#computer hacking

[eccedeus]

Hack-Tic issue 16/17 (1992)

Cover and first article of double issue 16/17 in the Dutch hacking zine Hack-Tic. The cover shows the magazine's titular name and descriptive subtitle, "Magazine for Techno-Anarchists". Underneath, an illustration most likely of the fictional band The Blues Brothers holding a TV or computer screen and a keyboard, surrounded by police pointing guns at them. In the bottom right is Hack-Tic's bearded mascot, who appears on every cover, here wearing a hat with a peace symbol on it. The first article is titled "Hacking The Pentagon ?", regarding a group of Dutch hackers who broke into American military systems.

Illustrated by Koen Hottentot (1992)

Source

[virtualpilotlight]

Today at work on lunch on the work computer

[sergeant-macho-nacho]

The FBI will be like yes we were conducting surveillance on the subject because the subject believed they were being surveilled also we were surveiling them before that to

[lesley-la-latina-libra]

DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO SEE THE NAMES OF PEOPLE FROM A PAST CANVAS ENROLLMENT (the “people” tab disappeared im so desperate pls) or better yet somebody teach me how to override a link so i can get access to it or something cmon help a girl out (i can’t remember a cute guys name)

[youtwitinmyface]

HACKTIVIST #4

Created by: Alyssa Milano Writers: Jackson Lanzing & Collin Kelly Artist: Marcus To Publisher: Archaia Black Label Previously: Hacktivist #3 Yes, I know I’m quite late on this issue. I actually thought I had reviewed this. But as I thinking about getting ready to watch and review Mistresses tonight, which stars Alyssa Milano, it made me think of this series that she created, so I looked it up and…

[metalchocobo21]

My oc's in their natural habitats

Tetsuo working in his laptop on some Super Robot base Digimon he's making for ToyAgumon.

Chouko falling asleep from studying.

Kasumi and Masao arguing about stupid shit.

Subaru is just gaming on her switch.

Asuka cuddling Kiboto outside the room/pic.

Naoto running late due to some personal things.

Oh, and some effing Monochromon looking through the window to remind the viewers that these characters are in fact Digimon OC's.

[master-gatherer]

I should have made a fallout bingo card for the show

[just-a-joey]

My two favourite AIs that hate eachother

[scipunk]

Hackers (1995)

[superglitterstranger]

Everything You Need To Know About How To Remove Your School Account From A Chromebook

@xdadevelopers-blog

#xdadevelopers

[jacky93sims]

Bedroom Set Bench, Laptop, Tiger Table and Heart Pedestal - for The Sims 2

These are 4to2 conversions from Mechtasims, Clutter Cat and Hydrangea, low poly. The laptot is functional and there is also a Monique Hacked version (choose only one).

DOWNLOAD HERE

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

If you want to support my creations, you can send me a donation with Paypal or Ko-fi ☕ If you want to ask for a Paid Commission, HERE you can find more details. Thank you ❤️

[lazylittledragon]

life is so so hard but there's pyjamas and phone in bed at the end of the day and i think that's beautiful

[eightiesfan]

[superbat-lmao]

In college, Harvey and Harley would poke fun at being Bruce’s first friends. He’d been so closed off with all those rich kids that it took him until college to really find his people.

But that’s not entirely true.

Bruce would say he had a lot of friends actually, just that none of them stuck around for very long. Meeting each of them was completely accidental. And strange. It has taken him a while to figure out what was happening, but once he got one of them to admit to it, the rest caved pretty quick.

You see, Bruce’s friends were time travelers.

They had crazy suits, some skin tight, others padded like a SWAT team, and all of them made of stuff Bruce had never seen before. They could also do insane tricks they were willing to teach Bruce, like backflips and knife throwing when he was old enough. They promised to teach him more each time they came back through time.

They wouldn’t give him their names, but they all had nicknames for each other and that worked well enough. Didn’t want to blow up the time-space continuum.

He met “Wing” first. He’d felt moronic calling someone that looked like an adult something that wasn’t a real name, but by the time Jay, Red, and Robin turned up, he caught on to the bird theme. The girls didn’t stick with the bird thing and neither did Tom, although the knew that was a fake name, especially because Robin would often try and call him Thomas, so he assumed it was close.

So yes actually, Bruce had friends before he met Harley and Harvey. He was just waiting for the day he would meet them in his time.

[yandereunsolved]

tim the eldritch creature fucker because everyone thinks he's trying to woo a being beyond their comprehension that is actually real world darling and he does it over reblogging their shitty headcanons or liking their art or kudos on their fanfics meanwhile everyone thinks he's doing some satanic shit to interact with darling although he just uses a too powerful laptop no doubt. damian has been less snappy after jason commented tim could sacrifice them to his eldritch so

Thinking of the Batfam wondering if he needs to be exorcized. Tim is just in the corner with his giant ass computer giggling and kicking his feet.

He is commenting on every. single. one. of darling's posts. He is liking them all. He will reblog them all. He'll even make multiple accounts just so he is able to do it all over again.

He has a fan account dedicated solely to his darling.

He will lose his mind if you write about him or draw fanart of him. He may just pass out. He'll scream into a pillow and then run around the manor to try to calm himself.

Bruce is totally not contemplating putting Tim in therapy so Tim stops calling you his 'special interest monster'.

Tim wants to hit it so bad. It's almost pathetic.

Tim and his eldritch s/o (that doesn't know they are his s/o) are an undefeatable duo. 💪

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCXDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 5)

—

Tw: torture scene (GiW agent receiving), general angst, canon-typical violence (DC), nobody is having a good time

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was pretty easy for Danny to forget that Dr. Crane was a rogue at times.

Most of the time he wasn’t comically evil, like what he’d expect of a Gotham rogue. He was helping Danny, even if only because he didn’t want to be taken in by the GiW as well. He was even downright nice most of the time, or at least neutral.

Sure, he had a strange obsession with fear and psychology, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Danny. It didn’t feel like living with a rogue, just like…staying with a distant relative, or something.

He seemed like just an ordinary person.

Today, though, Danny was brought back to reality.

The GiW agent they’d tracked down together writhed on the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Scarecrow was sat a few feet away, setting up a syringe of the antidote he’d made.

After a few more moments, he injected the man with the antidote, watching him like a hawk the entire time.

Suddenly, the man surged forward, lunging at Scarecrow with a feral scream.

Unluckily for him, though, he was still weak from the fear toxin in his system, and from the beatings he’d received prior. Scarecrow easily wrestled him to the ground, settling himself on the broad part of the agent’s back with a vice grip on one of his arms.

“Let’s try again,” he said sharply, all of the warmth Danny had grown used to gone from his voice. “Where is the GiW base of operations?”

The agent took several shuddering breaths before spitting at Scarecrow, defiance and hatred written all over his face.

For just a moment, the room was utterly silent.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Scarecrow began to twist the man’s arm further. It wasn’t long before the agent began to squirm, then writhe, beneath him. Danny’s stomach churned.

“You know,” Scarecrow began, almost conversationally, “there are plenty of jobs that one can get without the use of their legs, especially with the level of education you have. Anything that doesn’t involve hard labor, really.”

The man’s face was beginning to turn red in his struggle not to scream. He took in gasping breaths, the way that his mouth moved almost reminding Danny of a goldfish.

(He felt awful for the comparison, but it was true.)

“However,” Scarecrow continued, “I find you’d be rather hard-pressed to find a job without the use of your arms. Especially in a place like Gotham, where you can always be replaced by someone eager to do your job for even less money. Of course, you could most likely coast off of savings and severance pay for a while, but…”

He leaned closer to the man’s head, his voice lowering.

“Would you be able to live like that? To live with yourself, if you no longer have a purpose?”

He allowed the agent a few seconds of rest before increasing the pressure on his arm. The agent gasped, letting out a strangled hiss. His arm bones were making fascinating noises in response to the strain. Danny felt sick.

“You seem like a rather driven young man. I’m sure your family would hate to see you unmotivated, directionless. Would they resent you, do you think?”

“Fuck you, you—”

The man was cut off by his own scream as Scarecrow finally allowed his arm to break, audibly splintering into thousands of useless shards of bone.

He had the exact pressure memorized. Clearly, he had done this before.

This was wrong. This was wrong.

Shouldn’t Danny step in, do something?

“That won’t heal cleanly. Even with the best medical care in the world, you’ll end up with permanent damage.”

The man below him wheezed and sobbed, choking on air as Scarecrow let go of his arm carelessly, letting it flop back onto the ground.

“Just the sort of thing something like you deserves,” Scarecrow hissed, his voice cold.

“You tortured a child, and you enjoyed it. You laughed with your friends about it. In your notes, one of your friends complained about the screaming,” Scarecrow brought his leg around, grinding his boot into the man’s broken arm. He howled in agony, writhing uncontrollably.

“Was it inconvenient to him, do you think? Too loud? If you were joking about it, clearly you thought so, too. I could fix that as well.”

He drew out another needle, this one once again filled with fear toxin.

“Scarecrow, wait,” Danny choked out.

Scarecrow turned to look at him.

Even his posture was different than usual. He looked… stiff, more like an animal than a man. When he tilted his head at Danny in a silent question, it looked like something in his neck had snapped, his head lolling to the side.

Danny wondered if he was consciously moving like that, or if it was habit at this point.

“You—we don’t have to do this. We can get information some other way, right? You don’t have to…”

Danny looked down at the GiW agent below Scarecrow. He didn’t even have it in him to glare up at Danny like he had before. Instead he laid limply on the ground, tremors rolling through his body uncontrollably.

“We’ve exhausted every other option and you know it,” Scarecrow said, his voice low, “this is the only way we can move forward.”

“Still, I—I don’t,” Danny swallowed, his throat tight, “this isn’t—this isn’t right. Isn’t there some other way to do this? Like—a truth serum, or something?”

“Truth serums are notoriously unreliable. They’re almost as bad as lie detectors. We’re much more likely to get a reliable result from this.”

Danny just stared at the GiW agent and his splintered, ruined arm. He began to weakly wriggle in Scarecrow’s grasp, which was graciously ignored.

He vaguely remembered himself doing the same thing when he was on the operating table; even if he knew there was no chance of escape, he still thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away. The jagged I-shaped incision on his torso felt uncomfortably warm.

What was there left to say?

“The Bat does the same thing at times, you know,” Scarecrow said, “him and the rest of his brood. By using my toxin, I’m actually lessening the amount of permanent damage that I’m doing. Physically.”

“Still, that doesn’t make it right,” Danny said desperately. “Even if—even if everyone in the world did this, it wouldn’t make it right.”

Scarecrow hummed.

They were both silent for a moment.

His next words were gentle, absurdly so when compared to the scene in front of him.

“I would love an alternative. But…”

He shrugged, hand coming to rest on the break in the GiW agent’s arm. Even without applying any pressure, the man stopped squirming immediately.

“There aren’t any other options,” Danny repeated, his voice flat and his body numb.

“Yes,” Scarecrow said. “I’m sorry.”

There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. Eventually Scarecrow spoke again, his voice strangely empty.

“You can stand outside and keep watch, if you’d like. At such a short distance their radars won’t pick us up.”

Danny said nothing, leaving the room silently.

He sat outside for quite a while.

He was grateful that Scarecrow had, with his help, dragged the agent to one of his previous hideouts. It was soundproofed, after all.

He was glad that he didn’t have to hear the rest of what Scarecrow did to the man.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crane left the building, joining him outside. He guided Danny back to his beat up old truck and they drove home in silence.

“Did you at least…do you know where they are, now?” Danny asked as they entered the apartment, his voice small.

“They didn’t share the details of all of their locations with any one person. I know where one of their locations are, but not their main base of operations.”

Danny felt disgusted. With himself, with Dr. Crane, with the GiW.

He was disgusted by the agent, too. Did he just hate the restless dead so much that he would prefer to be tortured than to give them the upper hand? Did he really think he was in the right?

Was there a chance that he was?

Danny felt very, very small, and very stupid. Stupid and weak and cowardly.

“Danny,” Dr. Crane spoke, his voice soft.

“I’m truly sorry that this is happening to you. I really, truly wish that you didn’t have to endure my company. I…”

He fell quiet. Danny wondered if he was just saying this to pacify him, or if he truly meant it. He wondered if it really mattered in the end.

After a few moments of silence, Dr. Crane sighed, looking truly pained.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Danny was quiet.

“I’m going to bed early,” he finally said, turning away and leaving without a second glance.

—