#cat robot id back

[howspital]

✦ — kittie robot id pack /ᐠ - ˕-マ⌒)ᦱ

requested by @candieclawz

names ﹔

kitro , digi , robetta , catine , cybersel , catbow , robell , kittybell , linebow , botsia , emille , lina , nyaline , meowlita , roletta , cyberbow , catene , catty , botbe , marline , catfria , cerbo , kitna , botbit , kitla , bella , meri , cataline , catbot , katnie , nyala , rina , bobo , bibi , robett , robat

pronouns ﹔

cat / cats , robo / robots , nya / nays , cir / circuit , paw / paws , wire / wires , meow / meows , glitch / glitches , nip / nips , zi / zis , kitty / kittys , fe / line , bell / bells , bot / bots , purr / purrs , whisk / whisker , vy / vym , ke / kim , kit / kits , cer / serbo , net / network , hard / wire , ele / electric , digital / digitals

titles ﹔

the robo kitty / cat , the cyborg feline , prn who is a kitty / cat robot , the kitty / cat with wires , the kittyrobot , prn with wires for whiskers , the kitty / cat with malware , the robotic kitty / cat , wired~up cat bot , prn who is a catbot , the catbot companion , the cat who is cyber , the cat with an antenna

flags ﹔

robocatgender , glitchsilly , cybercattic , kittykaomojic , catdigital , cybercatgender , digicat

[inhuman-onhuman]

[*] Applicable to all nonhumans/alterhumans- otherkith, systems, voidpunk, etc.!

[**] Not when you found out about the terms. But when you first started to relate to things other than humans

My own experience (feel free to share your own in the comments/reblogs! id love to see it!):

Ever since I was young, I almost only consumed content about inhuman things. Robots, zombies, animals, nature… you name it. Warriors Cats, Transformers, My Little Pony, basically anything David Attenborough was in.

When I watched Pokemon as a kid; I didn’t want to be a trainer, I wanted to be a Pokemon. When I read about animals from the books in the library; I mimicked what they did, imagining myself as a cardinal flying through the trees or a serval stalking through the grasslands. A sundew curling around its prey, a werewolf’s painful transformation.

And well, I always had an active imagination. When I was in elementary school and preschool, you weren’t allowed to go back inside during recess if you were cold. So I just sorta taught myself how to perceive things differently! I could make my body warmer just by thinking of it. Then, later I could manifest the feeling of wings, animalistic legs, sharper teeth, horns… yeah.

This definitely led to where I am now. A both spiritual and psychological connection to who I am deep down. I am human, yes. But over a lifetime of being unable to relate to others led me to find kinship in unlikely places.

[hyuburt]

Lineup!!!

[ID: Two uncolored rough sketches of the homestuck girls lined up side by side, three on each image. The first one shows Aradia, Nepeta, and Kanaya side by side in order of blood color. Aradia is on the left and she is facing the viewer with one arm behind her back and the other raised with her hand splayed as though she is using her telekinesis. Her hair is long and curly, with two sections draping on either side of her face and over her chest. Her clothes are torn and visibly dirty. Her eyes have no pupils and her expression is calm and hollow. Next to her in the middle is Nepeta, who is energetically holding her clawed, gloved fists up next to her head in pride. She is considerably shorter than aradia, her long open jacket pooling on the floor behind her feet. The horns poking out of her hat gives the illusion of a cat face, and her two pointy bangs give the illusion of fangs. Her hair floofs out wildly around her face where it pokes out of her hat. Her expression is downright ecstatic, with a small button nose and freckles on her cheeks. To her right is Kanaya, who is notably taller than either of them. She is standing upright and still, with her hands clasped loosely below her stomach. She is wearing a shirt sleeved shirt over a long sleeved shirt, along with her signature long skirt that drapes around her slippered feet. She has a long straight nose and her expression is mild and neutral, though not unapproachable. The next image is a continuation of the homestuck girls lineup, continuing with Terezi, Vriska, and Feferi. Terezi is the shortest of the three and is drawn slightly chubby and with faint scars around her glasses, seemingly coming from her eyes. She is wearing a t-shirt, baggy jeans, and crocs with socks (though you can't see them.) She is grinning widely and holding her cane up in both hands across her body as though she is ready and eager to wack people with it. Next to her in the middle is Vriska, who is slightly taller and thinner, with a longer nose, and her expression makes her look like antagonistic, like she's laughing at someone meanly. Her robotic arm is adjusting her glasses while her other hand is on hip, and her stance is wide and confident. She is wearing her typical blazer, along with jeans that have rips and patches on them. The right lens of her glasses is augmented to make up for her missing eye. To the right of Vriska is Feferi, who is holding her trident behind her back and is leaning forward inquisitively. She appears excited and curious. Her long hair is wild and swept back from her forehead, where she has her heiress circlet. She is wearing a sleeveless shirt with several long necklaces, and an intricately shaped skirt that has two tails that drape behind her. She has on ankle bracelets and slippers. Freckles and moles are dotted all over her visible skin. End ID.]

[lexicals]

[ID: A five-panel comic drawn in a cartoony style with flat colours and thick textured lines. The first panel shows one of the lethal company crewmates (wearing a plague doctor mask) holding a toy robot in the foreground, asking "I think we have enough, right? Should we go?" Another crewmate in the background wearing cat ears and carrying a box replies "Yeah, sounds good" as they walk off-panel. In the second panel, a small sfx reads "SNAP" and the foreground crewmate turns to look at where the cat ears crewmate left the panel.

The third panel is a much wider spread and shows a view of the end of a room with a doorway, mostly in darkness. One crewmate is lying on the floor on the left hand side of the door, and the other is falling to the ground on the right, dropped by some kind of long-armed creature with its hand extended. The creature is mostly obscured, only its arms and a pair of glowing white eyes visible.

The last two panels show the masked crewmate again, looking back over their shoulder with cartoonishly large eyes, and then vanishing in a puff of crewmate-shaped smoke. End ID.]

-

I finally got to play new funny spaceman game

[saltycharacters]

[ID: A compilation of digital artworks featuring various ocs, most non-humanoid. The 1st image showcases a buff axolotl, red with a heart-shaped head and gills that resemble arrows penetrating her skull. She’s wearing overalls, is covered in miscellaneous tattoos, and has one arm smaller than the other. Next drawing is of a rabbit-esque robot with four floating rhomuses for a head, left leg patterned in checkers, vertically-placed eyes and a short sweater. Following this, the next artpiece showcases a fat humanoid sporting features of a sheep, including fluffy, fleece-like hair, little horns, and fluff sprinkled on her legs and arms. She’s wearing shorts and a sun-themed shirt, and slip-on shoes that somewhat resemble hooves. Next, a ram character with a toothy grin, wearing a long-sleeved dress and sporting a plant motif. Her four horns seem to be coiled vines, has leaves for ears, and a vine-like tail with berrys near its tip. Finally, the last drawing features all four of those ocs as their earlier designs, alongside two new characters including a water-bodied cat with fish, and a chameleon cat with a raincoat and hat. End ID]

Design adjustment for some ocs I drew a while back

[copperbadge]

Prowly and his friends are going trick-or-treating tonight, they want to know if your parents say you can come with and then after come back to Prowly's house to watch Hocus Pocus and trade candy.

[ID: Happy Halloween! Prowly the Halloween Owl makes his last October appearance with a group of friends in costume, including a skeleton, a robot, a bear, R2-D2, Bast, BB-8, Prowly's brother Owly, and their chaperones, the Plague Doctor and Cat-sune.]

[dsafstevenfanclub]

Pspspsp.. anyone wanna exchange headcanons about Steven and/or phoneguys as a whole? I'd love to hear y'all ramble about them!!

Click read more if you want to see mine >:]c

Steven unconsciously stims a lot as a nervous habit. Such stims include - but are not limited to - tapping his foot, fixing or grabbing his tie, adjusting his sleeves, checking the time a bit too frequently, twirling his handset cord, and so on.

Touch starved yet touch averse.

CORD TAIL!! Phoneguys have to recharge somehow. They're usually hidden from sight, though. Kids are too grabby.

I like the idea of phoneguys "purring" when happy/comfortable enough (caused by a faint vibration from their head's inner mechanisms, though it sounds more like a "vrr" than a "purr")

I feel like phoneguys in general have the ability to overheat and/or bluescreen like a computer would.. if they did bluescreen, they'd probably just play a dialtone until they're booted back up.

They probably have barcodes, serial ids and/or the Afton Robotics logo either tattooed, indented or painted on them.

Probably have a maintenance hatch or at least a slot to eat/drink, considering they can canonically smoke.

Scars have healed over more cleanly than Jack and Dave's due to being fixed up in the factory.

Involuntarily ringing as a response to certain emotions, such as being angry or flustered.

Rotary dial can twitch/spin to show expression to make up for the lack of a proper face.

I imagine that you could kiss/be kissed by the phone guys using their handsets. Handsets have two sides: a microphone (mouthpiece) and a speaker (receiver). If you think about it, wouldn't that kinda be like the machine equivalent of an ear and mouth? Kiss the speaker side and boom you got yourself a kissy. Alternatively, you could gently headbutt like cats do! :]

I think that's all of them.. other than that, and although it's not exactly a headcanon, I love when people put stickers and/or gold chains/pins on their Steven designs.. decorate that manager.. /vpos

-🍆

[ammonitetheartist]

ORIGINAL SPECIES TIIIMMMEEE-

These are Springskulkers! They’re kinda like Sentinels, but. cat. They can jump super high, they’re freakishly fast, and they have a cloaking ability that renders them invisible to the naked eye and a few other tracking measures.

Big thx to @lizard12323 for letting me bounce ideas off ya, and adding a good amount to em

[Image ID: Two drawings depicting Springskulkers, a fan species for Murder Drones. The first drawing is split in two, with the left section labeled ‘Assassin Springskulker’ and the right section labeled ‘Scout Springskulker’.

The left section contains a fullbody sketch of an Assassin, a catlike robot with three eyes on each side of its face, an aardwolf-like fur mohawk down its neck and back, and a segmented tail with a drill at the end, labeled ‘tail can be extended’. Below it is a bust sketch with the mouth wide open, labeled ‘flexible ligaments allow jaws to open wide’ and ‘retractable saber teeth for dealing deathblows; smaller inward-facing teeth for gripping/tearing through metal’.

The right section contains a fullbody sketch of a Scout, very similar to the Assassin but smaller and leaner, with longer ears and lacking the drill tail. It’s labeled ‘ear tufts for refined sensing capability’ and ‘tail tufts for extra agility’. Above it is a bust sketch with the mouth open, labeled ‘fangs (also retractable) inject potent neurotoxin’ and ‘valve in throat to shoot smoke’. Further above is a sketch of its collar, labeled ‘hatch that opens to shoot some sort of wire + prong to send electric shocks into any human who tries to grab the cat (there are two hatches and wires, one on each side)’.

The second drawing is labeled ‘Tank Springskulker’ and contains a fullbody sketch of a Tank, similar to the previous two but much larger in build, with a longer snout, shorter ears and tail, and a mane instead of a mohawk. It’s labeled ‘Spikes act as handlebars for a drone to hang onto’ and ‘Front claws provide traction while running’. To the right is a bust sketch with the mouth open, labeled ‘Larger fangs can deliver much larger dose of neurotoxin’. End ID]

[uzibrainrot]

YOU KNOW THAT ONE MEME WHERE SOMEONE LEAVES THEIR CAT AT THEIR PARENTS WHILE THEY GO ON VACATION AND WHEN THEY COME BACK THEIR PARENTS MADE LIKEA LITTLE PICTURE BOOK ON WHAT THE CAT DID AT THEIR HOUSE?? THAT BUT WITH KHAN AND SICK AS HELL TRASH BISCUIT ADORABLE DOORMAN

HFJERHTJKHRJKEHGJKHJKG ithink khan would make a little door for the cat then redesign all the doors to be cat doors like like this one

but for cats uzi thinks its lame since its her dad N finds it to be a good idea in the end the cat is too stupid to figure out how to open them and ends up scratching and leaving claw marks on the doors and khan is like nooo my beautifull doors (he doesnt care about the 1000 kilos of orange cat hair in his coat and literaly everywere else only the damaged doors)

then the cat is not allowed in khans house again (id like to think after a happy murder drones ending Uzi N and probably maybe an alive V move out, the reason there is a cat its 1 because cats are also inmortal or 2 because they made a robot cat)

[bonefall]

Could you tell us some about Cinderpelt? Has her tale changed at all?

Ok so like I'm sketching right now, and I had drawn Cinderpelt a while back but I sent myself on a like, perfectionist spiral and now I Can't Get Anything Done Until This Is Perfect

I really don't like my old Cinderpelt design, so much that I had not shared it (in fact there's an ask here from a few months ago I drew this for)

[ID: Cinderpelt, as a gray-and-cream cat with blue scars over one eye and her back leg]

I think the art is cute, but the design doesn't feel like Cinderpelt. Worse is that I really want to make sure she has some kind of trait in common with her three siblings... but I can't figure it out.

I even did a couple thumbnail doodles for Bracken and Thorn,

My thought process was, they are tabbies, but it's also a point in Better Bones that their grandmother is Speckletail! Speckletail and her bulldozer, you know? So I thought it would be a neat idea to have a sort of 'robot' or 'armor' vibe going on. Giving them spots AND stripes, as if they're rivets on a garter.

But then I was like, "Ok but who are their ancestors again?" And that's what set me off on the ThunderClan Family Tree Spiral.

So anyway yeah, I have a few asks here about the Frostfour, and the reason I have not gotten to any of them is because Brain.

[the1weepinqguitar]

A Bigass Post Explaining My Interpretation of the Here Comes Science Bunker.

I named my writing based off of this universe The Nanobots Are Taking Over, so expect that tag whenever I post abt this semi-fic.

First of all, It's a bunker. Created in 1982 by a group of scientists who feared that humans would render the surface world uninhabitable, it is a colossal maze of tunnels and rooms. By 2009, it houses about 350-400 scientists.

How these scientists got there:

Well, they were kidnapped. Brought to the bunker with nothing more than the clothes on their backs, most of the scientists in the bunker weren't born there. Some scientists were (some of the founders had kids), and they are raised as apprentice scientists to their more experienced colleagues. Most scientists were taken to the bunker because they showed true potential in their field.

Life in the bunker:

It's comfortable. Modest, but comfortable. Scientists pay no living/medical expenses as long as they do their share of research. In short, they just have to do their job. They each have their own small "bunk" unless they choose to share a room with another scientist. They are free to decorate their rooms as long as they, again, do their job well.

"Wings" as they're called, separate scientists by their roles in the bunker. For example, the assorted crew of engineers have their own wing, which contains their individual bunks.

Wrist tags:

These are how individual scientists are identified. It is a tattoo that they receive when they come to the lab (or if they're an apprentice, on their 18th birthday) that depicts their ID number and a dot of a random color. These dots used to be used for specific types of scientists, but, as there are so many, this practice fell out of use in the late-eighties. Colors are now randomly assigned.

Where do the Johns come into this picture?

Big Man (the last living founder, who earned his nickname for his booming voice and outlandish mannerisms) loved TMBG's music. He wanted so badly for them to survive the upcoming nuclear apocalypse that he decided in 2004 that he would bring them to the bunker, if only for the free entertainment. He knew he would get in trouble if he picked favorites, so he assigned Flansburgh to the medical sciences wing and Linnell to that of anthropology.

They weren't exactly pleased, as Linnell had to leave his family behind and Flans his wife and cats. They made do with what they got, though, and got to work. They lived there for a while until 2009, when Flans completed a prototype for the Nanobots, a type of robot that was designed to shrink down to the molecular level so that they could perform minimally invasive, delicate surgeries without worrying about harming the patient. He was almost finished working on the Nanobots when, one day, he left Linnell in charge of watching them while he ran some errands.

"Don't press any buttons."

"I won't."

But, as soon as Flans left the room, his friend made a beeline to the Wall of Gadgets, an off-limits collection of machinery that Flans had been working on for the last five years. Each one seemed equally captivating to Linnell, but one stuck out. Six buttons graced its surface, catching his attention and sending a wave of curiosity through him.

A single button sent the entire bunker into panic mode.

Flans came back to find Linnell duct-taped to the back of the door (totally not a Malcom In the Middle reference...) and the Nanobots gone. He managed to catch a glimpse of one of the clones as he climbed up into the vent on the wall. Upon being questioned, Linnell defended himself and stated that he didn't know any better.

A "BANG" behind them alerted them to the presence of a rejected clone. Green, named after his assigned color, was nearly strangled by Flans as the latter attempted to interrogate him. Linnell defended the clone and maintained that his knowledge on the other clones' secret plans would come in handy. However, Green knew nothing. He was only following orders from another one of the clones. Red, as he would be later named, would become the bane of Linnell's existence.

They searched through the bunker for weeks before finding Red and his companion Purple, the latter of which had been mutilated by his leader as part of his dream of creating the ultimate human weapon. Linnell and Green were understandably horrified at the shockingly sweet, innocent clone's condition and separated him from Red so that they could both be questioned individually.

A sinister plot was discovered by Linnell as he questioned Purple. Red wanted to seize control of the bunker through the Nanobots. He would insert one of the microscopic robots into the selected scientist's bloodstream, and once the blood reached the brain, he would direct the bot to the synapses, where he would, in turn, tell the brain what to do. It was a clever plan, Linnell reasoned, but a dangerous one. He decided to take Purple under his wing, the latter renaming himself Jay.

(man, this is getting long)

Red would get thrown in the bunker's "containment unit", a semi-jail for potentially dangerous scientists. He breaks himself out after only a few weeks in there and attempts to kill Jay for betraying him. Jay tranquilizes him with a tranq gun built into his prosthetic arm, knocking Red out instantly. Red gets thrown back in jail and the bunker is safe once more.

Until he broke out again. This time he shot Jay in the leg. Flans, now in charge of the bunker as Big Man had passed away just a few months prior, decided to give Red another chance and kept him locked up for the entire next year.

After being let out, he hunted down and killed a scientist (Foss, a scientist who had been dealing with a lycanthropy-like disease for the last couple of years), right in front of Jay, who had been keeping Foss safe in the library whenever he turned. Jay was heartbroken and called Linnell to retrieve Red. Red attempted to escape but was caught by the Johns and thrown back into his cell where he was put to death for his crimes. He felt no remorse for anything he had done.

The bunker was finally at peace and everyone settled back down. Foss' partner, Francis mourned his loss for a long time, befriending Jay in the process. Now that they were safe, Flans decided to continue working on the Nanobots, and they proved to be a great tool for safe surgery. Everything was at ease once more.

-Ivan

This took me two hours to write, so I hope it covers any questions you might have! I enjoyed the worldbuilding greatly and this was super fun to create! Recently, I've been writing about Jay and his exploration of the bunker. God damn it, I got a little attached...

[EDIT FEB. 11, 2024: I posted the first three chapters on my ao3! Feel free to check it out if you'd like!]

[richardsphere]

Leverage Log: The Girls Night Out Job

Ok, i get we're trying to seperate the boys from the girls so we can have 2 gender-locked episodes... But dont tell me that "have you ever seen a robot bleed out" would not get Parker hyped. She's verry much into violence and weirdness.

Assuming that this is a "both episodes happen on the same night", then Nate's comment about Bonanno showing up for their cardgame could be interesting. (I'd like the cast to actually interact with their designated Jim Gordon-type)

Parker still doesnt understand properly that "she's Alice", "we've been doing brunch" "and we're proud of you" "its not hard, there are forks" 10/10, no notes.

"you know that thing where you fix me?" Wow Parker, thats... bad, like self-image wise. You are not broken.

Peggy is catering a party at the venezealan consulate... God dammit, her date is a thief/conartist/other criminal isnt he. He's gonna either steal something or assasinate a politician. im sorry Peggy.

Hardison does a face-ID. Good news is simple: He's a burglar not a murderer! OMG Parkers cat-wants-to-hear-my-voice lie was fantastic. She's gotten so good at Grifting. (Sophie should be proud)

Sophie and Tara's debate around the right method of investigating a hotelroom is interupted by 2 goons, who imediatly have a disagreement on the right way to investigate a hotelroom.

And Peggy thinks Alice stole her date. (in her defence, she kind of did.)

I definitly think he instantly realised something was wrong when the door he knew was locked just "fell" open.

Lovely little moment as she goes back to meet with Peggy, when the thief reminds us that Parker is a person who, even back in Episode 1 of Season 1, was deserving of a "The" in front of the name.

OMG Mattingly is a suave-ass slipster. I was about to complain "why wouldnt you just make a copy of the data and sell it twice" but turns out he DID!

I like Himbo Arsene Lupin, he's nice.

Peggy with the frying pan. Imagine being an assassin hired by a government to bomb an entire gala full of various dignitaries, and somehow losing, not to Parker and Sophie, but to Parker's normal friend.

Hardison getting extremely frustrated at all the pictures of Parker's handsome date he's sent. only to be realise "oh thats a bomb". The simple solution: Dont be there when it goes off.

I like the idea that Himbothief is gonna take a page out of Team Leverage's book in the future. The idea that Team Leverage's influence is spreading through others is nice.

Sophie's horror at having been given an alias as boring and mundane as a "Marge".

Good episode. Now lets watch the other side of the story.

[cybernetic-organic]

though i dont consider myself robotkin, i still wanna meet fellow robots out there that are mostly non-humanoid looking :] this vessel feels a little left out in a community full of tv heads, cyborgs and androids [basically nonhuman lookin bots and programs and such out there plzplz int pspspsps]

anyways this is essentially a call into the abyss where i try to manifest the kins listed below to become this machines friend :]]]

therians

draconics

non-humanoid robotkins/machinekins

deitykin [unless u think ur an alr existing deity, srry were just rlly spiritual and it makes us uncomfortable]

angelkin

demonkin

fallen angelkin

OBJECTKINS AAAAAAA PSPSPSPSPS

anyways heres a list of my otherkin ids :]

domestic orange tabby cat therian

shire horse therian

wii console objectkin

unknown avian type [i have wings on my back tho]

waterkin !! [literally am just a large deep body of water]

[canidkid]

urmm i dont know if rqs are open or not, but do you think you could do reagan age regressor headcanons too...? i know its less obvious a headcanon than brett, but if youre willing to id be grateful 🙏

They're open!!

Tbh regressor Reagan makes so much sense I can't believe there isn't more for her >:[[ /lh

...

REGRESSOR REAGAN RIDLEY HEADCANONS!! 🖍️🧪🧃

with some CG Brett!

Pretty easily identifiable age range of 3-7

She never loses that desire to keep making and creating - so she has a lot of toys pertaining to that! Depending on where she's landed in her headspace, she'll tinker with Jr. Robotics kits, Legos, blocks or just simple science experiments.

Seriously can't be left unsupervised for long around anything that could be taken apart. Ballpoint pens, CD players, cardboard boxes. She wants to know how things work and she doesn't care if she'll be upset later because she's covered in lava lamp fluid and glitter!!!

Sensory avoidant. Reagan becomes more sensitive to outside stimuli in headspace, so failsafe plans need to be installed. Noise canceling headphones, sunglasses, change of clothes, etc. Especially certain kinds of physical touch are big no-nos. Unexpected hugs, for example.

Super specific about clothing. Tags out, seams non-offensive, the same thing in several colors, etc.

Regression is a way to get her childhood back! She tries to plan when, how, what she'll be doing and with who. All in an effort to keep the experience as positive as possible. 

Usually this does include Brett! He's a really fun CG - and easily adapts to Reagan's needs. She's able to put a lot of trust in him and knows he'd never abuse this. He's just a big safety blanket, which is exactly what this little kid needs sometimes. 

Museum trips!! So many museum trips!! They take a lot of planning in advance. Snack bag, the correct outfit, and headphones are a must! Public places can easily become too much for her when small - be it through sensory overload or anxiety over being a kid in public. 

When they do get everything just right..Reagan loves interactive exhibits. Pressing buttons, standing on platforms or picking things up to inspect are always a great time! 

Heavily relies on structure. It's not that she'll forget, it's that she wants to know what's next at all times. If there's no daily planner up somewhere, she'll get antsy until there is.

When by herself, Reagan tends to steer away from anything that might delve too much into her actual childhood. She prefers watching newer shows, playing with newer toys - or plain and simple  just turning the whole thing into nap time.

Comfort items!! She has them, she loves them. One of her favorites is a pocket-sized black cat plushie! It goes everywhere with her. Big or small, doesn't matter. The cat is safely tucked away somewhere nearby. 

I see both her and Brett as flips. So,, bunch of fun stuff ensues. They're either small together and engage in absolute chaos, or are able to take care of one another in kiddo mode!!

She's more of a timid type, especially around people she doesn't entirely trust. Largely nonverbal in public - as well as quite often in her circle. Brett is about the only person who knows the full scope of her regression.

I also potentially have more to say here so I'm absolutely open to taking more specific follow-up headcanons or moodboard requests!!!

[captainkranos]

Dreaming of Metal- Part One A story for those wishing they were robots

This is my first major foray into writing, so id love constructive criticism! This is part one, and it doesn't contain any smut, but I am planning for future parts to have it. Hope you enjoy!!!

It was a cold evening. February was always cold. The local coffee shop was closed, so you had to go a lot further than usual. It was the nearest one that wasn't a chain. Starbucks was definitely worse now after the Apple buyout, and you're gonna need quite a bit of coffee if you plan to finish the coding project tonight. "602nd and 28th..." You mutter under your breath. Just a few more freezing blocks. Neo York City was big. After the Monopolization of 2350, corporations started buying out whole cities. The extra 300 streets added seemed like a good idea to most, but it really just makes the good parts of the city further away from each other.

Power walking down the sidewalk in an attempt to stay warm, a pink, blinking, neon sign catches your eyes. "Order a Robotic Companion Today! Keep you company! Great at coding!" That last tagline stuck in your mind as you remember the 457 bugs last time you tried to compile the latest project. And your last romantic partner walked out on you last week after suggesting those cybernetic enhancements... How were you supposed to know a cyborg killed their grandma? You only suggested them because you weren’t brave enough to get them installed in yourself anyways. "Dial 1-800-ROBOT today!" The number was easy to remember at least. You look down the street again, and spot the coffee shop your personal navigator directed you to. You make a mental note of the phone number, and head off to get fuel for the long night ahead of you…

“ITS DONE!” You exclaim as the compiler notes zero bugs found. It's a tool to help organize blog posts for your favorite website. The site creators should have added this years ago, but you're glad to have it done now at least. You sit in silence, appreciating your handiwork… but it's a sad silence. Your old partner helped write the start of this, and now they'll never see it completed. Your thoughts flashback to that sign you saw today. A robotic companion sounds so nice. Someone to confide in, to understand you, who would understand how you feel about robots. In a bout of weakness, you pick up your holophone, and mash in the phone number that's been spinning in your head all day. 

“Q.P.R.A.U. Robotics! Where we match you with the moving metal of your dreams! How can we meet your emotional needs today?” The voice on the other end sounds synthesized, but not automated. “Uhhh Hi? I think I'm looking for a companion bot?” “Sure! How would you rate your emotional starvation from one to ten?” Even though it's only been a week, the rate at which your apartment deteriorated into disrepair would put a bull in a china shop to shame. “...Ten” “And would you like to sign up for our alternate payment services?” Oh thank goodness. You really didn’t want to shell out too much for this. Most companies use these alternate options as a way to obtain and sell your data. A body scan or a blood donation will usually make rent much easier to pay each month if you want to buy something nice. “Yes I would.” “Great! We will have your order shipped out to you within 3-6 weeks! Have a great day!” The call ends. You never gave them a name or a shipping address? Maybe they scraped it from your IP address? You really didn't care. As long as a friend gets shipped in the mail, you would put up with anything.

March. It's been a tough few weeks. The coding commissions have been few and far between. At least the apartment complex therapist is back on call. He has really been helping you get through the emotional weeds of life. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK You peel yourself up from the chair in your office and over to the door. It's probably the neighbors again, their cat is quite the escape artist. Opening the door, standing in the hallway is a synth, with a metal box the size of a large person. If they were not a robot, you would ask to help with it, but you know that their electronic muscles are at least 100 times stronger than yours. You wish you could lift that much… “Is this the residency of anon?” “Yeah… what's this?” “Your package! Courtesy of Q.P.R.A.U. Robotics!” You had forgotten everything about that night. Getting hammered off of French nano-wine tends to do that to you. “Do I need to sign anything?” “Nope! Heres your package!” The synth walked into your apartment and placed the box right in the center of the entryway. It came down with a rather hefty thud. You already knew the downstairs neighbors would be filing a complaint. “Have a nice day! And good luck with the alternative payment services!” The synth walks out with a jolly expression. They always seem happy, probably because they are made of metal… Glancing back at the metal box in your entryway snaps your thoughts back to reality. How the hell are you going to move this anywhere? Your eyes are drawn to a blinking red button on the side you hadn't noticed before. Hopefully it’s the “Open” button and not “Self-Destruct”. With all the confidence you can muster, you press the button and wait for something to happen. An agonizing silence follows, until distinct gear turning and motor wrrring noises begin to emanate from the box. Like a birthday present made of tinfoil, the metal begins to unwrap itself and pour an unknown smoke out into your apartment. Your first thoughts are of the fire dampening systems firing off, but knowing your landlord, they probably haven't worked for years.

The smoke clears, the metal lies in a pile at your feet, and a shiny silver figure stands before you. Its form is definitely feminine in origin, but the steel plates that make up the body are all that fill your mind. They have to be at least a foot taller than you, as you stare up into its blank but imposing expression. “Uhh… Hello?” A rather cute set of chimes ring out from a circular design in the machine’s chest as pink lights spread outward from the center out to the limbs. The last line of lights to reach its goal is the one moving towards the head, as the eyes fill with light and the body hums with the moving of cogs and belts It’s head slowly turns towards you and a smile creeps up its face as a mixture of fear and excitement fills your heart.

“Hello! I'm Daniella and I'll be your new mistress!”

[sephirthoughts]

ok i got that nasty one out of my system here’s the nice one

Vincent Got a Phone

[but to the tune of Janie's Got a Gun you're welcome]

WARNINGS: none yet but we’ll get there keep your pants on (for now)

INFO: CID/VINCENT, BBFs vincent & aerith it makes sense i swear, background sefikura, fluff, eventual smut, humor, no angst just idiot-related shenanigans

SYNOPSIS: Vincent had a crush, then he got a phone, which has started him down a road toward genuine human connection that he is in no way prepared for. Aerith, his self-appointed friend and wingman (who may not be nearly as sweet and innocent as one would think, based on the dresses and flowers), is determined to steer her favorite ship on the right course!

Chapter 1: The Friend-ship Sails!

BIGDICKDADDY: hello everyone. i bought a phone.

SolidStrife: sephiroth?

SolidStrife: typo oops

SolidStrife: i mean who the fuck is this

.*･｡ﾟ☆Ti-chan☆｡ﾟ･*. : yeah how did you get our group chat ID creep! >:C

BIGDICKDADDY: this is vincent valentine.

SolidStrife: ...

SolidStrife: quick question

BIGDICKDADDY: cid chose this name for me. i don’t know how to change it.

TheChief: hahaha it’s a real good one why would you change it

✿FlowerGal✿: i thought Dick was short for Richard? shouldn’t it be Big Vince Daddy?

.*･｡ﾟ☆Ti-chan☆｡ﾟ･*. : oh honey

✿FlowerGal✿: or Big Vic Daddy? that works too.

SolidStrife: but the daddy part is ok with you

YiffYuff: i think it’s a funny name lol

SolidStrife: you would

YiffYuff: wtf what is that supposed to mean

SolidStrife: it means i know what your username means

YiffYuff: ????

VValentine: nevermind. cait sith showed me how to do it.

TheChief: aw boo y’all are no fun

TheChief: damn robot cats these days

✿FlowerGal✿: I’m really glad you got a phone, Mr. Valentine! Now we can all talk to you and you won’t miss anything! :-D

[VValentine has left the chat]

.*･｡ﾟ☆Ti-chan☆｡ﾟ･*. : wow rude

SolidStrife: he lasted longer than i expected

YiffYuff: what does my username mean!!

YiffYuff: what the hell are you talking about!!!

YiffYuff: CLOUD!!!!

SolidStrife: why don’t you ask cait sith

Vincent had a phone, now. That was…good. A phone was a thing one used to communicate with other people. It was a step toward humanity. Toward the light. Out of the abyss.

Only, he found himself reflexively wanting to retreat back to the safety of his coffin. After all, was taking such a step even allowed, for him? Was this not just collecting another sin with which to freight his soul and trouble his sleep?

But…when sin felt so much like sunshine on your skin, when it was blue and brilliant gold, so vivid you could almost taste the colors—when sin was a wisp of that heartbreaking warmth, so desperately craved during those long, cold, solitary years in the dark…how was one meant to choose atonement?

He would never try to touch the sky, he reasoned. He would only slip out of the shadows and stand in the sunlight for a little while, to quietly absorb some of its warmth, before he sank back into the eternal darkness. Even such a creature as himself yearned for some small comfort, after all.

A soft voice broke in, drawing him from his ruminations. “Um. Mr. Valentine? Are you coming to dinner?”

It was the lighter haired girl. Aerith Gainsborough. And she looked like she was cautiously approaching a rabid dog.

Vincent suppressed a sigh and withdrew deeper into his cloak, in order to appear less threatening. He couldn’t tell from her expression whether or not it was working. But all he had to do was politely decline, and she would go away.

“No, thank—”

“Hey, Vinnie! Vin!” Cid called out, just then, from ten meters behind her, where the rest of them were gathering. “We’re goin’ to eat, you comin’?”

“Yes, thank you,” Vincent said to the girl, as he pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning on, and strode away toward the group.

Aerith paused for a moment, with an unreadable look on her face, before she trotted after him.

“Did you not like your food, Cloud?” Tifa was asking, as the party exited the restaurant, a couple of hours later.

“Huh? Food?” Cloud said distractedly. “Oh. It was fine.”

“Do you even know what you ate?” Yuffie retorted. “You were staring at your phone the entire time.”

“I wasn’t staring at my—” Cloud pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times. “I gotta go. I’ll be back…later.”

“Where are you going? Cloud!” Tifa shouted after him, as he hurried away down the street. Annoyed with the young man’s wayward behavior, she naturally turned to her friend, for support. “Can you believe how rude he’s being? What is going on with him?”

Aerith was looking the other direction, however, apparently engrossed in something else. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Totally. What a jerk.”

“You weren’t even listening!” Tifa said, stamping her foot. “Why is everyone acting like this tonight?”

“You mean, why’s no one paying attention to the princess?” Yuffie smirked.

Tifa scowled. “Shut it, brat. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Yuffie rolled her eyes. “Don’t you know frowning gives you wrinkles?”

“Oh, ho ho! Did you guys see that?!” Aerith exclaimed, startling them both.

“See what?” they replied, nearly in unison.

“Mr. Valentine just yawned, and exactly ten seconds later, Mr. Highwind said he was tired and wanted to head back!” She gave a delighted little giggle and then squealed, clutching her phone to her chest, like a teddy bear.

Yuffie and Tifa looked at each other, then back at her, with expressions one might adopt when addressing a mental patient.

“Mr. Valentine yawns all the time, Aeri-chan,” Tifa pointed out.

“Yeah, what’s so interesting about old men being tired?” Yuffie scoffed. “They both fell asleep in the theater, the other night, and you weren’t wetting your pants about that.”

Tifa made a face. “You want to rethink that phrasing, maybe?”

“Hehehe it’s nothing, nothing at all. You wouldn’t understand,” Aerith gloated, while rapidly typing something on her phone. She hit what must have been the ‘send’ button, with an air of triumph, then finally looked up. “Hey…where did Cloud go?”

Over the next several days, Vincent began to get a feeling that he was being watched. He had this feeling because he was definitely being watched. By the Gainsborough girl, of all people. She seemed to have taken an unusual interest in his activities, and had been surreptitiously observing him, at random intervals throughout each day.

He was aware of it pretty much immediately, due to his high level of training and artificially heightened senses, and also the fact that she was really bad at spying. Like, he literally saw her ducking behind a trash can, once. Whoever among their enemies had got to her, they obviously hadn’t given her much in the way of instruction, before they sent her to work. Maybe it was a blackmail job.

Either way, if she was under hostile influence, she was now a threat to the group, and it was his duty to get to the bottom of it. It’d be better not to alert the others, yet, in case anyone else was compromised, so he’d be going this one alone. Besides, it wasn’t as if he needed help handling one little teenaged girl.

That night, after supper, he took a walk around the general area of the group’s rooms, making sure he was clearly seen, then faded into the shadows, to lie in wait for the spy. Three minutes and seventeen seconds later, he heard stealthy footsteps coming down the walk.

Tch. Amateur. She didn’t disguise her gait, control her breathing, or even try to mask her scent. When she passed the dark space between the buildings, she was playing with her phone, pretending to be looking at it, but glancing stealthily about, obviously looking for her target.

In less time than it takes for a human heart to beat once, a whirl of crimson whipped out of the narrow alley, silently engulfed the young woman, and vanished. Behind the building, in the deep shadows, Aerith suddenly found herself pinned against a brick wall, with the big triple-barrel of Cerberus pressed to her throat.

“Scream and it will be the last sound you make in this life,” Vincent said, in a low, menacing snarl (which was just his usual voice but slightly quieter). “Who are you working for?”

“Mr. Valentine?” Aerith replied, in a normal, conversational tone, looking at his face, rather than the gun, for which he had to inwardly applaud her cool-headedness under duress. “What are you doing lurking around in the alley?”

The hammer clicked back. “A name, Ms. Gainsborough. Or I paint this wall with your—”

“Oh, please, you’re not going to kill me,” she laughed (Actually laughed! At him!!). “If you were, you’d have cut my throat or strangled me right away, instead of trying to scare me with your very loud gun, with all our friends right within hearing distance.”

He wrapped his other hand around her neck and holstered the weapon. “You’re right. There are plenty of ways to kill you quietly. Answer the question. Who are you working for? How did they get to you? Are they blackmailing you? Holding someone hostage? If so, why did you not come to us for help, rather than betray us?”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” She eyed him doubtfully. “Are you…feeling ok, Mr. Valentine?”

“I am never feeling ok. That is beside the point. You have been following me and spying on me, for five days. You appear to be recording my movements and reporting them to someone. I also saw you take several photographs of me and Cid Highwind, when you believed yourself to be unobserved.”

Her eyes went wide. “Eh? You saw tha—I mean, I have no idea what you mean! You have no right to interrogate me! I want a lawyer!”

“A lawyer? I am not with the police, Ms. Gainsborough. In case you forgot…I’m a monster.” As he said this, he leaned closer, baring his sharp canine teeth, and letting his irises flash brilliant crimson-gold, in the darkness of the alleyway.

“Ooh, that was so cool!” Aerith breathed. “Wow, you’re really sexy, Mr. Valentine.”

Vincent choked and actually took a step back, letting go of her neck, from sheer astonishment. “What are you—that’s not—how can a nice young lady like yourself use such a word, so casually!”

“What, sexy? You really have been living in a coffin, haven’t you. Times have changed. Nice young ladies like me can say and think and do whatever we want. That includes thinking you’re sexy and telling you so. Not that I’m into you! Even if I swung that way, you’re like a million years too old for me, yuck.”

When she said that last bit, she laughed and stuck her tongue out, with a little shudder of disgust, to which Vincent took great umbrage. He was old, sure, but he didn’t look old. He looked pretty good, he thought. Anyway, he definitely wasn’t worthy of a shudder.

Also, how did this tiny girl flip the situation around on him, so fast! Saying all these bizarre things and confusing him! On top of that, she wasn’t even a little bit scared of him! That hurt his pride even more than the shudder, and he became morose.

“As I was saying, you’ve got the situation all wrong,” Aerith informed him, flipping her braid over her shoulder. “I mean, yeah…maybe I was spying on you a little. But that was for my own reasons. No one got to me and I’m not betraying anyone. I’m actually your ally, here. Maybe the only one you have.”

Vincent was hiding in his collar, with his arms crossed sullenly, glowering down at her from the shadow of his black bangs. “What nonsense are you talking? What do you mean, ally?”

“Let’s just say, I represent a certain community, of very devoted, extremely supportive enthusiasts, who take a special interest in…gentlemen such as yourself.”

This was definitely some kind of trick, to trip him up, but he couldn’t see the hook yet. Better play along, for now. “Such as myself, in what way?”

“Gentlemen who, you know,” she winked suggestively, which nearly sent him stumbling back another step, “prefer the company of other gentlemen.”

“I prefer no one’s company,” he growled. “Try again.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Not even…Mr. Highwind’s?”

What the hellfire? What did she know?? Would he have to kill her, after all?!

“I can tell by the look on your…forehead, that you know what I’m talking about,” the infuriating and deeply bewildering young woman continued. “It’s also clear from my observations, that no one else knows. And that, if it’s left up to you, he never will. That is where your dearly devoted fujoshi sisters come in.”

This was obviously an attempt to baffle him with more gibberish. Vincent’s hand was already on Cerberus’ stock again. “You’re stalling. So, you have backup coming. You think they can kill me, before I kill you?”

“Seriously, tone down the drama, Mr. Valentine. I’m trying to tell you I want to help you. Look, I’ll show you.” She pulled her phone out and held it up so he could look at the screen. “This is our server. These are all sisters—that’s what we call our members. Each channel is devoted to a different ship, but we encourage multi-shipping and no ship hate is allowed, whatsoever.”

“Channel? Ship? You like…nautical engineering?” Vincent attempted, utterly at a loss.

“Ship is short for relationship. The Fujo-Friends server is dedicated to fanship of the MLM variety.”

He blinked stupidly at the screen, as she scrolled through what she called a channel. It looked like a group chat, sort of like the one their party used on the phone, but it was made up of far more participants.

They all had little cartoon avatars, and inexplicable names, like ‘Mrs. Genesis’ and ‘disco slut kadaj’ and ‘sefikurafan’ and ‘rudeXlovesXreno’, and even a ‘Sephiroth’s Daddy’ which he did not like, at all. Messages were popping up, constantly, and they seemed to be talking about…

Vincent’s head spun, and he had to lean on the wall, to catch his breath. He had literally never seen so many euphemisms for that crucial part of the male anatomy, in his life. He didn't even know most of them, before.

How…how could all of those people talk so openly about these things? How could they all care enough about total strangers, to say so many weird and perverse (and also a lot of very sweet and supportive) things, about them? How could they know so much more about that kind of thing than he did?!

He passed a hand over his brow. “You, and all these other women…you talk about men, having…sexual relationships, with other men? Why?”

“Oh, it’s not just women,” Aerith chirped. “We welcome sisters of all genders. Why do we do it? For a ton of reasons. Mostly because it’s fun, but honestly, a lot of us are just sick of the heteronormative status-quo getting pushed on us in every form of media, and want to imagine more people in happy, queer relationships. I mean, there are toxic ships, too, but those are strictly for the sake of hotness. We don’t condone any abusive or unhealthy relationships, IRL.”

Vincent shook his head helplessly. “I—I don’t know what any of those words mean.”

“It’s ok, that’s why I offered to help you. You don’t seem to know what you’re doing in that area. Like, at all.”

“What I’m doing in which area?”

“Well…you like Mr. Highwind, right?”

“If you already know, why do you keep asking,” Vincent returned crossly.

“Good! The first step is talking about your crush to a trusted friend,” Aerith encouraged.

“Who said you were a trusted—”

“As for the other steps, a socially challenged but otherwise high-spec man, like you, is just the kind of person who could benefit from the sisters’ help! Don’t worry, I won’t put you on the server, or anything. Unless you want me to.” Vincent’s glare intensified. “Ok, I’ll take that as a no. What I can do for you, is act as your relationship consultant. With the input of the sisters, of course. The Fujo-Friends will help you make a plan to get your man!”

Vincent nodded. “I’m leaving. Goodnight.”

“No, no, wait!” Aerith said, stepping hastily in front of him. “Just hear me out, ok? I know this all probably seems ridiculous to you, but…I can’t stand seeing you so sad, Mr. Valentine. You’re a good person, and you’ve survived through so much. You deserve happiness. You deserve love. And I deserve to see you and Mr. Highwind together.”

“A good person.” His lip curled in a sneer, which was totally lost on Aerith, as it did so behind his collar. “What could possibly have lead you to believe that about me? Do good people live in coffins in the basements of disused bioengineering facilities?”

“They do if they’re trying to protect other people from something. I know your story. What happened to you. And I know all you’ve done is help people, since you went underground. You’re even helping us, now. So…let me help you, a little. Consider it a thank you, for being on the team.”

Vincent withdrew gloomily into his cloak again (like a turtle retracting into its shell, which was far more adorable than he realized or he’d never do it again), and said nothing. But he didn’t say no. The moment he failed to say no, he handed Aerith the reins.

“Great! So excited to get started!” She clapped her hands delightedly and bounced up and down, like a child. “I'll message you tomorrow morning, with the details!”

Vincent sighed heavily. “Alright.”

He was still in a daze, musing on how he’d even gotten into this mess, when he found himself back in his room. It was…something of a relief, to be honest. He had no idea how to ask for help and wouldn’t have accepted it, if it was offered.

But if it was urgently pressed upon him, what choice did he have? He couldn’t hurt Ms. Gainsborough’s feelings, after she’d been so kind as to reach out to him. Aside from Cid, she was the first one in the group to speak directly to him, excluding strictly necessary communication.

Also, he had a sneaking suspicion that this small girl could be scarier than Sephiroth, if she took a mind to, and he had no desire to find out if he was correct.

link to it on my ao3 just in case you want to leave me a nice comment. or a mean one fuck it bring it on