off symbiotes, and saved the city more times than he could count. But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for babysitting your tiny, fluffy, utterly reckless dog, Mr. Pickles.

- The first incident happened within minutes. Peter had barely set his backpack down when he turned around to find Mr. Pickles teetering on the edge of the kitchen counter, somehow having climbed up without opposable thumbs or logic. A split second later, Peter was diving forward, catching the little menace midair like he was saving a falling civilian from a burning building.

- Webbing became his only salvation. After Mr. Pickles managed to squeeze himself into the vents (how?!), Peter had no choice but to create an elaborate web barricade in the apartment. The place looked less like your home and more like a Spider-Man containment field.

- When he tried to work on some web fluid at your kitchen table, Mr. Pickles took it upon himself to bat at the vials like he was a cat, sending one flying straight into Peter’s hair. “Oh, come on, dude—do you have a vendetta against physics?!” he groaned, now stuck to the chair.

- By the time you returned, Peter was sitting on the couch, hair a mess, web fluid staining his fingers, Mr. Pickles curled up in his lap like an innocent angel. “Your dog is not real,” Peter muttered, voice hollow from exhaustion. “He is an agent of chaos.” But then you laughed, kissed his cheek, and suddenly, he decided maybe babysitting Mr. Pickles was worth it.

Tony Stark & Mr. Pickles

- Tony Stark was a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—and now, apparently, an unwilling dog sitter. He had babysat robots more predictable than your tiny, fluffy terror, Mr. Pickles, who seemed to have a personal grudge against his entire penthouse.

- Five minutes in, the dog had already hacked into JARVIS. “Sir,” JARVIS reported, “Mr. Pickles has managed to override security protocols and is currently sending an email to Pepper Potts.” Tony whipped around. “He what?” The email in question was just a string of random letters and a single attachment: a blurry photo of Mr. Pickles’ own tail.

- The next three hours were spent chasing the demon-dog through the penthouse. Mr. Pickles had chewed through a custom Italian leather shoe, knocked over an entire tray of expensive whiskey glasses, and somehow ended up inside the Iron Man gauntlet display.

- Thinking himself the superior intellect, Tony built a small tracking device for Mr. Pickles. That lasted exactly fifteen minutes before the dog removed it and buried it inside one of Tony’s prized sports cars.

- By the time you came home, Tony was slumped in his chair, his expensive suit now covered in dog fur, while Mr. Pickles pranced happily across the table like he had won the war. “Your dog needs an exorcist,” Tony grumbled. You just kissed his forehead and said, “But you love him, right?” Tony sighed. “Unfortunately… yeah.”

Steve Rogers & Mr. Pickles

- Steve Rogers had fought in wars, led the Avengers, and stared down threats that could destroy the world. But nothing prepared him for babysitting Mr. Pickles, a dog whose only purpose in life seemed to be challenging the laws of nature.

- It started with the shield. Steve had set it down for one minute—one single minute—and somehow, Mr. Pickles had lodged himself inside the strap loops, running across the apartment with it stuck to his back like a medieval knight.

- The escape attempts were relentless. Every time Steve turned away, Mr. Pickles was finding new ways to jailbreak from the apartment. He squeezed under doors, climbed onto furniture he had no business reaching, and at one point, managed to activate Steve’s emergency communicator by jumping onto the counter. Sam Wilson showed up at the door minutes later, breathless. “Did you just summon the Avengers?” Steve sighed. “No. The dog did.”

- Steve had fought entire battles with less stress. When he tried to cook dinner, Mr. Pickles stole an entire steak off the counter and stared Steve dead in the eye as he ate it. When he tried to read a book, the dog somehow ended up inside the couch cushions.

- When you walked in, Steve was on the floor, holding Mr. Pickles upside down like he had accepted defeat. “Your dog has the soul of a war general,” Steve muttered. You just smiled, kissing his cheek. “That’s why I trusted Captain America to babysit him.” Steve sighed, looking at the fluffy criminal in his arms. “Yeah. I guess I kind of like him.”

Thor & Mr. Pickles

- Thor, the God of Thunder, had faced frost giants, dark elves, and cosmic horrors. But none of them were as terrifyingly determined as your tiny, fluffy white dog, Mr. Pickles.

- The moment Thor sat down, Mr. Pickles leapt onto his lap, staring into his soul with his beady eyes. Thor grinned. “Ah! A warrior spirit!” He scratched behind Mr. Pickles’ ears, convinced that this small creature was surely an Asgardian beast in disguise.

- Things took a turn when Thor left Mjolnir on the ground. Mr. Pickles, in his infinite foolishness, tried to pick it up. When the hammer didn’t budge, he began barking at it, circling it like it was an enemy. Thor, amused beyond belief, sat back and watched the battle unfold.

- Mr. Pickles did not win. But he did not give up, either. Thor, impressed by his persistence, lifted Mjolnir just enough for Mr. Pickles to wiggle underneath and emerge victorious. “You are brave,” Thor declared. “And terribly, terribly dumb.”

- When you returned, Mr. Pickles was sitting atop Thor’s shoulder like he was king of Asgard. Thor beamed at you. “Your small beast is worthy! I shall take him to battle!” You simply sighed. “Thor, please don’t take my dog to battle.”

Loki & Mr. Pickles

- Loki, Prince of Asgard and God of Mischief, should have known better. He was the master of deception, the embodiment of chaos—but even he was not prepared for your small, dumb, fluffy menace, Mr. Pickles.

- The trouble started the moment you left. Loki, confident in his abilities, had settled in with a book. Within ten minutes, Mr. Pickles had stolen one of his enchanted daggers and was running laps around the room with it.

- Loki was not amused. He summoned illusions of himself to try and corner the beast, but Mr. Pickles—defying all reason— managed to sniff out the real Loki every time.

- Realizing he had met his match, Loki decided to strike a deal. “You may keep the dagger,” he told Mr. Pickles, “if you agree to cease your foolishness.” Mr. Pickles promptly ignored him and chewed on the dagger handle.

- By the time you returned, Loki was sitting on the couch, holding Mr. Pickles like a defeated king cradling his downfall. “Your dog,” Loki said, “is the single most infuriating creature I have ever encountered.” You just smiled. “But you like him, right?” Loki sighed, reluctantly scratching behind Mr. Pickles’ ears. “Against my better judgment… yes.”

Clint Barton & Mr. Pickles

- Clint Barton thought he had dealt with enough chaos in his life. He had fought aliens, battled crime syndicates, and survived on a diet of pizza and sarcasm. But babysitting your tiny, fluffy, perpetually confused dog, Mr. Pickles? That was an entirely new level of disaster.

- The first mistake Clint made was underestimating Mr. Pickles. “Yeah, yeah, I got this,” he had said as you left. Five minutes later, the dog had vanished. One second he was on the couch, the next, he was gone—like a ghost with bad decision-making skills.

- The next three hours turned into a full-blown tactical operation. Clint used every trick in the book—tracking skills, stealth maneuvers, even an actual infrared scope—only to find Mr. Pickles sitting inside Clint’s quiver, chewing happily on an arrowhead. “Dude, I need those,” Clint groaned, prying the slobbery mess from tiny jaws.

- He tried distracting Mr. Pickles with treats. That worked for exactly two minutes before the dog somehow managed to jump onto the kitchen counter, knock over a coffee mug, and hit the emergency call button on Clint’s burner phone. When Kate Bishop picked up, laughing, Clint groaned, “Shut up. I don’t want to talk about it.”

- By the time you came home, Clint was laying on the floor, defeated, as Mr. Pickles slept soundly on his chest. “Your dog is part ninja, part escape artist, and entirely evil,” Clint muttered. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But you love him, right?” Clint sighed, reluctantly scratching behind Mr. Pickles’ ears. “…Yeah, yeah. I love the dumb little menace.”

Natasha Romanoff & Mr. Pickles

- Natasha Romanoff was an elite assassin, a master of espionage, and completely unbothered by most things. Until, of course, she had to babysit Mr. Pickles.

- At first, she thought it would be easy. “He’s small,” she had told herself. “He’s fluffy. How much trouble can he be?” Two hours later, Natasha was standing on the coffee table, arms crossed, watching as Mr. Pickles circled her boots like a tiny, unhinged shark.

- She quickly realized Mr. Pickles had a taste for destruction. He tore apart a throw pillow, attempted to climb inside the dishwasher, and somehow chewed through her phone charger within ten minutes. “You’re worse than Clint,” she muttered, watching as he tried (and failed) to jump onto the windowsill.

- Despite the chaos, she found herself impressed by his persistence. When he got stuck in a blanket, he wiggled until he was free. When he knocked over his water bowl, he marched right through it like an unstoppable force. He reminded her, in some strange way, of herself—small but relentless, completely unaware of limits.

- When you returned, Mr. Pickles was curled up in Natasha’s lap, snoring softly. She glanced at you and smirked. “Your dog is dangerous,” she said. You laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “But you like him, right?” Natasha rolled her eyes but continued petting him. “…I tolerate him.” That was Natasha-speak for yes.

Bucky Barnes & Mr. Pickles

- Bucky Barnes had fought in wars, survived decades of brainwashing, and carried the weight of his past like an iron chain. Babysitting your tiny, fluffy disaster of a dog, Mr. Pickles, should have been easy. It was not.

- The first problem was the metal arm. Mr. Pickles was obsessed with it. He barked at it, licked it, and then tried to bite it—only to look extremely offended when his tiny teeth did nothing. “Buddy, I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here,” Bucky muttered, watching as the dog attempted (and failed) to wrestle his vibranium fingers.

- Mr. Pickles had no fear. He ran headfirst into furniture, nearly launched himself off the couch three separate times, and somehow got his head stuck inside a cereal box. Bucky spent a full five minutes just sighing and shaking his head before helping him out.

- By the end of the night, Bucky had fully accepted his fate. He sat on the couch, watching as Mr. Pickles zoomed around like a tiny white blur of chaos. “You’re exhausting,” Bucky told him. Mr. Pickles just wagged his tail, happy as ever.

- When you returned, Bucky was sitting on the floor, Mr. Pickles curled up in his lap, peacefully snoring. He glanced up at you, face unreadable. “We had a long discussion,” he said. “He’s still an idiot. But he’s our idiot.”

Matthew Murdock & Mr. Pickles

- Matt Murdock had dealt with enough surprises in life. He had lost his sight as a child, trained as a fighter, and spent his nights protecting Hell’s Kitchen. But nothing prepared him for the absolute chaos of babysitting Mr. Pickles.

- The first issue was his heightened senses. Mr. Pickles was small but somehow louder than an explosion. Every tiny footstep, every excited bark, every disastrous moment of chaos was amplified to near unbearable levels.

- Then came the smell. Matt had barely turned his back before he caught the unmistakable scent of a chewed-up shoe. He turned, unamused. “You did not just eat my dress shoes.” Mr. Pickles wagged his tail, entirely unremorseful.

- When the dog managed to escape into the hallway, Matt had no choice but to rely on his enhanced hearing to track him down. He followed the tiny, frantic paws to the stairwell—where Mr. Pickles had somehow managed to get stuck between two steps. “You are so lucky I like you,” Matt muttered, scooping him up.

- When you returned, Matt was sitting on the couch, Mr. Pickles resting on his lap. He turned his head toward you and smiled. “You didn’t tell me your dog was a criminal mastermind,” he teased. You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. “But you like him, right?” Matt sighed, stroking Mr. Pickles’ tiny head. “…Yeah. I do.”

Frank Castle & Mr. Pickles

- Frank Castle had seen hell. He had been to war, lost everything, and waged a bloody battle against crime. Babysitting your tiny, fluffy, completely clueless dog should not have been the hardest mission of his life.

- It started with the growling. Mr. Pickles hated Frank’s boots. Every time Frank took a step, the dog charged at them like a feral beast, tiny tail wagging in pure, misplaced aggression. “You got a death wish, pal?” Frank muttered. Mr. Pickles barked once.

- Frank was not a dog person. But somehow, Mr. Pickles was determined to change that. He followed Frank around like a tiny, white shadow, completely ignoring the fact that Frank was actively trying to ignore him.

- At some point, Frank gave up. He sat down, glancing at the tiny beast sitting next to him. “Alright, you win,” he muttered. Mr. Pickles immediately rolled onto his back, demanding belly rubs. Frank sighed, rubbing his face. “Unbelievable.”

- By the time you came home, Frank was sitting on the couch, a tiny, snoring Mr. Pickles curled up beside him. He looked at you, completely serious. “Your dog is a menace,” he said. Then, after a long pause, he sighed. “…But he’s a good kid.”

Marc Spector & Mr. Pickles

- Marc Spector has fought gods, mercenaries, and monsters lurking in the shadows. He has survived betrayals, bloodshed, and nights spent drowning in his own mind. But he was not prepared for Mr. Pickles.

- The dog hated structure, which was a problem, because Marc thrived on it. He tried to set a routine—food at seven, walk at eight, no chewing on anything remotely important. Within minutes, Mr. Pickles had knocked over a lamp, chewed on Marc’s combat boots, and somehow disappeared inside a kitchen cabinet.

- Jake Lockley found him first. When Marc blinked, his reflection smirked and said, “El perrito es un desastre.” (The little dog is a disaster.) When he switched to Steven, he just heard a horrified, “Marc, he’s got your cape!”

- By the end of the night, Mr. Pickles was asleep on Marc’s chest, his tiny form rising and falling with each breath. Marc sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve fought Anubis. I’ve walked the path of the dead. And I was defeated… by you.”

- When you returned, you found Marc asleep on the couch, Mr. Pickles curled up against his ribs. You kissed his temple, whispering, “So, how’d it go?” Marc cracked one eye open. “I think we made a blood pact,” he muttered. “Your dog owns me now.”

Johnny Storm & Mr. Pickles

- Johnny Storm thought babysitting Mr. Pickles would be easy. He was a superhero, a celebrity, a professional fun-haver. Dogs loved him. He loved dogs. It should have been a perfect match.

- He was wrong.

- The first issue arose within ten minutes. Johnny had turned his back for two seconds when he heard a crash. He spun around to find Mr. Pickles standing victoriously on top of a knocked-over shelf, a chewed-up sock in his mouth. Johnny pointed at him. “Okay, that’s strike one.”

- Strike two came when the dog managed to climb onto Johnny’s bed, get tangled in the sheets, and somehow turn on the ceiling fan. Johnny barely caught him before he became airborne. “Buddy, you cannot just try to take flight,” he scolded, untangling him.

- By strike three, Johnny had accepted defeat. He laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling, as Mr. Pickles happily licked his face. “You win, little dude. I can’t keep up.”

- When you got home, Johnny was half-asleep, Mr. Pickles curled up in his hoodie. He groaned dramatically. “You didn’t tell me you had a tiny, fluffy supervillain.” You smirked, ruffling his hair. “But you love him, right?” Johnny sighed. “…Yeah, okay. He’s cool.”

Reed Richards & Mr. Pickles

- Reed Richards has solved equations that baffle the greatest minds of the century. He has rewritten physics, built machines that defy reality, and held the fabric of the multiverse in his hands. But nothing could have prepared him for Mr. Pickles.

- It started as an experiment. Reed, ever the scientist, wanted to study the peculiar behavior of your fluffy, oblivious dog. “It’s fascinating,” he mused, adjusting his glasses as Mr. Pickles attempted to bite his own tail and immediately fell over.

- That fascination quickly turned into mild horror when Mr. Pickles found his way into the lab. Within seconds, he had knocked over a beaker, chewed on some incredibly important notes, and—somehow—turned on the molecular destabilizer.

- Reed had to stretch halfway across the room to shut it off before anything catastrophic happened. He picked up Mr. Pickles, holding him at arm’s length. “You, sir, are an anomaly.” Mr. Pickles wagged his tail, completely unbothered.

- By the time you came home, Reed was sitting on the couch, reading quantum mechanics to Mr. Pickles, who was dozing on his lap. He adjusted his glasses. “He’s… quite the experiment.” You laughed, kissing his cheek. “But you love him, right?” Reed hesitated, then sighed. “…I suppose I do.”

Ben Grimm & Mr. Pickles

- Ben Grimm, the ever-lovin’ blue-eyed Thing, had faced cosmic horrors, supervillains, and existential crises. Babysitting your tiny, fluffy, dumb dog should’ve been easy. It was not.

- Within the first five minutes, Mr. Pickles had somehow gotten himself stuck under the couch. Ben sighed, reaching under with his massive hand and plucking the tiny dog up like a stubborn sock. “Kid, I’m tellin’ ya, you got no survival instincts.”

- Mr. Pickles, undeterred, immediately tried to chew on Ben’s massive rocky fingers. Ben raised a brow. “Oh, so you wanna scrap, huh?” The dog growled playfully, yapping at him with all the confidence of a creature who had never faced consequences.

- Eventually, Ben sat on the couch, Mr. Pickles curled up on his lap, snoring. He huffed, crossing his arms. “Ain’t no one better tell Reed about this. I got a reputation.”

- When you came back, you grinned at the sight of them together. “So, did you two bond?” Ben scoffed. “Bond? Nah. But… maybe he ain’t so bad. For a troublemaker.” Mr. Pickles snored louder. “…Yeah, yeah, I get it. You win, furball.”

Susan Storm & Mr. Pickles

- Susan Storm had dealt with far worse than a tiny, fluffy dog. Or so she thought.

- At first, everything was fine. Mr. Pickles wagged his tail, looking deceptively innocent. Susan smiled. “Oh, you’re adorable. This will be easy.” She would regret saying that.

- The second she turned around, Mr. Pickles vanished. Not literally, but it sure felt like it. Susan searched the Baxter Building, using her invisibility to sneak up on him. She found him in Reed’s lab, chewing on a very expensive-looking piece of tech.

- “Oh no, no, no—bad dog!” She swooped in, scooping him up before he could cause an explosion. Mr. Pickles licked her nose. She sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

- By the time you got back, Susan was sitting on the couch, petting Mr. Pickles with one hand while rubbing her temple with the other. You grinned. “So, how did it go?” She gave you a tired smile. “…I love you, but next time, Johnny is babysitting.”

Felicia Hardy & Mr. Pickles

- Felicia Hardy had done a lot of reckless things in her life. She had stolen diamonds from locked vaults, toyed with superheroes, danced along the razor’s edge of disaster. But Mr. Pickles? He was a different kind of challenge.

- At first, she wasn’t impressed. “This is the little menace?” she had said, eyeing him. Then, five minutes later, she was chasing him around the apartment, cursing under her breath as he dodged every attempt to catch him.

- She realized, with a sort of begrudging admiration, that Mr. Pickles was fast. He slipped through her fingers, ducked under tables, and even managed to knock over a priceless antique vase she had definitely stolen.

- By the end of the night, Felicia had completely given in. She sat on the floor, watching as Mr. Pickles happily gnawed on a stolen hair tie. “You’re a little criminal,” she murmured, “and I kinda respect it.”

- When you came home, you found Felicia curled up on the couch, Mr. Pickles sleeping on her stomach. She cracked an eye open and smirked. “He’s growing on me.” You grinned. “So you love him?” Felicia stretched, running her fingers through his fur. “…Yeah. But don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.”

Stephen Strange & Mr. Pickles

- Stephen Strange was one of the most powerful sorcerers in existence. He had traveled across dimensions, held the fate of the universe in his hands, bargained with cosmic entities. Babysitting Mr. Pickles should have been beneath him.

- And yet, here he was, standing in his Sanctum Sanctorum, staring at the tiny, fluffy creature wreaking absolute havoc. “No,” he said flatly as Mr. Pickles climbed onto the Cloak of Levitation, chewed on the enchanted embroidery, and then tried to ride it like a tiny, ill-advised chariot.

- Wong walked in, took one look at the chaos, and turned right back around. “Not my problem.”

- Stephen sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, you little menace. You’ve bested gods and mystics alike. What do you want?” Mr. Pickles barked once, wagging his tail. “Of course. Attention.”

- When you returned, Stephen was sitting in his armchair, the Cloak of Levitation draped around both him and Mr. Pickles. He didn’t even look up as you entered. “Your dog has no respect for the eldritch arts.” You bit back a laugh. “But you love him, right?” Stephen sighed dramatically. “…Against my better judgment, yes.”

Namor & Mr. Pickles

- Namor, King of Atlantis, First Mutant, Imperius Rex—babysitting a tiny, fluffy, absurdly dumb land creature was beneath him. He had ruled for centuries, waged wars, and stood against titans. And yet, you had looked at him with those eyes, and suddenly, here he was.

- Within minutes, Mr. Pickles had launched himself into a decorative Atlantean fountain, paddling with all the grace of a drowning pearl diver. Namor, unimpressed, crossed his arms. “You are not suited for the ocean, tiny beast.” Mr. Pickles barked, thrilled.

- The palace was not meant for creatures like him. In the span of an hour, he had chewed on an ancient scroll, attempted to befriend a very unamused sea serpent, and somehow found his way into the throne room, where he proudly sat upon Namor’s throne. The royal guards had never been more confused.

- By the time you returned, Namor stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as Mr. Pickles wagged his tail at his feet. “Your creature is reckless, absurdly ill-equipped for survival, and entirely too confident for his own good.” You bit back a smile. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

- He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Against my better judgment, I will tolerate him.” You knelt, scooping Mr. Pickles into your arms. “Oh, so you love him?” Namor scoffed, turning on his heel. “Do not push your luck.” But the way Mr. Pickles trotted after him suggested otherwise.

Johnny Blaze & Mr. Pickles

- Johnny Blaze, the Ghost Rider, had made a deal with the Devil himself—but even Mephisto hadn’t prepared him for Mr. Pickles. He was expecting something manageable, maybe even chill. Instead, he got a tiny, fluffy tornado of chaos.

- Mr. Pickles immediately attempted to fight his motorcycle. Not sniff it. Not inspect it. Fight it. The little thing barked furiously at the flaming wheels, jumping up in a wild, futile attempt to bite them. Johnny had seen demons with more self-preservation.

- When Johnny tried to take a nap, Mr. Pickles climbed onto his chest, stared directly into his soul, and promptly sneezed on his face. Johnny wiped his face with a groan. “You’re lucky you’re cute, man.”

- At some point, the dog managed to run off with Johnny’s favorite leather jacket. By the time he caught him, Mr. Pickles was rolling around in it like it was his new personal throne. Johnny narrowed his eyes. “…Alright. You win. It’s yours now.”

- When you got home, you found Johnny on the couch, absently scratching Mr. Pickles’ ears. You grinned. “So, how’d it go?” Johnny sighed. “I think I just sold my soul again. To your dog.”

Eddie Brock / Venom & Mr. Pickles

- Eddie Brock had Venom. You had Mr. Pickles. The problem was that Venom did not understand why Mr. Pickles existed.

- “Is it prey?” Venom asked within the first five minutes. Eddie sighed, rubbing his temples. “No, buddy. It’s a pet.” Venom tilted its head. “We do not eat it?” Mr. Pickles wagged his tail obliviously. “No. We do not eat it.”

- Venom, unfortunately, did not like competition. Mr. Pickles demanded attention. Venom demanded you. The standoff began immediately. Eddie woke up to find Mr. Pickles asleep on his chest, while Venom loomed above him like a shadow, glowering.

- It only got worse when Mr. Pickles stole Eddie’s sandwich. Venom raged. “The creature has taken OUR food! We must retaliate!” Eddie sighed, watching as Mr. Pickles happily chewed on his stolen prize. “Yeah, buddy. I don’t think we’re winning this war.”

- When you returned, Eddie sat on the couch, Venom’s tendrils twitching in irritation, Mr. Pickles napping peacefully on his lap. You grinned. “Venom, did you make a friend?” Venom hissed. “He is an adversary.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “…Yeah. That means yes.”

T’Challa & Mr. Pickles

- T’Challa had fought in battles that shaped history, had led a nation, had outmaneuvered gods and kings. He had not, however, anticipated Mr. Pickles.

- Shuri was absolutely delighted. She took one look at the tiny, ridiculous dog and immediately declared, “He is my favorite guest.” T’Challa, arms crossed, simply said, “He is… something.”

- Mr. Pickles was determined to challenge every Wakandan security measure. Within an hour, he had gotten past two Dora Milaje, slipped into the royal chambers, and was found happily wagging his tail atop the Vibranium throne.

- Okoye was not amused. Shuri was entertained. T’Challa sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “This dog fears nothing.” Shuri smirked. “Much like someone else I know.”

- By the time you returned, Mr. Pickles was curled up beside T’Challa, who was absentmindedly scratching behind his ears. You crossed your arms. “So, do you love him?” T’Challa did not look up. “…I tolerate him.” Mr. Pickles licked his hand. “…Perhaps a little more than that.”

Elektra Natchios & Mr. Pickles

- Elektra had survived assassins, taken down empires, and danced in the dark with death itself. She was elegant, precise, a living weapon. Mr. Pickles, on the other hand, was a small, fluffy ball of pure idiocy.

- He immediately tried to steal one of her sais. She watched, unimpressed, as he grabbed the handle in his tiny jaws and attempted to run away. He tripped, rolled over, and barked at the ceiling in defiance. She had seen warriors with less determination.

- Despite her initial reluctance, she found herself watching him, observing. There was something admirable about his foolish bravery. His absolute lack of fear. The way he took up space despite his size.

- Eventually, he curled up next to her, snuggling against her side. Elektra, without thinking, ran her fingers through his soft fur. She had never had a pet before. She had never let herself want one. But this? This, she could allow.

- When you returned, Elektra simply looked at you, one hand still on Mr. Pickles’ back. You smirked. “So… you love him?” She arched a brow. “Love is a strong word.” Mr. Pickles snored softly against her. “…But perhaps, just this once, I can allow it.”

Victor von Doom & Mr. Pickles

- Doom did not babysit. Doom did not serve. Doom did not tolerate fools. And yet, here he was.

- He stared at Mr. Pickles. Mr. Pickles stared back, tail wagging. Doom narrowed his eyes. “You are beneath me.” Mr. Pickles barked happily. Doom scowled. “Cease.” Mr. Pickles barked again.

- The dog, completely oblivious to the concept of fear, followed Doom around Latveria. At some point, he clambered onto Doom’s throne, tail thumping against the armrest. The royal guards exchanged nervous glances. Doom exhaled slowly. “I despise this.”

- However, when a diplomat dared to insult Doom, Mr. Pickles yapped aggressively, standing protectively in front of him. Doom observed this. “Hmph. At least you recognize greatness.”

- When you returned, Doom crossed his arms. “Your creature is an idiot.” You smiled. “But did you like him?” Doom huffed. “Doom tolerates him. Nothing more.” Mr. Pickles jumped into his lap. Doom sighed. “…Fine. Perhaps a little more.”

Peter Quill & Mr. Pickles

- Peter Quill thought babysitting a tiny dog would be easier than babysitting Rocket. He was wrong.

- “Okay, little dude, let’s make this easy.” Mr. Pickles promptly stole one of his mixtapes. “HEY! That’s vintage!” A chase ensued across the Milano, Star-Lord versus a fluffy menace.

- Eventually, Peter gave up. Mr. Pickles sat triumphantly atop his pillow, the mixtape still in his mouth. Peter sighed. “You’re lucky I got a soft spot for troublemakers.”

- The dog, realizing he had won, curled up beside him. Peter smirked. “Alright, fine. You can stay.” Mr. Pickles snuggled closer. Peter grumbled. “…Don’t tell Rocket about this.”

- When you got back, you found them both asleep on the couch. You whispered, “So, how did it go?” Without opening his eyes, Peter muttered, “I think I just lost my ship to your dog.”

Nova & Mr. Pickles

- Richard Rider had fought space tyrants, cosmic gods, and existential threats. Mr. Pickles, somehow, was worse.

- Mr. Pickles had no concept of galactic law. Within minutes, he had tried to steal a Nova Corps helmet, chewed on an important report, and attempted to fight a very confused alien.

- Richard sighed, picking up the tiny menace. “Okay, dude. I don’t have time for intergalactic incidents. Work with me here.” Mr. Pickles licked his face. Richard groaned. “…I give up.”

- By the end of the day, the entire Nova Corps had begrudgingly accepted Mr. Pickles. Someone even made him a tiny Nova helmet. Richard just sighed. “I am never living this down.”

- When you returned, Richard handed Mr. Pickles to you. “Your dog is now an honorary Nova Corps member.” You laughed. “So, did you love him?” Richard huffed. “…He’s alright.” Mr. Pickles barked happily. “…Fine. Maybe a little more than alright.”

[arc-misadventures]

how would ruby successfully pull an 'i can fix him' with an evil jaune?

TTSL

Jaune: AH-HAHAHAHAHA?!! Burn in hell you bastards!

Yang: Well... Jaune's lost it...

Blake: He's practically destroying the place?!

Weiss: He hacked all of the, Atlasian robots from his scroll! His fucking scroll?!

Ruby: Ren can you use your semblance to calm him down?

Ren: I tried, but it didn't have any effect! He just turned to laugh at me, and said, 'The eye of the storm does not need to be calmed my friend~!"

Nora: Whoa... that's deep...

Ren: The toothy smile he gave me... I thought he was going to tear out my throat...?!

Blake: So what are we going to do?! This was a training simulation that was supposed to help us deal with, Cinder, and her evil plans! But, he's at least ten times scarier than her!

Nora: His evilness is off the charts?!

Weiss: You have an evil chart?!

Yang: How are we supposed to stop him! He is pure evil!

Ruby: Don't worry guys... I have a plan! I can fix him!

Nora: Let me guess... Through the power of friendship?

Ruby: ...

Ruby: Well, I wasn't going to say that...

Nora: Ruby! You can't, Steven Universe your way out of this shit!

Ruby: But, it worked for him! I can fix, Jaune through the power of friendship, and song~!

Yang: This isn't going to end well...

Blake: I'll get the medkit.

Ruby: Jaune!

Jaune: Ah-hahaha! Look everyone! It's the little rose~! Are you thorns sharpened for war my dear?

Ruby: ...

Ruby: Through the power of love, and our friendship~! We will...!?

~~~

Ruby: (Cough! Cough!)

Ruby: I thought that would work...

Yang: I can't believe he ordered an artillery strike on you for singing...

Ruby: I thought that would work...

Ren: Jaune, doesn't like musicals, and stories where everything is solved through the power of love, and music. He finds them annoying, and stupid.

Nora: I told you it was worthless.

Ruby: He doesn't like musicals talking about love, and the power of friendship...? He truly is a monster...

Weiss: Oh gods... Then how are we going to stop him?

: Haa... You children... You know nothing of love...

Yang: Wait, what?!

Weiss: When did you get here?!

: A while ago, now let me deal with, Mr. Arc. Unlike you, Ms. Rose, I can fix him, and I will have this done swiftly.

Nora: Good luck!

Jaune: Hahahaha! I have done it! The SDC has fallen! Now, Atlas will fall as well!

: Mr. Arc, a word?

Jaune: Huw? Ms. Goodwitch?!

~~~

Glynda: There, there... It's going to be alright...

Jaune: It's just... It's just been so hard... I have to keep it all together... A-And, no one seems to care about my problems, or even notice...

Glynda: Tell me about them, Jaune. Tell me all about your worries...

Jaune: It's just that... no one cares about me! It's always about, Ruby's problems... Oh, Ruby's sad because she saw, Pyrrha die... She was my partner, she was my friend... I loved her, but... all I got was a kiss goodbye... and, everyone cares about, Ruby, and what she's dealing with...

Glynda: Don't worry, Jaune. I'm here for you... tell me everything that's wrong, and we can deal with it together.

RWBYNR: ...

Weiss: What the fuck?!

Yang: I'm so confused... what's going on?

Ruby: The hell? I was going to sing about the power of love, and friendship, and he throws an artillery shell at my face?! She, just walks up to him, and tells him everything is going to be okay, and he just stops.

Ren: Woman think the male fantasy is something sexual. But, for most men, the male fantasy is to be held in a loving embrace, and to be told that everything was going to be okay. Considering everything, Jaune has been holding back, he needs this... He really needs this...

Nora: That, and Ruby's singing is atrocious.

Ruby: Excuse me?!

Weiss: I tried giving her lessons, but nothing stuck.

Ruby: HEY?!

[esamastation]

Some Reeve Tuesti centric FF7 fic ideas...

1. Reeve Tuesti is the reincarnation of Regis Lucis Caelum and he's been keeping a secret from everybody - well, two. His ability to imbue Kings Magic into things (like, say, toy robots) and his young son, born with all the powers of the King of Light.

1.1. Alternatively, Regis is the reincarnation of Reeve and as a young prince he pushes through a bunch of quality-of-life-improvement reforms for the Kingdom of Lucis (like, say, proper railroads country wide) and as result the Great War has a very different conclusion.

1.2 Reeve and Regis switch bodies.

2. Reeve does time travel (maybe with friends?) and his plan is simple; the moment President Shinra makes the decision to drop the Sector Seven Plate, Reeve shoots him dead - and his directors too, if he can. And for the want of a nail, everything begins changing.

3. Reeve starts having doubts about Shinra long before the fall of Sector Seven. He also starts plotting WRO around the same time. Part of his plans involves having as much information as possible and so he's filled Midgar with his spy robots - in the shape of stray cats. Through their eyes, he finds Cloud before anyone else does.

4. Reality hopping Desmond (and in maybe a sort of System form, Clay) trying to escape some Isu trying to hunt them down. They get stuck in the ffvii world, and need some help getting through to the next reality / or just settling down in ffvii, but no one is going to help them for free. Between Clay hacking the local info sphere and Desmond's Eagle Vision they decide to go the way of assassins of old - by killing the bad guys for the benefit of a wealthy patron. There's certainly no shortage of those around. Problem is finding the patron. Reeve Tuesti isn't wealthy, exactly… but he will be once they make him the president.

5. Post AC Cloud goes back in time to save the planet. He has a bunch of Reeve's and Cosmo Canyon's work with him and the plan is to steer tech in a different direction, hopefully (and maybe kill some people while Cloud's at it). In order to do this though, they need to work together and in order keep meeting without raising any alarm bells, they do pretend relationship. Aka, AC!Cloud as CC!Reeve's hot biker trophy boyfriend.

...

i have a hankering for this man, idk.. Also, there's only 9 Cloud/Reeve fics on ao3??

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

So someone made a FNAF joke about the new upcoming event so I was like wouldn't it be funny if it's revealed that the diner had two human-size animatronics of Chip and Dale that somehow malfunctioned and the NRC students get locked in the diner and they now have to survive two nights at Chip & Dale's. It would definitely give more reason as to why Lilia and Idia are there. Knowing Lilia he would go battle mode on the animatronics or Idia could use his hacking to fix or shut down the animatronics.

[ Referencing an event set for the JP July 2025 schedule! ]

I feel like everyone and their grandmas have been making FNAF jokes about the new C&D event 😭 I could definitely see Lilia going full war general mode and smiling/giggling as he drives like a kitchen knife or cleaver straight into a robot’s skull… Idia cowering in a corner and shrieking that it’s just like his horror games frfr (as he’s trying to hack onto the mainframe or whatever you’d call it)… It’s a funny idea, but the restaurant had no animatronics as far as we know. It’s just an old-fashioned American style diner!

Crowley explains in the event why the diner is in need of help and why these 4 students were picked!! According to the headmaster, the manager/owner of the newly opened Crisp and Dips Diner is a NRC graduate. The chipmunk-themed (themed after the story of 2 mischievous chipmunks) diner uses magic to prepare the food, and the name of the eatery comes from its signature menu item, crispy onion rings paired with a gravy-drenched burger that you dip into cheese sauce. They also sell nuggets and magic-infused items like a latte where the latte art moves (Ghost Latte), potatoes that change colors (Rainbow Potatoes), and pancakes with cream that sprout trees and a little house (Snow Globe/Dome Pancakes).

The manager and some employees have gotten into accidents recently and are recovering from those. There also appears to be strange things happening at the diner for about 2 weeks. Ingredients going missing, plates moving on their own, trash that should have been thrown away reappearing and falling where it shouldn’t, etc. I know this makes the diner seem haunted, but it’s actually the work of these two pesky squirrels who also appear in a new Twistune/Rhythmic causing trouble:)

Literally just Chip and Dale but as squirrels instead of chipmunks

Anyway, Crowley summons Cater, Azul, Lilia, and Idia to his office. He wants them to fill in for the injured staff because Cater knows diners + cafés well, Azul is familiar with management, Lilia is charming, and Idia would know how to deal with the diner’s machines/tech. Plus, they’re all capable of magic (which is necessary for the diner’s dishes)—and don’t they want to help out a NRC alumnus rather than leave it to RSA?

Crowley incidates that he has already been to the diner 5 times and enjoys their thick patties, so it seems like he has personal gain here. The diner has been temporarily closed for about a week by the time he summons the boys; he laments that he missed his lunch because he went there and found it closed. (The only other character of the cast that seems to have already been to the diner is Cater.)

Azul suggests that Crowley struck a deal with the manager to be paid a sizable sum if he can backfill the employee positions for 3 days. Crowley strongly denies this, but his flustered behavior doesn’t make anyone believe him 💦

The boys are incentivized to fill in because Crowley says they will be exempt from taking an exam for a subject of their choice. Idia, Azul, and Lilia all want to get out of P.E.! (Idia and Azul make sense; Lilia says the next unit is long distance running and he doesn’t want to be in the sun for a prolonged period of time.)

Cater is picked to be the acting manager because Crowley sensed his enthusiasm and liked it. (Surprisingly, Azul doesn’t argue or volunteer himself; Idia’s C&D Diner card has a voice line where he, too, expresses surprise over this.) He is the only character with skates in his new look because they’re a personal item he brought along. After all, “retro” is “in” right now! It’s a neat extension of Cater’s skateboarding skills.

Idia will be the line cook (so he can avoid dealing with customers). Azul will do support work like washing dishes, stocking + prepping ingredients, and managing the register. Lilia and Cater are going to be servers!

And in case you’re wondering!! Yuu and/or Grim aren’t working at the diner; they drop by a few times as customers. We shoot a video at the diner and this helps to attract more business. Cater says he can give us a free item from the menu as thanks ;3c

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: aro and ace sff, vibes edition

While I'm working on my canonical in-text-only aroace rec list, have this more vibes based edition! These are books which center platonic and/or hard to define relationships over romantic and/or sexual ones. Basically they are books that made me, a certified romance disliker, especially connect with the way they portrayed and prioritized non-romantic relationships, whether they're canonically aro/ace or not.

For more details on the books, check under the readmore! My personal favorites are marked with an *. For more rec lists, take a look at my masterpost!

Canonical aro and/or ace

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger

Young adult. Elatsoe's America is slightly different from the one we know. Magics and monsters both everyday and dangerous inhabit her world. Elatsoe herself can raise the ghosts of dead animals, a skill passed down through generations of her Lipan Apache family. When her cousin is murdered, Elatsoe decides to find out just what happened, even as his home town does everything it can to bury a truth older and larger than she could've imagined.

Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer*

Young adult. Nita isn’t a murderer - technically. She just dissects the bodies of supernatural beings her mother brings home and sells for parts on the black market. But when her mother brings home a still living victim, Nita has had enough and frees him. As it turns out, no good deed goes unpunished as Nita is betrayed, her own nature as a supernatural entity outed as she’s kidnapped and placed behind bars. Now she must find a way to escape before she’s sold for parts.

Winter Tide by Ruthanna Emrys*

Aphra and her brother are the only survivors after the government raided their home, Innsmouth. Their only living family are the amphibian people of the deep, whom they will one day join, but until then they are bound to land where they struggle to build new lives for themselves after the great loss of their home and loved ones. Then rumors start to spread of a Russian agent seeking dangerous and ancient magic, forcing Aphra to involve herself as they try to stop it.

All Systems Red by Martha Wells*

After having hacked its own governor module, SecUnit uses its small amount of new freedom to secretly download and watch as much media as it can between doing its job guarding humans. But when the scientists it’s been charged with keeping safe come under attack, it must make a choice about whether to continue keeping its freedom secret or risk it all to save them. I leave up to individual judgment whether SecUnit counts as agender, asexual and aromantic, as it is a robot.

The Angel of the Crows by Katherine Addison*

Sherlock Holmes retelling. After having been injured fighting a war against fallen angels, Doyle returns to London to survive on only a veteran’s pension. To afford a place to live in the city, Doyle finds a housemate in Crow, an eccentric angel with a great curiosity for humans and a knack for solving crime. And London needs its protector - supernatural beings walk the streets, and someone going by the name Jack the Ripper terrifies the citizens at night.

Vicious by V.E. Schwab

While studying near-death experiences as college roommates, Victor and Eli discovered something incredible: under the right circumstances, someone can develop seemingly supernatural abilities. When they moved their research to the experimental stage, things went horribly wrong. Ten years later, Victor has broken out of jail and sets out to hunt his former friend, who is on a mission to eradicate all other superpowered people in existence.

Word of god aro and/or ace

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

Young adult fantasy. Artemisia prefers the dead to the living, and is training to become a Gray Sister, a nun who helps the souls of the deceased pass on to the afterlife rather than remain as dangerous spirits. To defend her convent, Artemisia accepts the help of a dangerous revenant, a powerful spirit which grants her great power but also could possess her the moment her guard is lowered. As evil threatens her homeland, Artemisia and the revenant must find a way to work together.

Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace

Wasp is the chosen Archivist in a post-apocalyptic world haunted by the dead. Her job is to hunt the ghosts that still linger, a dangerous and lonely position where she every year is made to fight others to not be replaced. When she meets the ghost of a super soldier, Wasp strikes a deal with him to help him find a long lost friend in exchange for learning more about the world that once was.

The Spider and her Demons by sydney khoo*

Young adult fantasy. All teenager Zhi wants is a normal life (and possibly for her harsh aunt to be a bit nicer), but it’s hard when she’s half spider demon. Every day she must conceal her true nature and hide in human guise. When she slips up and eats a man in front of her rich, aloof classmate Dior, Zhi thinks her life is over. But Dior has secrets of her own, and she is dead set on making herself part of Zhi’s life.

Not canonically aro and/or ace but have The Vibes

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O'Neal*

Priya had plans to go to Stanford, but is derailed by the fallout of lyme disease, making her question if she’ll ever get back to normal. Luckily she has her discord support group with whom she can chat and vent about her illness. Even more - she has Brigid, online fandom friend and fellow chronic illness sufferer. But when Brigid disappears from the web without warning, Priya must drive to Pennsylvania to make sure her friend is okay - and finds that Brigid’s condition is a bit hairier than expected.

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir*

Ryland Grace just woke up from a coma, unable to remember anything. He finds himself alone on a space ship, and as his memories slowly trickle back, he realizes he’s been sent on a mission: to find a solution to the impending doom of planet earth. Still struggling with holes in his memories, Ryland tries to fulfill his mission, but as he gets closer to his goal, he discovers someone else got there first. And they aren’t anything close to human. Funny, heartfelt, and heavy on the science.

Malevolent by Harlan Guthrie*

Lovecraftian horror mystery. Private detective Arthur Lester wakes up in his office, his partner dead, memories fuzzy, vision gone, and the voice of a malevolent entity in his mind. Unable to see, Arthur is forced to rely on guidance from the entity as they attempt to solve the mystery of what it is and where it came from. Is this a book? No. But as someone who reads mostly audiobooks, the difference between a book and a fiction podcast is negligible, and also I love this story and its characters and want all of you to do so too.

The Girl from the Well by Rin Chupeco

Young adult horror. Okiku died three hundred years ago, her body thrown down a well. Now she spends her days hunting for and punishing murderers like the one who once killed her. When a strange boy bearing odd tattoos appears in her area, he catches Okiku’s attention - as does something that follows after him. To save the boy, Okiku will be drawn into a journey taking both of them from American suburbia to a faraway shrine in Japan.

Radiant by Karina Sumner-Smith*

In a world where magic is currency, Xhea, wholly devoid of magic, is the lowest of the low. She does have one special ability, though: she can see ghosts. This ability proves useful when she meets Shai, the ghost of a girl from the higher echelons of society who isn't actually dead yet. Her body stolen and her ghost on the run, Shai needs Xhea's help.

A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers*

Technically part two of a series, but stands well on its own as the installments are only loosely connected (though I recommend reading the first book as well, it’s very good). A former ship’s AI recently moved into an illegal android body tries to make sense of life as she navigates her way through humans and aliens alike, paralleled with the story of a young girl working alongside and AI to flee a dystopian planet.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

Novella. Long ago, robots, upon gaining sentience, simply laid down their work and walked into the wilderness. Long after, a tea monk looking for purpose follows after them into the wilds, where they come across one of the robots seeking its own sort of answers. While not plotless, this story focuses more on character and vibes over plot. Also has a nonbinary main character and features conversations on gender between human and robot.

Zero Sum Game by S.L. Huang*

Cas Russel is more than just good at math - she can calculate accurately and quickly enough to dodge bullets and fight those twice her size with ease. She thought she was the only one with an ability like this, until she discovers someone with a power even more dangerous than hers, able to reach into and twist the minds of others. Suddenly too involved to simply run away, Cas must not only save the day, but do so while she can't trust her own thoughts.

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy*

Young adult. Twelve-year-old Stephanie Edgley’s uncle, famed horror writer, just died mysteriously and left her his entire fortune. As it turns out, the stories he wrote weren’t entirely made up, and that which killed him wasn’t entirely human. In trying to avenge his death, Stephanie joins forces with Skulduggery Pleasant, sorcerer, detective, and living, walking skeleton. Including this one is kinda cheating because (part of) the series has romance, but the central relationship is always the codependent nonsense (affectionate) between the lead and her mentor/detective partner.

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb*

The angel Uriel and the demon Little Ash have been friends for centuries, living and studying together in a small Jewish community in Europe. But times are changing, and many of the community have left for a new life across the sea. When one of these emigrants go missing, Uriel and Little Ash decide to leave their peaceful life to go find and, if needed, save her.

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie

A space opera in which sentient spaceships can walk the ground in stolen human bodies, so called ancillaries. One of these ancillaries, the sole survivor after the complete destruction of her ship and crew, is one the hunt for revenge against the most powerful woman in the empire. This series also does very cool things with gender!

Translation State by Ann Leckie*

An exploration of the alien as filtered through the human. At what point does the human become something else? When does something else become human? Is it a question of biology or culture, nature or nurture? Can we choose it? Can it be forced upon us? Set in the Imperial Radch universe, Translation State follows three different characters embroiled in the question of what makes a human. The alien Presger can only communicate with humans using their translators - people they’ve created that are not quite human and not quite alien. But as news of a translator fugitive arises, conflict brews regarding what right they have to choose their own identity and home.

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

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DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“😗”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

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[spa-ghett0]

I once read a oneshot about Sonic finding out that the Resistance didn't keep close contact with Tails during the War, and it was really good, but I feel Sonic wasn't as angry as he should've been. So here's my two cents written from the outsider perspective of the Rookie character.

(This might soon become a whole story, but for now, this is it)

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

After six months of the world mourning Sonic the Hedgehog, the Resistance has finally brought him home.

Not to brag, but I was the one to bust him out. Well, kind of. Other members of the team hacked into the Death Egg’s security system and freed Sonic from his chains. Then, Sonic fought the leader of the Deadly Six (not sure who they are, exactly; fingers crossed we don’t run into them) and during his escape, he found me courageously fighting a few badniks all by myself. He gave me a hand, not that I needed it. From there, I called Knuckles the Echidna, mission leader, on my wrist communicator and led Sonic to freedom.

So it was a team effort, but I was the first person in the world to see Sonic the Hedgehog alive. 

Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I’d find inside the Death Egg. Everyone seemed convinced that Sonic was killed in battle. Even the leaders of the Resistance, supposedly his closest friends. The only person who firmly disbelieved this was a kid named Tails, but he left the HQ long before I showed up. I’ve heard bits and pieces about him, but for the most part, he’s an Off-Limits Topic. Though I know to mind my own business, I always wondered how a little kid could be so important to a cause like this.

In the next room, something slams against the table. “Stop stalling, Knuckles!” Sonic the Hedgehog hisses. “Tell me where he is.”

Knuckles sighs. “He’s probably at his workshop—”

“Probably? You don’t know?”

“I’ve been a little busy, if you hadn’t noticed,” Knuckle snaps.

“Busy.” Sonic scoffs. “That’s not an excuse.”

“We tried to make him stay, but he wanted to leave.”

“I don’t care that he isn’t here. I care that you don’t know where he is! He could be hurt, or worse.”

“Don’t think like that.”

“How can I not? I’ve been locked up for six months, the world has gone to shit, and my little brother is in the middle of it—alone!”

A chill jolts through me. Little brother?

“How long has he been gone?”

Silence.

“I’m losing my patience here, Knux,” Sonic growls.

“Four months.”

More silence. It stretches long enough for me to contemplate glancing inside, just to make sure they’re both still breathing.

Then a blue blur races past me. I don’t have a chance to move before he knocks me into the wall. Once I find my footing, I run after him.

The front door hits something hard when I push it open. Metal scrapes under my feet. Confused, I step over the mess and continue into the street. I don’t see Sonic, but he definitely came out here.

The entire street before me is littered with carnage. Badniks torn in half. Blue and red wires strung out like entrails. Smoke billowing from piles of robots who still twitch and spark, as if they’re in pain. At the center of it all, I finally spot him: the great and legendary Sonic the Hedgehog rips the power source out of a badnik’s chest and crushes it in his hand.

I can’t move. In minutes—seconds, maybe—he did what it takes a squad of Resistance soldiers to accomplish in hours.

Tossing the badnik to the ground, Sonic finally spots me. My stomach turns. I know he’s the One Who Saves the World, the Good Guy, the Hero… But right now, I wonder if it’d be safer to retreat and stay out of his way.

I’ve been locked up for six months, the world has gone to shit, and my little brother is in the middle of it—alone!

“Hey, you’re the one who rescued me from the Death Egg,” Sonic says as he approaches. His sudden calm demeanor is startling.

“Uh y-yeah, that’s me,” I stammer.

“I never thanked you for that. Knuckles said you’re new to the Resistance?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. With more people fighting back, we’ll take back our planet in no time.”

“With you here, we should be able to take him down tomorrow.” I try to laugh as I glance around at the wreckage, but it comes out shaky and awkward.

Sonic’s smile is sharp and not quite friendly. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’ll be a bit longer than that. I’ve got something to take care of, first.”

I nod. “Right. You wanna find your brother.”

Green eyes cut to me. Immediately, I regret everything. 

“Thought I felt someone listening in there,” he mutters.

“I–I wasn’t eavesdropping. I mean, I didn’t mean to—” I wince. “Sorry. I’ve just heard a lot about Tails in the last month, and I… I didn’t know he’s your brother.” 

“That seems to have slipped everyone’s minds.”

“I can help you find him, if you want.”

Sonic snorts. “Thanks, but I think it’d be better if you stay here.”

“Remember when I saved you from the Death Egg while still being new to the Resistance?”

“Remember how scared you were when you stepped outside a minute ago?”

I bristle. “I wasn’t—”

The knowing look he gives me snaps my mouth shut.

“I was just surprised.”

“Right. Surprised that the Hero could be so violent?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Sonic observes his destruction. “Gotta be honest here, I’m not ready to jump back in and save the day. Don’t get me wrong, Eggman’s reign of terror will be ending very soon. That’s a promise. But the only thing I care about right now is finding Tails. So if you’re expecting the Hero, you'll have to wait.”

I frown. Who is Sonic the Hedgehog if not the Hero?

Against my better judgement, I realize I want to find out.

“Well… I kinda wanna meet this infamous Tails.”

He smirks. “He’s definitely worth the trip.”

“Then, what are we waiting for? Any idea where he might be?”

Sonic eyes me. Then his smirk softs into a smile, and he leads the way to Tails’s workshop. I fall into step beside him, trying to ignore the scrape of metal at our feet.

[fear-is-truth]

What is a random headcanons you have of Kai? Like the type of headcanons that would make him seem really human and not like he's constantly a murderer or psychopathic.

KAI ANDERSON // headcanons

a/n: here goes.. but i fear he’s just as fucked up bc i was trying to be realistic ya know

judges people by their handshakes. a weak grip disgusts him, and he’ll never respect someone with gross clammy hands.

watches old footage of leaders like hitler, stalin, or jfk to study their body language, hand movements. kai practices in front of a mirror until it feels natural. every gesture he makes while speaking is rehearsed. the way he waves his hands, points, or clenches his fists is meant to manipulate emotions.

practices subtle gestures (touching someone’s shoulder, making intense eye contact) to make people subconsciously trust him.

enjoys watching true crime documentaries and infodumps about jonestown or heaven’s gate.

remembers oddly specific details about people but weaponises them later in arguments.

thrives on debates, especially when he can dominate someone intellectually. he’ll derail conversations just to win, even if it’s about the dumbest shit like the best way to eat a subway sandwich.

has entire passages of nietzsche and shakespeare memorized, knows random latin phrases and sprinkles them into conversations to seem cultured.

hates losing at anything—he’ll rage quit a game of monopoly if it’s not going his way.

when fixated on something—a person, an idea, or a goal—he becomes consumed by it. spends hours researching or strategising, often at the expense of his health.

has casually invested in bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies. checks his coinbase and binance accounts obsessively. has strong opinions about dogecoin being a joke.

occasionally reads self-help books.

his library consists mostly of power-centric books. his favourites include the prince by machiavelli, the 48 laws of power by robert greene, the art of war by sun tzu, and nietzsche’s thus spoke zarathustra. also delves into russian literature like dostoevsky’s notes from underground and tolstoy’s war and peace.

collects super offensive internet memes in a private folder. posts pepe memes on 4chan ironically but secretly thinks they’re funny.

leaves people on read for hours, just because.

desensitised himself to gore.

loves gta, rdr2 and civilization VI. played cod religiously in his incel days.

follows elon musk on x (formerly known as twitter) and admires him as a disruptor of society. or maybe it’s a tech bro thing idk. retweets his memes but also calls him a sellout for pandering to the masses.

loathes andrew tate for his shallow and illogical takes but agrees with 10% of his misogynistic rhetoric.

posts inflammatory tweets that toe the line between radicalism and satire, carefully wording them to avoid getting banned.

an avid user of letterboxd. some of his reviews are super scathing—but for some reason, they always blow up. he’d open the app to find that his hate review on la la land got 7.2k likes. screenshot compilations circulate on reddit and instagram.

his letterboxd favourites are: american psycho, fight club, the social network and the matrix (all 5 star ratings)—but claims he likes them for their philosophical depth.

his favourite show is mr. robot, saying elliot alderson is “the closest thing to a genius on tv.” he also likes the twilight zone and breaking bad.

obsessed with eminem—he’s been a fan ever since d-12. the marshall mathers lp are his go-to rage anthems. thinks lose yourself is the pinnacle of motivational music.

thinks kanye west is a misunderstood genius and frequently defends him online.

uses dark mode on every device.

apple loyalist. owns a macbook, iphone, and airpods because he appreciates their sleek and minimalistic design. calls android users “peasants.”

never charges his phone until it has like 2% left.

brilliant with tech—can hack into nearly anything. knows how to code in several languages, always staying on top of the latest tech trends and occasionally contributes to dark web forums.

builds custom pcs for fun. dabbles in coding and hacking. knows how to create computer viruses.

used to spend wayyy too much time on forums like 4chan, r/RedPill, r/foreveralone and r/incels, though he’s mostly active on subreddits like r/iamverybadass, and r/unpopularopinion. also lurks r/atheism just to mock people with religion.

frequently visits r/AmITheAsshole to judge people, always siding with the “bad guy.” bro has the potential to be a criminal defense lawyer that the DA despises.

lowkey obsessed with angelina jolie, specifically from her tomb raider days. probably has a pinup poster stashed somewhere in his room.

uses arctic fox’s poseidon blue hair dye.

firmly believes in the efficiency of 3-in-1 body wash, shampoo, and conditioner.

wears dior sauvage because it’s “masculine but sophisticated.” probably bought it after seeing johnny depp in an ad.

when he’s in a mood, kai loves sneaking up on people to startle them. he’s perfected the art of standing silently in doorways until someone notices.

prefers dogs because they’re trainable, loyal, and trusting on their owner. in other words they are easy to manipulate and control.

constantly rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. it’s both a habit and a way to intimidate people.

his lust for power stems from feeling powerless in his youth, particularly after witnessing his father’s abuse to his mother and the lack of control he had over the situation.

struggles to process complex emotions like guilt, shame, or empathy. often suppresses them or redirects them into rage.

swings between grandiosity (believing he’s destined for greatness) and crippling self-doubt (thinking he’s fundamentally unlovable)

finds it almost impossible to open up emotionally unless it’s to manipulate someone.

criticism, even minor, eats away at him. he’ll stew over it for days, replaying it in his head while devising ways to “prove them wrong.”

gets uneasy if someone expresses affection without clear reason—suspects ulterior motives.

goes online to stalk whoever winter’s dating at the time. sends cryptic, vaguely threatening texts from a burner number or straight up dox them. half of it is for shits and giggles, the other half is rooted in jealousy.

he’s attracted to girls who are intelligent and opinionated. independent but emotionally vulnerable, so he can swoop in and “save” them (he has a saviour complex). loyalty is non-negotiable, and she has to make him feel like her top priority.

anyone resembling winter is immediately his type, but he’d never admit it.

freakishly good at darts and chess.

knows how to pick locks and also, how to build a perfect pipe bomb.

his clown mask is inspired by satan in dante’s divine comedy (based on this convo with @porcelainlipgloss)

alternates between ice-cold showers and scalding hot ones depending on his mood.

drums his fingers or shakes his leg while sitting. can spin a pen around his fingers like a pro. learned it during boring college lectures and now does it absentmindedly.

can’t stand slow walkers, or when someone scrapes a fork on their teeth. his reactions to these are disproportionate and borderline hostile.

prone to road rage.

has read elliot rodger’s manifesto once, mostly out of curiosity and boredom, but ended up getting weirdly immersed in it. he disagreed with the bravado and entitlement, though—he finds it pathetic and would mock it, but still, he couldn’t put it down. deep down, he understands the mindset too well, which makes him uncomfortable.

selectively polite. says “please” and “thank you” when it benefits him but will completely ignore social etiquette in other situations, like cutting lines or taking the last slice of pizza.

his workout playlist consists of nine inch nails, rammstein. aggressive rap like eminem (“till i collapse” is a staple) and dmx. sometimes mixes in orchestral movie scores (the dark knight rises soundtrack pumps him up)

brushes his teeth aggressively, so his toothbrushes always wear out quickly.

loves gas station beef jerky and bags of plain popcorn with way too much salt.

doesn’t drink often, claiming alcohol dulls the mind. but when he does, it’s always something hardcore like everclear or absinthe. has a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance.

can literally live off black coffee or monster zero ultra (white can). claims he doesn’t need caffeine, but drinks it constantly because he “likes the bitterness.”

his handwriting is pretty neat, but only when he’s focused—otherwise, it’s chicken scratch.

loves the smell of gasoline and sharpies.

can’t sit his ass down during phone conversations—kai paces back and forth like a caged animal.

rarely gets more than four hours of sleep.

and when he does sleep, he sleeps on his stomach with one arm dangling off the bed.

sleep talks under extreme stress.

secretly likes it when someone takes care of him. whether it’s bandaging a cut or insisting he eats when he’s been working too hard, he fucking melts. he’ll complain about being babied, but it’s a front.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: What must be done

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) (meeting screens fizzle on one by one)

High Commander: Thank you all for attending this alliance conference.

High Commander: I know many of you are scattered across the quadrant, so this conference will have to do for now.

Volgond: Is it not unwise to meet over a transmitted conference?

Vologond: Our enemies could hack into the signal and gain a tactical advantage from our discussions.

Primary C: (In robotic voice) This outcome is unlikely.

Primary C: My people are encrypting the signal with an ever morphing signal frequency that not even our enemies most advanced machines could detect.

Primary C: Only a Cythogen can detect and translate the signal for it to be understandable.

High Commander: To which we are grateful you have contributed your people’s talents to the war effort.

Vologond: (Grumbles) I would still insist our next meeting be in person.

High Commander: Noted.

High Commander: We shall begin with updates along the northern front with Sun Bearer Arthrix.

Sun Bearer Arthrix: We’ve made great strides in recent months in the Hepestus cluster. Three systems have fallen to our forces there but our supply lines now are dangerously spread thin. Our enemies have taken note of this and begun raiding our supply convoys with ever increasing ferocity stalling our campaign.

High Commander: I will dispatch the 4th and 5th reserve fleets to begin escort duties which should alleviate the pressure. In the meantime consolidate the new territories you have captured until you are ready for continued operations.

Sun Bearer Arthrix: It will be done.

High Commander:  Now (flips through some pages) for the ongoing battle for Merina, have you made any progress General Anthony?

General Anthony: The world now rests entirely within alliance hands.

(Several gasps and looks of surprise among the gathered alien commanders)

High Commander: You can confirm this?

General Anthony: Aside from the occasional squad or two of enemy forces that escaped the final battle all major installations and population centers are under terrain control. The previously mentioned scattered survivors are being hunted down now.

Taskmaster Folgar: I find this unbelievable.

General Anthony: Careful now, I may take that as an insult.

Taskmaster Folgar: It took me over a year to establish a beachhead on that planet and my forces were nearly wiped out by the automated defense systems employed. Yet you come along and relieve me of my command and suddenly the planet falls within a month?

(murmurs of commanders heard over the background)

High Commander: While it begrudges me to ask this, can you present proof of the conquest?

General Anthony: (says nothing as screen changes to live feed from Merina)

(The feed shows Terran soldiers patrolling through the shattered remnants of once proud cities that had been protected by advanced sky energy domes that blocked orbital fire and walls lined with powerful automated plasma cannons that annihilated enemies from several miles away

Walls of the fortress cities were cracked wide open and shattered in many places. Many of the fierce automated guns now lay broken and battered on the ground and the ones that still were atop the battlements were being dismantled by terrain engineers to send back to their R&D departments)

General Anthony: Our enemies became complacent while they hid behind their walls; so assured of their durability that once they were breached they lacked the ability to mount a suitable defense.

Primary C: How did you breach the walls?

Taskmaster Folgar: I wish to know this as well.

General Anthony: It was rather simple really.

General Anthony: While observing the enemy we noticed that the automated guns would not fire on an area if they detected one of their own within to projected blast radius.

Primary C: No doubt a safety feature built into the weapons targeting parameters to prevent friendly fire incidents.

General Anthony: (Nods) That is what we figured as well.

General Anthony: So over the course of a month we captured as many enemy soldiers as we could-

Taskmaster Folgar: (Scoffs) We tried interrogating them before and they gave up no useful information.

General Anthony: (Glares at the taskmaster before continuing)- and loaded them on to trucks packed with explosives.

High Commander: You did what?

General Anthony: We then remotely controlled those same trucks to drive directly into the base of the wall segments our engineers determined that if damaged would trigger a structural collapse of the entire-

High Commander: YOU DID WHAT?!

General Anthony: These interruptions are quite tiresome now.

Taskmaster Folgar: Do you have any idea the violations of war you have committed?

High Commander: You will be stripped of your rank for such actions!

General Anthony: And what of you then, High Commander?

High Commander: Me?

General Anthony: When you gave me the order to relieve the Taskmaster you told me that you wanted Merina captured by any means necessary.

General Anthony: (Emphasizing) “By any means necessary”.

General Anthony: I followed your orders to the letter and captured the world; so it is you yourself that has ordered any such violations.

High Commander: Do not think you can twist my words to get yourself out of-

General Anthony: (cuts in) Primary C, would you not state that my actions were the most efficient method to bring about the end of a costly conflict?

Primary C: (Silent as it calculates) 

Primary C: While removing the organic factor of “honor” and “morality”, I compute that your actions did resolve the matter of Merina without further losses to manpower and resources.

General Anthony: And taskmaster, dear taskmaster; when you spent over a year attempting to crack the planets defenses how many of your men did you lose?

Taskmaster Folgar: That is not the-

General Anthony: How. Many?

Taskmaster Folgar: (Remains silent)

General Anthony: That is what I thought.

General Anthony: (Turns to address High Commander) You cannot give me an order and ask it be completed by any means necessary and not expect me to follow your instructions to the letter.

High Commander: Do you not have a soul?

High Commander: Do you feel nothing for those you sent to their deaths?

General Anthony: Such is the nature of all those who hold positions of power.

General Anthony: But if you must know I was the one who escorted the prisoners to the trucks myself, and they were quite enthusiastic about it.

High Commander: What?

General Anthony: Yes. I told them that they were going home and they hopped right in.

[espanolbot2]

LOVE DEATH + ROBOTS VOLUME 4 | Official Trailer

And here's the episode list...

CAN’T STOP: A unique take on the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ legendary 2003 performance at Slane Castle, Ireland, with band members Anthony Kiedis, Flea, Chad Smith, and John Frusciante recreated as string-puppets. Directed by David Fincher, who originally made his name with music videos in the 1980s and early ’90s, before segueing into unforgettable feature films.

Director: David Fincher

Music, Lyrics, & Performance: Red Hot Chili Peppers

Animation Studio: Blur Studio.

Voice Cast: Anthony Kiedis, Flea, John Frusciante, Chad Smith

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE MINI KIND: Tiny terror is unleashed in this mini alien apocalypse as directors Robert Bisi and Andy Lyon pay loving tribute to classic sci-fi stories of alien invasion and human stupidity using tilt-shift techniques that make the end of the world look almost cute.

Director: Robert Bisi & Andy Lyon

Writer: Robert Bisi & Andy Lyon

Animation Studio: BUCK

SPIDER ROSE: A return to the fantastic cyberpunk universe of “Swarm” (Vol. 3), created by visionary sci-fi author Bruce Sterling and directed by Jennifer Yuh Nelson. On a remote asteroid mining operation, a grieving Mechanist gets a new companion and has a chance to avenge herself against the Shaper assassin who killed her husband.

Director: Jennifer Yuh Nelson

Writer: Joe Abercrombie, based on the short story by Bruce Sterling

Animation Studio: Blur Studio

Voice Cast: Emily O’Brien, Feodor Chin, Piotr Michael & Sumalee Montano

400 BOYS: In a post-apocalyptic city where warring gangs follow a bushido-like code of honor, a new gang, the 400 Boys, forces them to unite. A blend of beauty and brutality from Canadian director Robert Valley, whose LDR episode “Ice” won the Emmy for Outstanding Short Form Animation.

Director: Robert Valley

Writer: Tim Miller, based on the short story by Marc Laidlaw

Animation Studio: Passion Animation, a Division of Passion Pictures

Voice Cast: John Boyega, Ed Skrein, Sienna King, Dwane Walcott, Rahul Kohli, Pamela Nomvete & Amar Chadha-Patel

THE OTHER LARGE THING: From the mind of prolific writer John Scalzi comes the story of a cat who plans world domination. Sanchez, as his puny human “pets” know him, is helped by a new robotic butler (voiced by Last Week Tonight host John Oliver) who can hack into the World Wide Web and is eager to help his new master.

Director: Patrick Osborne

Writer: John Scalzi

Animation Studio: AGBO

Voice Cast: Chris Parnell, John Oliver, Fred Tatasciore & Rachel Kimsey

GOLGOTHA: In a rare live-action entry in Love, Death + Robots, a conscientious vicar – played by Rhys Darby, (What We Do In The Shadows) – plays host to an emissary of an alien race who believes their messiah has been reborn on earth… as a dolphin. So, uh… yeah, Dolphin-Jesus. Directed by Tim Miller.

Director: Tim Miller

Writer: Joe Abercrombie, based on the short story by Dave Hutchinson

Animation Studio: Luma Pictures (VFX)

Voice Cast: Rhys Darby, Moe Daniels, Graham McTavish, Phil Morris, Michelle Lukes & Matthew Waterson

THE SCREAMING OF THE TYRANNOSAUR: On a space station orbiting Jupiter, decadent aristocrats gather to witness a brutal contest of genetically modified gladiators — fierce combatants riding deadly, engineered dinosaurs. A tale of visceral violence and unlikely emotion, directed by Tim Miller, based on a short story by Stant Litore.

Director: Tim Miller

Writer: Tim Miller, based on the short story by Stant Litore

Animation Studio: Blur Studio

Voice Cast: MrBeast & Bai Ling

HOW ZEKE GOT RELIGION: B-17 Flying Fortress Liberty Belle has the oddest mission of World War Two: a journey into occupied France to bomb a church before the Nazis can raise an ancient evil. John McNichol’s short story of blood, fallen archangels, occult magic, and ultraviolence is directed by Diego Porral (lead animator on previous LDR classic “Kill Team Kill”).

Director: Diego Porral

Writer: J.T. Petty, based on the short story by John McNichol

Animation Studio: Titmouse

Voice Cast: Keston John, Braden Lynch, Roger Craig Smith, Gary Furlong, Bruce Thomas, Andrew Morgado & Scott Whyte

SMART APPLIANCES, STUPID OWNERS: From an angry toothbrush to an overworked smart showerhead and an intelligent toilet, various household appliances divulge tales of bemusement, scorn, and wonder about their human owners. Directed by Patrick Osborne, of Vol. 3 favorite “Three Robots: Exit Strategies.”

Director: Patrick Osborne

Writer: John Scalzi

Animation Studio: Aaron Sims Creative

Voice Cast: Melissa Villaseñor, Ronny Chieng, Amy Sedaris, Kevin Hart, Josh Brener, Nat Faxon, Niecy Nash-Betts & Brett Goldstein

FOR HE CAN CREEP: London, 1757. A poet confined to an insane asylum believes Satan wants him to write a verse that will end the world. And the only thing standing between him and the Prince of Darkness (voiced by Dan Stevens) is his cat, Jeoffry. Emily Dean directs this wildly inventive period adaptation of Siobhan Carroll’s short story.

Director: Emily Dean

Writer: Tamsyn Muir, based on the short story by Siobhan Carroll

Animation Studio: Polygon Pictures Inc.

Voice Cast: Dan Stevens, JB Blanc, Jim Broadbent, Nika Futterman, Jane Leeves & Dave B. Mitchell

[brucewaynehater101]

About the war in Tim ruler of worlds au.

What if they used robots?

There wouldn’t be a need of putting citizens in danger, and would be easy to command.

Especially if we’re taking inspiration from StarWars, in episode 1(2,3?) the empire uses robots to fight the Jedi.

C4 could have something similar to those but more advanced and smart.

But then there’s the ‘Can they be hacked?’ problem.

If they can be hacked ‘Would it be a big problem?’ Which I think it’s going to depend on if they are controlled from a certain location or if they are independently programmed.

(English is not my first language so sorry for any grammar mistakes.)

Been a bit, so let me do a quick summary:

Tim accidentally becomes the ruler of a bunch of planets that love and adore his leadership. He does this with YJ's support. A previous ask pondered about war and how this might affect Tim (especially as a "no kill" Bat).

Hmm... Robots, eh? Let's chat about feasibility ^^

I personally think Tim would have a similar mindset about war as I do: "It should only be used as a last resort to protect/defend/save people and their rights (particulary their rights to live, eat, shelter, and self-autonomy)."

Therefore, I find it unlikely that the group Tim goes to war against has the ability and/or is willing to engage in completely robot warfare. On the other hand, Tim would have no issues with sending in robots instead of his own people.

There is also the option for robot fighting to be used as a form of negotiation. For instance, Tim and the unnamed opposing nation both want a newly discovered and unclaimed resource. Compromise isn't working, so they bet their robots' capabilities instead (kind of imaging Real Steel for what the fights look like).

As far as hacking, it depends on the scenario. On a battlefield, it's a legit form of offense. Basically, if your robots get hacked, then that's your loss for not preparing adequately against it. In a match, it depends on the rules of engagement.

The only issues with hacking that I can see are if the enemy hacks the robots to then use them to murder people. Be a bit of a yikes there.

Now, a separate issue would be sentience in robots. We got Red Tornado and other forms of sentient technology in DC. Obviously, robots with sentience dying would defeat the purpose of using robots in the first place.

Hmmm.... Could be an interesting plot point where Bart and Tim are creating robots for their robot army, accidentally create artificial intelligence, and thus have to figure out with Kon and Cassie how to write android rights into their law.