#Robotic Case Packing Machine

[reiding-writing]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭.

a case involving female students being murdered in their dormitories brings the team to stanford university. You have more of a connection to it than you originally realise.

s8!cold!reader ❅ 8.4k ❅ series masterlist. ❅ main masterlist.

CW | typical criminal minds violence, violence against women, detail of murder and injury, abuse of power, student-professor relationships, miscarriage and abortion, character death, manipulation, cynicism

“Three women, all doctorate students of Stanford University, have all been killed inside their dorm rooms in the last two weeks,” There’s a click of a button, and then three images flash up on the screen, headshots of the girls. “All three were found with their stomachs cut open and their reproductive organs removed,”

What a lovely way to start a Monday morning.

“So much for the best University in California,” Morgan nudges your arm with his elbow, and your roll your eyes.

“What was the medical knowledge of the unsub?”

“You tell me,” JJ clicks another button on her remote, and the smiling photos of the victims are replaced with their crime scene photos.

Hands and feet tied to their beds, a large incision at the pelvic bone that had been stretched open to leave the internal organs bare, and the uterus cut out of the body. The surface knowledge was there, but the execution was not. Messy lines and uneven incisions that left the gap left in the victims more blood and tissue than actual hole.

“So we’re not looking for a professional then,” Morgan points out the obvious with a cross of his arms, leaning back in his chair.

“They clearly know something about it though,” Spencer leans forward as Morgan leans back, squinting his eyes like it’s going to make the images clearer. “There’s several different ways to perform a hysterectomy, but for a complete hysterectomy like our unsub is doing, the most common method is to start with an incision just above the pelvic bone,”

We’ll discuss the details of hysterectomies whilst we’re on the plane,” Hotch taps both of his hands on the table as he stands. “Gather your things, wheels up in thirty,”

There’s a chorus of “Yes Sir,”s as you all follow him out of the conference room to return to your respective desks and gather your belongings for the flight, an air of fatigue still surrounding the group even through the graphic imagery you were presented with.

“Going back to your alma mater, how do you feel?” Morgan clasps his right hand into a fist and holds it out to you like an invisible microphone.

You push it away without much thought as you pack your laptop into your bag, rolling your eyes at him for what feels like the tenth time since you’d walked through the door an hour ago. “It’s been almost— no, it has been ten years since I graduated, what’s there to ‘feel’?”

“Okay robot face, damn, no lingering love for the College that gave you your career?” Morgan’s taunt is laced with that familiar air of light-heartedness that’s there to remind you that he really is just poking fun, but you’ve never been very receptive to his humour.

“No.”

He lets out a sharp laugh in a mix of amusement and surprise, opening his mouth to make another comment, but the expression on your face tells him you’re definitely done talking about the topic.

He does have some self restraint.

—

Stepping out of the San Jose International Airport almost felt like going into a time machine, spitting you right back out where you’d left that decade ago just 18 miles from your old campus.

It felt even more surreal actually reaching Stanford’s main site, walking around the place you’d dedicated four years of your life to. Not much had changed since you’d left, not that you really expected it to, but it felt almost foreign to you to walk around the campus as you were now, a properly matured adult compared to the almost naive teenager you started as.

You began where you always did, at the most recent crime scene, a college dorm room on the south-east side of the campus.

It was pretty standard, a bedroom big enough for a double bed and a desk, a built in wardrobe, and a private bathroom; Decorated how you would expect from a girl in her early twenties, covered in memories and interests that gave it a personality outside of the off-white paint on the walls.

Of course, it was mildly ruined by the fact the previously pink bedsheets were stained in a pool of oxidised blood that dripped down onto the rug adorned floor and ledger small spatters on the skirting boards, but what can you really expect when the girl had been cut open whilst she was still alive and most definitely struggling against it.

“There’s no signs of forced entry,” All Morgan could do was shrug as he examined the fire door that acted as the room’s only entrance. “The inside lock was unfastened and there’s no marks indicating it was forced open, or that it even could be without heavy grade tools,”

“So our unsub had his own key then?”

“Or,” Emily’s suggestion was side-stepped by Spencer, “He was let in,”

There’s a small hum from Hotch as he stands beside you, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. “Alright,” He turns his eyes onto you with a small nod, “Take Prentiss to the Mortuary and check the autopsy. Morgan, Reid, get Garcia to find a list of professors the victims shared and go and speak with them, they might’ve noticed a change in the girls’ behaviours before their deaths.”

“Will do,”

“Got it,”

There’s a series of shared nods between you as you spilt up, leaving Hotch, Rossi and JJ at the crime scene in search of any more information they could utilise.

—

Trying to catch a Professor when they’re not busy is harder than most people would think. So hard in fact that Spencer and Morgan had been left with standing inside one of the lecture rooms to endure the last twenty minutes of a forensic psychology lesson so they could get the professor between classes.

“Professor Callahan?”

“For any personal feedback on your essay please send me an email,” The professor doesn’t so much as look up from the papers he collects and organises on his desk, seemingly already in a rush even after barely two minutes of the lecture ending.

Morgan and Spencer share a glance.

“My name’s Dr Spencer Reid, and this is Agent Morgan, we’re from the FBI,”

Callahan looks up this time, rectangle glasses reflecting the two back to each other through the overhead lighting.

“We were hoping we could ask you a few questions, Sir,”

Spencer watches the Professor’s eyebrows knit in confusion before his eyes spark with a hint of realisation, and then understanding.

“Yes, of course,” He nods, collecting the pile of papers in his right arm. “Please, follow me into my office,”

His office is filled with bookshelves stacked with psychology texts and framed accolades lining the walls. Small busts of philosophers in the mpty spaces. His desk is littered with small rememberences of his former students, and lining the opposite wall is another, a small plaque reading Dr. Wittchen at it’s forefront.

“Did you notice any changes in the girls’ behaviour, or anything unusual leading up to their deaths?” Spencer’s question is cautious, if not a little bit emotionally insensitive.

Callahan’s expression shifts to one of concern. “Honestly, I hadn’t noticed anything alarming. They were all such high achievers, incredibly driven. The stress of their programs sometimes affected them, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

Spencer nods, then glances toward the accompanying desk. “What about Professor Wittchen? Does he interact with the students much?”

Callahan hesitates, his brow furrowing slightly. “Robert is highly respected, very dedicated to his work. He can be a little tough on their grades, but more often than not he’s sat in here doing one-on-one tutoring in his spare time,”

Spencer hums softly at Callahan’s assessment. “Do you know if he turoed any of the girls? He might have a better insight into any changes in their mannerisms,”

“I’m not sure I’m afraid,” Callahan shakes his head, “I leave him to his teachings most of the ime, but I can let him know you’ve asked,”

As they speak, Morgan’s gaze drifts to a nearby display shelf adorned with photographs of past students on the far wall, each one framed and labeled with a name and a date.

Etched into the wood of the shelf itself an engraving reading, “Shelf of Stars.” stood front and centre, and as Morgan’s eyes wandered the pictures, a certain label caught his attention.

Front and centre, there you sat, “2006 PhD” followed by your name, a picture of you and your Professors in what’s presuambly your first year.

“No way,” Morgan breathes out a laugh. “Reid come look at this,”

“What? What’s wrong?” Spencer and Callahan’s expressions mirror each other as they glance over at Morgan in concern, only for him to quash any need for worry as he holds up the frame in their direction.

“Look how different she looks! What happened, did she get hit by a truck when she turned 20 or what?”

There’s a flicker of recognition in Spencer’s eyes, one that almost turns to fondness as he takes in the bright smile printed behind the glass. He’s not sure he’s ever seen you smile like that since you’ve been with the team.

“You know her?” Callahan raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s on our team,” Morgan nods with a chuckle as he places the picture back where he found it, pulling out his phone to snap a photo, probably to make fun of you later.

“Really?” Professor Callahan looks more than a little surprised at the revelation. “I knew she was destined for great things, but the FBI, wow,” He breathes out a short sigh, nodding. “Robert’ll have a field day when he finds out she chose forensics over clinical,”

Spencer gives what’s almost a laugh, clearing his throat. “Well, Professor, thank you for speaking with us, we’ll contact you if we find any more information,”

“No problem at all, my door is always open,” Callahan follows Spencer and Morgan over to the office door, holding it open for them as they leave.

“Oh, Agents?” He stops them before they get too far. “If you have any time in or after your investigation, ask her to pay us a visit? It’d be nice to catch up,”

“We’ll let her know,”

—

“From what I can tell, the removal of the uterus was done antemortem, and the victims cause of death was the blood loss that resulted from it,” The Coroner lifts the muscle torn by the initial incision to give you and Emily a proper look at the damage.

“The nature of the incisions tells that they were most likely done with proper surgical instruments, a scalpel most likely, but their nature is unpracticed, see here for example,”

She points towards the left side of the victims pelvis, where the muscle had been separated from the uteral lining. “In a professional hysterectomy, this tissue here would also be removed, but in this case it’s been left attached to the surrounding tissues, and the same can be said for the others,”

“So our unsub knows the basics, is that something that would require medical training?” Emily furrows her eyebrows at the sight, and you’re much the same.

The sight is almost enough to make you feel nauseous, but you don’t need sickly thoughts clouding your judgement right now.

“Possibly, although with how the internet is, it’s possible they read an article or watched a documentary on how the procedure is done,” The coroner sways her head side to side, “I’d say that whoever did this has had some training, but not necessarily in the field,”

Emily hums, turning her gaze from the victim towards you. “Medical student maybe?”

You hum absently, eyes trained on the gaping hole left in the girl’s stomach. “Maybe, probably won’t still be a student though,”

It affects you more than it should, you think, a malingering nagging in the back of your head that won’t leave you alone but also won’t tell you why it’s there in the first place.

You sigh, “We should look at biologists too, clinical fields,”

Emily gives you an agreeing nod. “I’ll call Garcia,” She pats your shoulder deftly as she leaves the room.

“Was there anything else strange about the body?” You tear your eyes away from the girl to look up at the coroner, who only gives you a small shake of her head.

“Not that I can see,” Her gaze, though objective, flickers with small amounts of uncertainty. “It’s so upsetting, things like this, what spurs someone to do something so… primally horrific?”

“A rejection probably, a denial of a sexual relationship or children that’s projected onto other women because he can’t get to the person he really wants to hurt,” You shrug out an exhale. “More common than you’d think,”

She frowns. “it’s awful,”

“Yeah,” You purse your lips together. “But it is what it is,”

—

“Did the three girls have any clear connections?”

Garcia taps away on her keyboard, and the jingling of her earrings over the reciever suggests that she’s shaking her head. “Apart from being Stanford students, not really. Julie was doing an MsC in Pediatric Therapy, Ophelia doing an MA in History of Medicine, and Marie doing a PhD in Psychology.” She sighs. “None of them had any classes together, no mutual friends, I don’t even think they knew the others existed,”

“There has to be some overlap,” Morgan groans exasperatedly, glancing over at the mostly bare profile board that him and Spencer were trying to put together. They’d spoken to most of the girls’ professors by now, and apart from offhanded comments about stress and pressure, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

It was frustrating, really frustrating, and for all they knew, the team was on a time limit before another girl suffered the same fate. They needed a break in the case, sooner rather than later.

“What about the students Emily asked you to look into? Spencer bends almost awkardly towards Morgan’s phone, trying to raise his voice into the speaker whilst still writing against the whiteboard.

“Nada, I’m afraid, no one who had connections to all three girls, past or present, I’ve hit a wall,”

“No kidding,” Morgan exhales heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand not holding his phone. “Thanks anyway, sweetness,”

“Of course my love, I’ll hit you back if I find anything, Penny G out,” —

“So we’ve got three dead girls, no connections, and no signature to help us track down this guy, lovely,” Emily sips on her coffee, leaning back into her chair with a sigh.

“Isn’t this like every other case we’ve ever had?” You raise an eyebrow is disinterest, stretching you arms above your head and almost hitting Morgan in the face as he and Spencer reenter the room from their lunch break.

The Psychology department had been kind enough to loan you one of their staff rooms during your investigation, and comments had already been made about Hotch’s demeanour as he walked around you like he was keeping an eye on a group of toddlers.

“There’s something we’re missing here,” Rossi pours over the whiteboard with a disgruntled sigh, his palm dragging down the side of his face. “There’s always something,”

Reid nods, tapping his pen against his notebook as he takes a seat. “Even perfectionists leave traces. It’s just a matter of understanding their logic—how they justify their actions.”

“Change of subject quickly,” Morgan holds up a hand as he walks around the table, his other hand landing on your shoulder. “Talking of leaving traces, who was going to tell us that you actually knew how to smile?”

You shrug his hand off of you with a furrow of your eyebrows. “What?”

“I’m talking little nineteen year old you beaming like you were trying to compete with the sun,” He digs his phone from his pocket, holding the screen out to face the group. “I mean look at this, look at you, its weird,”

You snatch the phone from him as soon as you recognise the picture. “Why do you have that picture?”

“We took a trip to see one of your old Professors,” Morgan wrestles the device back out of your hands before you have a chance to what he assumes will be deleting the evidence of your past sunniness. “He asked to see you at some point by the way, wants to ‘catch up’,”

“Delete that photo, Morgan.” You cross one leg over the other with a huff.

“No way, Ice Queen, I’m gonna make fun of you with this forever,”

“I hate you,”

”I love you too,” He blows an air kiss in your direction.

The shrill ring of the door opening cuts through the room, snapping everyone to attention. A mildly out of breath PD officer leaning against the doorframe.

“There’s been another one,” she says, her voice tight.

The room erupts into motion.

—

When you arrive, the scene is eerily similar to the others. The victim, a young woman in her early twenties, lies in the middle of her dorm room, fully clothed and carefully positioned. Her face is serene, as though she’s simply sleeping. The blood pooling out of her lower abdomen tells you that she’s not.

“Victim’s name is Natalie Yu. Twenty-one, Psychology major. She fits the profile—academic, driven, top of her class.” JJ fills you in easily.

You step closer, your heart sinking as you take in the meticulous staging. The unsub’s reverence for his victims is apparent in every detail. No signs of a struggle. No personal belongings out of place.

Reid crouches near the body, his eyes narrowing. “Same as the others. No physical trauma that would suggest a cause of death other than bloodloss. Removal of reproductive organs.”

Morgan stands by the door, his jaw clenched. “This guy’s escalating. Three murders in three weeks, and now this. He’s not slowing down.”

Something catches Prentiss’s eye. She kneels beside the victim and carefully lifts the edge of her blouse. Tucked neatly into the waistband of her jeans is a folded piece of paper.

“What’s this?” she murmurs, pulling on gloves before unfolding the note. The room goes still as she reads aloud:

“It was meant to be you.”

You lean over Emily’s shoulder to get a glance at the writing yourself. And then you immediately regret doing so. The handwriting is unmistakable—sharp, angular strokes that you’d recognise anywhere.

But you can’t say that. Not yet.

“‘It was meant to be you’?” Rossi repeats, stepping closer. “What the hell does that mean?”

Reid frowns. “It’s personal. Direct. He’s targeting someone specific now.”

“It could be a taunt,” JJ offers. “A way to throw us off or instill fear in the team.”

Morgan shakes his head, his expression grim. “No. This is different. This isn’t just about control anymore—this is about sending a message,”

“It’s personal,” Reid says again, his gaze sweeping the room. For a brief moment, his eyes land on you, and you feel like he can see right through you.

“Excuse me,” you manage, your voice steady despite the panic clawing at your chest.

You step outside, the crisp air hitting you like a jolt. Your hands shake as you pull out your phone, staring at the screen without really seeing it. The note wasn’t just a taunt—it was a reminder. He knew you were here. He’d known the moment you stepped onto campus.

It was meant to be you.

The words echo in your mind, a sinister promise that leaves no room for doubt.

—

“This is different from the previous victims,” Spencer says, “The note changes everything. If we assume the unsub has been fixated on someone specific all along, the other victims could have been surrogates—stand-ins for the real target.”

Prentiss looks at him sharply. “You think the unsub is escalating because the real target is now within reach?”

He nods. “Exactly. The murders were practice, perfecting the method. But now that the target is accessible, he’s shifting focus.”

“Great,” Morgan mutters. “Wonderful.”

JJ gestures to the note. “We need to figure out who he’s targeting—and fast.”

You stand by the door, your stomach twisting. You can’t let them figure it out, not like this.

“I’ll follow up on the note,” you say, forcing a calm you don’t feel. “Maybe there’s something about the phrasing or handwriting we can use to narrow down suspects.”

Morgan eyes you, his brow furrowed. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been quiet since we got here.”

You nod quickly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go.

—

You barricade yourself in the staff room, spreading out the case files across the table. You stare at the note, the handwriting glaring up at you like a brand.

“It was meant to be you.”

You were just a kid, desperate to prove yourself. He saw that. He used it.

You grip the edge of the table, your knuckles white. You can’t let him win. Not again.

A knock at the door pulls you out of your thoughts. It’s Spencer, holding a cup of coffee.

“Thought you could use this,” he says, setting it down in front of you.

“Thank you.” You manage a display of gratitude, but his gaze lingers, sharp and questioning.

“You’ve been off since we got here,” he says softly. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Your heart skips a beat. Reid is too perceptive for his own good, and you know he won’t let this go.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “Just tired.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods, stepping back. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

As he leaves, you let out a shaky breath. The walls are closing in, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep this to yourself. Not if you don’t want anyone else to die because of it.

—

Spencer stands near the board, absentmindedly tapping his pen against his palm. Morgan is leaning against a table, arms crossed, while Prentiss and JJ exchange quiet remarks by the coffee pot. Rossi, as always, is seated with his chair tipped back, his eyes fixed on the board.

But it’s Hotch who breaks the silence. “This unsub’s timeline is escalating, and the note makes it clear they’re getting bolder. If we don’t figure out their connection to Stanford soon, someone else is going to die.”

Morgan sighs. “We’ve gone through the victim profiles a dozen times. There’s no overlap other than the school. No shared clubs, professors, dorms, nothing. It’s like this guy’s picking them at random.”

“Not random,” Spencer interjects, his voice sharp. “The victims are stand-ins for someone else. I’m sure of it. The note confirmed it—‘It was meant to be you.’ The unsub isn’t just killing; they’re trying to send a message to someone.”

Rossi tilts his head. “None of them bear any significant physical relation to each other,”

Reid nods. “It doesn’t have to be physical. It’s an ideal, there’s something specific that ties all of the victims together, something linked to whoever the unsub is actually after,”

JJ frowns. “But who is it? If it’s not one of the victims, how do we figure out who the unsub is fixated on?”

You tense in your chair, your hands curling into fists under the table. You can feel their eyes shifting to you, their collective attention like a spotlight burning against your skin.

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “You did go here. Maybe there’s something you’d recognise—something we’ve missed.”

You meet their gazes with forced calm, willing your voice to remain steady. “Just because I went to Stanford doesn’t mean this case has anything to do with me.”

Prentiss leans forward slightly, her tone gentle but insistent. “No one’s saying it does, but if there’s even a chance—”

“There’s not.” you cut her off, sharper than you intended. The words hang in the air, and you immediately regret your tone. It doesn’t change anything though. “We’re here because of the victims, not because I graduated from here a decade ago.”

The room falls quiet, and the tension thickens. Hotch watches you carefully, his unreadable gaze a weight you can’t escape.

“I need some air,” you say abruptly, standing before anyone can argue. “I’ll be back in a few.”

You leave the room before anyone can stop you, the sound of your boots echoing down the sterile hall.

—

Stanford’s campus feels both foreign and familiar as you wander its paths. The sprawling quads and ivy-covered buildings haven’t changed much in the years since you left, but the memories they stir feel sharp and raw.

You stop at a bench near the Psychology department, the cool breeze doing little to calm the storm inside you. Your arms wrap around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together.

“You’re not fine.”

The voice startles you, but you don’t turn around. You’d recognise that soft, observant tone anywhere. Spencer.

He sits beside you, leaving a respectful distance between you, his lanky frame folding awkwardly on the bench. “You’ve been different since we got here,” he says after a moment. “Quiet. Hesitant. That’s not like you,”

You don’t respond, staring out at the students passing by, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the weight in your chest.

“I know it’s not just the case,” he continues, his voice gentle but unyielding. “There’s something else. Something you’re not telling us.”

Your jaw tightens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,”

His certainty grates on your already frayed nerves, and you finally turn to him, your eyes flashing. “What are you trying to say, Reid? Spit it out.”

He hesitates, his brow furrowing as he chooses his words carefully. “I think you know who the unsub is. Or at least… you suspect,”

You laugh, the sound bitter and sharp. “That’s a hell of an accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” he says quickly. “I’m worried about you. You’re not acting like yourself, and the way you reacted to that note…” He trails off, shaking his head. “It was different. You looked like you’d seen a ghost,”

“Maybe I’m just tired,” you snap, the defensive edge in your voice sharper than you intend.

He doesn’t flinch, his gaze steady and unwavering. “It’s more than that. I can see it. You’re scared,”

The word hits you like a slap, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. He’s right, of course. You are scared. Terrified, even. But admitting that feels like surrendering, like letting him win.

“Stop it,” you say, your voice low and dangerous. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Spencer leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studies you. “I think I do. I think this unsub has a connection to you. And I think that’s why you’ve been avoiding us—because you don’t want us to figure it out.”

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, and you glare at him, your composure threatening to crack. “You don’t know what he did to me.”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and the moment they do, you see the understanding dawn in his eyes. “Who?” Spencer presses gently. “Who are we talking about?”

Your chest heaves as you fight back the tears threatening to spill. “One of my Professors.”

“Did he…” Spencer hesitates in pressing the subject, a mix of his usual timidness when it comes to you and the fear that he’s broaching on a very concerning topic.

“It was consensual.”

Spencer watches you closely, his eyes searching your face for a sign, some clue, as if trying to understand the puzzle that is your inner workings.

He doesn’t push, but the silence between you both is suffocating. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks again, but it still cuts through the heavy air between you.

"You were just a kid," Spencer murmurs, his words soft but no less sharp. "He took advantage of you when you were vulnerable, when you were still figuring things out. That’s manipulation."

You flinch at the truth of it, at the way he so easily sees the pieces of your life you've tried so hard to bury. You didn’t want to think about him anymore, didn’t want to remember how he twisted every gesture, every word, until it was all about him, all about what he wanted.

You can still feel the weight of his hands, the way he made you feel like you didn’t have a choice, that this was all part of the price you had to pay to succeed, to be seen as worthy of your place in academia.

Spencer shifts slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “He used his power over you. You were just a kid, and he was a professor. Someone you trusted.” His words are steady, but they cut deep. "You were in a position where you thought you had to do what he wanted. But it wasn’t your fault,”

“It was consensual.” you say again, more firmly this time, though it feels like you’re trying to convince yourself rather than him, the words raw and drenched in a cold calmness you didn’t really feel.

“Was it?” Spencer asks gently, his voice low. “If you were 19 and you thought you had to do it to get ahead, was it really? Was it truly your choice?”

You feel the air leave your lungs, and you want to scream at him, to deny everything, to make him stop asking these questions, because the answers are too painful, too complicated.

But he’s right. You were a child—so young, so desperate to succeed, to make a name for yourself in a field dominated by people like him. You thought you were lucky when he took you under his wing, when he offered you guidance, extra attention, time. But you weren’t.

“I had an abortion,” you finally confess, the words coming out in a broken whisper.

Spencer’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he’s silent, processing your admission. His lips part as though he wants to say something, but nothing comes. He doesn’t push, though, just watches you, his expression a mix of sympathy and concern, but there's no judgment in it. Not like you expected.

“In my shitty college dorm room,” Your voice catches, and you blink rapidly, trying to stop the sting in your eyes. “I thought I was dying. The amount of blood—” You let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling in your lap. “I didn't know how to make it stop.Sometimes I wish it didn’t.”

“Don’t say that.”

Spencer leans in a little, his gaze intense, but gentle. “You were just a kid,” he says softly, his words like a balm, soothing yet cutting through the guilt. “He took advantage of you. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve that.”

You want to believe him. You want so badly to hear those words and let them erase the shame that has clung to you for so long. But the voices of doubt are louder in your head. The fear that somehow, deep down, it was your fault. That maybe you could’ve said no, maybe you could’ve gotten away before it went too far.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” you say, your voice low, almost ashamed of the vulnerability. “I couldn’t tell my parents or my friends… or anyone. It was like everything I worked for, everything I had, was tied to him. If I said something, everything would’ve been ruined.”

Spencer’s brows furrow, and he lets out a soft exhale. “No one should ever have to carry that weight alone, especially not at your age.” His voice is steady, but there’s something deeply empathetic in his tone. “It’s not a burden you should’ve had to bear by yourself.”

“I lied to him too,” you whisper, the confession hanging heavily in the air. “I told him I miscarried. He was devastated. He wasn’t even angry—just sad. But I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything.”

“You…” Spencer starts, hesitating to make sure he words his response correctly. “Being in a state of shock is normal after a traumatic event,”

You shake your head. “I know what shock feels like. I was just numb. I murdered my own child and I didn’t even feel guilty about it.”

Spencer’s jaw tightens slightly, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes, but it’s not directed at you. It’s directed at him, at the man who should’ve protected you, not preyed on you. His voice is tight, but he keeps it calm.

“You did what you had to do. That’s not your fault.”

“It was alive. Seventeen weeks. I flushed it down the fucking toilet,” You drag your palm down your face, leaning forward until your elbows are resting on your knees.

“I didn’t even want to graduate after that,” you admit, your voice raw. “I couldn’t face him. I just wanted to disappear, but I was not going to put myself through hell without getting something out of it.”

Spencer is quiet for a long moment, taking in everything you’ve said. His gaze never wavers from yours, like he’s trying to understand every piece of you, trying to reach that place where you’re still hiding, still locked away from the rest of the world.

“You don’t owe anyone an explanation for what happened. You did what you needed to survive. And you are surviving. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

You close your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. The storm inside you hasn’t calmed, but for the first time in a long while, it feels like it’s not threatening to swallow you whole. The walls you’ve built around yourself feel just a little more porous, itching to crumble.

“I’m scared,” you say, the vulnerability you’ve been holding back creeping into your voice. “He’s murdering people because of me.”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. He sits up straighter, his expression serious. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll help you, and we’ll make sure that he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

“You can’t tell anyone what I just told you.”

He lets out a sigh of your name.

“Promise me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” He nods solemnly. “I promise.”

—

The moment you walk through the doors of the empty lecture hall, you feel it—that same nauseating mix of dread and anticipation curling in your stomach. The air is stale, thick with the weight of memories you spent years trying to forget.

He’s already there, standing at the podium like he belongs there, like nothing has changed. Like he hasn’t left a trail of bodies behind him.

“Ah,” Professor Wittchen exhales as if relieved. “There you are,”

Your fingers twitch at your sides. “I should’ve known you’d pick this place.”

His lips curve into a small smile, a smile that used to make you feel seen. Now, it makes your skin crawl. “It’s fitting, don’t you think? This is where it all began,”

He watches you with the same unwavering gaze he always had, the one that used to make you feel special—chosen. Now, it just feels predatory.

“I missed you,” he says simply, stepping closer.

You don’t move.

“You should’ve visited,” he continues, his voice warm, inviting, like this is a casual conversation and not a confrontation between a killer and his last loose end. “You were my brightest student,”

“I was your victim.” you correct, voice sharp.

His expression doesn’t falter. If anything, he looks pleased. “Victim?” he echoes, like he’s rolling the word around in his mouth, testing its weight. “That’s not how I remember it.”

You swallow hard, jaw clenched. You knew this was how he would react. Knew he would twist things, make them blurry, like he always had.

He tilts his head, studying you. “I heard you became a profiler. That’s impressive. Though I always thought you were more inclined to be a Psychiatrist.”

“You shouldn't be surprised,” you say flatly. “I learned from the best manipulators.”

A flicker of amusement crosses his face. “Now, that’s not fair,”

Your nails dig into your palms. “I know it’s you,” you say, cutting through the act. “You murdered four innocent women because you couldn’t move on.”

He exhales, almost disappointed. “That’s not quite right.”

You don’t let him continue. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”

His gaze darkens, and for the first time since you stepped into this room, the warmth fades from his expression. “It’s been ten years since you left me,” he says simply. “You never even had the decency to say goodbye. I tried to find a substitute, but they weren’t like you. No body is. You’re special.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but you force yourself to hold his stare. “I didn’t owe you anything.”

Wittchen exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you’ve disappointed him. “That’s not true. I shaped you. I made you.”

A bitter laugh escapes you. “You ruined my life.”

His eyes flicker with something unreadable, and then—slowly—he steps down from the podium, closing the distance between you. “You don’t believe that.”

Your breath catches, but you don’t move.

He stops inches from you, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I see it in your eyes. You still need me.”

You know what he’s doing. You know how his mind works, how he bends reality to his will, how he rewrites history to suit his narrative.

And for the first time, you don’t fall for it.

“You’re pathetic,” you whisper. “You think killing people will make me what? Love you? Miss you?” You shake your head. “You mean nothing to me.”

Something in his expression shifts. It’s subtle, but you catch it. The crack in his mask. The first glimpse of the monster beneath.

His fingers twitch at his sides.

There it is. The control slipping.

Good.

You see the flash of something dark behind his eyes—anger, frustration, maybe even desperation. He knows he’s losing control, and for a man like him, that’s unbearable.

You take a step forward. Not away, but closer.

“I hate you.” you say, your voice sharp, cutting through the heavy silence of the room.

Wittchen’s lips barely twitch, but you see the flicker of amusement in his eyes, like he thinks you’re still playing a game with him. Like this is another debate, another test of wills.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs. “Not really.”

Your hands curl into fists at your sides. “Don’t tell me how I feel.”

He sighs, tilting his head like you’re disappointing him. “I did anything you didn’t ask for,” he says, like it’s a fact. “You wanted me.”

Rage burns through you, hot and all-consuming. “I was nineteen,” you spit. You knew exactly what you were doing. You took advantage of me.”

Wittchen exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that,”

“It was exactly like that,” you snap, stepping closer. “And do you want to know the worst part? I spent years telling myself it wasn’t. That maybe I did love you, that maybe I wanted to be with you. But I didn’t.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t deny it.

“I don’t regret leaving you,” you continue, voice trembling with fury. “I don’t regret moving on, or never looking back. But do you know what I do regret?”

He doesn’t answer, just watches you carefully, like he’s waiting for the killing blow.

“I regret ever letting you touch me. I regret every second I spent thinking you were something special, that you cared about me. You didn’t. You only cared about what I could give you.”

Something shifts in his expression—subtle, but enough. His fingers twitch again.

You steel yourself and drive the dagger deeper.

“You think I miscarried?” you ask, voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s what I told you, right? That I lost the baby?”

His face remains eerily blank.

“I lied,” you whisper. “I had an abortion.”

His entire body stiffens.

“Because the thought of being tied to you for the rest of my life made me sick. And I would’ve rather died from sepsis than deal with you.”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

For a moment, Wittchen doesn’t react. Doesn’t breathe.

Then, without warning, he moves.

His hand goes for his waistband, and in a split second, you see the glint of a gun.

But you’re faster.

Your own weapon is already in your hands before he can fully draw his, aimed directly at his chest.

“Don’t.” you warn, your voice steel.

Wittchen hesitates, his gun halfway raised, his eyes locked onto yours.

For the first time, there’s something close to uncertainty in his expression.

—

The team is listening.

They hear every word.

Spencer’s grip on his gun is tight, knuckles white, jaw clenched so hard it aches. The rest of the team stands tense beside him, ears trained on the conversation happening just beyond the door.

They could go in. They should go in.

But they don’t.

Not yet.

Because this isn’t their battle.

Still, when they hear the shift in the conversation, the moment Wittchen reaches for his gun, every muscle in Spencer’s body tenses, ready to move.

And then—

Silence.

A long, stretching silence.

Then a single gunshot.

—

“You’re lying,” Wittchen snaps, his voice rising as his fingers curl tighter around the revolver’s grip. He pulls back the hammer with a metallic click, the sound loud in the charged silence of the lecture hall.

His arm is steady, the barrel aimed at your chest, but you don't flinch. “You miscarried. You were sick. That’s the truth. I took care of you. I was there when you needed me.”

Your lips curl into a bitter smile.

“The baby was fine,” you say, voice cold and firm. “I just didn’t want it.”

The words hang between you, heavy and raw.

For a split second, something akin to disbelief flickers in his eyes. But he recovers quickly, his jaw tightening as his grip on the gun tightens. The cold, calculating look is back.

The man who used his power over you is right here, still trying to control the situation. But he’s unraveling, and you can see it now—the cracks in his façade.

“You think you can just walk away from all this?” Wittchen growls, his voice a low threat. His eyes dart between you and the gun in your hand, calculating the distance, the time it would take to react.

“You’re going to watch me.” you reply, your voice steady despite the chaos swirling inside you. You take a step forward, gun lowered in favour of a pair of handcuffs.

He lets out a sharp breath, taking a step backwards, his arm still outstretched, but his expression is one of rage and something else—desperation.

“I gave you everything,” Wittchen sneers. “I could’ve given you more. You were a star, you were going places. But you threw it all away.”

“I didn’t throw away anything.” you say, voice sharp, anger curling in your gut. “I made my life what I wanted it to be.”

You take another step toward him. Your hand grips your gun tighter, its cold weight a reminder of how far you’ve come, how much you’ve survived.

“I was a kid,” you say, quieter now, more dangerous. “A kid who wanted to make something of herself. But you? You made sure I’d always be tied to you, that I’d never escape your reach. You took that from me. And now?”

Now, you’re not just angry. Now, you’re done.

“I don’t need you anymore,” you continue, voice quiet but lethal. “And I don’t need to live in fear of you. Not anymore. Just give up.”

Wittchen’s face hardens. His finger moves closer to the trigger, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still. His eyes are cold, calculating—he’s trying to force you to back down, to make you fear him again. But you don’t. Not anymore.

And he knows it.

The silence stretches out, suffocating. And then, without another word, he turns the gun away from you and towards himself.

For a moment, the world is frozen.

The sharp scent of gunpowder lingers in the air.

You don’t flinch.

You don’t move.

Wittchen stares at you, almost smiling.

A slow, dark red stain spreads across his chest. His gun falls from his hand, clattering uselessly to the floor.

Then, his knees buckle.

He collapses.

The impact is dull, almost anticlimactic.

His breath comes in shallow gasps, and for the first time since you walked into this room, he looks small.

Weak.

The man who once held so much power over you is nothing more than a dying, pathetic heap on the floor.

And somehow, there’s no satisfaction in it.

You watch as the light fades from his eyes, as the last breath leaves his lips.

And then—

It’s over.

—

The gunshot sends the team into action.

Spencer is the first through the door, gun raised, eyes scanning the room for threats.

But all he finds is you—standing still, gun loose in one hand, handcuffs in the other, staring blankly ahead.

Wittchen is on the floor, unmoving. Blood pools around him.

For a second, no one speaks.

Then you move.

Without looking at any of them, you turn away from the corpse.

And then, numbly, silently, you walk past them.

You don’t stop when Spencer calls your name.

You don’t stop when JJ reaches for you.

You just keep walking.

Because it’s finally over.

And yet, somehow, it doesn’t feel like a victory at all.

—

The air outside the lecture hall is thick with tension.

Your gun feels heavy in your hands, and at some point, you register someone gently taking it from you. You don’t resist.

The hallways of Stanford feel different now. The ghosts you tried so hard to forget have been exorcised, but their shadows still linger.

You reach the nearest exit and step outside, inhaling sharply as the crisp night air hits you. You brace your hands on your knees, grounding yourself.

Then you hear footsteps behind you.

You know it’s them.

You straighten, forcing yourself to meet their gazes.

Hotch stands with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his presence steady. JJ and Emily exchange a look, worry etched into their features. Rossi, as always, watches with quiet understanding.

Then there’s Morgan.

He looks… shaken.

Guilt lingers in his eyes, and when he steps forward, his voice is lower, softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You blink, caught off guard.

“For what?” Your voice is hoarse, raw.

Morgan exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw with his eyes full of regret. “I didn’t know.”

You swallow hard. You don’t want to talk about it. But there’s something in his voice, in the way his usually confident demeanor falters, that makes you nod stiffly.

“I know.”

It’s the closest thing to forgiveness you can offer right now.

Morgan nods, accepting it.

Spencer is the last to approach.

He doesn’t say anything at first—just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets. His eyes, though, say everything.

You hold his gaze for a moment before sighing. “What?”

“I don’t know what to say,” he admits. His voice is careful, but there’s an edge of something else—frustration, sadness, maybe even anger. Not at you. Never at you. But at what happened. At what Wittchen took from you.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you murmur.

—

The hum of the jet is steady and low, a constant presence that fills the silence between breaths.

You sit by the window, staring out at the clouds, your reflection barely visible against the dark glass.

You should be exhausted.

You are exhausted.

But sleep won’t come.

Your mind won’t let it.

The seat next to you shifts slightly, and you glance over to see Spencer settling beside you.

He doesn’t say anything.

Doesn’t ask if you’re okay, because he already knows you’re not.

Doesn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances.

He just sits.

And somehow, that’s reassurance enough.

Sleep comes a little easier after that.

[uniquexusposts]

The one-off | Carlos Sainz Jr. x reader (1)

Summary: She’s not from the world of F1, she’s a sunshine-soft emergency medical specialist used to cracked ribs and bloody football pitches. But when a one-time case calls her into the paddock, she ends up face-to-face with the man she once loved and left behind. Carlos drives for Williams now. She’s just here to fix a shoulder. It’s clinical. Temporary. Professional. So why does it feel like everything unfinished between them is waiting just under the surface?

The paddock buzzes with nerves and noise, full of sleek bodies and sharper egos. It’s like walking into the belly of a machine that’s forgotten how to breathe.

Y/n steps out of the taxi, the sun pressing down hard on her shoulders, and adjusts the strap of her med bag. She smiles politely at the security guard who stood next to the gate, a smile that’s met with confusion. She scanned her pass and walked through. Her bright energy doesn’t quite match the paddock’s stiff professionalism. She doesn’t mind.

She’s used to being the odd one out.

Her badge reads: Dr. Y/N Y/L/N – Emergency Medical Specialist Temporary Access – Williams Racing

Field hockey, football, high-contact chaos; that’s her usual beat. Fast-paced games, cracked ribs, adrenaline surges, bloodied faces. She thrives in the mess. Her reputation has grown not because she’s loud, but because she’s always calm when everyone else panics. Kind to the athletes. Brutal with the rehab.

F1 wasn’t supposed to be on the list. It never has been.

But a call came three days ago.

"It’s urgent. One-time case. Discretion preferred. The driver requested someone with your record."

She didn’t ask which driver.

But now she knows.

She read the file that morning and felt the breath catch in her chest, even if her face never changed.

Carlos Sainz. She hadn’t heard that name out loud in almost two years.

The Williams motorhome is sleek and sterile, like someone tried to design a hotel lobby for robots. She’s led through a glass corridor by a young staffer who speaks fast and avoids eye contact.

"You’ll have the physio suite for the hour," he says, flustered. "Carlos will be in shortly. Let me know if you need... uh... water, towels, whatever."

"Thanks, I’m all good," Y/n says brightly, flashing him a warm smile.

He blinks like he doesn’t quite know what to do with that. She gets that reaction a lot. People expect someone harder. Sharper. Someone who barks orders.

They don’t expect her, sunshine voice, soft features, heart-shaped face. They don’t expect the shift that happens the second she starts working.

She enters the room, alone now, and exhales quietly. Clean table. Blank walls. Only a small Williams logo on the cabinet. She sets up fast, gloves, oils, pressure tools, ice packs, all lined up in practiced rhythm. Her fingers move automatically, but her thoughts are slower.

Carlos.

She hasn’t seen him since Madrid, some rooftop birthday, some too-warm July night where his laugh carried over the crowd like it still belonged to her.

She left before he saw her.

She had meant to forget him.

The door clicks open behind her, soft and deliberate.

She doesn’t turn.

She doesn’t have to.

"Didn’t expect you," Carlos says quietly, his voice lower than she remembers but just as steady.

Y/n adjusts the table height like it’s the most important thing in the world. "Didn’t expect you to be at Williams."

"I needed a change."

She nods once. "So did I."

Finally, she turns. And there he is, leaning against the door like he owns the oxygen in the room. Polo shirt hugging his frame, jaw sharper, hair longer than she remembers. There’s a new tiredness in his face, hidden behind his usual calm.

He blinks once when he sees her properly. "You look-"

"Don’t." She cuts him off, gentle but firm. "Shirt off. Lie face down."

A flash of amusement tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Still bossy."

"Still injured."

He obeys without protest, pulling his shirt over his head and settling on the table with the practiced ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times.

But not with her. Not like this.

"Why you?" he asks, voice muffled by the cushion under his cheek.

Y/n pulls on her gloves. "I’m called in for emergencies. Fast recovery. High pressure. You know. All the things you attract."

"You usually do football."

"And field hockey. And dislocated shoulders at 3am in random cities." She starts pressing gently along the edge of his spine. "This is a one-time thing."

A beat. Then: "Is it?"

She doesn’t answer.

Instead, her hands shift , from soft to surgical, mapping his shoulder like she’s reading a story in the tension. She finds the problem immediately: strain, deep in the rotator cuff, masked by compensation along the upper trap and back.

"You’ve been protecting this too long," she says gently. "Probably since your last crash."

Carlos hums. "Didn’t want to sit out."

"You’ll sit out if this tears."

"You always talked like that," he mutters, half amused. "Soft voice, scary hands."

Y/N smiles faintly. "You used to like that."

Silence.

She applies deeper pressure, focused and precise. Her energy softens between movements but tightens on contact, he flinches once when she hits a knot, but he doesn’t make a sound.

"You’re quiet," she says, half-teasing.

"Trying not to curse," he mutters into the table.

"That’s new."

Carlos huffs a breath of laughter, low and rough. It almost makes her lose rhythm.

"You always remembered how to hurt me."

Her hands pause.

Only for a second.

He says nothing.

She finishes the session in silence, professional to the end. When she steps back and peels off the gloves, her whole body feels like it’s buzzing, not from the work, but from everything unsaid.

Carlos sits up slowly, bare chest rising with each breath. He moves carefully, not because of the pain, but like he’s searching for words he doesn’t want to waste.

"You’re still the best," he says finally.

"And you’re still reckless," she replies, reaching for the ice pack.

Their fingers brush for a second.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like maybe he’s searching for the version of her that once stayed up all night on balconies and laughed at his terrible Spanish pick-up lines.

But Y/n only smiles, kind and tired and distant.

"Apply this tonight. Stretch tomorrow. Don’t be a hero."

Carlos stands slowly, polo draped over one arm. "I didn’t ask for you, by the way."

"I didn’t come for you."

Another silence.

But it feels different now. Not heavy, just unfinished.

At the door, he turns. "You ever think about Madrid?"

She tilts her head. "Only when I need a reason to say no."

He winces. Laughs once, under his breath. "Still sunshine with a bite."

And then he’s gone.

The door clicks shut behind him, and Y/n finally lets her shoulders drop.

She sits on the edge of the table, ice pack pressed to her own wrist where she’d overworked it from the pressure, and stares at the empty wall.

It was supposed to be clinical. Quick. Efficient.

But it wasn’t.

Not with him.

Not with Carlos.

And the worst part?

It didn’t feel over.

Part 2

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[squibsformers]

Feral Fears pt. 2

Transformers x Human

18+

In which the human finds their fangs.

Prev

It took the human… two hours? Maybe? Before they got curious.

And when they got curious, things became dangerous.

They had stolen wire from whoever owned this ship- probably more fuckass robots, knowing their luck. They used it to make rope. lots and lots of rope. Some remained wound and bound up in their makeshift pack, and then more was used to make a way down- one time only, most likely, so they tossed extra out of the hole to store for later.

Then, they went up, not down.

It took work, a lot of hissing and cursing, but they clambered up out of the crate and looked around, squinting. Maybe if they were lucky…

Aha. They scrambled across several crates before getting to one marked with red and white. Even they could figure it out.

Medical supplies.

It took a lot of effort to climb onto the package, more still to pop the case open, but when they did… they couldn't help the delight that shot through them, despite the ache in their arm.

Sharps.

Oh, the little human stomped their feet in delight. Eagerly, they rummaged through, grabbing a few different items. A scalpel, extra blades, some tape and some soft cloths they could use as a blanket or make into something else. Syringe? Yoinked that needle. Some sort of small plastic case full of drill bits? They took a few bits, dumped the rest out into the crate and took the door-sized case. Storage, drill bits were always good, all they needed now was-

AHA.

Containers.

They bundled up all their goodies, the empty plastic test tubes would make for good water storage- a rare find, not difficult though on a ship. Once everything was secured, they made a sling to hold the spear-sized scalpel, packed a bunch of bits and bobs away in the small plastic case, and began abseiling down the side of the crate.

Probably should have tried closing the medkit back up, but they didn't care enough to do so. Fuck these stupid robots, these ones were probably just as bad as the others. Giant, metal monsters, with insatiable appetites for violence and humiliating others.

…They shook their head and kept on going, yanking the wire they used to rappel down and finally dislodged it, bundling it back up and making a run for the nearest wall. Their arm felt like there were two little discs of aching lava lodged in it, but didn't want to dwell on it. They had to hurry.

Come on, come on, they had to find it, they had to find one so they could hide and- BINGO! One ventilation shaft, right on time.

The little human unscrewed some bolts, tossed their junk in and soon followed behind, pushing and pulling their haul along. Dips, turns, sheer wall of metal they used some magnets they had in their pack to get up… There was (hopefully) a machine in this ship like the other had, one that let out water vapor and drifted it up to a dehumidifier that they could use as a water source…

They would be in here for a while, and they would set up a good little base, and be millions of lightyears from those other bastards. Everything would be fine. They would be fine. Everything was fine now.

….Their busted arm hurt so bad…

Once they found a good base camp location, they would be making sure to wrap and brace it as best they could. They were no medic but, well. The little human was sure as hell not about to stroll up to one of THOSE things, asking for help. Those metal demons…

_______

Oddities followed the Lost Light like a plague in the cycles after they took off from the outpost. Which was normal but…you know.

It was truly no one's fault, everyone that was a passenger aboard had long since accepted the fate. Glitch mice plague? Seen it. Spark Eaters? Dealt with it. Spontaneous hallway brawls?? Ultra Magnus had started making some incident reports ahead of time that he just had to fill in some blanks to save time.

Rodimus…was staring at the storage hold, arms crossed.

“So…we have a thief…?”

“It's pretty likely, Rodimus.” Ratchet grumbled, digging through the medical supply box and sorting while looking at the order he had placed. “That, or the outpost ripped us off. Half of my supplies are missing.” Snarling, he threw a damaged laser scalpel to the ground. “This is a load of slag! What in the pit am I to do with half my order missing- that fabric tape was important for staunching flows in coolant lines!!”

“Frag…” He grumbled, hand on his chin. He looked over to Perceptor, the mech studying the hole in the crate. “Do you think that it was that shady mech with the grey stripes who loaded us?”

The sniper hummed, zooming in on some of the discarded and scattered blades. “Maybe… or perhaps we have a stowaway?” He murmured. “Look at these marks. They're kind of oily, and look like..silicone or rubber digit pads. Very small, but-”

“Dude, I can't see what you're talking about.”

Perceptor huffs.

“I think what we have is someone who snuck aboard. The reason why is anyone's guess, but, taking into account the amount of sharp items that have been taken…”

Rodimus felt a chill slink down his backstruts, glancing over at Ultra Magnus. “...a potential assassin…?”

“Sounds like it…” He grumbled. “The question now is who the target is…. as well as where they vanished off to.”

Perceptor had moved to scouring over the crate, trying to see what he could discover as Ratchet clutched the medical supplies closer, uneasy at what was being said.

“Okay. This stays between us here and those in the security detail.” Rodimus points at Perceptor. “That means no Brainstorm.” He turned, pointing to Ratchet, who looked a bit cross. “And no Drift.”

“You say that as if Brainstorm would focus on something like this.”

“Prime, you're going to end up telling him anyway.”

“I know. But I wanna tell him. Not you.”

“Whoever this was is around the size of a Minibot.”

That caught Magnus's attention, the enforcer looking back over. “Are you certain?”

“Very. It's the only way they could squeeze through a hole this size, though, their plating would catch for sure…” Perceptor slowly stood, tracing a warbling path with a laser pointer before having it end right at the vents. Narrow, but some minis could stand upright in parts of the passages…. ���Small, flexible, and doesn't want to be found.”

Rodimus's optics narrow. “Get the smallest security drones to do sweeps through the vents. We're flushing this cyber-rat out.”

________

Next NA

[iamtherlan]

Let's get into a massive deep dive into developing S.A.M - The Strong Arm Machine from Jetpack Joyride!

We wanted to add something that kept people engaged with the game, and kept the game relevant in a sea of "runner" games. We also wanted to own the game ourselves - this was the first big update from a new team taking over from the original "Ninja Pack" group.

Our first attempt was to build into - what was all this stuff was actually for? So the thought was an agent that you had to knock over and get their briefcase. This is a quick mockup I made.

And here's the prototype!

And.. it's not very fun! Kind of boring to deal with. So.. let's try something different!

What about a Sonic styled Egg-O-Matic? Looks more fun, but doesn't feel right. Barry smashing his face into it doesn't look right - especially when the game is about avoiding things.

So then we asked - what's the COOLEST thing we could do? What about a Scientist police squad? You have to avoid the rockets, while hitting the squad. Okay, but still felt a bit meh, and not great for smaller phones.

What about.. a T-Rex chase, Jurassic Park style? A quick mockup I had done.

In this case, a T-Rex would be behind you, and you're trying to destroy it with missiles. But avoiding missiles is super difficult.

What about... A Mega Barry? Some kind of Rock, Paper system mechanism? Eh, too complicated.

Let's simplify! What if you were in a giant robot that you need to shield? Some mockups I made using Metal Slug sprites.

And here's a prototype! Marvel Vs. Capcom Cap shield and T-Rex fit in well. It's a new Jetpack Joyride mechanic - you have to hit everything, rather than avoid! We have our mechanic!

Some concepts. First it was a big Barry, but why would the scientists make this? Something more menacing, more "Legitimate Industries".

An early version with a fire cannon instead, but it didn't really fit either. Needed to be a shield!

Let's talk about the S.A.M building sequence! We wanted to make sure that this felt epic, so it's built in 3 different sections!

S.A.M has 21 pieces in all, and a lot of destructibility. I feel for the people now who make skins for him!

And here's a bit of final gameplay! Big robot, bashing through stuff. He's got 3 hits to him, which makes him very useful, and hopefully get you back every day to play him again!

Using S.A.M means you got a daily challenge! Collect 5 and get a unique piece of clothing!

We added 16 new costumes at the time - so 32 unique pieces. To collect them all means playing for 160 days! That'd be great retention! Plus you could buy a present directly, which increased our spending too!

One of the fun things about S.A.M is his name. In other languages, we made sure his name also also used the S.A.M code.

How did this go? Huge! Our retention went up by 10%, and people loved it! It was a great addition to the game, and has been expanded upon a lot since.

And that was S.A.M!

[carionto]

Hardcore Space Parkour

Some Humans are worryingly agile. And stupidly driven to endanger themselves. For no reason we can understand.

________________________

Within the Coalition governing station of the segment of the Galaxy where the Sol system is are countless embassies for each member civilization. Each is designed to accommodate their respective species (or multiple in certain cases) to the fullest while also being able to host guests from any other member.

Then there are the communal areas, set for a galactic standard that is viable for the majority - gravity at 0.6 Earth, far less of that dangerous oxygen, and slightly more humid and cooler than what Humans are normally comfortable with. In fact, Humans technically fall outside the Galactic standards and are all equipped with a partial breathing assistance unit and pressurized clothing to stimulate their circulation. While they can function reasonably well despite what we assumed would be too draining without assistance, most Humans do make use of these gadgets.

Some, however, prefer to "stimulate" themselves a bit differently.

There is a small group of individual Humans many have dubbed "Leaping Cortix" after an infamous invasive fuzzy gelatinous centipede-like pest species that always manages to make a hive on any sufficiently large space station or vessel given enough time. Everybody swears they're some kind of magic, and it's hard to dissuade such a notion when there are fairly common reports of ships on deep isolation missions, without making contact with anyone or anything else for years at a time, still one day find themselves with a pack of Cortix skittering about near their nutrition supplies!

This group of Humans, found the title amusing and have embraced it. One of them even made a hooded sweater with the name and a stylized Cortix jumping off the letter x.

The reason for the name is simple - despite becoming integrated into the Coalition just around a year ago, Humans seem to appear everywhere within this segment of the Galaxy. Mostly in small groups for tourism reasons, but the point still stands. And these Humans in particular appear to make it a habit to appear out of the most unexpected places.

The leaping portion comes from how this group tends to move around the communal areas. Most Humans adapt to the lower gravity and eventually (rather quickly actually) change how they move around when outside their embassy - the movements seem more relaxed, fluid, some even appear to exert almost no effort at all in their steps. This group on the other hand utilizes the full force of their incredibly dense musculature.

First, they jump good. Real good. Then they bounce and pivot, real fast. After a few days they started a game - get to any place without touching the floor. Not even a day later they managed to always be in the air.

At first it was impressive and quite mesmerizing. Quite a sight to behold as they got better and quicker at chaining their jumps and bounds together into one smooth motion that took them from one part of the station to the other in mere moments.

Then they started getting bored. And one of them had an idea. An "awesome" idea.

Add flying robots and moving obstacles.

Chaos ensued. Naturally.

As the Humans leapt off of one of the maintenance machines they programmed to hover between several distant structures, it could not compensate for the sudden recoil from the movement and crashed down on the floor. Thankfully it was above a small garden and only some artificial plants were damaged, as well as itself, but that was enough to call in the peacekeeping units to put a halt to their antics.

We deliberately brought a Human peacekeeper along to make the reprimand stick. The Leaping Cortix, most of whom are junior staffers and one is a retired military veteran now serving as a consultant, looked ashamed, but also sad. At least they seemed to understand the gravity of the situation (though perhaps not as well as the physics of gravity) as the wreckage was cleared in clear sight of everyone.

After the offending member was issued a token fine (as it was their first offense), the group as a whole became less active. Initially, most people felt relieved, but as the incident grew more distant in memory, the sight of the flying Humans started to become missed by quite a few.

Some from the more physically able races were even inspired to try this "parkour" the Humans had demonstrated and found it quite thrilling. When done in a lower than their normal gravity that is. Trying it at their standard caused a few broken bones and cracked shells.

There is currently a petition by the permanent residents to dedicate a large open indoor field for such extreme physical sports as well as to commission the design of a variety of machines to facilitate, as written in the official documentation - "stimulating courses to improve the physical well being and readiness of all participants".

I.E. - Humans introduced a new sport to us and many are hooked.

[regal-bones]

”A carcass. Decaying, and grey. The guts of the creature spilled across the landscape, rust eating at the metal pipes, and thickets of grass growing thick between shards of fallen debris. It sat at the centre of a great crater, the impact shifting the earth itself to a great ring of stone. Like a ripple in a pool of water set forever in unmoving rock. At the edge, a stranger looked outwards. Past the crash site, to the lush valley, the dense forests. Deep, rich lakes reflecting the sun, and stoic mountains looming in the distance. They wore a purple robe, tattered and old, and underneath the faded garb the gentle mechanics of their body ticked and whirred. Old machinery, forgotten machinery. The gentle beat of their processor in their chest was the only sound in the still land. Like a heartbeat - slow, steady, each pump pushed hot blood through the intricate web of piping that ran through their system. They shifted slightly, the sound of metal on metal could be heard, of glass vials clinking together from within their robe, and pistons compressing and extending. Even the subtlest of movements made a noise, unseen gears clicking and servos firing within their cold, steel bones, their metal fingers resting so softly in the grass. They looked outwards, and from under their weathered mask, a shaky sigh left the stranger. Such a human expression, they thought. How long had they been sitting there? They looked down to one of their legs, stretched out in front of them. Dandelions knitted themselves in between the intricacies of the sharp metallic shape, and tall grass sprouted from the motionless knee joint. A pale fungus, thin, with button-like caps, poked out of an open compartment. Within, a set of salvo missiles slept, a gentle blanket of spores dusting the warheads and lichen creeping over their ancient casings. Above them, it began to rain. The stranger looked up at the sky as the flecks of rain fell. Fat beads of water trailed down their steel mask, each lit with the brilliant blue light that leaked from the mask's visor and following the sharp geometry down to its chin, where they fell to the eager grass below. With a careful movement of their arm, the figure moved back their cloak to reveal something. Underneath the purple fabric, nestled within the robe, was another machine. The lifeless body of another robot. It was far smaller than the stranger. It had a small, spherical torso, two arms, and two boot-like legs. But, most notably, was its head - it looked just like a flower pot. Within the pot was neatly packed soil, and, softly, the rain fell on the coarse layer of dirt. The two sat, and the rain fell. The clouds churned above them, writhing, worming through the sky. Always moving, dancing, an endless parade across the vast stretch of sky. Far away, an eye opens. A wet, chesty cough, blood flecked phlegm working its way through a strained throat. The same rain falls on its hot, raw skin, and strained eyes gaze at the clouds. Over the distant canopy of trees, the sun dipped below the horizon. Night fell on the quiet carcass, and the stranger enjoyed this moment of silence. Who knows how long this peace might last?”

Watch the trailer for Last Sprout: A Seedling of Hope at this link! 🌱

You can support me on Patreon for £1 and see concept art, assets, and snippets of story for the game!

[baitpaintsbadly]

"The Thallax were specialised, cybernetically-augmented shock troops manufactured and principally used by the Ordo Reductor of the ancient Mechanicum. The particular augmentations undergone by one of the Thallax are both severe and extreme, retaining only the brain (and in many cases the skull and spinal column), the life-sustaining viscera and nervous system as the basis of the articulated and armoured robotic frame which encompasses it. Other principal features of the design included a high-energy compact reactor system (whose emanations could not be endured by a less augmented organic system), allowing for extremely potent portable weaponry to be utilised, embedded Incunabulan Jet-Pack systems and arcane implanted sensory apparatus operating outside the usual realm of organic perception.

The sinister blank-faced helms of the Thalaxii conceal an array of inhuman sensory apparati through which they experience the battlefield as a raging storm of electromagnetic turmoil, blood-heat and seismic percussion. However, for the organic brain to handle this hurricane of data, it must be surgically mutilated, removing the mere Human senses such as sight and hearing. The unfortunate side-effects of these systems on the living components, however, were continuous agony and psychotic breakdown; effects ameliorated by the surgical excision of some of the brain's emotional centres. For some within the Mechanicum this transformation of the Human mind skirted the edge of abomination such as that posed by sentient "Abominable Intelligence"

The resulting machine-creature is capable of far greater tactical flexibility and independent action than a mere combat servitor, although terminal deterioration of the subject's psyche was certain over extended periods of time."

The 6 Thallax from the HH Mechanicum box, which I will be using as Kataphron Breachers in 40k. These lads are my favourite unit from the Mechanicum range, both in looks and lore and I forever hope and wish they get legend-ed in to 40k (never happening I know, but a trooper can dream). I shoved them onto some 60mm bases to avoid any "modeling for advantage" accusations and I'm pleasantly surprised by how ok they look on the larger base size, I was worried they'd look a bit weedy but I think they fill the space well (though I am very biased). They have some really cool extra gun options, with the Phased Plasma Fusil's, Photon Thrusters and Multi-Melta's, but not enough to fill a whole squad with. I dont want to muddy the proxy waters any further than I am already, so they're all getting the same, still very cool, Lightning Guns that I can pretend are Heavy Arc Rifles. So I'll keep the fancy ones for future kitbashing. Pic with Skit for Scale under the cut.

Also, hello to my Dark Heresy players, sorry that this is how you find out what that one character actually is, try not to worry too much about it :) .

[thedoodwithamic]

My Transformers: ONE Verdict

Apart from the brief action-filled moments, Transformers: One becomes an even more poignant watch because of the story’s overarching narrative: the forming rift between Orion Pax and D-16. The movie definitely takes liberties with the origins of these characters but it still manages to weave them together to make a compelling story. 

The scene where they get their upgrades already paints the picture of Orion Pax and D-16’s falling out - that they’re starting to become too different from each other. Here, D-16 thinks they should annihilate Sentinel for what he did while Orion Pax thinks otherwise. 

The funny thing about a film like this is that it’s one of the last few features you’d expect to make you feel sad or cry. It’s a story about alien robots who work the tough shifts, turning into their war machine forms to cap off the story. Yet it makes you shed a tear because the story leans so much on the brotherhood of Optimus and Megatron early on. They’ll do anything for each other - they have arguments and disagreements but it was clear that they both wanted a brighter future for Cybertron and all of the Transformers. 

This actually reminds me of what happened to Professor X and Magneto in X-Men First Class - similar dynamics with sweet emotional payoffs as well.

The animation of the film is a huge plus. Transformers: One features some of the most vibrant environmental shots I’ve ever seen in animated features - and I’ve seen the Spiderverse animations. Cybertron is given a look that I never expected and it almost feels like a lovely blend of all the aesthetics that Transformers has ever used.  Finally -

My verdict for a film usually stems from how it made me feel and what it attempted to do for me. 

And it was everything that I've wanted from a Transformers film from the very start. It was on Cybertron, it was action packed and it added to the lore in its own way without copying everything straight-up from other sources. The movie features likable characters with understandable objectives, perfectly laced with spectacle for those that like seeing Transformers duke it out. 

Definitely a positive experience coming in to watch this film and I left the cinema buzzing about it even more. I’ve heard that this is going to be part of a new trilogy of Transformers films so I do hope that if that’s the case, they give us more stories within this part of the universe. 

Who knows? Maybe we’ll get more Optimus vs Megatron - we may get the combiners and hopefully the Dinobots as well because they would look badass in this universe.

[steviestits]

Yay for the return of WIP Weekend! I hope everything is working well at your place now!

🐙,🤡,🛁,🫵, and⁉️ please!!

Super excited for the wright worth ones! I haven't actually read any Phoenix wright fics, but I know I'll like yours 😁 You make me want to repay the games too!! Miles Edgeworth is such a fun character ❤️❤️

It is! -knocks on wood- Don't want to jinx myself, you know.

Aw, thanks! There are some really good case fics out there where they have whole new cases that WrightWorth solve instead of just copying and pasting from canon. They're such a fun read! You should. The games are so over the top, but I love them!

Wrightworth Circus Au

“Where is he?” Miles heard von Karma demand. “Tell me where he is, clown!”

No DL-6 Au

“You’re typically the one defending Larry,” Miles said instead. “What did the oaf do to finally lose your favor?” Phoenix’s frown deepened. “I don’t defend him that often.”

Steddie Big Bang

“I guess getting out of Hawkins maybe? Never really gave it much thought,” Eddie replied with a shrug. “If I want to do something then I do it.”

Mad Scientist Mer Eddie au

Gripping his human tighter, Eddie swam further into the vessel until he finally reached his lab. He’d put it together from what he’s learned while exploring the various mechanism that had sunken to the bottom of the sea. The machine, which filled the whole room, had three large compartments that were connected to each other with wires and tubes.

Warning! NSFW! Only read if you’re 18+!

Dystopia Spa Au

The one robot continued to pack mud onto Steve’s chest while another spread his legs then smoothed down the mud there until his dick was gone. Its arm then opened to reveal a dildo inside as it began to spin while the robot pressed the device between Steve’s leg. He felt the arm push into his body with no resistance, tunneling deep inside him to begin creating his new pussy.

Make Me Write

[wagrilous-23]

Hello everyone!

For those of you who liked my post from...last November my god-

Thank you so much! I really appreciate it! (I may go back to that idea in the future, but for now I'll stick with this) But....that's not the reason why I decided to finally post again after nearly a year of silence...after watching TADC Episode 3 (y'all should go watch it yourselves, it's amazing!), I've been...inspired.

I've come here to share my next idea, one that on paper, is absurd as all hell and will probably get me some hate because one of the pieces of this idea has the media that the greater internet still hates.

So, here goes...

I've been hyperfixated on two characters lately. One of them being the purple whimsy rabbit we all know, Jax!

The mischievous and jerkass rabbit who has both his devoted fans and a lot of haters! The new episode and the last episode really brought out the jerk he had underneath the ambiguous personality in the pilot, but that's besides the point...I feel like this fella has a lot of potential, it's just being in the Circus restricts his potential and ability to receive proper character development hinders him and keeps him as this nihilistic jerk. This idea of mine intends to give this rascal some nuance, and perhaps the idea of redemption too...

Now onto the character who while I see as badass and cool in his own right, he's definitely controversial because of the media he originates from.

Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Titan TV Man!

He is a titanic robot who serves the Alliance, and he's been fighting and making Skibidi Toilets self-flush since his debut! (Yeah, I like Skibidi Toilet because its epic now, screw the haters)

Titan TV Man has quite the personality, initially being cold, stoic, and more than happy to do things/fight on his own, though that had backfired in more ways than one.

His abilities include:

* Teleportation, which includes black smoke and white lightning; he also can use it offensively via teleporting his arm and use his blade to cut up his enemies when they're unaware.

* THX Red Screen of Death: this attack has his screen(s) glow red and cause anything that sees it to uh...unalive themselves, generally against their will.

* Retractable Back Claws: Those claws around his back aren't just for show, they function like springloads, folding up and then down over Titan TV Man's back to impale whoever's unlucky enough to be in front of him up close.

* Detachable Head and Shoulder TVs: While he only used this ability once and never again, he is capable of detaching his head to move on its own, packed with lasers, and his shoulder TVs to move too, with both being able to set an enemy on fire and mind-control them respectively.

- He's a powerhouse, but he also has a softer side; he shows to care for his fellow humongous Titans (see the series in full to see what they are like) and the smaller, normal sized Cameramen (the main protagonist faction) in this video here

He is basically the epitome of both an unstoppable war machine with straight up Sci-fi abilities and and gentle giant when the situation calls for it.

So now you all may be asking...why the hell would I think this guy and Jax of all people would make for a good duo?

Besides the obvious similarly between their motif color of purple, they are complete opposites in personality. TTVM (abbreviation I will use from now on) is strategic, stoic, yet caring to those around him, while Jax is a nihilistic, narcissistic, and bullying jerk who wishes for violence, but will try to run away when his life is genuinely in danger; but there are two things they share personality-wise:

They are both overconfident and believe they can do what they've set out to do (at least unlike Jax, TTVM can back it up) and whenever things don't go their way, they whine or straight up throw a tantrum, albeit a justified one for the Titan's case.

But I digress, one reason I feel like these two could make a good duo is through the idea that, somehow, someway, Jax finally escapes the Circus, only to end up in some post-apocalyptic landscape, and then he sees a large cloud of black smoke with the occasional lightning visible within, and out of it emerges TTVM, but he's also confused because he's not in any familiar territory anymore...both are now in an unknown world.

Spoiler: It is a multiversal event that had dragged them both to this world, and in this world, monsters roamed, and if they were going to survive, they'd have to stick together.

Monster Designs (by Rockho9 on Reddit)

This is the beginning of something I hope will get enough traction, and I'll reveal the title right now!

Bunny with a Vision AU!

(I can't draw for crap, so anyone who's interested in mayhaps making a few drawings or two based on interaction posts I make, you're free to!)

[p5x-theories]

YUI’s Confidant

(last updated 4/19/25!)

This post documents the fully filled-in information on YUI gained through progressing her Confidant! It contains things that could be considered spoilers for her Confidant, as part of the information is a summary of its story.

YUI is available in the nighttime most days, uniquely including rainy days. Her Confidant is tied to the Kindness social stat, and level 17 Kindness is required to fully complete it.

Favorite Presents

(An asterisk (*) marks the special presents added with (and unlocked through) Miyu Sahara’s Confidant, which are liked by all Confidants currently in the game.)

"Idol's Light" Trading Card The most popular game at the moment, where you play as an idol manager and train idols to debut in a group.

Magnet Necklace Necklaces made of magnets are said to be good for your health.

Mini Table Cactus This small potted cactus is a good table decoration.

Themed Flower Pot Lovely shaped flowerpot. Designed with an emphasis on practicality and style.

Latest Robotic Vacuum Cleaner New autonomous robotic vacuum cleaner. Both performance and intelligence have been significantly improved, making it suitable for people who aren't good at cleaning.

Glass Vase A colored glass vase. Just the right size to fit in the palm of your hand.

Handmade Flower Basket A carefully crafted flower basket. It can be used both as a decoration and to relax people.

Chocolate Truffles Carefully crafted 6-piece chocolate truffle set.

Designer Perfume Softly-scented designer perfume.

Watercolor Postcard Vivid picture postcard with a sense of air and clearness.

Limited-Edition Keychain* This keychain has a unique shape, and is well-made, but there weren’t many of it produced. It has a certain collector’s value.

Bulk Snacks Value Pack* A combo pack containing a variety of traditional snacks that will remind people of the taste of childhood.

Advanced Essential Oil Combination* A value-for-money set of essential oils, with multiple functions to help you relax your mind and body.

Chestnut Cake* Fragrant chestnut cake with mild sweetness to suit most people’s tastes.

Musical Snow Globe* A snow globe that plays music, and can be shaken gently to make snow fall inside.

Desktop Incense Machine* A household incense machine that is small in size, so it can be placed anywhere.

Personal Information

Pre-Version 4.0:

Birthday: November 5 Zodiac Sign: Scorpio Age: ?? Height: 158cm Weight: ?? Interests: Gardening Features: Farming, programming

Version 4.0:

Birthday: November 5 Blood Type: YUI! Age: That's a secret! Profession: You could call me... an owner of a lot of land, right? Height: 158cm Weight: About 5000MB? Favorite Food: It's potatoes! Interests: Cultivating plants! Features: I can do so many things!

Story

Character Details The mysterious girl who calls herself YUI has a lively, cheerful, and enthusiastic personality, but it always feels like she's a little too enthusiastic.

Personal Data 1 When first entering the Marutoku Virtual World, I met a girl who wanted to buy land. She wanted to purchase mine from me without any explanation, but she didn't seem to have thought about why she was buying it... After I asked, we decided to share the land as farmland to work together on, but I don't seem to be very good at farming...

Personal Data 2 YUI seems to be very enthusiastic about farming... After consulting with her, we decided to grow potatoes together, and she gave me the nickname "Baron". We went to a nearby street to buy seeds and fertilizer, and a man unexpectedly approached me. He seemed to want to warn me that YUI is a bit strange, but is that really the case?

Personal Data 3 As YUI and and I farm together more, I'm also getting more opportunities to learn about her. YUI shared a lot of things about her past with me, and we gradually became closer friends.

Personal Data 4 The potatoes gradually sprouted, and YUI and I began to imagine ways to cook potatoes in the future. YUI mentioned that she has a "friend" who always wants to eat fries and burgers, and hopes that I can meet with her and have fries together... but is she really just a friend...?

Personal Data 5 I met YUI's "friend" at a burger restaurant in Shibuya. Unexpectedly, the person I was meeting was an adult woman named Musubi Matsukata... She was clearly surprised that I was only a high school student, but we still ate a burger and fries together. While we ate, she shared a lot of her life story with me, and hoped that I could continue to be friends with YUI.

Personal Data 6 In the virtual world, YUI is working harder to help the potatoes grow, but there seemed to be a problem, and the plants grew sickly. After diligently investigating with YUI, we discovered that they're being eaten by animals... YUI blamed herself for the oversight, and logged off in despair... When will she come online again? When?

Personal Data 7 While waiting for YUI, I tried to drive the pests away and restore the vitality of the potatoes. Soon after, YUI returned to the game and was very happy to see the plants recover. My efforts were not in vain. Like the potatoes, YUI seems to have regained her motivation to farm. She thanked me profusely, and made a promise that we'll overcome difficulties together in the future.

Personal Data 8 YUI learned her lesson from the potato incident, and now started planting watermelons with a more positive attitude. Having regained her spirit, she hoped that I could help Musubi as well, and arranged plans for me to meet with Musubi again soon. But... Is Musubi Matsukata really just YUI's friend?

Personal Data 9 When I met with Musubi again, she seemed to be a lot more cheerful, and talked to me about many things in her work and life. Though she ran into a lot of troubles, she's survived them now. I went with her to the flower shop, and she bought a basil plant. The basil faced the sun, as Musubi hoped her own life would grow towards the sun from now on.

Personal Data 10 Back in the game, YUI became more active. She's begun to try to expand the scope of our land in the virtual world, wanting to have more and more. She told me that Musubi's life is gradually getting on the right track. She lives an active life, and seems to have found her goals in both the real and virtual worlds. She invited me to continue farming with her, and as a partner, I'll definitely continue to work with her.

Voice Lines

Japanese VA: Chika Anzai | Chinese VA: YiWen Chen

(As I can only add up to ten audio files per post, I’ll only include the Japanese lines below! Feel free to ask for the Chinese ones, though.)

I'm YUI! If there's anything you don't understand about the virtual world, please ask me!

Would you like me to introduce myself? I am me! Hearing isn't as good as seeing, so please watch and understand for yourself!

Plant a huge field, grow lots of delicious food, and then eat until I'm stuffed!

You're an incredible man, Baron! When I'm with you, I tell you all kinds of things about myself.

The things necessary for farming are endurance and love! Work hard and sweat, and fertilize with plenty of love, so that crops can grow strong!

Not too long ago, this place was bustling with people, but lately it's been a bit deserted. Fortunately, I have the Baron and our field, so I'm not lonely!

Speaking of my friend Musubi, the kanji for her name can also be read as "Yui"! Hahaha, our names are the same, I'm so happy!

Confidant-Specific Bonuses

Rank 1 Chat With Plants: Plant growth time reduced.

Rank 5 Befriend Plants: Unlock more flower pots and vegetable pots.

Rank 9 Response: Harvesting plants now has a chance to return seeds.

Rank 13 Gardening Experience: There is now a chance to harvest extra when harvesting plants.

Rank 17 Convey Your Voice: Plant growth time significantly reduced.

[laikas-storage]

bah packs #6 and #7 - mephone6 and mephone6+ (ii)

no discourrrse interrractions (incl. rrrelated tags), thanks!

these are meant forrr two of ourrr own frrragments, posted forrr archival and in case it's useful to anyone else.

---

pronouns: it/its, he/him

age: ageless adult

gender: masculine presenting, neurogender, xenogender, gendercollector, genderlabrat, gendersubject, genderexperiment, labratsubject, labratexperiment, deadlabrat, subwired, fictivesubject, experiwired, protectic

gender expanded: uses terms like bot/robot/machine, phone/smartphone and subject rather than gendered ones like boy/man, enby/enban, etc.

orientation: bisexual, objectum, ambiamorous

other labels: archetrope, posic+

archetropes: lab rat, test subject, experiment, undead

source: mephone6 (inanimate insanity)

roles/traits: protector

communication: [TYPES IN ALL CAPS. ADDS BRACKETS AROUND EACH PARAGRAPH.]

---

pronouns: it/its, he/him

age: ageless adult

gender: masculine presenting, neurogender, xenogender, gendercollector, genderlabrat, gendersubject, genderexperiment, labratsubject, labratexperiment, deadlabrat, subwired, fictivesubject, experiwired, protectic

gender expanded: uses terms like bot/robot/machine, phone/smartphone and subject rather than gendered ones like boy/man, enby/enban, etc.

orientation: bisexual, objectum, ambiamorous

other labels: archetrope, posic+

archetropes: lab rat, test subject, experiment, undead

source: mephone6+ (inanimate insanity)

roles/traits: protector

communication: !!TYPES IN ALL CAPS. !!ATTACHES AN DOUBLE EXCLAMATION BEFORE EACH SENTENCE.

[rayray2390]

AA Clint Barton x Reader

Part 11: Crack in the system

It’s been a crazy month for us at Avengers tower. We’ve been collecting the six infinity stones making sure they didn’t end up in an evil aliens hands, his name was Thanos and I’ve never been more scared in my life. Once we defeated him the contingency plan was to have Tony’s robot Arsenal hold the stones powers to keep them away from anyone who wanted that power. But Arsenal turned into Ultron who faced the team before in the past. That was a week ago and we’ve heard nothing about Ultron for a while and it’s making me uneasy how everyone is so calm about this. I can tell Cap feels the same way, and it’s starting to cause strain between him and Tony. Right now we’re having a barbecue on the roof and Thor uses his lightning as a power source to cook the meat faster. I’m on the side sitting in the shade of an umbrella I brought reading a book. “Aw come on!” I hear Clint complain and when I look over at his direction I see Hulk has eaten all the hotdogs.

I chuckle and go back to my book. “There’s nothing sadder than a hungry man whose hot dog just got hulked.” I mutter under my breath. I read a few more pages of my book and feel someone sit next to me. When I look over to them I notice it’s Natasha. “Hey Nat, what’s up?” I say with a smile.

She gives a small smile back, when I joined she always gave me the cold shoulder but now that I’ve been on the team for a year she’s warmed up to me. “Oh nothing much. I just wanted to know what you and Clint are doing for your anniversary.”

“Shit, it’s been a year already?” My smile gets bigger at the thought, I set my book to the side and sit up. It feels like yesterday when me and Clint got together, now we’re heading into our one year together. “Honestly I have no idea. I wasn’t even sure on what to get him.”

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, I’m sure if you got him a rock he’d be happy.” Her words get me to laugh a little, but it’s true. Clint would definitely be happy with anything. “And just a heads up he’s totally going to make your anniversary memorable.” I believe her for that, every date me and Clint have been on he’s put more effort into our dates than my ex ever did. Honestly I’m more excited for this than I was for anything in my past.

Multiple explosions interrupt our peace and me and Nat go to join the rest of the team to look down at the city to see what’s causing the explosions. What we see catches me off guard, it’s a giant robot walking on four legs heading towards the tower. “Mission- Destroy Avengers.” It says loudly and shoots a small missile at the building causing it to shake.

The machine starts to climb onto the building and Tony takes off in his suit while Cap is on a hover cycle. I take my web shooters out of my pockets and put them onto my wrists while loading them with new webbing. “Quick, vicious, and concise. This has all the signs of an Ultron attack.” I say as Clint pulls out his bow and arrow.

Clint points it at the machine with the red light shinning on the end of the arrow. “I wouldn’t bet against Tony’s tech.”

“I thought Ultron was locked in Arsenal’s body.” Sam says from above with his wing pack on. He throws some of his wings down onto the machine but it does little damage.

“He’s an artificial intelligence that works like a computer virus.” Cap’s voice comes through on our coms. “He can take over all kinds of tech.” Cap throws his shield at the machine and it bounces off and flies back to him.

“If there’s a chance this is Ultron, shouldn’t we treat it like it is, you know just in case?” Sam asks as he makes his way down to join Cap and Tony.

“For fun let’s pretend it is. Activating Ultron protocols.” Tony’s command makes the whole building go into lockdown mode. “All tower data access is shut down.

“What about your suit?” I press on the button on the com in my ear to talk to Tony.

“Of course. I’m now a completely isolated local system.” Tony says.

Sam throws more wings at the machine. “And the rest of us?”

“Ultron can infiltrate anything tech,” Tony starts. “So make sure you don’t get into a game of tag, your it.” Tony shoots some missiles at the machine and it does more damage.

“Don’t have to remind me not to play games.” Cap jumps off his cycle and lets it crash into the machine. He succeeds in landing on it and uses his shield to destroy any of the rays blasting at him. The machine gets the better of him by blasting him from behind making Cap fall, but thankfully Sam catches him. It continues its ascend to the top of the tower.

Thor flies down the tower with his hammer and starts hitting the machine. “In Asgard, the penalties for going where you are not invited are harsh.” Thor is able to knock the machine down so it’s not as high as it was.

“That’s right buddy. Find your own barbecue.” Clint says as he shoots the ice arrow at the machine. This makes it fall to the ground but it shoots out one last beam at the tower where me, Nat, and Clint were standing.

The ground beneath us crumbles and we fall along with the robot. I shoot my webs at the robot and pull my self on top of one of its guns. “Here’s a tip: Don’t taunt the robot!”

“Lesson learned.” Clint says as we land harshly on the ground. The robot charges at Clint and before I can move Hulk makes his way and stops the robot before it could do more damage. “This does not make up for stealing all the hot dogs.” Hulk throws the machine far enough back for him and Clint to dodge any of its blasts.

Sam flies above the robot and scans for weaknesses. “The shielding is vulnerable in the middle of the legs. Let’s cut this thing off at the knees.”

“Already on it.” I run towards the robot and shoot a web near its knee. Nat hands me a small explosive as I pull myself onto the robot. I have enough time to stick it to the knee and get off of it just in time as Thor, Tony and Clint find ways to destroy the knees as well. There are four explosions and the robot lays on the ground defeated.

Tony lands on the ground safely and we all gather around him. “If this had been an Ultron attack, my app would have picked it up a mile away.” I am so tired of hearing about this so called great app he’s been working on, it keeps everything in me to not roll my eyes at him.

“Ultron’s more than just a computer virus.” Sam says. “He’s smart. Could he figure out a way to fool your detector?”

“Of course not, I created it.” There Tony goes again. But his next words make me really question him. “Whose side are you on?”

“Sam’s got a point.” Cap says stepping forward. “Anything you can throw at Ultron, he can throw right back.”

“You guys act like I’ve never met Ultron before.” Tony says sounding so sure of himself. “My app compensates for his smarts. Remember, he’s not the only high tech villain out there who wants to take down the avengers.” Tony walks over to the robot and takes out its main computer system and turns back to us with it in hand. “Let’s find out who sent this party crasher.”

—————

“You ok babe?” Clint asks me as we make our way back to the tower.

“Hmm? Yeah I’m fine.” I cross my arms and continue to walk as the team makes their way to Tony’s lab.

Clint wraps an arm around my shoulders and stops me from walking. Once the team is in Tony’s lab he speaks in a hushed tone. “Are you sure? Because you only cross your arms when you’re deep in thought. Talk to me.” He rubs his thumb lightly on my shoulders and it relaxes me a little.

“Have you noticed that Cap and Tony have some tension between them?”

His eyebrows furrow at my question and I bite my lip thinking I was just being paranoid. He notices this and gives me a reassuring smile. “Yeah there might be some tension. But this is Cap and Tony, they’ll work things out.” I give him a look that silently tells him I don’t believe him. “I know you’ve only been on the team for a little over a year now but I’ve been working with them for years there’s always going to be some tension.”

I uncross my arms and run a hand through my hair letting out a small sigh. “Yeah you’re right. I guess it’s just me still getting used to being on a team.”

Clint smiles and takes my hand in his and leads me to Tony’s lab. “Trust me this tension will cease to exist in no time.”

As we walk into the lab we see the team surrounding a screen with the computer system from the robot projected. “I’ll trust your app can detect Ultron,” Cap says. “But once we detect him, can we stop him?”

“I wouldn’t be a very good Tony Stark if I hadn’t thought of that.” Tony walks over to the screen and presses a few buttons which brings up an image of a triangle with a circle in the middle and three on the outside. “This piece of malware is the Ultron Destroyer. I’ll give you one guess what it does.”

“And he’s just going to invite you into his system to install it?” Nat asks placing a hand on her hip.

“That’s the beauty of having back door access to Arsenal.” Tony says with a smile. “The second Ultron shows I upload this and the Ultron intelligence goes bye, bye.”

“Will Arsenal survive?” I ask getting closer to Tony. I knew that the robot meant a lot to him, his father programmed that for him after all.

“Unlikely.” His smile falls a little but I can tell he’s keeping the pain down.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to pull the trigger?” Nat asks with concern. “Maybe someone else should hang onto the Ultron Destroyer.”

“Nay!” Thor immediately protests. “Arsenal is Stark’s father’s legacy. If someone must destroy the machine, it should be Stark. It is a matter of family honor.”

“I’ll do what I have to do.” Tony says.

We all look at each other not sure if he’s really ok with that. After a minute Sam speaks up. “You sure, Tony?”

Before Tony could answer Cap speaks. “Enough. He’s an avenger. If you say you can handle it, I believe you.”

“Thanks Cap.” Tony says gently. Clint nudges my elbow and smiles at me as if saying ‘I told you so’.

Sam looks at the computer part and brings up two new screens. “Tony you were right. The circuitry on this thing is specific to one manufacturer.”

Nat goes over and combines the two screens bringing up a new circuit board. “Hammer Industries. And this models only manufactured at one facility.” I internally shudder at the thought of seeing Justin Hammer again. The last time we met he was a bit of a creep.

“Well you can’t teach an old Justin Hammer new tricks.” Tony’s usual smile returned to his face. “And I’m not waiting for an invitation.”

—————

It doesn’t take long for us to get to Hammer’s old facility with the Avenjet. It’s the same one we came to when he built the Adaptoid, but he moved sometime ago. “How long has it been since Hammer used this place?” I ask.

“Government intelligence says the place is still active.” Nat answers.

Clint crosses his arms with a smile and looks at Nat. “Looks like your intelligence isn’t so intelligent, guess Hammer shut everything down and ran.”

There’s a loud explosion from the buildings roof, then a giant robot lands in front of us with a red color scheme. Next a bunch of little robots join at its side and Nat gives Clint an offensive look. “Don’t ever question my intelligence.”

“Point taken.” Clint says as he draws his bow and arrow.

The robots begin to fire at us and the team dodges as much as they can. I shoot some webbing at a small group of them but their blasts easily cut through them. “Hammer’s never been this aggressive. He’s changed his tactics.” Cap points out as he uses his shield to knock down the robots I shot my webs at. “Focus your attacks on the big guy. Looks like he’s controlling the rest of them.”

“And it looks like there’s somebody inside of it.” Sam says as he scans the big robot.

“Could Hammer be trying a version of his own Iron man suit?” I ask Tony as the robots begin to fire at us again. I try jumping onto one of the robots but it flings me into the facility making me hit my head. Clint finishes off his own group of robots and runs over to help me up.

Tony scoffs. “Figures. Hammer wouldn’t risk the time and money to develop his own design if he could steal someone else’s. Usually mine.” He flies over to the giant robot and shoots his own repulser beams.

“Break these dreadnoughts apart. If they’re in pieces Hammer can’t control them.” Cap orders to the team. We’re able to knock a few of them out on our own but more just come our way.

Tony is able to get the giant robot down and there’s a window for us to see Hammer in it. “Stark, help. Get me out of this thing.” Hammer sounded desperate.

“What?” Before Tony could question anything further the robots begin stands again and knocks him into the building.

“That wasn’t me. My robots just started acting on their own.” The robot continues to stand straighter as the rest of us surround it not letting our guards down. “This experimental battle armor formed around me and I’m trapped in here. I can’t control anything.”

“Yeah, what about the giant robot that attacked Avengers tower?” Sam asks as he lands next to me.

The robot throws a punch put way but we easily dodge it. “That’s where it went?” Hammer asks sounding genuinely confused.

“Why should we trust you?” Cap asks.

I see Nat hacking into one of the robots and a screen pops up showing that Hammer is telling the truth. “He’s telling the truth.”

On the coms I hear Tony speak. “Imagine that, Hammer not lying.”

“Hammer’s got this whole place on a closed network.” Sam says. “If we blast the source, it’ll fry computers dreadnoughts, the big guy, everything.”

“No! I asked you to help, not destroy my entire company.” Hammer immediately goes against what we’re planning. The robots we

“This isn’t a corporate negotiation.” Tony says seriously. “Thor, impress us with your grilling skills.”

“Everyone loves a cookout.” Thor smiles and waves his hammer in the air. Once it’s charged enough he slams it to the ground causing the ground to shake and the lightning to fry all the robots.

“I’m ruined.” Hammer says as the robot he’s in falls to its knees. “You’ll answer to my board Stark.” Tony walks over to him and helps Hammer out of the contraption. “I’ll own Stark Industries after this.”

“I’ve never heard anyone say thank you like that before.” Tony says. “And before anyone asks again, no this wasn’t Ultron. All tech has a signature if you know how to trace it.” We all gather around Tony and Nat brings up a screen on her blasters to see what Tony sees. “This one for example leads right to-“

“A.I.M.” Nat finishes for him. “It’s not in Shield files, it must be a secret base.”

“Advance Idea Mechanics, evil tech organization not connected to Ultron.” Tony objects believing Nat was wrong.

—————

We end up flying the Avenjet to the coordinates anyway despite Tony’s protests. We end up arriving on a deserted island with Nat leading the way. “Why do evil scientists always live on beautiful tropical islands?” Clint mutters to himself. “Why don’t we live on a beautiful tropical island?”

“Tropical islands don’t have pizza, remember? We went over this.” I tell him with a smile and he matches mine.

“The main base has a blind side.” Nat states interrupting our conversation. “There’s no entrance so it’s not guarded. But scans indicate a weak spot in the exterior wall.”

“So we blast our way in.” Clint says.

“No, smash.” Hulk says putting his fist into his palm.

Cap quickly shuts down those ideas. “We can’t be reckless. A.I.M will have defenses at the ready.”

“And despite Tony’s confidence,” I say. “I still think Ultron could be behind this.”

Thor immediately comes to Tony’s defense. “Tony Stark would never be outsmarted by a mere robot. Hulk on the other hand-“ Thor gestures to Hulk and he responds by hitting the tree they stand by making a coconut fall on Thor’s head his helmet protecting him.

We continue to walk towards where we think the hideout is with Cap leading us this time. “A.I.M had the advantage of an entrenched position. We’re better off splitting up and targeting all sides at once.”

“Why play it safe?” Clint questions. “Sorry Cap, I think I’m on Tony’s side.”

I raise an eyebrow at Clint’s confession. “Again, there are sides?” I could never choose between Cap or Tony, I’ve always been able to work on both their plans. But his words somehow send a gust of betrayal my way.

He gives me a regretful look, but he doesn’t get to say anything because a voice interrupts our conversation. “There are always sides.” We look around and are already on guard. We don’t see him anywhere but his voice is everywhere. “And humans are on the losing one.” Guns begin to pop out of nowhere and point in our direction, most of them with a screen and Ultron’s face on them. “The Avengers’ organic data is to be purged.”

“You said your scanners didn’t detect him.” Cap says to Tony. Tony doesn’t at all respond to what Cap says, nor does he respond to the guns firing at us.

“So much for your Ultron detector, Tony.” Nat says.

“Told you Ultron could find a way to trick the system.” Sam says.

I shoot some of my webs at the guns to stop them from firing, while Clint shoots whatever arrows he has at the ones on my opposite end. “Now’s not really the time for I-told-you-so’s.” Clint says and we both duck at a some new firing coming our way.

“Hulk can you get me to hire ground.” Clint asks.

“What do you think?” Hulk asks as he takes Clint and jumps to a higher place.

I make my way to Tony who’s not making a move to avoid the firing. “You knew Ultron was here, didn’t you?” My voice comes out more harsh than I intended.

“Look I had a suspicion, but it was only a faint reading. He’s outsmarting my detector.” Tony says and it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking when he has his suit on.

Cap comes over and covers us with his shield. “If you know where he is, then upload the Ultron Destroyer.”

“I can’t he’s evading my scans.” Tony uses his repulser to fire back at the guns. “I need to make physical contact with his body. Back me up.”

“Get to the base, we’ll cover you.” I say putting as much trust as I can into Tony. At this point I don’t know if I can trust him anymore. If he knew something he should’ve said something.

—————

It didn’t take long for us to finish up outside and follow Tony into the base. When we get there Tony is on the ground being smashed by giant mechanical snakes controlled by Ultron who’s hooked up to a machine. “Tony, you get Ultron we’ll take care of the snakes.” Cap says.

Ultron unplugs from the machine and flies towards Tony as he does the same. We fight the snakes without many problems but as we fight I look over and Tony is loosing to Ultron. When Cap finishes with his snake he throws his shield at Ultron and calls out to him. “You fight one of us, you fight us all.”

“Very well.” Ultron says as he flies down and attacks all of us one by one while Tony hangs from the wires Ultron was just at. I shoot some webs over his eyes but it does no good, he takes the webs off his eyes like it’s nothing and knocks me to the side. Clint shoots several explosive arrows but it does no damage. “Loyalty or a lost cause appears admirable to you humans.” Ultron blasts Clint knocking him down next to me. “In reality, it is inefficient.”

“I’ll choose loyalty over efficiency any day.” Cap says as he throws his shield at Ultron.

Hulk joins his side and throws Ultron to the side. “I’m with Cap.”

We all do our best to fight off Ultron as Tony is able to free himself from the wires. With our combined attacks we’re able to do some damage to Ultron, but it’s not enough. Ultron holds out his hands getting ready to blast us. “Seven human viruses ready to be eradicated.”

“Something about humanity you’ll never understand, Ultron.” Cap says as he slowly gets off the ground.

“Enlighten me.” Ultron says as his hands get brighter.

I see Tony in the background grab his Ultron Destroyer from the ground and quietly makes his way towards Ultron. Cap continues his speech. “Friends, they always have your back.” Just as he finished Tony snuck behind Ultron and placed the destroyer on his back causing Ultron to fall to the ground. Tony presses a button on his device making Cap and the rest of us worried. Cap is the first to approach him. “What are you doing Tony? You destroyed Ultron, right?”

“Not exactly.” Tony says with no other elaboration.

“How not exactly are we talking here?” I ask stepping closer to stand next to Cap.

“I didn’t use the Ultron Destroyer to its full potential, only about 95% should knock out Ultron long enough to save Arsenal.” Tony says as he continues to work.

My eyes widen at Tony’s words. He said he could do it and completely lied to our faces. “Tony, you assured us you would take down Ultron when you found him.” Cap says feeling just as infuriated as I am.

“No I assured you I would do what was necessary. I can fix this.” Tony says.

“We know Arsenal is important to you,” I say stepping in with urgency in my voice. “But we’re talking about the safety of the world here.”

“I need you to trust me. I can stop Ultron and save Arsenal.” Tony get’s deeper into Arsenal’s motherboard.

“Just fry him now before he reboots.” I say growing angry.

“Nat how many times does Tony have to save the planet before you trust him?” Clint said joining the conversation. “He’s got this.” I can’t believe he’s ok with this. I know I should trust Tony but this feels like everything is being torn apart in front of me.

“Just eleven more seconds.” Arsenals voice comes through with a ‘Hello Tony’ followed bu Ultron’s ‘Goodbye Tony’. Ultron blasts Tony sending him flying back towards us.

“Pathetic human emotions have rendered you ineffective, Stark.” Ultron says as he stands to his full height fully recovered. “Ultron lives.” He presses a button on his wrist causing a self destruct system to the base. He’s able to escape through a trap door in the floor leaving us in the building.

“There’s no time to track him.” Cap says with urgency in his voice. “Avengers pull back.”

“Way ahead of you Cap.” Nat says as she presses some buttons on her stingers. “Avenjet’s on its way.” The Avenjet gets there in time and we’re able to get in and escape the base as it explodes behind us.

—————

When we get back to the tower Cap and Tony have an argument which causes Cap to quit the team. I’ve never seen anything this bad with them, there’s no trust anymore with Tony and I don’t know how to feel about that. As I make my way to my room I remember that Clint sided with Tony the whole time, and while I loved the man- wait do I love him? Of course I do, but today’s been exhausted and I can’t even think about telling him that now, especially when he sided with Tony. I reach for the handle of my door when I hear my name. “Hey Spidey.” I turn around and see Clint with a sheepish smile on his face. “Can we talk? I know today’s been exhausting but I wanted to explain myself for earlier.”

“Yeah we can talk.”

“I just want you know, no matter what happens between the team I don’t want it to affect us. I mean who knows how bad it could get with them, but when it comes to you I don’t want to lose you.” I can hear the genuine concern in his voice and after today I needed to hear those words. “Plus it’d be pretty sucky if we broke up before our anniversary.” He laughs softly and I join him on that.

“I agree, and I don’t want what the team’s going through to screw us up either. Just promise you wont side against me.”

He takes my hand and raises it and presses a small kiss to the back of it. “I promise.”

[cartoonygothopossum]

Wallace and Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl

It was a nice surprise to find out that there would be a new Wallace and Gromit movie coming, sixteen years after the most recent short film, A Matter of Loaf and Death. I saw a trailer for the new movie just once, but I didn't know the movie's exact release date. I just knew that it would be released on Netflix at some point.

Though the time period in the previous Wallace and Gromit films wasn't clear to me, it looks like this particular movie took place close to our current era. This movie was, perhaps, the first time I ever saw Wallace using a computer. His smart gnome, Norbot, kinda made me think of voice assistants that exist in real life. Yes, this movie did use the "robots/artificial intelligence turn evil" trope, but in this case, it made sense, since Norbot was purposely reprogrammed to be evil. I thought it was interesting how even in "evil mode", the Norbots maintained a friendly, helpful presence around Wallace.

Having recently re-watched the Wallace and Gromit short film, The Wrong Trousers, I could see some similarities between that film and this movie. I could understand why Wallace was putting so much attention on Norbot, as, like in The Wrong Trousers, he needed money to pay the bills. But still, poor Gromit, feeling left out and annoyed with Norbot's noisy charging. Of course, I also felt bad for Wallace, when his neighbors got upset and started accusing him of stealing their stuff.

While it didn't surprise me that Feathers McGraw, the thieving penguin from The Wrong Trousers, would plot his revenge, I wondered how he was able to switch the diamond with a turnip while he was tied up. Someone definitely should've checked the sack, before it was even taken to the police! I saw it coming, but I still thought it was clever how Gromit managed to switch the diamond with a turnip when he seemingly gave the jewel away to Feathers.

I was glad that Norbot and his army of gnomes were restored to their helpful default personality and saved Gromit from falling. I was happy for Wallace when his name was finally cleared, and he petted Gromit with his own hand, realizing that machines can't replace human touch. Overall, it was wholesome and action-packed, like the previous Wallace and Gromit films.

[satoshi-mochida]

Game Boy - Nintendo Switch Online adds Mega Man I, II, III, IV, and V - Gematsu

The Game Boy – Nintendo Switch Online app has added Mega Man, Mega Man II, Mega Man III, Mega Man IV, and Mega Man V, Nintendo announced.

Here is an overview of each game, via Nintendo:

Mega Man: Dr. Wily’s Revenge – Dr. Wily is out for revenge, and this time he’s created his own “Mega Man Killer”! With this creation and his revived Robot Masters at his side, the bad doctor plans to embark on a quest for global domination. Play as Mega Man in his first portable adventure and save the world from destruction by sending Dr. Wily’s creations back to the trash heap.

Mega Man II – Dr. Wily has stolen the experimental Time Skimmer, which allows him to travel to the future for nefarious ends. Luckily, Mega Man and his trusty robot dog Rush are on the case! Collect items and power ups to defeat the Robot Masters standing between you and Dr. Wily—including a mysterious foe from the future: Quint!

Mega Man III – Mega Man’s battle against Dr. Wily takes him to the hottest place on Earth! Dr. Wily and his renegade robots are drilling to the planet’s molten core to collect energy that will power his latest evil invention. Join Mega Man and Rush in action packed levels through the sinister scientist’s fortress, battling various Robot Masters and collecting their weapons before facing Dr. Wily and his ultimate creation.

Mega Man IV – The World Robot Expo has been crashed by the deranged Dr. Wily! With the push of a button on his mind-controlling device, Dr. Wily turns all robots in the city into his personal rampaging reinforcements. The only robot not under his control is Mega Man, and together with Rush he plans to put a stop to Dr. Wily’s sneaky schemes once more! Collect power ups, blast Robot Masters and assemble circuits to build a powerful ally named Beat. Can this trio save the day, or will Dr. Wily’s mind-control machine be Mega Man’s downfall?

Mega Man V – During a peaceful outing with his sister Roll, Mega Man is attacked by a powerful robot named Terra who heralds an invasion of robots from space to conquer Earth. After regrouping in Dr. Light’s laboratory, Mega Man sets off to save the day with a powerful weapon—the Mega Arm! Battle through waves of cosmic foes, employ weapon upgrades, and call in companions to assist as you and solve the mystery behind this alien attack.

Watch a trailer below.

June 2024 Game Updates

English

Japanese