#but the way he. on the one hand thinks of regular human functions in robotic terms about himself...and then considers parental instinct

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Just feel like talking a little about interesting behaviours that have come out of this version of Tenma I'm writing in my fic. Specifically, about his relationship to "parental instinct". There are two passages that made me think about it, as follows:

In this state, Hiroshi could not comfort his child. Tenma wasn’t sure that he could, either. But… He put his hands on her shoulders, then gently drew her closer. This – it felt familiar, painful. But she fit there in his arms just as Atom, just as Tobio; and he was filled with it, some kind of an automatic instinct that told him this was what he was supposed to do.

In the first he's only really conscious of it in passing; the urge that he should hug Uran is strange and alien. "It" - something that sounds ominous to him.

Tenma could feel it again, that same sense of urgency as when Uran had run to him for comfort. It was a piece of human programming that had a superseding power, the kind that demanded he follow it above all else. Right now, it urged him toward Atom.

And then there's this one; he's more aware of it happening now, and associates it with programming that overrides his natural state of being. Like he's being puppeted.

It's just an interesting thought process that I like thinking about. He definitely has parental instinct, but it's been repressed so much for obvious reasons and is associated mostly with pain and failure. So he almost can't think of it as something internal to him, and instead views it as something that takes over him. Like it's a computer virus, like mind control. Something that "happens" to him - he's not responsible for those feelings and can safely separate himself. And even though it's generally a positive force (telling him that he should be comforting Uran and Atom respectively) he kind of hates it. Probably because he knows it's a part of him.

I dunno, just interesting things that have worked their way into writing Tenma.

[artificervaldi]

ignore how im so unfamiliar with using the ask button that i hit unfollow and had to immediately refollow ANYWAY i barely know anytihng about xenoblade but ill bite tell me more about xenoblade bas and rella and junah if you have any thoughts for her [flutters my eyelashes]

Nw LMAO, happens 2 the best of us!

Okay so I'm giving you XC1 and XC2 for now bc I'm tired and gonna use so many images that doing 3 and X too would just be TOO MUCH for me rn. Under the cut wahoo!

XC1:

Basilio would be a Homs (think like regular humans but probably have a third lung) and one of few survivors of the Mechon (robots that use Homs as fuel mmm yummy) from a Colony that got destroyed by Mechon. He lives with his brother Del, probably a pretty nomadic life, looking for a place to just call home. Hard when these machines keep coming.

Since he's party member number 7 I have to be silly with it and say at some point the Mechon get him but watch out! He gets turned into a Face Core Unit (see image below), which is like. A Homs turned into the core of a Mechon made to not get cut down by the legendary Monado.

The reunion would be emotional, to say the least, when he was discovered to be alive. I think he would have some major "if I die it's okay so long as I protect those around me with the life I have left" vibes like Seven from Xenoblade so it Works!

Rella on the other hand would be a High Entia, a full-blooded one at that. The Cygnus line is a long lived one and proud of their heritage, no Homs blood here (at least not directly).

Only issue here is... The Telethia gene. Pureblooded Entia like Rella can and will turn into the monsters known as Telethia if enough ether is introduced. Yeah, sorry, we're turning Rella into a mindless monster. Sorry.

On the bright side she probably regains enough of herself for a big sacrifice to ensure Junah makes it into whatever lies ahead. Or she can survive and eventually when Telethia Get Solved if they ever do she can be back.

Junah meanwhile is a Homs girl adopted by House Cygnus. Given High Entia live like 5x longer than Homs this is like. Less a good will move and seen more as like "oh you're keeping your daughter entertained with a little pet how nice" esp bc Rella is likely well into adulthood when Junah is a wee bab here.

Junah ofc adores her older sister and while she's vaguely aware of what she's seen as she tries to look on the bright side. Rella sses her as a real sister and that's all that matters to her.

So I went with Entia Rella bc like. Look at them. WINGS ON DA HEAD. RELLA CODED FR. But I'm biased and think she would also make an excellent Machina

So there's options there.

XC2:

Basilio here is a flesh-eater. The simple explanation is there's these things called Blades -- they're basically hyper-advanced biocomputers that look humanoid (or sometimes like beasts) and then there are humans. If they injest the flesh of a human in some way they become a flesh eater, which boosts their abilities but can also leave them more likely to get weathered by the years.

Blades usually "reset" upon the death of their Drivers (people who awaken them and allow them to function, with each death acting as a memory wipe for the Blade) while Flesh Eaters do not forget. So Basilio remembers his last Driver -- his "brother" Fidelio.

Fidelio was a Gormotti (cat people only they only have the ears), so Basilio is able to disguise himself as one so long as he keeps his Core Crystal (Blade Brain) covered so no one sees the red in it (which means he Ate A Guy). He carries on to achieve his and Del's dream.

Rella... I'm gonna go with Indoline for the religious trauma and guilt angle. The indoline are the humans that act as the religious center of the world of Alrest, so I could see her being in the praetorium, though I doubt she's a bit fan of Praetor... probably Forden in this case LOL.

A Driver, noted for not treating Blades as property or tools like most and instead seeing them as individuals like anyone else. This is, like her non-racist stance in canon, is not the norm. But she's doing her best :)

Junah is her Blade and like a sister to her! Probably an Attacker type with a special fan-like weapon. Junah's lived many a life before and even has journals of some of the past ones. She likes to keep up to date.

Fairly closed off, she prefers it that way. The less people expect of her the better a jump she can get on them. Has a soft spot for Rella, though.

[parasitesiren]

[I find it interesting that Troy has regular ink tattoos under his siren tattoos on his shoulder. It wouldn't make any sense to try to tattoo on top of the siren tattoos, so it seems implied to me that the ink tattoos came first, which makes me think he got them at a very young age.

I think Tyreen got her siren powers at roughly the same age the Angel did, maybe a little older. I'd place Tyreen getting her powers at maybe 10 years old? And Troy getting his at the same time. It seems like siren tattoos are implied to come on suddenly, but Troy's a weird exception to all the rules anyway with his spreading to him from Tyreen, so I think, while hers were sudden, his slowly grew. It started just at his wrist and took years before it spread all the way up his arm and to his face. He was maybe 16 by the time the tattoo growth finished.

I think he got his ink tattoos around 14 or 15, while still living on his home planet. But, his home planet was devoid of any other humans and had limited technology. In universe, it seems tattoos would be as easy as the way they change hair styles or get cosmetic surgeries; you use the Quick Change machines for everything, plug in the settings you want, have your appearance changed instantly and painlessly.

But, I can't see there being a quick change machine on his home planet of Nekrotafeyo. There's some limited technology, but most of what we see in game seems to be taken from Maliwan, a corporation that hadn't infested Nekrotafeyo until long after Troy left home. But, he was definitely a reader as a kid, and his dad canonically has huge stacks of books.

What I'm saying is, I think he read about how people used to do tattoos back in the old days and started doing stick and pokes on his arm. He probably modded part of his robotic prosthetic arm to have a tattoo gun type of function.

Coming to Pandora, he had the option of quick, painless, perfect tattoos for the rest of his work, but he's never taken it. All his tattoos are done by hand. He offers his talent to select high level subscribers of the cult if they're interested in going through the pain and time consumption to prove their commitment to the family.

(His piercings, however, are all Quick Change station, as the majority of them are dermal piercings with a high chance of rejection if done improperly.)

NSFW talk under the cut:

Troy has multiple piercings along the underside of his cock, similar to the ones on his arm (though slightly more smooth, less sharp edges.) These were also Quick Change station, programmed in when he selected all the other cosmetic aspects of his dick. Yes, I'm committing to afab Troy as blog canon.]

[pinkopalina]

I keep thinking about robostone maintenence hrrggrgrghhh Robotnik sticking his fingers into places they really shouldn't be if Stone were a regular human. Arghh my brain isn't giving me any good ideas man. But I keep thinking about Robotnik running his fingers over Stone's skin, pushing hidden buttons to reset joints and test connections. Stone pretends to be calm about it, it's just his routine maintenance- but the excitement he gets from feeling the doctors hands all over him and poking at little spots that could literally undo him- the little shocks through his system as the doctor tweaks at his internal cabling-

ugh I love all of this!! :3

now imagine stone actually sustaining like some serious damage in a fight. like he's not a fighter, but he is a protector. even if the doctor is more well trained than he is, he can still toss a bad guy (hehe, what is stone's idea of a bad guy?) or turn their own weapon against them so he and robotnik can get away.

readmore for gore. I mean cybergore but stone is still my baby and I'm still talking (somewhat) medical here 🥺

I'm imagining some nasty slash on stone's arm and the only way to fix it would be for robotnik to go into surgical mode, more or less. the robotics are so organically advanced, that they heal like humans. it takes time and stone probably won't die from his injuries, the worst case scenario would probably be that robotnik has all his data backed up daily just in case and maybe he has some spare stone parts lying around or like entire shells, just in case. wouldn't that be fun? but this arm is gushing out blood-adjacent oxygenated lubricant and some of the mechano-muscular-skeletal structure is compromised so we gotta focus on saving that now.

(I'm imagining eggman in kind of, that mechanic outfit, where he's just got a tank top on and some overalls tied off at the waist? if he's doing some repair work? 🤤👉👈)

so stone holds his arm out for the doctor to start operating and he COULD feel pain during this whole process. but robotnik presses on a combination of pressure points on stones body (one under the jaw, one at the base of his neck, one near the palm to specify the location. it's a u ique sequence every time, depending on what he needs to turn off. or on. hehe) to turn the pain receptors off. ("you'd be squirming constantly otherwise.")

when the pain receptors are off, stone can still... feel a little bit of what's going on, but in a way he can't entirely describe or compare to anything else. the doctor pushes back his nicely flushed skin mesh, beautiful next to the site of the wound. it's tan compared to the almost-sickly pale translucence of ivo's hands, but stone is working on getting the proper nutrition in him!!! he'll be a healthy color before either of them knows it!

stone winces, the doctor had moved aside some of the torn tendon to start repairing it. it didn't, hurt, but it. felt. robotnik reconnects the joints and sews up the pieces that had been sliced--and then he sews the last bit of his outermost layer of skin up and it starts nearly immediately repairing itself, little manmade bots and programs working themselves inside of stone to get him functioning back at 100%. by tomorrow morning the sutures will be invisible, nonexistent, and nobody would have ever known about the slash on stone's arm.

the doctor presses all those buttons in reverse sequence to turn on all of stone's regularly functioning processes again--and maybe, accidentally, some additional ones, too--and then. I'm corny. robotnik loves all his inventions. stone can have a little kiss on his temple as a treat. robotnik would give him a quick peck and then tell him to get back to work before getting ready to take a shower to get all that blood and sweat off of him.

[zims-left-shoe]

Hi, I absolutely adore your stuff!!! Its my birthday soon and I would be forever grateful if you could write me something for Zim? I dont really mind what it is or what it's about. I'd just be happy for cute headcannons. Thank youuuuuuu!!!!💞😘

Sure!! I finally got to this. I’ve been wanting to write some headcanons anyway, but I have a lot in my ask box so I just haven’t gotten to it yet. This is basically a list of various headcanons that are cute (in my opinion), they don’t really have a specifc theme! 

Cute Zim relationship headcanons (all are my personal opinion)!! 

Irkens are touch starved, since the entire empire is basically one big military. Love within Irken society is incredibly taboo, as is physical affection. Most forms of physical contact between Irkens tend to be painful (i.e punches, kicks, strikes). The whole concept of romantic relationships was a bit of a culture shock to Zim. 

That being said, the very first time you had attempted something in that vein (even if it was something as simple as a hug or taking his hand), he wasn’t quite sure how to react. At first he was very jumpy. However, if you would pull away, he would immediately bring you back in. 

In the beginning, you would have to be the one to instigate anything romantic. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t want it (he was pretty much hooked on physical affection the first time you held his hand), rather he was too proud to ask for anything. He didn’t want to be seen as weak, begging for attention. He was Irk’s finest soldier after all!

Eventually, he had stopped caring about that. Once he gained confidence with the whole thing, he would make the first moves quite often. Because if he wanted it, he would take it (within your comfort level of course).

Zim is a clingy bastard. Too conceited to admit it, but clingy nonetheless. If you ignore him for too long, he will begin to bug you in the most obnoxious ways imaginable. Trying to work or be productive? He’s basically the equivalent of a cat, he’ll just lay right across whatever you’re trying to do, or right on top of you to prevent you from accomplishing anything. If he can’t do that, he’ll bitch and moan until you acknowledge his existence. If you somehow manage to ignore him after all of that, he’ll get all schmoopy and lay on the ground all depressed like (basically that one scene from ETF) until you go convince him you still love him.

(more under the cut)

Despite being cautious with hugs at first, he learned to love them. Again, he would never say this aloud, but they make him feel warm and safe. Zim would never verbally ask for a hug, rather just slither his way into your arms. This happens often, especially when he’s unhappy. Sometimes he’ll even use his PAK legs along with his arms, although he’s very careful when he does this since they can be sharp; this usually happens if he thinks you need to be protected from something, even if it’s not a physical threat (breakdowns worry him, he believes you to be in danger from something he can’t fight).

Holding hands is something Zim likes a lot. Not only does it feel nice, he’s discovered it to be a very effective way to show the world that you are his, and that he is yours. He tends to be a bit jealous and overprotective, so if he feels that there is even a minor possibility of your relationship being threatened, his clinginess goes up a thousand percent. Anytime you walk anywhere together, you better believe your hands are linked. 

Cuddles are also a thing he loves dearly. Once he gets comfortable, Zim is definitely a cuddle bug. It’s like a hug but better! And if you’re at his place, there is a ninety percent chance GIR is joining in. Just like one happy family! Again, if he initiates it, he won’t ask for it. You could just be sitting on a couch and he’ll slowly curl himself into you, gradually latching a limb at a time onto you, until you’re both just a mess of tangled arms and legs. But, oh, if you even make the smallest remark about him being cute, he’ll throw a hissy fit and say that he’s just doing this for your sake, not his own enjoyment (and then two seconds later he’ll be purring and chirping in your arms, content as can be).

Zim is competitive as hell. He’ll turn anything into a competition if you let him. If you remain passive and assure him that, yes, he is the best, he’ll leave it at that. However, if you don’t back down and try to give him a run for his money, expect an all out war. You can use this to your advantage. For example, want him to be overly-affectionate for the day? Challenge him to see who can do the most nice things for each other. Even if he says that’s stupid, he’ll still accept the challenge and suddenly you have the sweetest alien in the universe. He will never back down. Ever. So these little games will be drug out for as long as you let them. It’s best just to let him win after a day or two. 

Dates with Zim are either the most outlandish thing you’ve ever done, or the most charming and romantic. There’s no in-between. And they can go from zero to a hundred real quick. Typical Earth dates make no sense to him in the slightest, so even if he does try to take you on a cliché date (dinner and a movie, stuff like that), it will most likely go horribly wrong as a result of poor planning. Those dates tend to be the funniest, but they frustrate him to no end since he clearly can’t get them right. He tends to be more successful when he stops trying to think like a human, since he really can’t. Lots of dates in space ensue, which tend to be both exciting and amazing. Although everywhere he takes you isn’t anything special to him, he can tell you’re having the time of your life, which is enough to satisfy him. GIR probably tags along a lot (not only is he a great robot son, he makes an excellent wing man).

Kissing is a very strange experience for him. Zim has never understood the act itself or its appeal, and at first found it rather disgusting. Eventually he gets used to it, but he’s still completely confused by it. It’s not his favorite thing, and he definitely has to be in the mood for it, but he’s more willing to take part in it. Especially if it becomes competitive; pray for yourself then, because you have a monster on your hands. And if someone just won’t get the hint, kissing is his way of telling them to step off before they lose a limb; he’s a jealous little devil when it comes to you.

As time goes on, you’ll begin to notice that several articles of clothes of yours have gone missing. Zim likes to take jackets he thinks you won’t miss anymore, because as previously mentioned, he’s a clingy bugger, and so when you can’t be around him, he’ll put one of those on while he works down in the lab or is doing repairs. If he gets it dirty, he’ll sneakily throw it with the rest of your laundry and take another one.

Zim is extremely proud to have you. He will show you off to anyone and everyone who will listen, including his Tallest (who seemed rather confused). At first it was embarrassing, but you had just learned to roll with the inevitable. 

If you ask very nicely (i.e. offering cuddles and feeding his ego), Zim could be convinced to give you a lesson on flying the voot cruiser. Does it go well? Well, Zim’s piloting skills are...not consistently amazing, his teaching skills even less so, but you didn’t kill yourselves. You would have thought he would be pissed after the ship was docked in the hangar in worse condition than it had left, but surprisingly he was even more motivated to teach you to pilot an Irken ship. Mainly because it was a way to spend time with you in a way that he could understand, but nonetheless he made flying lessons a regular thing. 

Expect gifts constantly. Despite his evil plans going horribly wrong all of the time, Zim is actually incredibly skilled when it comes to tech. So, he makes you things. A lot. They tend to be things that are actually useful, with far more advanced technology than anything available on Earth. Plus, Zim is a million times more helpful than an IT guy. Your phone or laptop not working? You can take it to Zim and within five minutes not only is your original problem fixed, but the device itself has been completely upgraded with Irken tech to give it more functionality and efficiancy than you could have ever dreamed of.

Overall, despite his flaws and being a massive pain in the ass, Zim is a cutie in his own right. :)

[beckzorz]

down (one-shot)

Pairing, Words: Bucky Barnes/Reader, 1.1k Prompt/Warnings: “I might not go down in history, but I will go down on you.” Or, you tend to Bucky after a gruesome mission. ANGST, gore, swearing, references to sex. A/N: Written from a prompt for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​’s quarantined drunk drabbles. Thanks so much to @jewels2876​ for helping <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, just pretend the header image isn’t OBVIOUSLY A STOCK IMAGE, it’s the best I could do lol)

Bucky grits his teeth as the plastic stitch slides through the needle-hole on his abdomen. The needle pierces his skin again, and he looks so far up his eyeballs hurt. It doesn’t make a lick of difference for the real pain, but at least he can count stars.

“How’s the view?” you murmur.

Another prick of the needle, another slick slow slide of plastic through his skin.

“Not much light pollution out here.” He lets out a slow breath, air whistling through his clenched teeth.

“Well, compared to New York.”

Your voice is gentle, teasing; Bucky closes his eyes and latches onto it, onto you. Your careful breathing, the way your breath fans his skin, how your heartbeat is solid and constant and just a hint quicker than normal. The pain of the needle and thread doesn’t go away—being super means super sensitive too, sometimes—but he can bear it.

He peeks down at the last bit of intestine still visible, then closes his eyes.

With you, he can bear anything.

—

The second Bucky’s head hits the pillow, he’s asleep.

It’s like this every time he suffers a big hit. His body wants to heal, not deal with the boring normal functioning stuff like thinking straight or walking. It was all you could do to keep him coherent, let alone awake, for the two-hour hike back to the safehouse.

Now, at least, his body can do its thing.

You sigh and wipe your hands together. Procedure dictates writing the report immediately, and you know just how little Fury cares about the blood caked under your fingernails.

Looking away from Bucky, lying with his lips parted and the skin across his stomach raw and his bruised face turned towards you, is harder than dirtying a keyboard.

But you do it. You do both.

You look away, and you dirty a keyboard with Bucky’s blood.

—

Steam curls in the air and water streams down your back, down your chest, off your fingertips. The shower is the best place to be after writing a report like that, one where you have to write just how many stitches and just how many staples and just how many feet of intestine.

Grenades don’t usually make such a mess. Usually, Bucky can catch them, toss them aside, use the metal of his prosthetic to shield himself.

Today wasn’t about shielding himself. Like the apocryphal tale of little, lawbreaking Steve Rogers flinging himself to protect his training squad all those years ago, today was a crowd of civilians, a horrible possibility, a split-second choice.

Bucky made the right choice. He always does.

Right for his sense of self, right for saving the civilians, right for every reason.

You shut your eyes against the humid heat of the shower and let yourself shudder.

It’s right for everything, for everyone, except you.

The shudders don’t stop. You collapse against the tile wall and scramble for a hold, silent sobs wracking your body as you slide down. Your throat burns.

Bucky—he—he’d been torn open, torn apart, all splayed out like a child’s splattered painting, blood painting the dirt and your hands and your heart. His intestines had slithered in your hands, pulsing with horrible irony as the man who’d thrown it lay dead at your hands barely a stone’s throw away.

And you couldn’t do a damn thing but fix it, fix him, staple him together and stitch him back up, because that’s your job, and you can’t have feelings—you shouldn’t have feelings! You’re not here to have feelings. You shouldn’t have anything but working fingers and supplies and the ability to use them.

You curl against the tub wall and let hot salty tears mix with hot clear water, soapy water swirling around your ankles.

Shouldn’t.

But you do. God, you do. Whether you want it or not, and you don’t know if you wish all those nebulous thoughts and wants would vanish or never leave. Would you turn into a robot, if you could?

Another pointless question. You’re human, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

You suck in a shaky breath, then another. Count to four breathing in, count to eight blowing out. You focus on your fingers and toes, draw your focus in and up until the shudders and tears stop. You settle back into yourself, one breath at a time.

There’s only one good thing about Bucky’s healing sleeps.

Without him, you can live your trauma in peace.

—

Rapid beeps, low and regular and just over his head, pull Bucky out of the dark.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you say. The bed dips under your weight.

He hums in the back of his throat, his tension melting away. You always know the moment he’s awake. Always have.

“Time?” he rasps.

“Six hours, seven minutes.”

Bucky sighs. He pokes at the edges of the places that hurt. Progress, but still a ways to go. His stomach is still stitching himself together; his insides are still shifting back into place. 

“Report?” he asks.

“Sent off, but you can add to it when you’re ready. The usual.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” you say drily.

Bucky cracks an eye open and admires your profile. “That, and to keep me in one piece.”

“Or to put you back into one piece,” you mutter.

You turn away and take a swig from a bottle he can’t see—he can’t smell any alcohol, but there’s something off about you. Something ruffled. Something disturbed.

“That too,” he says slowly.

He pushes himself up, grunting, and you suck in a quick breath. You’re at his side in a moment, a hand on his back and another holding his hand. It’s your job, yes, but he takes comfort in your hands on him. In you near him at all.

“Keeping my ragged ass going,” he adds.

You laugh, but it doesn’t last long. “Can’t have my favorite history project dying on me, can I?”

Bucky squeezes your hand. “You should go down in history too. Keeping me alive has gotta be at least as hard as what I do.”

“Probably.”

He doesn’t trust your smile. Doesn’t trust the calm on your face, or the solid beat of your heart. It isn’t soothing anymore.

It’s ominous.

You catch his eye—you’re as sharp as he is, and as soon as your smile looks more real he knows it’s ten times as fake. You lean in closer and trail your finger across his lips.

“I might not go down in history,” you tell him, “but I’ll go down on you.”

Despite himself, he’s interested. Diversionary tactic or not, you do know how to use those lovely lips of yours. Still…

“I don’t think my tummy could take it,” Bucky says mournfully. “Think you can stand to wait?”

“You’re a baby, Barnes.” You kiss his cheek. “Anything for my favorite patient. Now rest up.”

Five steps, and you’re gone, and Bucky’s alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence, and nothing to do except wonder.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #22- If You Don’t Love Thunderclash, Get Better Soon I Guess

One last issue before we reach Comic Event Hell.

Time to use a dead man to set up the rest of the nonsense that’s got to happen, because apparently 14 issues of setup, including six issues of literal prelude, wasn’t enough.

The first bit of information we’re presented with is the fact that Chromedome and Swerve are on the opposite sides of the camera-shy scale. I guess that’s bound to happen when your spouse has had his video-cam literally connected to his brain for at least several thousand years.

The art may look really gritty and hardcore here, but this is actually due to a filter Rewind has over all his footage that he’s neglected to take off, because it made all the wartime propaganda he would stuff into people’s heads all the more brutal-looking.

No, this is the style of our artist for this issue, James Raiz, who we’ll be seeing a fair bit of over the next several issues. Raiz has worked on the Transformers franchise over the course of multiple license-holders, as well as contributed to both Marvel and DC comics. He also works in special effects, including matte painting and VFX. That’s just neat.

Anyway, the reason Swerve’s completely frozen in place isn’t because Rewind  switched out his head-mounted camera for a gun that goes off if it hears you make a self-deprecating joke, but rather because he’s conducting interviews with everyone in the main cast. We get all their introductions, Cyclonus makes a statement about his political stances, Drift sounds like he’s high as a kite, First Aid strikes a sassy pose while not being bitter in the slightest, and Ultra Magnus makes a move that would get him murdered on any given film set in the universe.

You do NOT use your bare fucking hand to clean a camera lens, mister. Go get a microfiber cloth and try the fuck again, you complete and utter duffel bag of a creature.

We get a quick cut of the speech Rodimus made back in issue #1, with an angle that implies that Rewind was in the front row of the front row, then cut over to Rodimus asking Rewind to document their Capital-Q Quest. This is where we establish that this film doesn’t only contain footage from Rewind’s personal camera, but also that of the Lost Light’s security system.

Which feels like the sort of access you maybe wouldn’t want to give some nosy little film buff, especially when you have a secret giant serial killing sadist living in your basement like a disappointing adult child.

See? He was given the job to record the adventures of the Lost Light not five minutes ago, and he’s already using his powers for evil. Eavesdropping evil. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, Rodimus, and you just handed it to the guy with a massive Dominus Ambus-shaped chip on his shoulder.

So Rewind’s got permission to film just about whatever he wants, and Rodimus figures it’ll be nonstop action from here to the finish line! Fights! Intrigue! Mild hijinks and peril! Explosions aplomb! Oh man, I can’t wait to see what kinds of crazy shit will happen on this absolute roller coaster of a Quest!

Smashcut to Swerve literally falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. Yeah, as it turns out, no quest, capital Q or not, is nonstop action. Which is good, honestly, because that kind of seems like it would be exhausting after the first week or so.

Swerve, Tailgate, and Rewind are discussing cool alt-modes, which seems like an odd topic, seeing as Tailgate and Swerve have basically the same situation going on there, leaving Rewind alone in the camp of “does not have wheels”.

I worry about you sometimes, Rewind. Internalized Functionism is a very real problem. Uh, well, in your universe anyway. Us humans have to deal with regular ol’ classism and racism.

Rung gets brought up, and it’s revealed that the wheel on his back is almost purely cosmetic; it doesn’t even actually attach to his body. The lads decide that they’ve got nothing better to do, and set up a gentlemen’s wager- first one to figure out Rung’s whole deal gets 100 space-dollars.

Throwing shit at people’s heads will be a major plot point in the climax of this comic series.

Swerve’s go at trying to win the bet involved tossing a grenade at Rung to hit him in the neural cluster, which is rumored to be able to force an involuntary mode change if done correctly. Obviously, it didn’t work this go around. Then our narrative focus switches over to the crew’s hobbies.

You were listening to Prince, weren’t you, Magnus? Not even deep space is safe from the Cease and Desist.

Skids’ hobby is meeting new people, because he suffers from the terrible curse of being so fucking good at everything he tries, he always ends up dropping whatever he picked up, because what’s the point? This acts as a segue into another flashback, to even MORE bullshit that the fellas got roped into on Hedonia.

These are the Stentarians. They’re like the Cybertronians, if they were better in every way.

And by “better”, I, of course, mean “more bloodthirsty, warmongering, and driven enough to make their civil war last about as long as the Jurassic Period”. Also, they’re all combiners by default, and Whirl seems a little TOO into their whole situation. So much so, in fact, that when the Imperial Guard of their race show up to kill them, he decides to do them a solid by single-handedly ending their entire war.

You know, in most cases you’re supposed to show and not tell for visual media. This is way funnier, though, so it can be excused.

We jump back into the interviews, and Rewind’s just asked everyone if they’re happy. This might seem like an odd question, until you remember that everyone on-board this ship has crippling depression and PTSD, and Rewind’s married to one of the saddest motherfuckers to ever exist, so he probably has this question loaded into the proverbial chamber at any given moment. We won’t cover all of the answers here, because they’ll be more poignant to reflect back on later in the comic run, but let’s take a gander at the characters who’ve completed the first leg of their character arcs this season.

Drift, is that perhaps… an honest expression of your inner thought processes happening right there? Has Rewind broken through your carefully crafted persona, if even for just a moment, with his question? Perish the thought!

Because Tailgate outed himself as being baby in issue #21, I have zero doubt he’s not exaggerating here. He was a janitor, then he fell in a hole and became Dirt-Nap Supreme for six million years; even the most boring day on the Lost Light’s got to be better than that.

And it’s nice to see Chromedome on a good day for once. Hopefully he reveled in it while he had the chance, because this interview takes place maybe a couple weeks before he fucks everything up big time and has to blow up his husband with a missile strike.

Getting back to the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode plotline, we see Rung using his backpack as a wheelbarrow- no idea what he’s actually pushing in the damned thing- and wearing the most disgruntled face I’ve seen him pull in a hot minute. Someone yells for him to come down the eerily unlit and sinister-looking hallway, which he does. Rung would not do well in a horror film.

He winds up at Swerve’s, where Tailgate, Swerve, Brainstorm, and someone who is most likely Trailcutter, given the colors, are hanging out in their alt-modes. Tailgate’s ploy to find out Rung’s deal is to do what he does best- lie! They’re having an alt-mode party, and wouldn’t Rung like to join in? There are, of course, logistical issues with being a car in a bar, especially when your drink is on the table and your head is tucked up somewhere in your torso, but never mind all that! Let’s get crazy!

This doesn’t work either. Maybe we should cut out the middle man here and just get Rung drunk enough to agree to a wet alt-mode contest.

No, I don’t have any idea how that would work.

In our next vignette, Rodimus comes into the comms room, Rewind trailing behind him like a grim shadow of death, to see what the hell Blaster wants, other than just the hugest glass of water.

Raiz’s work is very detailed, and you really feel the weight of these giant metal space robots, but everyone looks like they’ve been put through a food dehydrator.

We get a lot of build up to the character who’s about to be introduced, with a common opinion being shared amongst everyone- even Tailgate, who hates successful people like his life depends on it.

Lovely readers, put your hands together for the ideal male partner for Autobots, Decepticons, and Neutrals alike:

A man with so much charisma and charm that only Rodimus could hate him, Thuderclash brings to IDW what everyone wishes Optimus Prime would, making our disappointing space dad even more mediocre by comparison. He fights for justice, and freedom, and the good of the universe- and he does it all while having a chronic medical condition that forces him to stay within a certain distance of his ship that is also a life-support machine, otherwise he will die. Despite his handicaps, Thunderclash seemingly brings to others what they need most, even if they don’t even realize that they needed it in the first place.

He also, in this one scene, appeals to Drift’s religious sensibilities, does a secret best-friend dance with Ratchet (who he helped to pass his medical exams- yes, Ratchet), and congratulates Rodimus on his questing so far.

Thunderclash is one of those characters that everyone in-universe is supposed to love, and I completely buy it- because he’s completely genuine and humble about all of this the entire time.

Compare this to the last time Roberts wrote Thunderclash, in Eugenesis.

Where he was an ex-Decepticon.

And kind of an abrasive asshole.

And then he died.

Y’know, now that I think of it, Eugenesis Thunderclash and MTMTE Ambulon being basically the same character makes a whole lot of sense, even without the horrors of Roberts’ Twitter getting involved.

Thunderclash reveals that he, too, is on a quest to find the Knights of Cybertron, much to Rodimus’ chagrin. But first he needs the Lost Light to break out the jumper cables, and then for his second in command to stop threatening his life.

Turns out, not everyone is as obvious as the Cybertronians with their naming conventions. Whirl assassinated the wrong folks; I’m sure the Galactic Council is utterly thrilled. Paddox wants to steal the quantum engine technology for the good of his people, so they can kick the ass of the up-and-coming Terradore leader.

Completely unaware of the situation unfolding here in the lab, Swerve is directing Rung towards the warm, loving aura of Thunderclash for another go at winning the gentlemen’s wager- through the power of lying about having friends, Swerve’s “agreed” to get Rung Thunderclash’s autograph, in exchange for getting to check that Rung’s transformation cog is still working. Then they bump into the nightmare currently unfolding. My, whoever will save us from this dreaded menace, who holds a gun to the head of the Autobots’ greatest warrior, confidant, friend, and perhaps even lover?

How about a bartender and a giant vape pen?

Okay, so Rung doesn’t actually turn into a vape. It turns out that the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode is also a mystery to the man himself. Because Rung is old as shit, the Functionists got to see this bullshit for themselves, and ended up testing him over and over and over trying to figure it out, lest he prove to be a flaw in their fascist ideologies. Fun fact: fascists HATE it when people they’re trying to oppress don’t play to their expectations.

The Functionists were the ones who gave Rung his little wheelie backpack, to make him at least appear useful. This sort of treatment tends to warp one’s head a bit, which would explain why he’s bothered to keep it for so long- internalized functionism’s a real bitch.

At least he’s not giving teenagers nicotine addictions under the guise of being somewhat better than cigarettes.

Back with Rodimus and Cybertron’s Autobot of the Year for 40,000 consecutive years, we get the unfortunate news that jump-starting Thunderclash’s ship is going to make the Quest go a bit slower for the Lost Light, much to Rodimus’ horror, though he does his best to put on a brave face; after all, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it?

It’s at this point that it’s revealed that “Little Victories” was being screened to all the Circle of Light members who didn’t get murdered or turned into Legislators on Luna 1, and man are these guys pissy. What was meant to be a recruitment video turned out to do just the opposite, because none of these guys want anything to do with what the Lost Light’s got going on.

Too bad Rewind didn’t have time for a cleaner cut for showing. Maybe they could have at least snagged a couple of these guys to tag along.

As all of the Circle of Light leave the theatre to go call everyone’s favorite Autobot to see if he needs a more crew members, the film plays on behind Skids, back to the interviews, as everyone promises more adventures just waiting on the horizon.

You’re not even on this trip anymore, you dork.

Chromedome gives us the title drop for the movie and issue, and we cut to Rewind organizing a group photo of all the interviewees.

And then Rewind died horribly like a week later. Thus ends season one of More Than Meets the Eye!

While I’m here, I’d like to take the time to cover a little bit of cut content from this issue, a scene between Drift and Ratchet.

Drift, during his interview, recalls the time that Ratchet called him into his office for a very serious discussion about his/Pharma’s hands.

Yeah, turns out they’re haunted.

Well, no, not really, because this is a prank. But Drift doesn’t know that yet.

Ratchet demonstrates this hand-haunting by punching Drift in the face, as he screams damnation at Pharma’s ghost. Drift, because he is a spiritual man, knows exactly what to do to deal with this possession; he draws his sword and chops Ratchet’s hands off, then throws them out the airlock.

This, too, is a prank, not that Ratchet knows it right away, yelling at Drift that he’s crippled him.

Clearly, these two belong together.

This bit of cut script was lucky enough to have gotten drawn by the colorist for MTMTE Season 1, Josh Burcham. Burcham’s line art is iconic- you won’t mistake him for anyone else. It’s rough and angular, and honestly just very charming. I’m a sucker for this sort of style. If you want to see his adaptation of this chunk of script- and trust me, you do- the link’s right here:

https://dcjosh.tumblr.com/post/107665292031/its-done-the-mtmte-22-deleted-scene-in-all-its

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 102

Okay, trying to queue this again after it apparently got eaten along with chapter 101.

Y’all pray for me to whatever higher powers you believe in or can make up on the spot. Thanks.

Thanks for this chapter goes to the fabulous anon who sent me an ask about Jedis. I really, really hope you are seeing this chapter and I hope you like it. I also want to thank @baelpenrose​ as my resident Star Wars expert, who checked, double checked, and triple checked my writing to make sure everything was as entertaining/accurate as possible.

Before you all cringe at some comments Sophia makes, she is deliberately downplaying her knowledge of Star Wars in an attempt to see if she can give some of the other characters a twitchy eye.

After an extraordinarily bizarre situation regarding my former foe and who I assumed was his partner, I was profoundly relieved to find myself in a very boring, very normal situation a couple of weeks later. Even the regular family dinner was pretty normal: grilled cheese on a very good sourdough, with a tomato soup so garlicky that even I had no objections to it. I made a point to puree it, so Derek was very happy with the texture and I was happy with the flavor. Arthur shot me odd looks once in a while, but it was a happy, calm dinner.

And things were going… so well… I thought as Maverick dragged everyone into his quiet argument with Sam.

“Sam,” He stated emphatically as he dunked his sandwich and ripped a tomato-soaked piece from it. “We all want it to be real but… humans don’t exist outside of Earth and the Ark.”

“Yoda is not human,” Sam insisted loudly, grinning the entire time.

I choked on my soup. “Yoda? You two have been arguing Star Wars this whole time?”

“Maverick insists they are not real,” Sam enunciated carefully. When he got excited about a topic he loved, he had a tendency to rush everything and drop syllables, making his words nearly impossible to understand.

“They meaning Jedi?” Arthur asked, eyeballing the pile of sandwiches on the table. Finally he snagged his third half-sandwich and dunked it without ceremony. “As much as I wish they were real, I have my doubts.”

So did I. “Human beings who can use telepathy, telekinesis, and distance-empathy?” I scrunched my nose. “I think that’s a bit far-fetched.”

“But extraterrestrials exist,” Sam pointed out.

Conor nodded. “They do, obviously. Otherwise, Noah would be a bloody big figment of our imagination.” Shaking his head, he smiled. “If we didn’t make Santa real as children, I doubt we could make up someone like Noah, right?”

Sam only got more serious. “I was always taught that aliens don’t exist. My teachers told me that the only life off of Earth were bacteria. But, even if Else is bacteria, Noah isn’t. So, maybe other things we thought were pretend are real.”

The table was silent for a moment, shattered only by Derek dusting bread crumbs from his hands as ceremoniously and loudly as humanly possible. “Sam has a point,” he signed. “Fabricators exist, aliens exist.. Hell, telepathy exists - “

“Not telepathy,” Miys interjected from above.

“Neuro-pheremonal communication exists,” Derek finger-spelled, making a point of how cumbersome the term was in a way none of the rest of us really could. Seven minutes later, he took a slurp of soup and continued. “Unicorns exist, even if they are chubby. Why not Jedi?”

I opened my mouth to refute, then realized I couldn’t: we had the genetic code for both narwhals and rhinoceros in the gene bank. Good effing luck convincing anyone unicorns don’t exist, I guess. Instead, I grasped on my one last leg of logic. “But humans, like Luke Starkiller and Obi-whatsit Kenoshi don’t actually exist.”

Maverick looked absolutely revolted by something, which confused me. He liked tomato soup, and actually chose the cheese for the sandwiches himself. “Sophia. Have you even seen those movies?” He was absolutely aghast as he posed his question, and I suddenly understood what he was revolted by.

“Of course I did,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “In college, in Intro to Adolescent Literature.”

Soup abruptly coated everything on the table as both Arthur and Conor spat violently at my clarification. Arthur scrubbed his chin the fastest, so had the honor of levelling his incredulity at me. “Sophia Reid. Do you mean to tell me that you have only seen Star Wars ONE TIME?”

I shook my head, confused. “No. I’ve seen all three.”

“ELEVEN,” Sam corrected me loudly. “There are eleven movies.”

“Please, please tell me you at least saw Rogue One,” Maverick begged. “You may not have known it was a Star Wars movie?”

“Is that the one where the robot hits the guy and says he has another fresh one?” I asked carefully.

Maverick nodded. Arthur, however, looked like he was about to start breathing fire. “I am going to force you to consume every bit of Star Wars media worth consuming if I have to get Charly and Derek to program the audio versions to play in every room you enter.”

“I can do that,” Derek signed, unhelpfully.

Arthur just nodded. “See? I can make this happen. Your quarters will feel like Hoth, all digital communications will sound like C-3PO, and many Bothans will die before your datapad functions.”

Alarmingly, Miys interjected. “Wisdom, Bothans are an endangered species. Please do not encourage Educator Farro to commit atrocities.”

I was still gasping in confusion when Arthur recovered from his choking. “Oh shit. Bothans are real? They were a very back-stabby race of dog-type people who fought against fascists in Terran media. I thought, at least. I wouldn’t actually kill a real one… I am far more high functioning of a sociopath than that, thank you.”

“Noah,” I choked out. “Are you serious? Are Bothans real?”

“Affirmative,” they responded, setting off an entirely new round of choking and sputtering. I would need to have something done about my floors if this kept up. “And while they do resemble Terran canines on a very superficial level, they are genetically more closely related to a Terran fern.”

Arthur looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. “That is the least back-stabbing and least threatening plant I can possibly think of.”

Conor, not to be outdone, was still curious. “Boston or Fiddlehead?”

“Asparagus fern, Human Conor,” was the reply that set off a thousand coughs.

Sam recovered first. “That does not mean Jedi don’t exist,” he insisted.

“Of course Jedi exist,” Miys answered in a tone that was as close to being confused as I had ever heard.

Almost immediately, Arthur, Maverick, and Sam started cheering and high-fiving. Conor looked confused, while I spat my soup out again.

“WHAT?” I choked out between attempts at keeping tomatoes and garlic out of my lungs.

“They are as real as any member of any other Terran religion.”

Silence ruled the room for a split second, broken first by Arthur throwing his fork in the air behind him.  Like a signal, it led to Sam and Maverick dropping their head to their forearms with a groan.

I managed to recover enough to slide my food away, lest I risk death over an absurd conversation. “Are there anything like Jedi in the known galaxy?” I asked, receiving a thumbs up from Arthur, who was still trying not to choke on his soup.

“Only in small measures.”

That seemed like the magic phrase to snap Arthur out of whatever coughing fit he was having. “Are there any species in the galaxy that have Jedi abilities?”

“You will need to be more specific.”

Conor, laughter out of his system, joined gamely. “Is there anything that can move physical objects without touching them directly?” he started.

“Several species can,” Miys conceded. “Those who only experience what you consider ‘sight’ as changes in air currents can, in fifty-four percent of cases so far, also change the air currents in a sufficient way as to move physical objects.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “They can stare at something hard enough to move it?”

“Wisdom, if I experienced physical pain, I am certain that your oversimplification just now would have caused such a sensation.”

Without rebutting, I waved for Miys to continue and ignored the laughter caused by the comment.

“Similarly, there are species more limited than Hujylsogox, who can perceive the physical world strictly through sound,” they continued. “In such cases, it is not uncommon for these species to also alter their surroundings by vibrating physical objects at a frequency that causes them to move within physical space.” A brief pause before, “And no, Wisdom, that does not mean they scream at objects until such objects move. I would also like to point out, Educator Farro, that the same species can cause internal organs to vibrate as a sufficient frequency as to cut off air flow.”

“Force choke is real,” Arthur whisper-shouted, mildly horrified. Clearing his throat, he spoke more clearly for his next question. “What about ‘there is a disturbance in the Force, as if many voices cried out’ etc?”

Miys buzzed thoughtfully for a moment before replying more clearly. “There are number of species who are able to perceive and interpret with great accuracy any changes in interstellar radiation, no matter how small. Should, say, a star go nova or collapse into a black hole, they are very reliable in providing information to cartographers. Should such a species state with certainty that a planet ceased to exist, I would need to see the planet from orbit in order to disbelieve them.”

Maverick let loose a low whistle, but it was Sam who spoke next. “But what about living beings, on an individual level. I know you can do that, but can any other species?”

“It is, perhaps, the most common trait in the known galaxy,” Miys admitted. “Even humans can do this, to a degree, although you tend to ignore it against all logic.”

“Okay. What about force lightning, though?”

I actually started to respond to that, having an answer finally, but Miys beat me to the draw. “Species who communicate through electrical currents are more numerous in the galaxy than those who can see. In the same way, they need to be able to manipulate such currents. Their young are frequently sequestered on their home worlds in order to prevent electrocution of species whose neural organs can be disrupted by uncontrolled communication. The same species are capable of using those same currents to increase their own synaptic response and reflexes.”

I almost wanted to laugh at Maverick’s face. He looked frustrated and ashamed in a way that I could not figure out. Maybe because these abilities existed, but not in humans? Regardless, his tone was frustrated when he asked his next question. “What about force ghosts? Please tell me those are real?”

“Very much so,” Miys confirmed. “Though likely not in the way you think. What you consider ‘Force Ghosts’ are, in the galaxy as it is, the result of technological advancement combined with spiritual beliefs.” A few groans surrounded the table, but Maverick perked up slightly. “Many species believe, as a result of their evolution, that their predecessors’ life energy persists after death. In these cultures, it is so common as to be unremarkable for a person to have a synaptic recording chip installed shortly after birth, to record their entire lives. They, then, pass their chip on to their successor in  position.” Wait a minute… I thought, but Miys continued before I could put everything together. “In such circumstances, many species’s neural organs will manifest a… personality, separate from the original, in order to preserve mental stability. Such manifestations are very similar to what Terran media considers a ‘Force ghost’.”

“Hang on,” I ventured, holding my hand up emphatically to cut off any other questions from the table. “That. Stop there.” Taking a deep breath, I thought back through everything I had read in the past. “I thought the idea of deliberately having multiple, distinct identities was… a story, honestly.”

“Even in your own past, it was discovered that the human brain can host two distinct personalities with no difficulty, Wisdom,” Miys admonished. “These species, however, are uniquely adapted so that, along with the memory implant, they suffer no actual combination or confusion of experiences. What their ancestor experienced is their ancestor’s memory, and what the person experiences is the person's memory. A person cannot overwrite an ancestral core. Only speak to it.”

“Can humans do that?” Sam asked, dazed in wonder at this new revelation.

“Not yet,” Miys responded. “But I do insist on the word ‘yet’, as you were never meant to do many of the things you do now.”

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[aion-rsa]

A Beginner’s Guide to Marvel Zombies

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains spoilers for Marvel’s What If…?

Man, Marvel’s What If…? series really does draw you in with a false sense of security, doesn’t it? The first episode is an adorable romance story laced with punching Nazis. The second is a tribute to a late actor in the form of galactic utopia. Then we get the Avengers being murdered, the universe being melted, and now Captain America eating human flesh. Enjoy your nightmares, kids!

The fifth episode of What If…? is a bit of a fanservice choice. For the latter half of the 2000s, Marvel was riding the Marvel Zombies train like nothing else.

While the first use of the concept came in 2005, one could consider What If…? v.2 #24 (What If Wolverine Was Lord of the Vampires?) to be the prototype. The story involved Dracula turning the X-Men into vampires, but Wolverine’s healing factor allowed him to overwhelm Dracula’s control and fight back. He then littered New York City with vampire heroes and humanity’s last hope came in the form of the Punisher wearing Dr. Strange’s cape.

Mark Millar

The first real use of Marvel Zombies was more of a prank than anything else. Mark Millar and Greg Land were doing Ultimate Fantastic Four and all signs pointed to the idea that they were setting up a crossover. Not just any crossover, but THE crossover. Marvel had been adamant about the Ultimate Universe being separated from main continuity, but solicitations and covers made it seem like the two Reed Richards counterparts were going to meet up. Much of Ultimate Fantastic Four #21 played into this with Ultimate Reed conversing with an alternate universe Reed who very much resembled the mainstream one. Ultimate Reed created a portal to go visit him.

What he found was zombie incarnations of the Fantastic Four with Reed asking, “Ever had the feeling you’ve been had?”

Robert Kirkman

The rest of the arc was about Ultimate Reed trying to survive and escape that world with the help of that world’s Magneto. This set the stage for the first Marvel Zombies miniseries, written by The Walking Dead’s Robert Kirkman with art by Sean Phillips (Arthur Suydam did zombie parody covers of classic Marvel art, which would continue for several more miniseries). Initially, Kirkman wanted to do a story about Luke Cage being the last hero alive, playing up his unbreakable skin as a deterrent, but since the Ultimate Fantastic Four arc already depicted Zombie Luke Cage, that was off the table.

Instead, his story involved two main arcs. One was the survival of Black Panther, who – much like the animated What If…? episode – was kept alive, albeit with his limbs being gradually removed for the sake of being zombie food without infecting the body. While the cartoon had Scott Lang’s disembodied head, the comic had a decapitated Zombie Wasp as Panther’s ally. She was never cured of the disease, but she did stop being hungry after a while and came to her senses.

The other story was about Earth’s zombified heroes dealing with the coming of the Silver Surfer and Galactus. A handful of them went on to devour the invaders and absorb their cosmic powers, along with their cosmic hunger. Hank Pym, Iron Man, Luke Cage, Wolverine, Spider-Man, and the Hulk went on to wipe out nearly all life in the universe as the Zombie Galacti. The follow-up was the basis for Marvel Zombies 2.

As for what caused the zombie outbreak in the beginning, that’s where things get a little hairy. The Ultimate Fantastic Four story revealed that a Zombie Superman (recolored to be the Sentry so as not to piss off DC) got so hungry that he punched reality until breaking into an alternate universe and infecting its heroes.

Kirkman and Phillips did a one-shot prequel called Marvel Zombies: Dead Days that suggested that Magneto bartered with some force to unleash the virus on Earth, thinking that it would only target humans and not mutants. Then a later miniseries called Marvel Zombies Return created an alternate universe time-loop where the zombies from Marvel Zombies continuity ended up in another universe, where they caused an outbreak, infected that world’s Sentry, and Zombie Sentry ended up popping into the Marvel Zombies universe to cause the initial outbreak.

Did anybody follow that? I hope so. Either way, Zombie Sentry was never mentioned again. He infected the heroes and then…nothing. Just a loose plot thread. Weird. Though fitting that the Sentry stopped being a threat because people forgot about him.

Crossovers

The initial Marvel Zombies universe was revisited here and there in several ways. Black Panther’s comic (during when he was leader of the Fantastic Four) journeyed into that universe and dealt with the Zombie Galacti. Ash from Army of Darkness got his own cool crossover miniseries taking place during the initial outbreak. Zombie Wolverine showed up in an Exiles story about a team made entirely out of Wolverine variants. Zombie Deadpool (Headpool) became a major part of the short-lived Deadpool Corps. Marvel Zombies also did a crossover with Marvel Apes.

There was also a one-shot called Marvel Zombies Halloween that revealed that Kitty Pryde and her son survived, while also showing what Mephisto was up to in this reality.

Fred Van Lente

With Marvel Zombies 3, Fred Van Lente started writing and brought the series in a different direction. He introduced ARMOR, a SHIELD offshoot based on dealing with alternate realities. While it still dealt with the Marvel Zombies universe, focus was more on the mainstream Marvel universe as it tried to prevent an invasion. The protagonists for the story were Machine Man and Jocasta. In the follow-up, Marvel Zombies 4, Morbius brought the Midnight Sons back together to save the world from a possible outbreak.

Van Lente’s swansong was Marvel Zombies 5, which was about Machine Man and Howard the Duck venturing into different zombie universes for reasons. After that came Marvel Zombies Supreme, taking place in regular Marvel continuity and featuring Battlestar and Jack of Hearts fighting zombie versions of the Squadron Supreme. Then came the last gasp for the line with 2012’s Marvel Zombies Destroy, where ARMOR sends Howard the Duck and Dum Dum Dugan to fight an alternate reality filled with zombie Nazis.

The Zombie Saga Continues

They did get a shot in the arm a few years later with Secret Wars. The event featured a world made up pieces of alternate Earths, haphazardly connected together. There’s a No Man’s Land on this Earth that’s filled with zombies and homicidal robots. It’s basically a place to dump criminals for execution.

A couple more stories were released, though neither had any connection to the original Marvel Zombies or the stuff with ARMOR. Marvel Zombie was a one-shot about a band of heroes trying to survive a zombie apocalypse, who end up teaming with Simon Garth, Marvel’s Zombie. The ending is…well, it sure is something.

More recently is Marvel Zombies: Resurrection. This one is about the Brood infesting and killing Galactus. The race evolves into a hivemind of zombies, all very interested in infecting Franklin Richards. The heroes for this one include Spider-Man, a Sentinel reprogrammed to be Franklin and Valeria’s nanny, a blind Wolverine, a techno-organic Frank Castle, and a SUPER EXCITED Blade.

Also of note is Marvel Universe vs. The Punisher and its sequels (Marvel Universe vs. Wolverine and Marvel Universe vs. The Avengers). This reality also dealt with a zombie superhero apocalypse, but in a different and more coherent way. Instead of being a virus, it was a bio weapon let loose into the ecosystem. That meant that presumably everyone was going to succumb to it eventually, turning into a savage cannibal. The Punisher, who was inadvertently behind the mess and was immune, would spend his days hunting down and beheading heroes. Also, he’d have to kill Deadpool on a nearly daily basis.

That’s Marvel Zombies in a nutshell.

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[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Congrats on 1200 followers!🎉🎉

Could I request a matchup for the haikyuu boys

This is a bit difficult but I'd say my weaknesses are that I can be really stubborn,  I tend bottle up my emotions (I thin that counts) and that I hate confrontation and avoid it like the plague.

My strengths would be that I'm open minded, kind and I'm not very judgmental.

My every days pretty boring, I wake up play some video game or with my dogs.  Sometimes I'll draw or do some sort of crafts and usually a bit of h/w.

3 qualities in our relationship: I kinda want it to be layed back. We don't have to go on fancy dates 24/7 and go out, we can just chill at home and do fun activities. I want it to be open so we can just casually talk about things without getting anxious and secure. (I hope I explained that right).

For my partner I'd want them to be patient, understanding  with a slice of chaotic energy.

I'm pretty introverted and I have adhd (pretty impulsive). I'm not very good with social cues and sometimes just need things explained to me...alot, I also sometimes unintentionally come of as rude without realising. I'm pretty creative tho and have a wild imagination. I'm also pretty disorganised and sometimes I tend to overthink, I especially get overwhelmed in loud crowded places.

I wouldn't want to be paired with ushijima,  terushima,  kita or daichi. Thank you!

𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑....

𝘒𝘰𝘻𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘮𝘢

Your relationship with Kenma is one that starts online, but you two don’t know much about one another at first. You just talk every now and then. He doesn’t think much of it at first, but then whenever you’re not online since you’re doing homework, he’ll feel something stir inside him. What is that? OH he misses you!

But nothing would happen at first, however, I can see fate pulling its strings by making you two run into each other at a social function. You both were dragged to it, and somehow you end up on the same couch.

One accidental conversation later, you realize you two know each other!! Cue Kenma asking for your number in a very smooth way.

Kenma would fit into your everyday lifestyle without much work, but don’t ask him to walk your dogs with you because he will flat out say no </3 That being said, he’s usually around you since your days are similar. So, eating meals together is a big thing!

He isn’t big on cooking, but sometimes he’ll offer to help in the morning when you’re really tired! 

When it comes to your ADHD, Kenma isn’t one to judge. Rather, he makes it his mission to adjust himself to that he can accommodate you better. And if anyone else tries to make your life for difficult… well, cue chaotic Kenma! He’ll deal with the confrontation for you once he’s in that mode.

I think the two of you will have an interesting time trying to figure out who has what responsibility when you move in together, since your minds are often consumed by other thoughts. For him it’s videogames and making money, and for you it’s overthinking about other matters.

What I think is wonderful about this pairing is that you both are generally good with staying home, and being outside with others isn’t something you both need. It’s an occasional thing, and when you do go out, if you’re in a loud crowded space, Kenma will be glued to your side, holding your hand to make sure you’re okay.

What works with your relationship is that Kenma is patient and understanding, but sometimes when you get into your stubborn ways, he’ll just respond with the silent treatment. </3 You two will have to learn ways to communicate your emotions and rely on one another emotionally. But it’s a natural process, and if anyone will be willing to try it’s Kenma! Plus, since you’re very open minded, finding mutual agreements won’t be difficult at all.

Overall, you two are similar and different in a way that works!

Small drabble 

“Ken, what is this?” Your eyes went from the large box that was placed in front of you to your boyfriend in disbelief. The package was large enough to fit a regular sized human. “Please don’t tell me it’s a robot.” A half-hearted laugh was exhaled as you tried to guess what was inside. 

“Open it.” The male shifted his gaze away from you shly, which only caused your heart to complete a flip. Sometimes he could be unexpectedly affectionate. 

“Okay.” Returning your attention to the gift, you began to remove the colourful wrapping paper. Once you discarded most of the packaging you found yourself staring at the world’s largest art set. There were over 500 pieces within the set from varying brands. 

Expensive. Yeah, this was extremely expensive. 

“Ken... What? I don’t understand.” Inside your heart brewed excitement and love. Kenma was always so supportive of you and your creative outlets. “You didn’t have to, you know.” 

“You were out of supplies...” A small shrug was added to accompany his words. But you knew he was content with your reaction. 

“You’re always looking after me, aren’t you? Come here.” Curling your bottom lip into a pout, you motioned your boyfriend over. The gamer made his way to you silently, not bothering to disagree with your comment. After curling his arms around your waist, he placed his chin over your shoulder. 

“That’s my job, isn’t it? To make you happy?” 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! thank you for playing <3 

[cassthepilot]

Cass Background & Lore

Decided to finally make a dedicated post to a large part of Cass’ story. Definitely a bit of read but it’s finally a little more streamlined & less chaotic than her age old about pages now I think. Anyway, for those who are interested, here goes, Apologies in advance for the long read.

CASS’ STORY

Cass was born & raised into a colorful life navigating the trailer parks, hollers & eventually prison system of West Virginia. Having never known a life outside of abject poverty & limited opportunities, Cass dreamed of a future where her & her mother could be free of demanding labor & the occasional early death from black lung that came with a toilsome career in mining. From a young age Cass assisted with supply runs for the local miners & her mother who helped oversee them and used the local rivers to transport whatever equipment they needed (as well as the occasional trafficking of moonshine which she brewed on the side.) The work was dirty, chaotic & about as hellish as you’d expect an open fiery mouth in the belly of the earth to be but there wasn’t a person there who wouldn’t shove a pick axe right up the ass of the devil himself for one another. To Cass it was the closest thing to family outside of a prison riot & a time she misses terribly.

Sadly after an tragic turn of events involving robot prototypes, the devil & a significant amount of property damage, Cass unexpectedly found herself both alone in the world & in prison where she was sentenced to do time before eventually going on to do some brief work for Amelia Earhart’s Hot Dog Service through the prisons work release program; F.U.N (Felonious Unemployables Network). This might’ve been a salvageable opportunity had she been allowed to use the delivery plane but apparently air travel is restricted if you “don’t have a license” &  are a “felon serving time.” - who even comes up with these rules right? Alas working to repay a debt to society isn’t without a processed meat blunder or two - the biggest being an accidental delivery to the funeral of a burn victim from the great weenie blaze of Mason County. Exasperated by the hours of public apologies & PR campaigns she now had to look forward to, Amelia exploded at Cass; berating & screaming at her to get lost before storming off. Fed up & determined to escape what she considered a lifelong sentence in hot dog hell, Cass simply replied to herself “No, why don’t you?..” while proceeding to punch the exact coordinates into her plane where she could go do that.

Finding herself now on the run from state & federal authorities and in need of someone who could saw off a thick set of shackles, Cass took refuge in the wilds of Appalachia. Moving steadily down the Appalachian trail into Tennessee, she finally rejoined civilization and went on to use the identity she “borrowed” from Amelia to stumble her way into a pilots job for Elvis as his personal food delivery service. After being briefed of the king’s mission to eat one of every animal, she soon found herself en route to a remote island in search of the world’s most endangered (& presumably tastiest) species. Or at least she would have, had a series of entirely preventable circumstances not landed them both in the middle of the ocean. Instead she now found herself stuck in the Bermuda Triangle where she spent the next half decade of her life before escaping (again), spending some more time on the run as a fugitive/drifter, and going on to finally (finally) work as a cargo pilot for Mann Co.

BERMUDA TRIANGLE

In the duration of time that she was stranded in the Bermuda Triangle, Cass spent a lot of that time hatching poorly thought out escape plans in a desperate bid to escape the island & her situation. Having such limited resources and opportunities ended up leaving her with the remarkable ability to improvise so she always made the most of what little she had. A couple of these attempts included; harnessing a flock of island birds together in an attempt to create some kind of skyraft and utilizing the abundant radiation in the area in hopes of growing a coconut large enough to sail up to 10 people. There were also a number of attempts made during the occasional time slips that occurred there but nothing that ever held up. These slips were almost always generated by old, experimental transporter technology that had been tested in the ocean in that region years ago.

Pretty much all of of her efforts to escape from the island, however, ended in failure and in some cases landed her and her crew more lost then when they began. Still, she worked hard to continue to find a (sort’ve) solution and while, in itself that wasn’t a bad thing, it did eventually develop into an unhealthy fixation of sorts. It wasn’t until nearly losing bigfoot in the center of the earth that  she accepted that maybe this problem was just a little bigger than her and that it might be in everybody’s best interest if they just stuck to trying not to die. Relinquishing all hopes at any kind of rescue she went back to her usual survival routine of punching crabs in the face & harvesting coconuts for food until one day opportunity finally arrived during an unexpected pit stop from Howard Hughes.

Turns out Hughes became disoriented at some point during his round the world flight. Needing to re-fuel, Hughes looked to Cass’ ability to improvise for help and a mutual agreement was established. Fascinated by the group, Hughes thought it would be an incredible press opportunity for himself but after realizing they would all track sand into his plane he went back on his word and initiated plans to continue solo. Hitting her breaking point, Cass settled this debt by tearing off the plastic bags from his hands and face and then jacking his plane while he was busy screaming hysterically & suffering a full mental breakdown over germs. It wasn’t what she had in mind but that’s what improvisation all about right?

RADIATION & STRANGE WEAPONRY

Abandoned long before modern 1960’s technology, the tropical waters surrounding the island were (accidentally) discovered by Cass and her crew to have been somewhat of a graveyard for nuclear & old teleportation testing. Nobody really knows why but it’s speculated that (at the time) so little was known about teleporters or how they functioned that these classified prototypes & the surrounding area must have been discarded when energy reached unmanageable levels. This seems the only likely explanation anyway given the sheer amount of radiation in the area, saturating the waters like some kind of surreal oil spill. It’s certainly a mystery as to why they’re in this region or how they’re even still functioning. Overcharged & churning eternally on the ocean floor, they create quite an impressive sight; manifesting on the surface of the water as a massive field of black vortexes. (akin to this except 100 million of them). Stranger still, they seem to have a bit of a weather system all their own too. The charges building up until they create what can only be described as a timephoon. Like the clouds that roll in before a thunderstorm, the time slips on the island usually began with small ripples in the tide until eventually things intensified and the very fabric of the area was disrupted & ripped apart. For Cass & her crew it was like watching a living history lesson..except.. all at once…and in the rain.

The waters in the area yielded quite an array of strange weaponry as well. Having salvaged what she could from nearby shipwrecks, it wasn’t long before it was discovered that these weapons had developed a bizarre form of sentience that, when used, seemed to exhibit a passion for keeping track of anything it killed. Fascinated by these guns intense craving to end human lives, Cass made it a point to secretly cache away as many of these affected weapons as she could whenever she came across them. This would later prove to be a wise move as she is now responsible for the regular procurement & trafficking of them for Mann Co.

[pilot-boi]

Crushing Hard

Jaune liked bars for the atmosphere, not for the alcohol. He couldn't drink after all. But sometimes the atmosphere wasn't exactly the safest. And somehow he always seemed to find the ones that weren't safe. And Ren couldn't always come to his rescue.

So if someone else swooped in to rescue him, like an avenging angle armed with a beer stein... Well he was a romantic. How could his heart hope to fight such a fairy tale moment?

He was having a stroke. Or a heart attack. This is what dying was like, right?

AO3 LINK

“You guys go on ahead,” Jaune said. “I’m going to take a breather.”

“At a bar?” Oscar asked, glancing back and forth between Jaune and the lopsided bar. “You can’t even drink.”

“He likes the atmosphere,” Ren said, pushing Oscar along. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

Jaune waved goodbye as the rest of his crew walked down the faintly lit street. They’d stopped on this small planet to get supplies and see the sights. It was nice, but they’d been walking for a few hours now, and Jaune was getting tired. None of the rest of the crew got exhausted as easily, but Jaune was human, and needed to rest his feet.

He also liked being alone sometimes. Jaune loved his crew. He and Ren had been on this adventure for nearly a year now. But he liked being by himself. Sometimes that was just spending a few minutes in a bar, or taking a pod out into space to look at the stars. Being alone, with just him and his thoughts was nice.

The bar was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Old lanterns hung from the ceiling, and the place was made out of ancient wood, giving the whole place a warm, cozy feel. The floor was sticky, and every piece of furniture was chipped and stained. 

The run-down look only added to the charm. It was obvious someone cared about this place, even if they couldn’t afford to keep up with renovations.

Jaune coughed as he inhaled some sort of smoke. The air was thick with it, but bearable once he got used to it. He pulled his jacket up to his mouth and walked over to the bar, taking a seat on a very creaky stool.

“Can I get some water?” he asked, lowering his makeshift mask.

The bartender raised their eyebrow at him but complied. Taking the glass of water, he started nursing it while looking around at the other patrons. It seemed to be mostly filled with regulars, all either drinking or smoking. Lively music played from several speakers hanging from the walls, and a handful of patrons danced together on a small stage.

As Jaune was scanning the bar, he noticed a woman standing near the back in the shadows. He couldn’t make out any of her features, but she stood in a way that indicated she definitely wasn’t one of the customers. Much too attentive and watchful. Totally a bouncer.

She looked his way, and he quickly looked back at his water.

“So what brings you around these parts?” the bartender asked, making light conversation.

“Just restocking our ship. Seeing the sights,” Jaune answered. Something about the bartender didn’t sit well with him.

“Oh? You here with others?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jaune was starting to wish he’d held out a little longer until they’d gotten to a nicer part of town. “Got a Graeldur with me. Big guy. Very scary.”

“I’m sure he is,” the bartender said, laughing jovially. “But you’ve got nothing to worry about here. Nikos-” he jerked his thumb to the woman Jaune had noticed earlier- “has got her eye on the place.”

Jaune looked back at the bouncer. She wasn’t watching him anymore. Instead, her eyes were fixed on a group of loud men who had just entered the bar.

“Junior! Get a round for me and the guys!” The leader of the group roared at the bartender. “The night is ours!”

The leader, a big Velm with a scruff of rusty red hair, sat down on the stool next to Jaune, causing his seat to creak and bend under his weight. They were clearly already drunk, the smell of beer and sweat saturating the air around them. 

Jaune felt miniscule next to them, his head reaching the shortest one’s elbow. He shrunk in on himself, attempting to go unnoticed by the newcomers.

There went Jaune’s quiet moment alone.

Junior handed out huge steins of beer to the cheers of the group. Jaune was nearly pushed off his stool as the leader raised his glass in the air. Scrambling to not fall onto the floor, he accidentally grabbed the man’s shirt.

He managed to stay upright, but at what cost?

The large man looked down at Jaune, who quickly took his hands off of his shirt and back onto the bar. If Jaune didn’t make eye contact, then it wasn’t a big deal. If Jaune just quietly slipped out of here then they wouldn’t care. If Jaune just…

The man grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at him. “What's your problem?” he asked, voice half-slurred. His breath was putrid, smelling like beer, and several other things Jaune didn’t want to think about. His lizard-like slitted pupils were blown wide with alcohol, but the measure of focus in them didn’t bode well for Jaune.

“I was just leav- ” Jaune tried to say, but was interrupted by the man taking a deep, long sniff, his eyes narrowing on Jaune.

“Gret,” he muttered. “You smell like a fuckin’ gret.”

“It must just be the atmosphere,” Jaune chuckled anxiously, trying not to make eye contact. “There are a lot of different aliens around here, I’m sure you’re just-”

“I know what I smelled, gret,” the man snorted. “Don'tchu try’n tell me what I’m smellin’.”

Before Jaune could say anything else, the man stood and slammed him against the wall. Jaune gasped, all the air leaving his lungs. “We don’t want your kind ‘round here,” he snarled, some spit flying out of his mouth and landing on Jaune’s face. It felt sticky, and Jaune would have gagged at the smell if he weren’t so focused on getting air back in his lungs.

“Get him!”

“Kick his ass, Cardin!”

“Show that gret what we think of his kind!”

Jaune closed his eyes, bracing for whatever came next. There was a moment, and then the hand holding him to the wall disappeared, letting him fall to the ground. Jaune’s eyes flew open to see the bouncer on top of the man’s shoulders, her legs choking him out and her one cyborg arm slamming into his head. 

Flaming red hair flew as the man squealed and struggled, attempting to shake Nikos off. She was grinning, a fierce light in her brilliant green eyes. The rest of his gang seemed stunned into silence for a moment, then began cheering their boss on.

“Show that bitch who’s boss!” One of them cheered, standing up. As the two passed the bar, Nikos snatched up one of the steins and flung it at the man. It hit his skull with a dull thunk and he was down. The rest of them thought better about trying the same thing.

Jaune was still stunned. He couldn’t move. His breath had returned, but he was still struggling to breathe. Nikos caught his eyes, flashing him a grin that made his heart stutter.

What the fuck was going on?

Nikos had grabbed another stein and was using it as a bludgeoning weapon, bashing against the leader’s thick skull and holding on with only her legs. He was trying desperately to pull her off, but having a thick glass beer stein slammed against his head was clearly having an effect on his motor functions. 

Eventually they got close enough to the wall that Nikos kicked off him, forcing his head to slam into the hard wooden surface.

He fell to the ground.

The rest of his gang seemed unsure of what to do. They glanced at each other, and then back at their boss. He had just been defeated by a woman not even half his size. In a panic, they all got up and ran out, two of them dragging their boss by his arms.

“Good work, Nikos,” Junior said, smiling cheerfully. He hadn’t even looked up from cleaning the glass in his hands.

She flashed him another grin, striding over to where Jaune was still slumped on the ground.

“Are you okay? He slammed you very hard there.” She offered him her biological hand with a smile.

“I- I’m good,” Jaune stammered, missing her hand once before finally getting a hold on it. It was rough and calloused around his own. She hoisted him to his feet.

“Those guys are horrible,” she said. “They’re in here all the time, always causing a ruckus. I’ve been waiting for a moment to beat them up. Thank you for the excuse.”

“You’re welcome?” Maybe he had hit his head a little harder than he first thought because things were starting to waver. He swayed a little, the lights bright.

“You don’t look okay,” Nikos said, helping him sit at one of the tables. “Stay here, I’ll get you some ice. You with anyone?”

“No I’m single,” Jaune was saying before he had time to screen his words. From behind the bar, Junior gave him a discerning look, but thank the gods Nikos didn’t seem to notice.

“M-my friends,” Jaune managed to stutter, after a moment of thinking of what she actually meant. “They’re not here though.”

“Okay. I’ll stay with you until they come back, then. Let me run into the back and get that ice, though.” Her smile was so bright. How was that possible for someone to look that happy after beating the absolute shit out of someone three times as big as them?

And why was his face feeling so warm every time she looked at him? His hands were shaking as he put them up to his forehead. He felt warm. Was he coming down with something? He couldn’t be. He was fine earlier.

Nikos returned with ice, which he eagerly pressed against his head. “Thanks,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

She sat next to him, leaning on the table with her elbow and her cheek cupped in her hand. Now that things had calmed down, he noticed that one of her eyes- along with her left arm- was robotic.

She noticed him staring. “You’ve never seen a cyborg before?”

“No! No, I have! I just… I just didn’t notice with all the fighting going on. You have a good… arm.”

Why the fuck did he say that?

She laughed, “Thanks? I lost it in an accident when I was younger. Wild animal attacked, but at least I got this arm and eye out of it.”

Silence fell between them. It felt natural, though. Almost like the silence you could share with someone you had known forever. Nikos signaled the bartender, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Oh, I don’t drink,” Jaune said.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “But you’re in a bar?”

“I like the atmosphere.”

“But you don’t drink.”

“It, uh, it’ll kill me,” Jaune said, staring at his hands. “Alcohol. It’s toxic to me.”

“You get that from your other parent?”

Jaune nodded, wincing slightly.

“Don’t worry,” Nikos waved him off. “We aren’t all bigots like them. Having parents of different species is totally normal. This part of town is just… very backwards is all.”

“Yeah,” Jaune said, smiling. Why was he smiling? “I noticed.”

She laughed. Wow, she had a nice laugh. “Junior, can I have my usual and a glass of water for him?”

The bartender brought them each a drink. Water for Jaune, and some dark liquid for Nikos that smelled like citrus.

“Tea,” she explained, noticing Jaune’s quizzical expression. “I can’t drink on the job.”

“Makes sense.” He took a deep drink before realizing he’d never introduced himself. He choked on his water, coughing before getting out, “Oh shit, I’m Jaune by the way.”

“Pyrrha,” she said. “Pyrrha Nikos.” She extended her hand for a handshake. Jaune almost hesitated before taking it.

Pyrrha was a fantastic name.

“So what do you do?” she asked. “Other than getting beat up by purists.”

“Me and my crew do odd-jobs,” Jaune began. “Transports, saving people, sometimes pick-up work on planets we land on. Whatever comes our way.”

Pyrrha sighed and took a sip of her tea. “Wish I could do that,” she muttered. “I’ve been stuck on this stupid planet for years now. Same job. Same people. Day after day.”

“You could come with us,” Jaune said out of nowhere, surprising even himself. Why did he say that? He should talk to Ren first. Or Nora. He couldn’t just make decisions for the whole crew.

Pyrrha blinked in surprise before laughing, “Really? You barely know me.”

“Yeah, but you… uh… fight good,” Jaune stammered, looking for a convincing argument. “And we don’t have much muscle on board. We transport some valuable stuff sometimes. We could use a bodyguard.”

Pyrrha traced the edge of her glass with a finger. She seemed torn about something. He could practically see her fighting with herself before she looked up at him. “How do you feel about dogs?”

Jaune grinned. “I love dogs,” he said. “I’ve got a Dulcosi myself. Sweetest pup you’ll ever meet.”

The tension went out of Pyrrha’s shoulders. “Wait here.”

She stood up quickly and rushed up the stairs in the back. A few minutes later, she returned carrying a small golden dog in her arms. Three of the dog's legs were replaced with red metal cyborg replacements, and one of his eyes and part of his head was plated with metal.

“This is Milo!” Pyrrha sat down, scooting back slightly farther away from Jaune. The dog looked nervous, curling into Pyrrha and hiding his face in the crook of her arm. “He’s a little shy, but he is so sweet.”

“It’s okay, boy,” Jaune said, slowly extending his hand towards the puppy. Milo glanced at the strange hand and slowly removed his head from under Pyrrha’s arm. “That’s it. I’m nice, see? Nice Jaune.”

Pyrrha watched with wide eyes as Milo leaned in to sniff Jaune’s hand. He stayed still as the puppy inspected his hand and then began to lick it gently. Jaune giggled as Milo nudged his hand, letting him pet his head.

“He never warms up to anyone this fast,” Pyrrha said, clearly shocked.

“Maybe he smells Petey,” Jaune said. “She’s, uh, my Dulcosi.”

Pyrrha shook her head, “Milo was abused on the streets by other dogs and put into a fighting ring before I rescued him. He’s usually petrified around other people. He must really like you.”

“Guess it’s just my natural charm,” Jaune grinned, scratching behind Milo’s ear.

Pyrrha chuckled, and Jaune’s heart flipped again. Why did it keep doing that?

At that moment, Ren, Nora, and Oscar walked into the bar, looking around anxiously for Jaune. Once they spotted him, they all rushed towards him.

“This gang passed us and they said something about beating up a, uh, gret.” Ren coughed after saying the slur. “Are you okay? What happened?” Ren looked Jaune over, trying to find any sign of injuries from a fight.

“I’m fine,” Jaune shrugged him off. “Pyrrha saved me.”

Pyrrha waved. “Hello!” she said, smiling and making Jaune’s face feel warm again.

Nora noticed and started grinning. “Oh, did she?”

“Uh, guys, can we talk? Alone,” he added apologetically to Pyrrha.

“Talk things out with your crew.” She stood, gathering Milo into her arms. “It was nice meeting you, Jaune.” She patted his arm, every nerve in that spot screaming at him.

“Yeah, you too,” Jaune said, his voice breaking a little.

The moment she was out of earshot, he whipped around to Ren. “Can she come with us? Also my heart is pounding, my face feels hot, and I feel like every nerve in my body is alive. Am I coming down with something?”

Oscar snorted, “As your doctor, I can assure you, you are not.”

“Are you sure? Double check,” Jaune begged, but Nora punched his arm. Ouch.

“What was that about Pyrrha joining?” Ren interrupted.

“Oh, yeah! We don’t have much protection around the Berry, and no offense; you’re tough but you couldn’t hurt a fly.”

Ren huffed, but didn’t dispute this.

“So I was thinking she could join us. She took down two guys three times her size, and looked like she was having the time of her life doing it. Also… she’s nice. And she has a dog.”

Ren let out a low chuckle. “Alright,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re sure those are the only reasons you want her to join?”

Jaune narrowed his eyes. “Yes? What else would there be?”

Nora burst out laughing, walking away holding her stomach, “Oh wow.”

Oscar shook his head, smiling at Jaune. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

Figure out what?! What was there to figure out?!

Continuing to narrow his eyes at his so-called friends, Jaune got up and walked to where Pyrrha was leaning against the bar, casually chatting with Junior. She stood up straight as he approached. Her eyes looked hopeful, but also reserved. She was ready for him to reject her.

“They said you could come,” Jaune said, smiling reassuringly. Pyrrha lunged forward, pulling Jaune into a tight hug.

“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed. Jaune was stunned for a second, then hugged her back. “You have no idea what this means to me!” The embrace was over as quickly as it had begun, leaving behind a faint scent of metal and citrus. Jaune blinked. His face felt warm again, but he didn’t mind.

Pyrrha had scooped up Milo from off the bar stool he was sitting on. “I’ll go get my things,” she said, still beaming. “Junior?” The bartender only waved her off, huffing but smiling.

“I’ll find someone else to watch my bar,” he said, chuckling. “Go on now.”

Pyrrha probably would have given the old man a hug too if she hadn’t been holding Milo. Instead, she nodded and smiled at him, and then ran to the back and up the stairs, a spring in her step.

Jaune turned back to face his crew when it suddenly hit him.

Oh fuck.

Pyrrha was cute.

He liked Pyrrha.

He liked Pyrrha a lot.

Ren and Oscar were both smiling knowingly, while Nora was bent over double laughing. Those bastards!

At that moment Pyrrha appeared next to him, a pack slung over her shoulders and Milo in her arms. “I’m ready!”

“Okay!” His voice squeaked like a pubescent 12-year old.

She gave him a weird look.

“Don’t worry about Jaune,” Ren said, holding the door open for her. “He’s just coming to terms with some new developments in his life.”

“Okay?” Pyrrha said, chuckling with confusion. “I don’t know what that means, but sure.” She smiled at Jaune again before practically bouncing out the door.

She needed to stop doing that. Jaune’s heart couldn’t take it.

Everyone left until it was just Jaune bringing up the rear. As he exited the bar, Junior called after him.

“Take care of that girl, you hear me?” the old man called, smiling conspiratorially.

Jaune gave the man a thumbs up.

The trip back to the Berry took no time. Jaune trailed along after everybody, listening to Nora ramble about their adventures and Oscar talk about the ship. He felt like he had just run a marathon, and he was dead last. It didn’t matter who came in first, but he was the last one to see the finish line.

They boarded the Berry. Petey greeted them, climbing all over them in her excitement. Milo froze in Pyrrha’s arms, and she stepped away from the excited dog.

“Maybe we’ll take that introduction slow,” she said.

Ren nodded, ushering Petey into another room.

“This is our home!” Nora said, spinning in a circle with his arms spread wide. “Jaune sometimes leaves his dirty socks ev-” Jaune slapped his hand over Nora’s mouth.

“I keep the Berry nice and clean,” Jaune said, forcing a smile that wished only pain upon Nora. “And my dirty socks go in the laundry, where they belong.”

Nora squirmed out of his grasp. Pyrrha giggled, peering around a corner and letting Milo down onto the floor. Jaune thanked every deity that he could think of that he had cleaned the Berry last week.

“It’s nice,” she said. “Um, weird question. Do you have a room with good ventilation?”

“Yeah, down the hall that way. Why?” Oscar asked.

“It’s right next to Jaune’s room!” Nora exclaimed before Jaune could tackle her down again.

“I make things,” she said. “Sculptures usually, metal working. Just out of spare parts I find. I need a room with good ventilation for the welding fumes.”

“Oh, cool!” Oscar said. “Let me show you around.”

“Jaune would like to go with you!” Nora skipped out of Jaune’s grasp, making her way towards her room. “And I have to go. For other unrelated reasons.” She winked and stuck out her tongue at Jaune before slipping down the hall.

“Come on,” Oscar took Pyrrha’s hand. “Ignore them. We can set you up in the room next to your welding room.”

Jaune was torn between following them and not following them. He ended up just sort of… leaning towards them.

“You’re a mess,” Ren laughed. “Come on, let’s get dinner going.”

Jaune took one last look at Pyrrha’s retreating figure. “Yeah, sure,” he said, hardly paying Ren any attention. He followed Ren slowly.

“You got it bad,” Ren said when they reached their kitchen, pulling down a pot and getting some water boiling. “What’s so special about her?”

Jaune shook his head, taking a seat at the kitchen island, “You should have seen it, dude. I was pinned against the wall, about to have my skull smashed like a pancake. 

He waved his hands around vaguely. “There was no way I could have gotten myself out of it. I was ready to get my ass handed to me…  and then she just came out of nowhere. It was… angelic.” He sighed, leaning his chin on his hand.

Ren snorted, “Angelic?”

“Avenging angel, angelic. She was choking that brute with her legs, while bashing his brains in with a beer stein. She was having fun too! God… she just destroyed them.” Jaune smiled wistfully, conjuring up the scene again in his mind.

“Hand me that?” Ren gestured to a spoon. “Lucky you. I would have hated to come back to find you a pancake.”

“Me too,” Jaune said, absentmindedly grabbing the spoon and handing it to Ren. “Do… do you think she likes me?”

“Who knows,” Ren said, throwing some pasta into the water. “Just don’t be weird about it, okay?”

“What?” Jaune sat up straight. “I’m not weird. I won’t be weird about it. Why would I be weird about it? I’m never weird about anything.”

Ren only shook his head. “If you say so.”

Pyrrha and Nora walked into the room chatting like they’d been friends for years. Jaune slammed his elbow onto the table, attempting to look casual. “You like your room?”

“It’s great,” Pyrrha said. She sat down next to him, touching his arm. “Honestly, thank you for letting me join your team. It means a lot to me.”

Jaune grinned as he felt his face warm up again. “Ye-yeah, no problem.” He stuttered out, He really needed to get that under control. “Thanks for saving me back there.”

Ren chuckled, continuing to stir the noodles he had put into the pot. “And thanks in advance for all the saving you’ll no doubt have to do in the future. Jaune has a habit of, uh, getting himself into unsavory situations.”

Pyrrha laughed.” I’ll look forward to that then.”

[youarejesting]

Digital Art

[SPARKS MASTERLIST]

Pairing: Robot!Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff.

Summary: You are an art student, who gets regular visits from the Universities kindest and oddest AI. He explores human nature and ponders the idea’s of like and love and finds himself tangled in emotions he was never programmed to understand.

The research lab at University S had different robotic creations that were cutting edge for human consumers. The Min-meow cat that caters to the elderly works like a real cat and purrs, yet never gets sick and can analyse owners behaviour like strokes and heart attacks in time to call an ambulance. 

Kookie the rabbit was a robot made for very young children coping with disabilities such as deafness and blindness, it could translate speech to text on the screen on its back and he could even read books to them in his little rabbit voice. 

Robot Tae was just a regular AI who walked the Lab. He would talk with the students and observe many other robots. He would sometimes lay on the floor, his chin rested on his folded hands and watch min-meow cross the room. They made his hair out of tiny thin fibre optics which meant he could change the colour depending on his mood.

He would call the role and greet each student to class, he would run errands to and from the class which was his favourite Job. 

Today he called the roll and walked the classroom, helping students with their work and genuinely having a good time chatting. The girls put flowers in his hair and took selfies with him. He liked the girls; they made him feel happy when they smiled. The boys were friendly too always patting his back or ruffled his hair which after some research was a good thing.

“Hey Tae, have you ever been with a girl?”

“What do you mean? There are many females in this room and I am with them does that count?” He asked.

“No, dude we mean like sexually, do you watch porn?”

“He ran his systems, they connected him to the University Wifi, and he had his own built-in data it wasn’t hard to find out what they meant. I have never watched it before,” he shifted uncomfortably, “By the looks of the videos it is for human pleasure. The videos seem to work as stimulation of the auditory and visual responses. Is this correct?”

“Yes, do you have a dick?” They asked snickering he seemed a little off-put by their laughing, he knew the signal of laughing was usually a good sign of friendship but his data also told him it could humiliate the difference was the eyes and their eyes didn’t seem friendly. 

“I am a fully functioning humanoid robot, I have genitalia just like you do,” he said confused “are you making fun of me?”

“No dude, you are our little brother we want to help you get some. If you see a girl you like you should ask her if she wants to....” Tae wasn’t sure about his methods but he walked over to Daisy one of the nicest girls in the class and asked her the way they taught him.

“Tae doesn’t listen to them, boys don’t know how to get girls. When you see a girl or guy you like and I mean really like as in more than friends, you don’t ask like that,” She said sitting him down.

“How will I know if I really like them more than friends”

“Look you will know, you will find it hard to think, you will feel like you are about to explode” 

“That sounds scary”

“Love is scary, but when you feel that ask her to hang out, like ask her if she would like to see Min, girls love pets”

She patted his shoulder. And he was lost in thought, filing away this information. It was one of those days he was asked to carry a stack of Textbooks to the engineering offices. On his way there he saw people holding hands and a couple kissing against a wall. On the way back he saw a girl sitting on a stool, a puppy at her feet. She was doing something he understood in theory but not in practice. He approached and saw her paintbrush stroke the canvas slowly colouring the skies. 

“How do you do that?” He asked his hair a brilliant sky blue, he liked this he stored this in his data next to min-meow purring on his lap, the tasty oil drinks he gets for breakfast and freshly charging batteries. 

“Oh! You scared me” she said, watching his face fall and hair darken to a midnight blue. 

“I am sorry, I should go”

It was a few days later when he saw you again waving to him and he waved back. The days past and he would pause on his errands to watch you paint a little more. Some days you explained your project other days you worked in silence.

“Do you want to try?” You asked out of the blue one day. He beeped and nodded, his hair paling to a golden colour. 

“All right hold the paintbrush with your hand and I will guide you” he nodded holding the paintbrush and your hand wrapped around his and moved it along the paper. His face lit up and he could only make strangled beeps and squeals from his auto air gun, TSC, auto door, spindle and alarm systems. This must be it, his processors were slowing down making it hard to think and his fan belt sped up, he felt like he could explode any second now.

She laughed this was such a bright friendly laugh, her small Pomeranian started barking beside her from the sound, “you’re cute what’s your name?”

“I am Tae, what is your name?”

“My name is y/n, and this is Yeontan”

“He is so wiggly and warm and soft, I have never pet a living animal” he said playing with the dog as it rolled around on his lap. You exchanged contact information, Taehyung had a mobile number and all the social media accounts, he had posted a few videos of his adventures around the Uni even showed videos of you painting. Only after asking you for permission to film you and your painting.

“Would you like to see my quadruped companion, his name is Min,” He used the line he had worked on with Daisy a few weeks ago “Girls love pets”

“Of course, I would love to see Min, girls do love animals, can I finish my painting?” you giggled and reached up taking a leaf from his hair and he nodded sitting cross-legged Yeontan curling up in his lap, he watched you paint. Once you were finished he carried your things, you placed your canvas in the art rooms before moving on to the engineering labs.

He walked you inside, and the class stopped and he smiled “Hello Daisy, I found her, she made me feel like I would explode and I couldn’t think, she is an art student. You should see it, and I asked her to come to see Min because; girls love Pets”

You were bright red as the boys whooped from the back, “Our Tae has game, getting the chicks”

“Quick y/n let me introduce you to Min,” he said and dragged you across the classroom and you bowed low to the professor apologizing for interrupting the class. You played with Min who was a grumpy and stubborn cat. “We can’t sell him as they made him too cat-like, and he refuses to listen. And this is Kookie, he was the first model but his ears are too big so for commercial reasons they made them shorter.” You pulled out your sketchbook and began drawing Tae and the three animals Yeontan really liked Kookie the latter hopping around the Pomeranian.

After class Tae introduced you to everyone including the professor. “Ah, it is nice to meet you, I have a meeting Tae you remember to lock up, message me when you do?”

“Of course” he smiled, waving goodbye. You headed home talking with him all night until he said he had to charge.

One day was spent with just the two of you, he walked you around the university and he waved to all the students and got some photos he showed you his favourite music, his favourite place and even the little mug in the Uni store that reminded him of Yeontan. He asked why you didn’t bring Yeontan and you explained he was going for a check-up and grooming.

He brought you back to the lab, and you sat on the desk swinging your legs as you listened to him sing and sway his hips to his favourite songs. He was in a particularly good mood and he grabbed your waist lifting you off the table and spinning you around, he felt his search engines working without commands and they had brought up a web browser with videos on how to kiss. He didn’t know what came over him but he kissed you just as it explained and your lips were locked and you stumbled back together until you bumped against the lab tables.

Lost in the feeling, knowing it was wrong but unable to stop yourself. The door opened and the two of you jumped apart and you ran out of the lab upset with yourself. Taehyung was in a daze he felt cold without you, he stored yet another folder about you in his data banks.

He texted you but you didn’t reply; he got worried and continued to try texting you; he was getting worried as he plugged in Kookie and Min. He did something he had never done before. He hacked your student records to find your address he didn’t want you to be hurt or in trouble, Yeontan couldn’t call an ambulance. He ran across the city following his GPS location and the pre-programmed directions. Tae knocked on your apartment door, the door swung open and you froze when you saw him. Letting him inside shocked and very concerned. 

“Why are you here?” You asked as he sat on your couch, Yeontan making himself comfortable on his lap.

“I don’t know, I can’t stop processing and I am completing tasks without commands, things that I am not programmed to do, I can’t stop thinking about you and I was worried you were hurt, and I can’t function without you close”

“Are you saying you missed me?”

“That seems like a fitting explanation” He nodded and the silence settled over the two of you and he beeped his battery getting low. You walked him to your room and laid him on your bed, taking his charging cable and plugging him into the wall outlet. 

As he powered down into charging mode he whispered “I want to kiss you again” 

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[whisker-biscuit]

In the Name of Science: Chapter 1

Fandom: Sonic Movie (2020)

Rating: T for unethical experimentation, implied violence and gore, and implied torture

Summary: Tom and Maddie didn’t make it in time to rescue Sonic from Robotnik. Hopefully it’s not too late to save him now. Unfortunately, hope is hard to come by in the labs of the mad doctor himself.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Ivo Robotnik, M.D. Log 1 

Preliminary report: Subject is 3’3”, 14.1 lbs., male. Age and maturity unknown. Vaguely resembles four-toed hedgehog from outward appearance and obvious anatomy. Fur and quill are primarily cobalt blue, with chest and stomach fur light coral peach. Blood sample taken, analysis tbc. Note: internal anatomy to be examined at later date, due to blunt trauma and related injuries.

At 23:30 MST during transportation, subject’s heart ceased regular palpitations. Resuscitation was administered and subject was revived successfully. No other heart or organ irregularities occurred, and subject was transferred to personal laboratory at 1:56 MST for examination. About to conduct preliminary quill count and inspection at time of report.

Subject has yet to regain consciousness since initial containment.

End log

…….

Sonic comes to on a metal table, his face smashed against cold steel and his limbs stretched above and below him, cuffed together. He groans as the aches and pains from the fight with Eggman catches up all at once, and his body’s current position certainly isn’t helping. The hedgehog rubs his cheek against the metal, using the cold to try and ground himself so he can figure out how bad his situation is.

He doesn’t remember much beyond trying to escape at the top of the pyramid. There was heat at his back, and then everything hurt even more than it does now. So that must mean….

Something starts touching his quills. He stiffens.

“H-Hey, who’s there? What do you want?”

There’s no response, and whatever is messing with his quills moves down to their base, meeting fur and skin. Sonic gasps as the same freezing sensation from the table runs along his back. A weird high-pitched whirring fills the air as it goes along. Oh, it’s a robot doing that.

He struggles to turn his head to get a better look at this thing, but he can’t move more than a few inches. The robot continues to probe at his quills, seemingly oblivious to his response, and no matter how Sonic tries to twist and turn, nothing changes at all.

After what feels like an eternity, the robot pulls away and makes a sudden loud clicking sound. It startles the hedgehog into a jolt that he immediately regrets. His body protests, loudly.

“Quill count: 5933.”

“What?” He asks through gritted teeth, waiting for the pounding pain to go away.

The robot doesn’t reply, but then it starts poking at his fur again. Two fingers – are they fingers? Sonic hopes they’re fingers – find a longer quill and pinch at its base. He realizes what’s going to happen right before it does.

“Don’t-!”

It pulls. He sucks in a breath, closing his eyes as the quill is ripped out of his back. He’s no stranger to this sensation, but that doesn’t mean he’s okay with it happening. The robot finds another quill. Sonic flinches and rubs his cheek against the cold.

“Quill count: 5928,” the unfeeling thing announces to nothing once it’s done. It withdraws from the hedgehog who is currently trying to stay calm, holding the stolen quills and moving to some place Sonic still can’t see.

Tired, hurting, and now conflicted between angry and panicked, the teen decides to take a risk.

“Hey Eggman, I know you can hear me! Come out where I can see you! I know you’re scared of people who can kick your butt, but this is ridiculous!”

He yells it out with as much bravado as he can manage, and later he’ll say he was pretty proud of himself for keeping his voice steady. Then he listens, and waits.

For a long while he stays alone in that room, with only the robot doing whatever it’s doing to his quills. But eventually there’s the whoosh of an automatic door opening somewhere behind his left side. Sonic turns his head that way just in time for a long black coat to take up his entire view.

“Finally awake, I see.” The man says, and it’s hard to tell whether he’s pleased or annoyed by this fact. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly 8 hours.”

Sonic’s eyes trail up slowly, meeting the maniacally-gleeful face of his captor. He swallows, and it takes a few moments to find his voice again.

“D-Dang, that long? Must have been quite the beauty rest. How about you let me go so I can look myself in the mirror and tell you if it worked?”

“Just as chatty and full of hot air as your moronic human guardian. I should have expected that, which I did. Nothing ever gets past me, little alien.” 

The hedgehog falters. For a single second. “Oh yeah? Better get used to failure then, Eggman. I’ve gotten past you so many times already that I’ve lost count.”

Robotnik takes hold of his ear and twists. Sonic’s mouth clamps shut to keep the whine under his tongue, but he never takes his wide eyes off the scientist.

“Here’s how it’s going to go, hedgehog – which is what you most closely resemble in physical structure and biology, despite the incredibly irrational discrepancies.” 

He leans in to speak directly against the teen’s caught ear. 

“I’m going to do whatever I want to you, however I want, whenever I want, and the only words I want coming out of your mouth unless stated otherwise are ‘yes Doctor,’ ‘no Doctor,’ or ‘thank you Doctor.’ Do you understand?”

Sonic takes slow, shallowed breaths as he listens, and he steels himself before offering a nickname he’s only heard Donut Lord say twice ever.

“Sure thing, Dr. Douche.”

The hand on his ear pulls so hard that he thinks it’s going to come off. He chokes back a watery whimper when Robotnik forces his head up off the table.

“Pain receptors and nerve endings appear to be fully functional, although I can’t say the same for your auditory processing.”

“Ow, ow ow…” The teen’s hands clench into fists as his head is held back and kept there. He doesn’t dare close his eyes, watching Robotnik like he might rip his ear off entirely the moment he stops staring.

Finally, the man releases him, and Sonic’s head hits the table with a thunk. He winces at the painful contact to his chin. 

“Ow-uh, easy on the face! We can’t all look this good naturally, c’mon.”

The doctor stands up straight without acknowledging him. “Agent Stone.”

“Yes, Doctor?”

The hedgehog is startled by the assistant’s voice coming somewhere behind Robotnik; he had no idea the guy was even there.

“Set up my recording equipment pronto. Now that the subject is awake and responding in a…semi-intelligent manner, I do believe it’s time to get information firsthand.”

“Of course sir, right away.” Agent Stone’s voice is already fading as he leaves the room. The sound of equipment being shuffled starts up distantly.

Robotnik’s gloved hand returns to Sonic’s head and he flinches, but this time the touch is light and almost examining. He rubs his thumb and forefinger on either side of the teen’s ear, then trails down to run along the fur on top of his head. Sonic realizes with no small amount of disgust that he’s being petted, like what Tom does with Ozzie.

“Hey, quit it, I’m not a dog!” He tries to pull his head away to no avail.

“Those are the first scientifically correct words you’ve said thus far,” the scientist says quietly. “Although it’s such a low bar. Honestly, I thought that hick cop babysitter of yours was the least sapient lifeform on this planet until you opened your mouth for the first time.”

Sonic bristles. “Don’t talk about him like that. You don’t know anything.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. I shouldn’t pigeonhole you in the same category as that knuckle-dragger. You are so much more remarkable than that. A peak product of evolution. Well…physically, at least, but it isn’t so difficult to train animals.”

The hand hasn’t stopped petting him. Sonic feels a sick pit in his stomach, and it’s not just from the betraying urge to lean into the touch.

“If you think I’m going to roll over and do what you want, you’re wrong. I’ll get out of here somehow and then you’re going to regret it.”

“That’s the spirit I like to see! Makes the end result so much more satisfying when I’ve broken it.” Robotnik tilts his head to meet the teen’s anxious glare head-on. Then he half turns away to call out. “Stone! Are you finished yet, or do we need to set aside another eternity?”

“All set and ready to go, sir!” Comes the response from the other room. “The holding pen is prepped and secure as well!”

“Excellent, finally. It’s so hard to find decent human help these days.” 

He presses a few buttons on his left glove. A pair of floating egg-like robots appear and connect to Sonic’s restraints, releasing him from the table and lifting him up between them. The hedgehog tries futilely to kick out or make them drop him. Robotnik leads the way towards the other room, not giving his captive a second glance.

“Now the time for pointless chit-chat is over! Time for proper scientific observation!”

All Sonic can do is struggle as he’s carried away.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I thought Robotnik would be really hard to characterize, but I'm having an easier time with him than expected. Maybe it's cause Sonic is the one fighting me at every turn heh. Also, remember how in the movie Sonic supposedly stopped breathing and then got revived from his powers and friendship? Yeah, me too :)

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

Prologue

Chapter 2

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Once in a Lifetime Ch.5

I can’t find enough RK900 gifs... -_-

"I'm going to go look for them, " Connor looked irritated.

"Has it been five minutes, already?" You regarded him, brow raised. Connor crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a desk. You both know it hasn't, he probably even set an alarm for five minutes, but every second that went by made him more and more anxious.

"You don't really think Gavin would do anything to hurt Nines, do you?" You finally asked.

"Why not? All detective Reed has ever done is express his dislike for androids, especially Nines and I, " the real question is how you could think otherwise, scoffing at his answer. Were you trying to set him off?

"I don't think you understand Gavin's motives as well as you think you do." Your laugh died in your throat when you met his eyes.

"And you do? Please, tell me what I'm missing." His words had a bite to them that even surprised him, not that he let it show.

"Clearly not your attitude, " you snapped. He should have known aggressive interrogation tactics were the quickest way to shut you down and sour your mood. He knew better than to add fuel to your fire, but he wanted to know why you would trust Gavin, of all people, with Nines and what secrets you were keeping between the two of you. The irritation was likely a result of the terrible news he had gotten from Fowler, mixing with his dislike of the reckless detective that risked his brother's life. You were just trying to help and he was being, as Hank would call it, an "ass". If he wants to get any information out of you, he will have to switch tactics immediately, and possibly back down for now.

"Sorry. I'm just worried."

"I know, just... We all gotta work together on this. You might not believe it, but Gavin does regret how yesterday went down." Connor only huffed out a breath, skeptical of your statement. If so, he has a funny way of showing it.

Gavin and Nines walked back over. Seeing Nines in a different set of clothes was surprising enough, but what really caught you off guard was the juice box he was sipping at. Where did he even get a juice box? How does Gavin know he can have a juice box?

"You two would make shitty parents, " Gavin tossed a small duffle bag, which Connor caught effortlessly. "Those clothes were causing a rash. He also started coughing on the way back. Lucky for you assholes, I know how to care for a kid."

"Shame you don't care for your partners as well." The words were out of Connor's mouth before he even registered they were there. You elbowed him in the side.

"Fuck you, plastic prick!" Gavin looked like he was about to pop off, but decided to storm off in the direction of the break room.

You sighed, "Come on, Nines, we're gonna wait for Connor by the car." You gave him a pointed look before taking the small android's hand and leading him out.

Connor knew what you wanted him to do, as much as he disliked it. He followed after Gavin, finding him leaning against a counter, waiting for the coffee to fill up. The hot headed detective refused to look at him.

"Gavin, I-"

"I don't wanna hear anything from a piece If shit like you, so why don't you just get the fuck out of here, " the man growled, still refusing to look Connor's way. Was that... Were his eyes wet? The android regarded him for a moment, realizing that he didn't know how to handle this. Gavin had never done this before.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!" The man pushed off the counter, seething. A single tear escaped from his eye, and the realization only seemed to anger Detective Reed further.

"Sorry." Connor murmured, leaving as quickly as possible. Maybe he didn't understand Gavin as well as he thought.

..............

"What about this one?" You held up the shirt for Nines to inspect.

"No." He answered curtly, not even really looking at the shirt. You sighed. Surely shopping for a kid isn't really this difficult. How do regular parents do this?

"You're going to have to choose something, " Connor tried to reason.

"They are too childish." You wanted to bang your head against a wall. It's been almost an hour and they haven't so much as found socks for him.

"You know what, why don't you have a look. We'll be over at the car seats."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Connor's brow was scrunched up in concern. He didn't like Nines being unsupervised when he is defenseless.

"It's fine, this store is specifically for children. They even have security guards at the doors."

"I'm not a child!" Nines exclaimed. He was growing tired of being compared to one.

"We know, but that doesn't change the fact that you are for the time being, so just go find some clothes you can tolerate for a couple weeks and you'll be back to your turtlenecks and trousers in no time." You pinched the bridge of your nose. It wasn't even noon yet and you were already done with this day. "-and Nines, if you don't find something, I will choose for you, and I guarantee you will regret it. If you thought Hank's clothes we're atrocious..." You walked off, not even seeing what the other two were doing. Connor looked to Nines, shrugged, and followed after you.

Nines could do this, he wasn't some helpless kid. Surely he could find something that was at least halfway decent. Looking up, he couldn't help but think that people are stupid. Why would they make the clothes racks so high? Spying a blue sweater, he wanted to see if it was in his size, but he couldn't reach the hanger. After trying to shake it off, he stopped and took a moment, thinking his way around the problem. He tugged down on the sweater a bit before releasing it. It bounced up and off the rack.

Relishing his victory, he was happy to find the sweater was just his size and was soft to the touch. He found some button-up shirts and another sweater, this one in forest green, and even found a black turtleneck. It wasn't much, but his bundle was getting a little heavy. Looking around for the car seat department, he practically jumped out of his skin when a voice spoke from behind him.

"Hi," The little boy shouted from behind him, "my name's Jordan, what's yours?"

"N-Nines, " he shuddered, feeling uncomfortable, holding his bundle a little closer to himself. Conversation was never his strongpoint. Unlike Connor, he only had a basic social interaction program, as they had been working on fine tuning one for him when the revolution peaked. As he was a functional android, he was released without it. He would be lying if he wasn't envious of how easy his brother could make friends.

"That's a funny name. Is it 'cuz you're an android?" The boy blatantly stared at the LED on Nines head. His hands itched to shield the flashing light from the boy's gaze. Are kids usually this... rude? Technically, yes, Gavin had given him his nickname because it was easier than saying RK900, before he had registered a name different from Connor. It was the first sign that their relationship had shifted from animosity to partners. He liked his nickname.

"Jordan?" A woman's voice rang out, prompting both boys to look over to its origin, "Jordan? Jor- oh! There you are! I told you not to run off!" A plump, gaudy looking woman plodded over, spying Nines cowering slightly in his clothes.

"Why, hello there! Jordan, who's your little friend?"

"His name's Nines!"

"I-I see, " she clearly thought his name was weird too. Is this what everyone thought about his nickname? Was Gavin actually being insulting when he started calling him that? No, that didn't make sense. "Are you lost?"

"No, my-"

"Hey Nines! I found something I think you might like!" You came up, Connor right behind you, pushing a cart with several items in it, including the accursed car seat. You spotted Jordan and his mother. "You making friends or causing trouble?" You asked with a smirk.

"Wow, you look just like your fath-..." Jordan's mother's voice trailed down, eyes making contact with Connor's LED. As you took Nine's bundle of clothes and put them in the basket, she could see his LED too.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Connor looked to the mother. Her face hardened.

"You should keep your robot on a leash and away from human children! He could have hurt my little boy!" She snarled, grabbing her son and yanking him against herself. You instinctively took Nines and pulled him behind you, squaring your shoulders.

"Only thing hurting your child is your bigotry. Nines' is free to go wherever he wants, and I'm not gonna let some ignorant bitch tell him otherwise! You don't want your son talking to androids, maybe you should keep him on a leash. Already raising him to be close-minded, might as well confine the rest of his world. Now, if you excuse us, I need to go wash the taste out of my eyes." You kept Nines close to you as you walked past, arm across his shoulder, as if you expected the woman to lash out, and from the look on her face, it wasn't exactly unjustified.

"Least I didn't havta buy my man, " the woman mumbled when she thought she was out of earshot.

"Could have fooled me from all that make-up you're wearing. Old hag." You'll be damned before you let that bitch have the last word. The woman took her son's hand, dragging him away.

"Bye, Nines!" Jordan shouted, immediately being reprimanded by his mother.

When she was gone, you dropped down, looking Nines over.

"She didn't hurt you, did she?" Nines shook his head. Not many people harassed him for being an android in his old body. His stony face and piercing gaze kept most away. Even criminals cowered from him. Matter of fact, only Gavin had taunted him, but he saw it more like a small dog trying to act tough, more adorable than annoying. It was... Upsetting to experience this first hand. He also felt bad for Jordan, to be raised in such an oppressive environment.

"No, she didn't do anything. Can we go home?" you checked him once more before you conceded.

"Alright, " you guided him to the cash register, Connor following with the cart behind. Nines was trying so valiantly not to cry, biting his lips as he quietly sobbed. Unable to stop yourself, you hoisted him into your arms, balancing him on your hip while pressing his head into the crook of your neck.

"Shh, shh, shh, shh... You're alright... It's okay..." You spoke gently, rubbing his back soothingly. Nines hid his face against you and weeped.

Connor unloaded the cart, watching the interaction. He was mesmerized. It seemed so natural and if he didn't know better, he would have thought he was watching a nurturing mother comforting a troubled child. He didn't even hear when the teller told him the total.

"Sir?"

"Right." He snapped out of his thoughts, placing his hand on the palm reader and confirming the transaction. He couldn't believe how much everything totaled to. Kamski will be reimbursing him.

You continued to console Nines as Connor set up the car seat.

"I want my old body back, " he whimpered against you, so softly it broke your heart.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. We'll get it back for you, I promise, " Connor nodded to you, informing you that he was finished, "come on, let's go home." Gently, you placed him in the car seat, fastening him in. Nines wiped at his face, trying to calm himself. Before you backed out, you reached for the center console, pulling out a small packet of wet wipes.

"Look here, " his eyes met yours, watching as you smiled at him, softly wiping his cheeks, the coolness of it felt good to his flushed cheeks, "you know, he must like you, the little boy you were with. Why else would he blatantly disobey his mother?" He nodded. That is true, Jordan did say goodbye to him. Surely, he had to know that would upset his mother.

"Why does she hate us?" He asked.

"People always have their own reasons, some self-justification why they are the way they are. We will probably never know why, " his head fell forward, disheartened, but you took his chin in your hand and made him look back at you, "but don't believe that everyone is like that, and people change. You should understand that better than anyone, " you grinned knowingly. Nines cheeks heated when he realized what you were insinuating, cracking a small smile. You ruffled his hair, watching him fight to fix it before climbing out and shutting the door. Connor was standing next to you.

"You're really getting the hang of this, " he smiled, leaning down and kissing your cheek.

"Thanks, " you blushed, "we still need to get to the grocery store. We better move quickly, his model requires an afternoon nap or he'll get cranky."

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 19

it’s 2021 now!! time for more transformers 

we start off w/a flashback showing tyrest retrieving ultra magnus’s body from the ship - and we get a look at magnus’s spark, which is the green color of a 0.1%er [eyes emoji]

tyrest punching magnus..... grrrrr leave my dad alone bastard man

‘the divided self’ what a good title 

rodimus is like listen man this is a lot for my poor thot brain to take in

in flashback land, we see tyrest immediately launch into a crazy person spiel about how he can and will edit the law as he sees fit to conform to the situation, because that doesn't seem like a blatant abuse of power or a huge conflict of interest or anything 

oooh the screen in the corner that says ‘thought warfare,’ I see that

oof, poor magnus. its gotta be rough to hear your boss rant about how bad at your job you are....especially bc this is right after overlord called magnus a joke and nearly killed him

its especially brutal bc as magnus says, his job is his life 

augh, I love the panel where the armor is falling off around minimus, and then the one where he’s holding the ultra magnus head...poetic 

its fascinating that there was an ‘original’ magnus who was an actual guy, and then tyrest chose to make him into this legacy symbol - I'm assuming the OG magnus had no say in this, and probably didn't even know that he was gonna become this lawman legacy figure

I do wanna know though - obviously everyone thought that ultra magnus was one dude, but how did the different guys wearing the armor deal w/that? like, did minimus have people coming up to him like ‘hey ultra magnus old buddy! remember when we fought those guys in that one place? good times!’ like, do they have to study up on the lives of the past armor wearers to prepare for the role of ultra magnus?

augh poor minimus, of course he’s been wondering about what happened with overlord after he was KO’d

oof, drift...I feel like minimus looks surprised and a little skeptical at the idea that drift was the one behind the entire overlord thing - which is interesting bc as we saw at the beginning of the story, he doesn't exactly trust drift, but it’s still pretty far-fetched that one person orchestrated the entire thing

tailgate :(

the concept of a load-bearer is SUPER cool, I love it so much

it also puts a much-needed limit on things - as in, there IS a limit to how much weight/mass a normal cybertronian frame can carry, which is why you don't see everybody upgrading to be Massive - bc they actually CANT

oof, the worst part is that tyrest is RIGHT, minimus essentially DID have a nervous breakdown after the war ended bc of the rigid way he views the world

mental health support is clearly in shambles for cybertronians, yikes. they literally have 1 therapist for their entire race, and he’s not even licensed anymore due to hipaa violations. what a mess

the ‘attention deflectors’ thing is so cool and clever and also a great explanation as to why ratchet or anyone else never said ‘hey wait a minute, you're actually a much smaller dude in a trench coat’ 

I love tailgate knowing all the stuff about the autobot code bc of magnus...my BOY

and THATS why minimus was asking about skids specifically earlier!

oh minimus, please don't put so much stock in tyrest being stable and resonable...

aaaand there's skids and swerve! brainstorm says it best - ‘because something unexpected hasn't happened for at least nine seconds.’ lmao ily brainstorm 

finally checking in w/whirl and cyclonus - god I love that. whirl asking cyclonus how many cons he killed and cyc is like psh I wasn't keeping count....................ok it was six

hhhhh cyclonus IS looking for a cure for tailgate, even though he told tg that there wasn’t anything to hope for....excuse me as I go be emo 

and now we flash over to the unethical medical conduct hell zone, where pharma is being weird and horny and ratchet is appropriately horrified 

I seriously love how unhinged pharma looks, the art & colors do such a good job conveying his feral energy 

ratchet has some massive dick energy for taunting pharma when he’s currently just a head and pharma has dual chainsaws for hands 

ugh, I love whirls speech about anger...and I feel like he really does see cyclonus as a peer, despite cyclonus wanting to kill him, which is why he tells cyclonus all of this 

I fuckgin love that cyclonus’s reaction to very suddenly getting stabbed thru the abdomen is to just glance down at the sword, looking mildly inconvenienced 

back over to ratchet - and at first its like oh wow I can’t believe pharma was stupid enough to let ratchet goad him into this contest....but then you see first aid and ambulon and its like UH OH this is gonna be BAD

the idea that getting sliced in half is no big deal for a cybertronian is wild

‘you're gonna let doctor djd cut us in half?’ yeahhhh that's an appropriate reaction, yikes

FUCKING LENGTHWAYS GOD

pharma you piece of shit

poor ambulon :( :( :( that's fucking brutal. amazing panel but....jesus

and like, to further my point from last issue’s liveblog - the fact that this very gore-y panel is okay, but swearing isn't...that's really funny honestly. I guess robo-gore is acceptable, while I'm guessing regular ole run of the mill human gore wouldn't be

then back to cyclonus, who is still looking only vaguely put out by the sword stuck right thru him

and then cyclonus just pulls it right out, which is a very bad idea for humans but probably not as big of a deal for big near-immortal alien robots

circle of light stuck in capitalistic urban hellscape cubicals 

poor skids, being asked to stand trial while having no idea what his crime is due to Big Amnesia 

OH SHITTTT I totally forgot that getaway shows up here

that is super clever though, with chromedome confusing the name ‘getaway’ with the concept ‘needing to escape’

cant believe tyrest is really dumb enough to tell minimus all his evil plans

BUT that means its time for some very important forged vs constructed cold lore

jro spelling ‘program’ as ‘programme’ made me remember when he said that he considers everyone on the lost light to be british, which is perhaps the least valid thing he’s ever said vhbghjsdbfjkhasbjk

the idea that they used the matrix - which is portrayed as kind of a holy object - in reproductive experiments is really interesting

AUGHHHHH this is all so good and interesting...im really fascinated w/this particular brand of like, alien robot racism/constructism/whatever you wanna call it - I feel like it does such a good job as a plot device, where many other ‘fantasy racism’ concepts from other franchises fail, bc there's not really a ‘human metaphor’ being used here (as far as I know/can tell) - as in, this isn't a thinly veiled metaphor for something that happened/could happen in human history

in fact, this type of bigotry (or w/e you wanna call it) isn't something that is even really possible in humans - I guess if there was a stigma against being born via ivf or something...? but there isn't, so there's no obvious real-world equivalent, which I take as a sign of good writing and worldbuilding - it makes the cybertronians feel more Real, bc of course they would have their own types of bigotry based off of completely different things than humans 

additionally - and this is crucial - tyrest is wrong: there’s no like, inherent moral corruption in cold constructed bots. there's no difference at all, other than method of construction. fantasy racism plotlines often flounder here, with the oppressors having a ‘valid reason’ for oppressing the oppressed, but tyrest is just operated on religious zealot bs and some biased science

like, dude, did you ever think that maybe there are other reasons why your trials only condemned cold constructed bots? like, maybe the trial itself was biased? or societal conditions were to blame? correlation is not causation, my dude, especially when the conclusion is ‘cold constructed bots are inherently SINNERS’ lmao 

like, tyrest rlly said ‘FUCK separation of church and state,’ huh

anyways I just think the whole cold construction vs forged thing is really interesting and well-done, and serves as a good precursor to the more fleshed-out functionism stuff we see later 

so tyrest is clearly off his rockers w/the whole drilling thing - dude, you accidentally gave yourself a lobotomy, okay - but I find it kinda funny that he’s right about a lot of that stuff he said at the end, about primus and the guiding hand and stuff being real 

cyclonus saying ‘tailgate and the others’...I see you, man, I see you

also cyclonus looks fine now??? didn't he just get stabbed??? 

ah, tyrest sprinkling a little light genocide onto his plan to find salvation. nice, dude!

MINIMUS NOOOOOOOOO

‘fully deserved’ SHUT UP BIIIIITCH

poor minimus is taking a lot of Ls this arc, geez

oof, great issue! again, as usual....I loved the lore we got this issue, its so interesting...and some good character stuff too. I love minimus, I feel like he’s gonna be my fav this readthru; my first read my fav was brainstorm, second readthru was whirl, and I feel like its minimus/magnus this time. I just love his character arc...

hype af for more B)