#the nanite project

[theaxolotlkween]

lol au where Rex and Noah were friends during the Nanite Project.

[ghostisredacted]

the "absolutely tech illiterate" and the "human anatomy nerd" in me are fighting tooth and nail (with eachother and the issue at paw) trying to figure out How SAYER could feel its human body get itchy in episode 75

[whispering-radiance]

This is going to be a genuine question because I don’t recall seeing the information anywhere.

Does anybody know how long did the original Nanite project take?

[uhohproblems]

need van kleiss and rylander to get their acts together and put their hair up. the loose hair isn't very hash tag lab safe of you boys

[kalpeavaris]

Fallen Angel AU - Cyn's Disassembly Drone Design

Theme

Finally got around to clean up the sketch & give her proper coloring >:]] I felt like the blue as main color fit her way better than yellow or pink (which was my first choice, but felt too bold).

Some more context, story parts & design notes below the cut!

The mark on her chest (both the glowing cross and the marking she has in place of the Disassembly Drone one) shows where the USB patch was injected into her (or better said, Cynessas) chest.

Was exorcised by the USB patch (which was preserved and not destroyed as Nori kept it by her side the entire time, not allowing N to give it to "Uzi" in the cathedral) - it was stabbed directly into her chest and core, which caused the AS to retreat and become dormant, allowing Cyn's OS to overtake and her becoming aware again.

Her body is entirely re-made, the only thing that is from her old body is her core & OS.

The blue cross is like a light projection and has no mass - it cannot be touched, removed nor does it react to any outside sources outside of Cyn's own OS (it disappears when she's offline/sleeps).

Like it's said on the sheet, the nanites in her vial aren't acid but rather a healing fluid - they can either be injected into a Drone's body or dripped onto a wound to aid in the healing progress. It doesn't matter if the Drone they're applied to has regenerative powers or not, they work on anyone!

She remembers her time as Cynessa and having Tessa's skin grafted to her old Drone body, which is a very surpressed memory she tries to forget about as much as possible.

Appears very sweet & timid on the outside, but can just be as much of a menance as you'd suspect her to be. Goes feral when she's confronted with things she likes or when you hit the 'sweet spot', lol.

Spent some time shut down after being exorcised in the finale, which created memory issues with the events her exorcism she can't really recount. It's for the best, though.

Dormant Solver User, has regenerative powers and organic insides/blood, but cannot (and doesn't want to) use the Solver abilities other Users such as e.g Uzi have.

No one really knows why she has the light halo - it just appeared and similar to the cross disappears when Cyn sleeps or goes offline.

Has wings, but isn't a confident flyer. She gets lessons from N and Uzi though! Her wings are similar in shape to SD-D's and SD-Y's wings with membrane shaped like feathered wings instead of having the bladed feathers.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Doctor Who, but Chronologically: 54

One year later! We move from 2005 to 2006, but accidentally - Eccleston and Rose are back, but they only intended to be gone 12 hours. Instead, it's been 12 months. This means Rose has been missing for a year, with a nationwide manhunt searching for her and poor Mickey her presumed murderer - we find out almost like a horror reveal, as Rose breezily announces she's home, and Jackie embraces her like she's seen a ghost, and over her shoulder Rose sees stacks and stacks of Missing Person posters with her own face.

And I'll be honest! I do not rate Camille Coduri as an actor. I do not think she's really up to the emotional weight of "frantic mother finally reunited with her missing daughter." But nonetheless, she absolutely nails one of those scenes; after the initial tears, and then the initial anger, during all of which Rose can only say that she's been "travelling", they have a more muted, poignant moment in the kitchen.

"What kills me, Rose," she says, tearfully, "is that you still can't say where you were. What happened to you? What could be so bad that you still won't tell me? Where were you, sweetheart?"

It's SO SO good. SO good.

And of course! Rose cannot say. She and the Doctor retreat to the roof.

"I can't tell her I've been to the year Five Billion," says Rose, giving us a treat to look forward to presumably at the end of this project. "I can't do this to her again."

"She's not coming with us," the Doctor says.

(They have great Best Mate vibes by now. Clearly, a lot has happened for them since last episode! Which, of course, we've seen a bit - they fought ghosts in Victorian London.)

And then an alien spaceship crashes into Big Ben.

This kicks off the plot! While Rose is apologising to everyone she knows at Jackie's Aliens Have Landed Watch Party, the Doctor gives her a key to the TARDIS and then goes to check out the possible First Contact. It has been taken to Albion Hospital, which is the hospital from the Empty Child! Hooray! We know this one. It turns out to be a sort-of cute pig whose brain has been hardwired to make it walk a bit like a human. It's dead, but then it wakes up (probably them nanites again) and tries to run away before it gets shot by an army man - the Doctor is furious at this, because it was clearly just scared. Poor pig. Meanwhile, in Tredegar House Downing Street a bunch of politicians assemble because no one can find the Prime Minister, and into this steps Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. She is played to perfection by Penelope Wilton (FUN FACT back in the 80s she was approached to play the Lady in Silver Nemesis), and amongst the alien landings she really wants to get her proposed bill for cottage hospitals read, and can't understand why no one wants to make time for it.

"I know I'm hardly one of the babes," she says at one point, which I think confirms that the Prime Minister is Dead Tony Blair. At another, she manages to talk to the new Acting PM, and starts describing her mother's care home.

"BY THE SAINTS, WOMAN, HAVE SOME PERSPECTIVE" he bellows.

She ends up hiding in a cupboard in hopes of adding her bill, but this means she actually views what's really going on - the politicians are secretly the real aliens! Uh oh! They are killing important people and then wearing their skin suits. Gross. A quirk of this that has aged quite badly is that this means all Secret Aliens have to be fat, because they have bigger skins, so we're unfortunately left to be suspicious of fat people. I think they perhaps should have thought through those implications a little more, especially given that another indicator for the audience is excessive farting.

Anyway, the Doctor returns to Rose, but therefore materialises the TARDIS in front of Mickey and Jackie. Mickey already knew this. Jackie, by contrast, reacts as well as you'd expect and calls an alien hotline to report him. This gets us a super fun segment where the words "the Doctor" and "TARDIS" flag up on the government system (and yet this did not work for Rose's google session last ep smdh), triggering a red alert; many people with guns come and whisk the Doctor and Rose away to Tredegar House Downing Street.

"But why?" Rose asks in their limo.

"Over the years I've made a name for myself," explains the Doctor, "and now, who's the greatest expert on alien life?"

"Patrick Moore?"

"OTHER THAN HIM."

God they're fun.

But, on arrival, only the Doctor is allowed into the war room. Harriet Jones manages to grab Rose, and spills her traumatic afternoon. Meanwhile, the Doctor realises the plot!

"The pig's not a diversion," he says. "It's a trap."

It's a GREAT line. And he's right - if every expert on aliens is in one room, they can all be taken out in one go. This takes us to the final cliffhanger: the Doctor and other experts are being electrocuted by their ID cards as two aliens gloat over them, Harriet and Rose and a staffer find Tony Blair dead in a cupboard and then get menaced by an alien, and a policemen in Jackie's flat starts menacing her in her kitchen.

At this point, I must talk about the aliens.

Reader I was unimpressed by these fuckers back in 2005 when I watched it the first time, and they have of course not aged very amazingly, unfortunately. They are called the Slitheen and they have deeply stupid hands. Each finger has a non-retractable claw about a foot long. There is simply no way they would be capable of the advanced technology we're told they are. It's like if humans tried to do brain surgery using only these bad boys:

Also. I don't judge them for this - RTD was still working out tone, and was throwing things at the wall to see what would stick, and it is a children's show when all's said and done. But the constant "teehee farting" concept Is Not For Me, Bestie.

HOWEVER I applaud the physical costumes and puppet work ANYWAY

Someone graffiti'd the words Bad Wolf on the TARDIS... I wonder what that means?

QUESTIONS:

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (Suspects: River, Missy, Me, Clara)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest. The Thijarian planet was destroyed by some sort of impact). Is this the Flux?

The TARDIS is sort of melting because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again. NOPE, back to not working.

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole

(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? He used to be blue, and could apparently go back to it??? He’s some sort of helplessly criminal con-artist??? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window? (She’s with the Silents, but we don’t know why Amy saw her)

Why is Amy’s pregnancy inconclusive? (Maybe because the baby had Time Lord DNA?) She’s deffo pregnant and the baby becomes River, but why inconclusive?

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

What happened with the Other Cyber War? Were either of these Cyber wars affected by the Doctor blowing them up with Nemesis?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri (Not anymore, somehow)

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War? Did this destroy the Doctor’s planet and/or family? Did this destroy the Auton world?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf? Gwyneth saw “the Big Bad Wolf” in Rose’s mind, and it was on a 1987 poster as graffiti. NEW INFO: It was graffiti on the TARDIS!

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Is Rory plastic or not? Yeah, must be, he couldn’t possibly remember being plastic otherwise

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras? A psychic midwife says she’s just normal human

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven? Is this because she’s now dead?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch? Is it actually just a pager?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?

How did the Doctor forget Clara?

Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather? This is presumably the star-eyed water faerie

How did Nardole die?

When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?

Whittaker is falling to her death rn

Was that ring relevant?

Does anyone know the Doctor’s name? Missy says it’s “Who”

When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?

When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?

What’s happening with the bees?

What happened with Donna’s ex and a giant spider?

What war wiped out the Daleks, and is it one of the ones already mentioned?

What did the Doctor mean when he said “The (Daleks) always live, while I lose everything?”

If Dalek Caan is the last Dalek left why are there more now?

How did the rest of the Time Lords die?

How and why did Amy melt?

What’s the question that will make silence fall?

Why do the Silents… want silence to fall?

How and why are Silents at war with the Doctor when he… hasn’t even heard of them?

How does Hitler get out of the cupboard?

What’s the significance of fish fingers and custard?

Why does the Doctor feel guilt about Rose, Martha and Donna?

What happened with the space whale?

How does the Doctor survive River? He doesn’t, apparently

How does he erase himself from history

Did Captain Jack lose his memories to the same people as the Doctor? What did he lose?

When did the Doctor send the Daleks into a void to save the universe?

Why do Amy and Rory think the Doctor is dead? Is it because of River as an astronaut?

Is Matt Smith’s Doctor a tree racist?

Why is the beautiful geode woman stealing people into a Passenger form?

River says she’ll die one day when the Doctor doesn’t remember her, let’s hope she doesn’t mean it

Why doesn’t the TARDIS like Clara?

When was the Master Prime Minister?

How do Amy and Rory rejoin the Doctor given that they haven’t died yet in 1950s Manhattan?

Looking forward patiently to the year Five Billion :)

[srue-on-fire]

Your Toes Touch Mine

Pairing: Tony Stark x Bucky Barnes Words: 1780 Rating: General Audiences Prompt: #19. "Why are you cuddling me?" - "You were cold." Title: Prateek Kuhad's cold/mess prompt list 🩶 read on ao3

❄️.���️‍🩹

Tony didn’t mean to skip dinner.

It wasn’t intentional —at least, not entirely. He just got caught up in the new repulsor calibration, and then he got an idea for a modular nanite upgrade, and then there was a minor incident with DUM-E knocking over an entire tray of micro capacitors… and, well.

Things happened.

By the time Bucky showed up, Tony was elbow-deep in circuit boards, running on coffee and pure stubbornness.

The door slid open with a soft whoosh, and Tony barely looked up before calling, “Unless you’ve got an offering of caffeine, state your business quickly and go away.”

There was no response, but footsteps crossed the room anyway —steady, deliberate, like whoever it was had no intention of listening to him.

Tony glanced up, already prepped with some snark, only to find Bucky Barnes standing there, a plate balanced in his metal hand.

Tony blinked.

“Uh.”

Bucky gave him an unimpressed look and set the plate down on the nearest workbench. “You missed dinner.”

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it again, gaze flicking between Bucky and the food.

“Well,” he said after a beat, “that’s terribly presumptuous of you.”

Bucky just raised an eyebrow.

Tony huffed. “What, you’re the meals police now?”

Bucky leaned against the workbench, clearly settling in. “Eat.”

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes very dramatically, but grabbed the plate anyway. “I am supposed to be the boss here.”

Bucky didn’t rise to the bait, just smirked a little, “You’re welcome.”

Tony muttered something under his breath about pushy super-soldiers but took a bite. He had been hungry, apparently —his body made that abundantly clear the second he actually started eating.

Bucky didn’t leave.

Which, okay, fine, Tony was getting used to it at this point. He might as well add Bucky to the list of people who hover in the workshop. Pepper did it. Rhodey did it. Happy, JARVIS, hell —even Steve sometimes. 

“You stickin’ around for a reason, or is this part of your master plan to keep me under surveillance?” Tony asked, gesturing at him with his fork.

Bucky shrugged. “Figured I’d hang back for a bit.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

Bucky tilted his head, like he wasn’t sure why Tony was questioning it at all. “Why not?”

Well. That was… suspiciously reasonable.

Tony chewed, considering. Bucky didn’t look like he had some ulterior motive. He just looked— relaxed. Comfortable, even, as he leaned against the workbench, gaze flicking over the half done projects lying on the top. 

Huh. 

Tony decided to let it go.

“Fine. But if you’re gonna lurk, make yourself useful.”

“What,” Bucky smirked. “You want me to solder something for you?”

“God, no,” Tony shoved the plate aside and wiped his hands off. “You can, however, go make sure DUM-E hasn’t found another way to commit robot-assisted manslaughter.”

Bucky glanced toward the far side of the workshop, where the robot in question was idly spinning one of Tony’s wrenches like a toddler with a new toy.

“Seems harmless to me.”

“Yeah, until he decides to fling that thing at my head.”

Bucky snorted but obligingly pushed off the workbench and wandered over. DUM-E beeped at him excitedly, waving the wrench like a puppy showing off a stolen shoe. He took the wrench from its claws and replaced it with a stress ball, eyes smiling when DUM-E twirled happily. 

Tony went back to his work, dragging his focus away from the very not cute interaction with great difficulty. He occasionally glanced up to watch as Bucky inspected various pieces of tech with mild curiosity, ran his fingers over some unfinished gauntlets, and even let DUM-E nudge at his metal arm like the two of them were becoming fast friends.

Weirdly, it wasn’t bad having him here.

Tony worked better alone—always had—but Bucky’s presence wasn’t intrusive. He wasn’t trying to force conversation or help in the way people sometimes did when they hovered. He was just… there.

It was oddly nice.

After a while, Bucky tapped a knuckle against the unfinished gauntlet on the workbench. “So, what’s this one do? More firepower?”

Tony didn’t even look up. “Not everything has to be a bigger boom, Snowflake,” he tightened a screw inside the casing. “This is a modular nanite upgrade for quick-repair capabilities. Basically, if something gets busted mid-battle, the suit can patch itself up on the fly.”

Bucky whistled low. “Self-healing armor?”

“Eh, more like self-preserving. It won’t grow back missing pieces, but it’ll redistribute nanites to cover weak points,” Tony glanced at him. “Try to keep up.”

Bucky smirked. “So you’re programming it to prioritize damage control. Do the nanites reinforce structural integrity first, or are they more reactive to surface-level threats?”

Tony paused mid-adjustment, and looked up at Bucky, a little surprised and a lot chuffed. “Oh, wow, someone’s been educating themselves.”

Bucky shrugged, biting back a pleased smile, and nodded toward the circuit board Tony was working on. “So what’s stopping the nanites from overcompensating and turning your suit into an overgrown metal cocoon?”

Tony grinned, obviously excited. “Excellent question, Sergeant Barnes. And the answer is— nanite clustering thresholds. Basically, I wrote an algorithm that prevents them from going full metal blob horror on me. The suit can only deploy repairs up to a certain density before it starts reallocating nanites elsewhere.”

Bucky hummed, tapping a finger on the surface, “So it’s like a controlled tide. Push and pull.”

Tony pointed at him with his screwdriver, “Exactly. Finally, someone in this tower who speaks fluent genius.”

DUM-E beeped excitedly and waved the wrench it got hold of, again.

Tony sighed. “Not you, dummy. You still haven’t figured out lefty-loosey, righty-tighty.”

DUM-E let out an indignant whir.

Bucky smirked. “Y’know, for a guy who claims to be the smartest in the room, you built a robot that doesn’t know how to screw in a bolt.”

Tony threw up his hands. “He has personality!”

DUM-E flailed the wrench again, almost knocking over a tray of screws.

Bucky smirked. “Yeah. Real charming.”

Before Tony could defend his teenage choices, JARVIS’ voice cut through their banter.

“Sir, the Mumbai R&D team is awaiting your presence for the briefing.”

“Wait, what?” Tony snapped his head back to the table, pulling up a hologram.

“You haven’t reviewed the reports I summarized, yet, Sir,” JARVIS said, flashing a new window of the reports. “Despite my reminders.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve still got a couple of minutes, right?” Tony huffed, diving back into work. 

He didn’t notice Bucky grabbing the empty plate behind him and leaving the workshop quietly, with a small wave to DUM-E. And hours later, he trudged up to his room exhausted and sleepy, drifting off in a matter of seconds after his head hit the pillow. 

“Wha—?”

Tony’s voice was muffled against the pillow, rough with sleep and confusion. He blinked blearily at the dark room, struggling to process the warm weight pressed up against his back. His brain, which usually ran at a million miles per hour, was slow to catch up, sluggish under the weight of deep sleep and… oh.

That was definitely an arm around his waist. A heavy arm. Metal one, to be exact.

His body jolted as realization set in, and he twisted slightly, peering over his shoulder. The dim glow of the arc reactor on the nightstand illuminated the barest outline of a face, sharp jaw and soft lips, dark hair spilling over the pillow.

Bucky Barnes.

Cuddling him.

Tony’s first instinct should have been alarm. Should have been “what the hell is happening right now?”, followed by a sharp command to JARVIS.

But there was no alarm. No automated defense systems kicking in.

“Why are you cuddling me?” His voice came out rough, thick with sleep.

Bucky made a noise, somewhere between a huff and a sigh, before mumbling, "You were cold."

Tony blinked. He let his head drop back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Cold. Sure. That made sense.

Wait. Wait. What?

"That’s a terrible excuse," Tony muttered, even as he registered the undeniable warmth seeping from Bucky’s body into his own. He had been cold, he realized distantly. Now he wasn’t.

"S’not an excuse," Bucky murmured, his voice low and rough with sleep. "You were shivering."

Tony frowned. Had he been? He didn’t remember. He’d gone to sleep alone, obviously, and at some point, Bucky had crawled into bed with him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Notably, JARVIS hadn’t raised any alarms when Bucky entered his room.

Tony wasn’t sure what to do with that realization.

"And your solution was to—" Tony paused, then gestured vaguely between them.

"Yeah," Bucky said simply.

Tony turned his head again, staring at him in the dim light. Bucky was watching him, eyes still half-lidded from sleep, but clear enough that Tony knew he wasn’t messing with him.

God, he was unfairly handsome. Even half-asleep and bed-rumpled, Bucky Barnes looked like he belonged on a damn magazine cover.

“You know, most people would just toss me an extra blanket,” he sighed.

“You don’t like extra blankets.”

That was… true. Tony hated them. They made him feel trapped.

Still.

“You could’ve woken me up,” he mumbled, grasping at the last threads of his skepticism.

Bucky huffed softly, like the idea was ridiculous. “You looked exhausted.”

Tony fell silent. 

He wasn’t sure when they’d reached this… thing between them. Where Bucky could slip into his bed and JARVIS didn’t even question it. Where Tony woke up warm instead of shivering, and it didn’t set off alarm bells in his brain.

Tony let his head drop back onto the pillow.

“If you’re gonna be my personal space heater,” he muttered, “you might as well commit to the role.”

Tony let out a breath and turned his face back toward the pillow, his heart hammering annoyingly fast. For a second, there was only silence. And then, Bucky shifted again, this time properly settling against him, his arm more secure around Tony’s waist.

This was… not the worst thing in the world.

Actually, it was kind of nice.

Really nice.

He let out a slow breath, and let his body relax back into Bucky’s. He should probably be questioning this. Should probably be wondering why Bucky came to his room in the first place. But the warmth was seeping into his bones now, the steady rhythm of Bucky’s breathing already coaxing his body back to sleep. 

If this was a thing now, he wasn’t going to complain.

❄️.❤️‍🩹

A/N: i hadn't meant for this to be this long. but i had so much fun writing it. mostly the research part lol. took me a whole day. thanks for the ask, anon!

[askagamedev]

What is your current opinion on Unreal Engine 5? Between Digital Foundry, content creators, and people on social media, everyone appears to be constantly attacking UE5 for performance issues (stuttering, frame rate, etc.). Is this criticism warranted, or is it more a case of developers still getting used to UE5 and its complexities (meaning it will likely improve in time)?

Everything improves with time as the engineers learn the details and optimize their work. This is true of every tech platform ever and won't be any more different with Unreal Engine 5 than it has been with UE4, 3, or anything else. That said... after having very recently worked with UE5 for enough time to get used to some of its foibles and having looked into some core engineering issues in a project utilizing some of the new tech introduced in UE5 (and the caveats and side effects of using that tech), I can say with fair confidence that (some) complaints about the performance issues are definitely warranted. These aren't global to all UE5 projects, but they are major performance issues we ran into and had to solve.

One major issue we ran into was with Nanite. Nanite is the new tech that allows incredibly detailed high poly models, a sort of [LOD system] on steroids. The Entity Component System of the Unreal Engine (every actor is a bag of individual components) allows developers to glom nanite meshes onto just about anything and everything including characters, making it very powerful and quick to stand up various different visuals. However, this also requires significant time spent optimizing that geometry for lighting and for use in game - interpenetrating bits and pieces that don't necessarily need to calculate lighting or normals or shadows unnecessarily add to the performance cost must be purged from those nanite models. Nanite looks great, but has issues that need to be ironed out and the documentation on those issues isn't fully formed because they're still being discovered (and Epic is still working on fixing them). We had major performance issues on any characters we built using nanite, which meant that our long-term goal for performance was actually to de-nanite our characters completely.

Another major issue I ran into was with the new UE5 World Partition system. World Partition is essentially their replacement for their old World Composition system, it's a means of handling level streaming for large contiguous world spaces. In any large open world, you're going to have to have individual tiles that get streamed in as the player approaches them - there's no reason to fit the entire visible world into memory at any given time with all the bells and whistles when the player can only see a small part of it. The World Partition system is supposed to stream in the necessary bits piecemeal and allow for seamless play. Unfortunately, there are a lot of issues with it that are just not documented and/or not fixed yet. I personally ran into issues with navmesh generation (the map layer used for AI pathfinding) using the World Partition that I had to ask Epic about, and their engineers responded with "Thanks for finding this bug. We'll fix it eventually, likely not in the next patch."

Most of these issues will eventually get ironed out, documented, and/or fixed as they come to light. That's pretty normal for any major piece of technology - things improve and mature as more people use it and the dev team has the time and bandwidth to fix bugs, document things better, and add quality of life features. Because this tech is still fairly new, all of the expected bleeding edge problems are showing up. You're seeing those results - the games that are forced to use the new less-tested systems are uncovering the issues (performance, bugs, missing functionality, etc.) as they go. Epic is making fixes and improvements, but us third-party game devs must still ship our games and this kind of issue is par for the course.

[Join us on Discord] and/or [Support us on Patreon]

Got a burning question you want answered?

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on Twitter

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on BlueSky

Long questions: Ask a Game Dev on Tumblr

Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FOUR: WAY DOWN WE GO

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ You make some major moves, risky major moves. “Yeah, I know. You’re not that easy.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and grasp his, lifting them off your hips. “Just like I know you’re trying to put a tracker on me.” You wretch the little device from his hands and crush it. “I’m not that easy either.”You pat his cheek. His expression doesn’t give anything away, but you know he’s annoyed his plans have been thwarted. “It was a good try though. You did your best.” You send a web to a nearby building, knowing that his eyes are scanning you to drink up every piece of information he can. You turn to him one last time before swinging away. “I’m just better.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: (attempted) bullying, you get a sword held at your neck (wonder whose fault that is), cursing wc: 6.5k

The next school day goes by in a blur of lectures you don’t pay attention to. The only thing on your mind is patrol and the looming task of getting back home.

Lunch is a brief respite from the busyness of the day. You sit alone to better hear your thoughts. You’ve long gotten used to your super hearing, but it’s still as loud as ever. The lunch is pretty good today, yet no match for your increased metabolism. You’re just grateful that your suit protects you from a lot. Super healing isn’t that useful when you’ve got no energy to heal with.

Your pencil moves in repeated strokes, steady. You’ve been putting your sketchbook to good use.

You hear footsteps approaching, and raise your head casually. You can’t help but widen your eyes when you see Damian walking to you.

He puts his tray down and sits, perfect posture and all. His eyes scan your drawings. “What is it?”

You blink, looking down at your drawings too. “It’s a… personal project.” You give your best winning smile. “I like to make things.”

You subtly turn the page so the one with all the formulas and equations is hidden away, only allowing Damian to see the sketches of what your new and improved nanite chamber would look like. “You’re hurting my feelings. What can I do to gain your trust?” It’s no subtle attempt to direct his attention from your drawings.

“Unnecessary. Forget about yesterday, it is in the past,” Damian says. Yeah, right. It’s obvious he’s playing nice in an attempt to lower your guard, but whatever. You can play along.

You pat his shoulder, smiling at his grimace. “You’re really bad at making friends. Don’t worry about it, first impressions aren’t everything.”

You lean back, crossing your arms. “So, now that we’re friends, tell me about yourself.”

“We are not friends.”

“We’re not enemies either.”

“That does not equate to us being friends,” he growls.

“But don’t you wanna know about me?” You lean in close. “Y’know, ‘cause you’re–” Your voice drops into a whisper. “Robin?”

He shoves you away, somehow in a gentlemanly manner. “Do not joke about that.”

You cackle. “I will tell you something about me in exchange for something about you.” At his glare you say, “it’s the fair thing to do.”

“I’ll go first.” You sit up straight. “I work part-time at Carrie’s Cafe, I live in East End and I occasionally dabble in photography.” Where you work and live is something he no doubt knows already, and photography is a useless fact. Still, he can’t admit that.

You gesture at him. “Your turn.”

You’re pleasantly surprised when he speaks. “I enjoy spending time with animals. I have various pets.”

“What kind of pets?”

“The rules of our deal do not require me to elaborate further.”

You roll your eyes. “The rules of conversation do.”

“I hardly want to converse with you.” God, you forgot how much of a brat Damian is. It’s easier to find it funny when you’re not the subject of his brat-ness. He can tell you’re getting a bit irked, if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

You survey your surroundings. People are looking at the two of you. You figure you must be a sight. The elusive heir of Bruce Wayne and the new kid. There’s a group of girls staring at you spitefully.

“Aren’t we a pair,” you speak to Damian, not taking your eyes off the girls. “Me, awesome mysterious super hot new kid, and you.” You don’t gas up Damian, but you figure he’s better off without a bigger ego.

Damian looks to where you're staring, his lips turning in thinly veiled disgust. “We are not a pair.” The girls giggle behind their hands and flutter their eyelashes at him. He looks away. You gasp as you are hit with an idea.

“I just had the best idea ever.” Pointedly ignoring his hum of doubt, you continue, “we are in the perfect set-up for a fake-dating situation. You, the popular bad boy who wants nothing to do with girls, and me, the one person who will never fall in love with you. We agree to fake-date to get the girls off your back, but we end up falling in love and we kiss in the rain–” you pause, staring at his face. It’s full of disgust, and you burst out laughing. “I’m afraid you’re too easy, my friend.”

Your hearing picks up on stomping from across the cafeteria. The leader of the girl's little posse is making her way over to you. She’s real pretty, you’ll give her that. She’s forgone the vest of her uniform to show off her slightly unbuttoned top. You’re not ashamed to admit you are looking hard .

“Damian!” She squeals, rounding up to your table. She ignores the seats and sits on the table itself. “Are they bothering you? I can see that you’re uncomfortable.”

You lean back and cross your arms, waiting to see what Damian will do. You would’ve thought he would be more of a recluse, liked by nobody. Perhaps this older Damian has more charm than the ones you’ve read about. Or maybe only the girls of the school like him.

Damian sends you a look that says do not leave me to the vultures.

You raise your eyebrows as if to say not friends, remember? This has nothing to do with me.

“Victoria,” Damian greets. Victoria’s face lights up in satisfaction at the fact he knows her name. Oof, girl, have some standards. “I am fine. You need not concern yourself.”

“Oh, but I can see it on your face, Damian. You don’t have to save face for someone like them ,” Victoria looks you up and down. There’s no doubt she means to isolate you because you’re not a rich heir like the rest of them.

Damian’s about to speak up (in your defense? You doubt it) when you lean forward, discreetly pulling down your own collar. “Victoria, was it? Can I call you Vicky? Where’d you get your nails done?”

Victoria brings her hands to her chest, rubbing her fingers over her nails. “Oh– um. My… cousin. My cousin does nails as a hobby.” Her eyes are flickering from your face to your chest. You reach forward and grab her hand delicately, humming as you look at her nails. “These look really good. How much were they?”

Your eyes are boring into hers as you await her answer. Her mouth is slightly agape. Her hand twitches in your grasp as you let a breath fall onto it. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before she finds herself. “It-It surely costs more than you can afford.” She yanks her hand back and it falls to her side. She looks at Damian before looking back at you, and turns around and walks off without another word.

A grin graces your face, satisfied with your results. Looking at Damian, you raise your brow in question. “Well? How’d I do?”

Damian is staring at you, like he is truly seeing you for the first time. He blinks and shakes himself out of whatever revelry he’s in (you hope you haven’t given too much away…) and answers you. “It’s no easy feat repelling Victoria. I commend you.”

“Is that a compliment? Oh my God, have I thawed your frozen heart, Elsa?” The bell rings and he walks away before you can say more.

You find out Victoria's in your ballet class. You feel her eyes on you the whole period.

You practice figure drawing in art. You ignore Damian’s stare on you the whole period.

It’s a cool night in Gotham. You’ve defended some homeless people being harassed, helped someone's cat out of a tree (you didn’t know that could actually happen) and helped an old lady home safely. It’s a pretty quiet night for Gotham, all things considered. The city moves on in spite of you, a maze of crime and corruption, but also of people worth saving.

You can’t help yourself and snap a couple of photos, for your eyes only. Anything that’ll make you feel like back home is good in your books.

watching behind you

You stand, straightening your shoulders. You’re sure the Bats know about your existence. Whoever it is, you’ll give them a scare first.

You lift your foot, letting it dangle off the ledge of the building. Their footsteps hasten to get to you. Gravity pulls you down. They’re running to you now. You spread your arms and fall.

A figure clad in black and red grasps the ledge, looking over, grappling hook in hand. They’re met with you, casually standing on the side of the building, defying gravity. “Looking for me?”

Robin makes room for you as you climb back up, crouching on the ledge once more. You stick out your hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of you guys. Big fan.”

Robin takes out his sword and holds it to your neck in one swift movement. “Tough crowd,” you mutter, clicking your tongue.

“Who are you and what business do you have in Gotham.” Straight to the point as always, Damian.

“My name is Spinnerette, nice to meet you!” You grab his hand before he can tug it out of your reach, shaking it. “And I thought it was pretty obvious, no? I’m in the saving people business, like you guys! That’s my business.”

“Children should not run around pretending to fight crime because they think it’s cool.”\

You huff. “Okay, one , the first robin was like, five. Two , how old do you think I am? Three , dude, I’ve been doing this for years.”

He tuts. “Is that right? How come I’ve never heard of you?”

You shrug. “I’m not from around here.” You’re not lying, that’s for sure.

The sword doesn’t move from your neck, and you sigh. Grabbing the sword makes an audible clink as it meets the metal of your suit. You slowly move it away from your neck, taking note of how Robin tries to meet your strength head-on, and failing to do so. Languidly moving, you invade his personal space. You throw your arms over his shoulders, making him sway side to side with you.

“You’re hurting my feelings, Rob,” you hum. You see his eyes squint through his mask. Dragging a claw down his cheek, you’re aware that you are completely indulging yourself right now. You should’ve swung away as soon as your senses alerted you to his presence.

Pretender, your brain whispers to you.

You will the thought away. “You know, some species of spiders eat birds,” you flirt.

“You have abhorrent ideas of flirting.”

“Cut me some slack, I’m rusty.”

“Some species also eat their mates,” he flirts back. Oh?

You grin, feral and hidden. “Ohoh, considering yourself my mate already, birdie?” His hands grasp your hips, pulling you closer. Chest to chest with him, you lean in, whispering “you like the idea of me eating you? Perv.”

“You jump to conclusions.” His cheek is against yours.

“Yeah, I know. You’re not that easy.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and grasp his, lifting them off your hips. “Just like I know you’re trying to put a tracker on me.” You wretch the little device from his hands and crush it. “I’m not that easy either.”

You pat his cheek. His expression doesn’t give anything away, but you know he’s annoyed his plans have been thwarted. “It was a good try though. You did your best.”

You send a web to a nearby building, knowing that his eyes are scanning you to drink up every piece of information he can. You turn to him one last time before swinging away.

“I’m just better.”

“They call themselves Spinnerette,” is what Damian says as he enters the Batcave.

Bruce only sighs. He really shouldn’t be so surprised Damian went after the new meta. He turns around in his chair, facing Damian. He makes a ‘go on’ gesture.

“Their suit is made of some kind of metal. It is high-grade, something I’m not familiar with. The eyes of their suit react, like they mimic their expression. They can stick to walls and webs come out from a device on their wrist. They are intelligent and were able to divert my intentions to put a tracker on them,” Damian huffs.

He moves to stand next to his father. “They say they have been acting as a vigilante for years. They are also not native to Gotham.”

Bruce nods, “that narrows it down a little.”

“They were insulted by my insinuation that they were a child, so I assume they are at least in high school.”

Bruce types all the information in the Batcomputer, fingers flying across the keyboard. The results narrow down. Several databases appear on screen.

“If they are your age they could very well attend the Academy,” Bruce hums, hand over his mouth in thought.

“I have someone in mind already, but I will be sure to evaluate all my peers.”

Bruce smiles. “I’m surprised to hear you call them your peers.”

Damian’s lips twitch, walking out of the cave without further word.

You’ve decided to put plans for the nanite chamber on hold for now in exchange for a far, more efficient use of your time. The battery will last you, you’re just being paranoid.

You’re going to pull a Tony Stark and create a new element.

Technically you’re just going to use the blueprints Tony put in your suit (thank you tony, we all say in unison) and follow them, but in this universe badassium isn’t a thing. 

A clean and powerful energy source, to power your way back home and for the world to use. You know what they say about leaving things better than when you found it.

You’ve changed your plans for one main reason; when Tony Stark made his new element, he also made a particle accelerator. 

It starts in your engineering class. You swipe as much material as you can, stuffing it into your backpack. Tony’s makeshift build took up his whole lab, and the one you found that landed you here was huge, so you’ll grab as much as you can.

Next is finding a place to work. Your apartment is a no-go, so you spend time off patrol to look for places. An abandoned warehouse could work in theory, but how many times has a villain used one for their operations? You’ll go without bumping into the Joker, thank you.

The problem is that you don’t know this city, so you make an impulsive decision. During classes, you spend time building a mini robot that will infiltrate and access the Batcomputer. You know Wayne Manor is equipped with state-of-the-art security, from reinforced structures to advanced alarm systems. It is very likely your little buddy will not make it out, but Karen only needs enough time to upload to the computer.

You spend your programming class calibrating Karen into W.E.B.B.E.R. (Karen comes up with the acronym, it stands for Wireless Enabled Bionic Bot for Exploration and Reconnaissance) instead of doing the assignment. You can easily do it later. If Damian notices how in your mind you’ve been lately, he doesn’t say anything. WEBBER is finished in three days. Now it’s up to you to get it past Wayne Manor's defenses and into the batcave.

You sit pondering on a rooftop during patrol. Damian is a hesitant option. You’re are certain he’ll notice if you stick a little spider robot on him. Red Hood probably doesn’t visit very often, for obvious reasons. You might be able to sneak it past Nightwing, but there aren't many places on that skin-tight suit for WEB to hide. Orphan is a hard no, nothing gets past Cassandra Cain. You groan into your hands. WEB’s little feet pat your mask.

“Perhaps it would be easier to infiltrate myself,” Karen suggests.

“There’s no way to get into the cave without authorized access, and that's if  WEB isn’t somehow destroyed as soon as it hits the property’s soil,” you sigh. “You could override its systems to get inside, but that’ll just put everyone on high alert.”

“Then perhaps we approach their civilian identities.” Karen pulls up security footage of a cafe that none other than Tim Drake likes to frequent. It’ll be risky, since Drake’s got a damn good keen eye. However, you’ll bank on the fact that that guy does not get as much sleep as he should, thus making him less aware.

“Thanks, K.” You hardly sleep that night.

You spend the weekend lingering at the mentioned cafe. After some hard thought, you’ve forgone a disguise. He’ll notice if you’re trying to hide your features, so you just have to hope and pray that you become another blurred face he sees.

“He’s walking your way, [Name].”

You take a deep breath as WEBBER crawls onto your shoulder. He’s wearing layers, so WEB will have an easier time staying hidden. The robot is light, you made sure. You walk towards him, keeping your gaze forward. If this doesn’t work, you’ll figure something out. You just… really hope it doesn’t come down to that.

As you get closer, you side-step out of his way and allow your shoulder to pass his, not touching, but almost. WEBBER hops onto him and scuttles into his breast pocket.

“I will make sure I am not seen.”

“I trust you, Karen.”

Tim Drake does not notice the little spider hidden in his clothes. He returns to Wayne Manor none the wiser. WEBBER clings to his back as he makes his way down to the Batcave. You watch through the little camera from your laptop. Your jaw drops.

Literally every Bat and Bird, former or current, is down there. Even Oracle herself is there. They’re all in civvies, so you suspect they’re just hanging out and chose the goddamn Batcave to do so.

“Just…” you sigh, already done with your spidey luck, “...keep going, K.”

WEBBER hops down from Tim’s back, scrambling across the floor. The mic you impulsively added picks up on conversation.

“I think you’re looking a little too hard into things, man.” It’s Duke Thomas.

“They just seem like the main character trying to find their way into the world. Rich dad sends his kid into adulthood all alone. They struggle to fit in under the guise that they have less money than their peers. ‘Woe is me’ type of stuff, y’know?” Stephanie Brown.

There’s a scoff. “They hold too much intelligence to have that kind of persona. They are able to direct less than welcome attention with careful words and persuasion. They do not pay attention in class, yet their grades are pristine. I’ve seen their drawings in their sketchbook when they are not looking, it’s filled with equations and ideas for ‘personal projects’.”

Is he talking about… you? That sneaky bastard, when did he peek at your notes!? Have you been that distracted at school?

“It says that their dad’s an inventor,” comes Barbara’s voice. She’s on the Batcomputer, WEBBER has been waiting for when she turns around or gets off to make its move. “They obviously get it from him, then. What, you think they’re building a world-ending weapon or something?”

“I think,” he grits out, “that they are a suspicious person, appearing at the same time our new spider friend did.”

Bruce hums. “It’s plausible.”

Goddammit.

Barbara turns around, and WEB scuttles around the back of the Batcomputer. “If they are Spinnerette, It’s not like they’re performing any unwelcome actions. They’re just doing what the rest of us do.”

“Yeah,” comes Dick Grayson, “Bruce is only irked ‘cause he hasn’t gotten the chance to adopt them yet.” A round of chuckles is heard.

WEBBER plugs into the Batcomputer, and an alert pops onto the screen immediately. Barbara whips around, fingers flying onto the keyboard.

“Someone’s hacking into the Batcomputer.” Her words put everyone in the room at attention.

“Trace it,” growls Bruce. It’s a remarkable thing to be able to switch into his Batman mode like that.

Barbara throws up countless defenses, but Karen is an AI made by Tony freakin’ Stark , and you are his protégé.

“They’re bypassing all my shields, they’re getting in!” Barbara growls.

Tim and Bruce race to begin helping her, but your superspeed allows you to type faster than all three geniuses.

They watch as files are opened and downloaded into Karen’s system as she uploads herself. Info about the city, criminals and heroes alike are getting into ‘enemy’ hands before they’re very eyes.

“I can’t track them,” grits Barbara.

The room is silent as Karen finishes her job. Gotham’s protectors are greeted with a single pop-up.

“THANK YOU.”

It taunts them. Bruce slams a hand onto the table. “They have everything .”

“Time to get the hell out of dodge, K.”

WEBBER unplugs from the Batcomputer and scuttles to a hiding spot.

“How is this possible? They were able to dodge and counter all of my firewalls like it was nothing. B, what do we do?” Barbara runs a hand through her hair, stressed. It seems like whenever she visits she can never catch a break.

“Keep trying to find their trace, we’ll find them eventually.” Bruce turns around to see his kiddos standing straight, ready for orders. He looks at Damian.

“Do you think they have the capacity to do this?” He’s talking about you.

“They have a computer programming class. I will observe them to see if it’s possible,” vows Damian. You’ll have to be more careful from now on.

“I’ll ask Selina to keep an eye on them. I owe her a favor.” A few faces twist in disgust at what exactly Selina could have done for him to owe her.

“Suit up, be extra vigilant today. They may try to enact whatever plans they have.”

Nodding, they scurry to change into their suits. WEBBER hitches a ride on Tim again as he exits the cave. The robot hops off as soon as he leaves the manor's grounds. That’s your cue to suit up.

You quickly hop across rooftops and swing to WEBBERs location. Arriving at its location, you cradle the bot gently in your hands, running a finger across its back. “Good job, Karen.”

“There are many old tunnels from previous subways, they may lead to your new lab. I’ve also left a backdoor should we ever need to access their database again.”

You nod, webbing a nearby building to swing away. The city passes under you, bright lights from cars blurring together. You perform flips and twirls, you’re in a pretty good mood, all things considered. People point at you in recognition as you rush by. The people of Gotham are becoming familiar with their new friendly neighborhood spider.

You hop down into the old tunnel. It’s covered in cobwebs and dust. Looking around, you see that the station has not seen life in ages. Footsteps echo as you start down the tracks. The station you’re in right now is accessible through a hole, so hopefully you can find one that is completely caved in.

You hope the team doesn't miss you too terribly. You wonder if you’re even being looked for, and then immediately shake the thought away. You are being looked for. You’re certain that Tony and Miguel are butting heads right now about how to best find you.

The tracks end with a bunch of rocks collapsed onto them. It takes minimal effort to move them out of the way, you just hope you don’t accidentally cause a mini rockslide, or something. You side step the pile, entering the large area of the abandoned station. The walls are littered with aged graffiti. The stairs that normally would lead out are collapsed in. There’s vegetation growing about, so you’ll probably get them something to drink in order to not invoke Poison Ivy’s wrath.

“I believe this will make quite the suitable hideout,” chimes Karen.

She’s right. With some decorating this could be a real cozy place. “A little Spider Den,” you whisper. Your new lab.

When you got home after finding the Den, you got rid of the monstrosity of cables from your gritty suit charger. If Selina Kyle is going to be poking around your apartment (because she’ll definitely do it while you’re gone) you want to appear as a normal person. You leave sketches of throwaway inventions, notes for class and random homework around the place.

May pipes up when she sees you leaving for work, “you look happy.”

You pause, thinking of your answer. “I… found what I was looking for.” It’s vague, but true.

“Since you’ve come here, you’ve always looked troubled,” hums May. “But lately you seem to be finding stable ground.”

You smile and nod, saying nothing as you walk out.

Sam greets you as you walk in. “How was your first week, scholar?”

You groan dramatically, “it’s terrible, save me oh great Sam,” you exaggerate. Sam opens their arms and you fall into them. “There, there,” they coo. “Was it that bad for real?”

“No.” Your voice is muffled in their arms. “I’m just really… bored.”

Sam bursts out laughing. “The little genius baby is stuck with their less than genius peers!” Sam’s voice has drawn out Carrie and Gar.

“Look who’s back! Thank God, kid. This place was falling apart without you,” Carrie says, grinning.

Gar crosses his arms. “Find your ‘rich future spouse’ yet?”

You chuckle, “not yet.”

The pair go off to get the cafe ready for opening, and you're still in Sam’s arms.

“I ever tell you about my own Sam back home?” You’re not sure why you’ve spoken up.

Sam raises a brow. “Don’t think so. You trying to share with the class now?”

Inside the dimly lit workshop at the Tower, you tinker away at Redwing as Sam stands over your shoulder.

“You’re hurting him.”

“He is fine, you big baby. I know what I’m doing.”

It amuses you how much Sam sees Redwing as a living thing. You’re told not to encourage it, but what’s the harm?

“The chip is just a little fried,” you say, angling so that Sam can see. “It’s an easy fix.”

Sam lays a hand on his chest, sighing in relief. “Thought we were gonna have to put him down.” You snort at his dramatics.

The workshop falls into silence as you tinker away. “What made you come up with Redwing?” you say, never one for quiet.

Sam’s face lights up. “I needed something that could give me an edge in the field without being too bulky. A mix of coolness and necessity, you know?” He pokes Redwings’ ‘nose’. “Plus, there’s that winning personality.”

“Personality, huh?” You think of Karen.

“Yeah, Redwings not a tool, he’s a partner.” There’s fondness in Sam’s voice. “He scouts, gathers intel, and watches my back.”

You hum in thought, realizing how similar Redwing and Karen are. “Sounds like the two of you are really close.”

“I like to think so.” The workshop is filled with chatter as the two of you work away the hours.

“Maybe another time,” you mutter, face squished into Sam’s chest. Sam drops the subject.

It’s another slow day at the cafe. You get that inkling that someone is watching you, but you see nobody. You wouldn’t be surprised if Damian is spying on you from the next building over. At least the cafe plays good music over the speakers. You hum the lyrics as you clean the countertops.

The door chimes as someone walks in “Welcome to Carrie’s, how can I help you?”

“Hey, you.”

You look up, meeting the very blue eyes of one Jonathan Kent. You can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. “Hey, you!” you echo, smiling.

Jon brightens up at your smile. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you hum. “I’m really good.” You are. Once night time hits, you’ll go to the Den and finally start on your plans to recreate Tony’s badassium.

“In fact, I feel so good that I’m gonna ask you this; wanna go hang out at my place after I get off?” One might say you’re indulging yourself. You say you’re trying to seems as un-suspicious to Jon as possible. When Damian finds out you have ties to him, he’ll ask Jon everything he knows about you, and possibly even ask him to survey you. Hopefully your front as a regular ole highschooler keeps him from figuring you out.

Jon blinks in surprise, stuttering, “w-well, sure. Yeah. Totally, why not? Just…” he pauses, “...I still don’t know your name.”

You smile. “Shoot, yeah. Sorry about that.” You straighten your posture, sticking out a hand. “I’m [Name]. [Name] Stark.”

You see the little twitch of his brow. Ah, so Damian has already told him about you.

“Nice to meet you, [Name]. I’m Jonathan Kent. Keep calling me Jon, though,” Jon says, shaking your hand.

You pull away. “So, a small vanilla latte for you, not-stranger?”

“You remember,” he chuckles. You nod. You feel his eyes on you as you make his drink.

“So,” you say as you hand him the cup. “I get off at five, see you then?” you feign shyness.

He nods rapidly. “See you at five.”

You count down the minutes until you get off from work. You swear you see some blue blurs rush by in the sky and wonder if it’s Superboy. Wonder if this Batman is more lenient to others operating in Gotham.

The sun has only just begun its descent into the Earth when you step outside. Your bag is thrown over your shoulder. You look around, Jon isn’t there. You doubt he’s the type to bail, so you lean against the front of the building. You busy yourself with some more Crossy Road to pass the time. Five minutes pass, when you sigh. Maybe you were too hasty.

“[Name]!”

You turn, seeing Jon running to you. His appearance is ruffled, his shirt is inside out and his hair is all over the place. He was definitely Superboying around.

“Did you run all the way here?” you offer as an explanation for his appearance.

He claims it. “Yeah, sorry. I got caught up in some stuff.”

You can’t help yourself, and reach up to tame some of his hair. “Looks like you ran through a high powered fan, or something.”

He mindlessly tilts his head to let you do as you please, looking at you. You don’t dare meet his gaze. “Ok,” you say when you’re satisfied with his hair. “Let’s go.”

He offers his arm and you take it. “I wouldn’t think a Gothamite would tell me where they live on our second meeting,” he says.

“They probably wouldn’t,” you hum. “I’m not originally from Gotham, though.”

He blinks. “You’re not? I thought you were.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” It means you’ve done a good job at fitting it. “But no, I’m actually from Queens. New York.”

He hums. “I thought the accent was a little different.”

May greets you as you walk in, widening her eyes when she sees Jon. You ignore her wiggling brows as the two of you make your way up. Entering your apartment, nothing looks out of place, but your trained eye can see the way your papers have shifted from their original position. So Selina Kyle did end up snooping while you were gone.

“This is me,” you say, arms gesturing to the apartment. Nari rounds the corner, meowing for your attention. “And this,” you lift Nari into your arms, “is Nari.”

Jon pets Nari between his ears. “Hi, Nari.”

You put Nari in his arms, ignoring his small protests. Nari looks very content in Jon’s big arms. You snap a picture for yourself.

“My friend is actually a big fan of animals,” hums Jon, looking down at Nari.

“Yeah?” He’s talking about Damian. “The one that goes to GA?”

He nods. “His name is Damian. Damian Wayne. Have you met him?” His eyes bear into yours, switching into that hero interrogation mode. You wonder just how much Damian has told him.

“Yeah, I got a couple of classes with him.” You sit down on your couch, leaning back. “He’s got a real unique persona.” Jon chuckles in agreement, sitting down next to you. “How’d you become friends with a guy like that?”

“Our dads know each other.” Right.

“Well, he’s pretty cute. That’s all I got to say about him,” you say, looking over and snorting at Jon’s expression. His eyes are widened, no doubt wondering if he should leave out the fact that you just said that when he relays the info to Damian later.

“Well, I got some popcorn and some movies on my laptop. You down?” Jon nods.

You spend a couple hours sitting and chatting as you watch a couple of horror movies. Jon acted brave, but you could tell he was just a tiny bit freaked out.

Now, you swing to your new hideout, now equipped with cute fairy lights and cobweb hammocks. It wasn’t hard to get power working in the place, just tedious. Seriously, the amount of rubble you had to clear was atrocious.

You pull up the blueprints on a digital interface via your suit. “Alright, Karen. Let’s get to work."

When Miguel got an alert that you had been requesting assistance, he straightened up immediately. He had been running regular people errands, so he had to quickly stop by the HQ to suit up and get ready. From there he found out you had also contacted Peni, he started rushing. The other Spiderlings had caught wind of this, and demanded to tag along. Miguel and the kids entered a portal to your universe, and were immediately met with the large, inactive particle accelerator.

He hears Miles take a deep breath. It’s just like the one from his universe. You’re nowhere to be seen.

Lyla pops up next to him. “There’s been recent activity here. It was activated two times.”

“Two?” Miguel mutters.

He doesn’t get to dwell on it much, when some of the goddamn Avengers come barreling in. Iron Man, The Hulk (it’s just Bruce Banner right now, though) and Black Widow stand at the ready, looking at Miguel and the gang in apprehension.

“Oh, you’re my kids' little spider friends, right?” Tony’s voice is dry, feigning friendliness as if he isn’t pointing at them, ready to blast.

“We got an alert signal from [Name]’s suit,” Bruce explains, ignoring Tony’s betrayed stare.

“So did we,” says Hobie, analyzing the three.

Lyla tuts. “I’m not picking up their watch's signal.”

“[Name]’s tracker went offline, too.”

Miguel’s eyes scan his surroundings, settling on a pile of broken pieces on the floor. Broken watch pieces. He hears Pav and Gwen gasp as he kneels by it. “It’s their watch,” he explains to the Avengers, “the thing that allows them to multiversal travel.”

“Why is it broken.” Black Widow doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“Because someone must have broken it,” concludes Miguel. He straightens. “The watches are strong, it wasn’t an accident. Someone was here, with [Name].”

“Well now there’s nobody here, and [Name] is off the radar so where are they? ” growls Tony.

“The only plausible answer is that they’re in another universe.” Miguel looks at the particle accelerator. “Without a watch.”

The kids look sick to their stomachs. “Can’t we trace the signal from the accelerator?” questions Peni.

“Normally, I could,” chimes Lyla. “But… I can’t.”

“ Why not?” Miles questions.

“Okay, so you know that there are literally infinite universes out there. If each universe is a satellite and the watches, or the accelerator in this case, is a signal, then there’s only a certain ‘distance’ I can trace [Name]’s whereabouts.”

Gwen thinks she’s getting a headache. “So, what? She’s in a universe that’s ‘too far away’?”

Lyla nods. “In that sense, yes.”

“This is pointless,” huffs Tony, walking up to Miguel. “We are wasting time talking about technicalities, we should be looking for my kid.”

“Is there anyone you know who could’ve built this?” Miguel asks Tony.

“Nobody smart enough has it out that bad for [Name]. Unless it was another me or another [Name] there’s no one capable of doing this without someone noticing,” Tony pauses, looking at the spider variants before him.

Tony’s voice drops into a whisper, “could someone from another universe have done this?”

“If someone from another universe ended up in this one, why throw [Name] into a random one?” Bruce stresses. “They wouldn’t have any strife with Spinnerette.”

“Unless it’s a spidey villain.”

“What spidey villain is smart enough to do this? Doc Ock?”

“Maybe–”

Miguel interrupts, “it was activated twice, so one time was for [Name] entering it, and the other was for whoever broke their watch. They built this–” Miguel gestures to the giant machine, “–so they were obviously here for a while.”

“Only a fool would attempt a multiversal jump without certainty that they could get back home, so that means–”

“–they accidentally got stuck here,” finishes Tony, looking graver by the minute. 

“For who knows how long,” hums Hobie, now in thought.

“Trying to get back home, they build a particle accelerator–”

“–clearly their work is cut out for them, otherwise they would have come up with a much smaller design–”

“–they meet [Name], who would see this and automatically assume they’re a threat.”

“[Name] would try to shut it down, and our mystery guy gets desperate, because [Name]’s the one thing standing between them and their way back home.”

“The particle accelerator is already activated. They see the watch, recognize it as a multiversal travel tool and smash it–”

“–so that [Name] can’t find them–”

“–because they throw [Name] into another universe.”

“They go back home to their universe scott-free.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure how Black Widow’s unhappy with the development.

“In other news, I’ve got the trace of the other person who used the accelerator!” Lyla sings.

Miguel’s face scrunches. “If we don’t know which universe [Name] is in, I really doubt they do.”

“I’d still like a word with them,” Black Widow crosses her arms.

“Maybe later, right now–” Miguel turns to the Spiderlings. “–we should head back to HQ. We’ll send out an alert, every spider will look for [Name] when they can. We’ll search every universe if we have to.”

“Great, what do we do?” Tony asks, gesturing to his comrades.

“Miguel turns back to them. “You said [Name]’s got a tracker in the suit, right?” Tony nods. “We’ll need something that can latch onto its signal as soon as a Spider enters an Earth, no matter how far away they are. Can you build something like that? You can use tech from other universes if you need to.”

Tony nods, resolute. “You better get my kid back.”

Miguel nods. “We will.” A portal opens, swallowing Miguel and the Spiderlings.

“FRI, get the workshop ready and notify the others of the situation,” says Tony, turning around and making his way out of the warehouse. Nat and Bruce follow. “I want Strange and Wanda on this immediately.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Tony mutters under his breath, “I’ll get my damn kid back, alright.”

notes: if you're female-identifying ur def vicky's gay awakening LOL

i'm not entirely sure is "badassium" is the canon name for tony's new element, i actually think i saw somewhere that it was the name fans gave it. either way "badassium" is what we rockin' with.

i hope my explanation as to why reader hasn't been found isn't too confusing. i didn't plan on having it kind of explained so soon but a group up spideys (who are all basically genius cuz they're SPIDERMAN) are bound to figure it out. also like that whole 'the spiders and the avenger' meeting scene was supposed to be in the last chapter but i forgot to add it LOL

also chatgpt came up with webbers acronym guys i am NOT smart enough for that.

damian: good job getting into their base of operations (apartment) now we can gather more info on them

jon, who just wanted to spend time w/ reader: oh yeah lol light work

[theaxolotlkween]

MMMMMYES I am so completely and utterly normal about my headcanons and theories about the Nanite Project era. I am so normal about how pretty much all of the people Rex meets in the show from the Nanite Project that knew him as a child don't quite get that Rex is now older despite seeing him now as a teenager except for DUST EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT AVATAR OF THE WHORE STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING VAN KLEISS OF ALL PEOPLE (César mostly gets a free pass because he's an older sibling but it still does fuck up things along the way). I'm so normal about it and I am normally shoving it down people's throats every chance I get I am like Tad Strange being normal is my game and I love bread.

Prepare yourselves for how completely fucking normal I am, my inhibitions are being deleted and the floodgates are opening. I need to infodump and discuss.

[badguyswin]

Rebel Rogue to Stormtrooper

For the anon that wanted a Han Solo to Stormtrooper TF!

The Imperial research facility on Dantooine was a fortress of cold precision, its subterranean chambers lit by the sterile glow of bioluminescent panels. In the heart of the complex, within a sealed laboratory pulsing with the hum of advanced machinery, Han Solo lay restrained on a sleek obsidian table. His wrists and ankles were bound by magnetic cuffs, his body wired with a network of electrodes and intravenous lines. The air was thick with the acrid scent of chemicals and the faint ozone tang of active circuitry. Above him, a massive neural reconditioner loomed, its array of emitters glowing with a sickly green light. This was Project Ascendant, the Empire’s audacious attempt to forge the ultimate soldier—a drone of unwavering loyalty, enhanced physicality, and controlled desire.

Dr. Varn Korr, the project’s lead scientist, stood at a control console, his fingers dancing across holoscreens displaying Han’s vital signs and neural activity. “Subject Solo,” he said, his voice clinical but laced with a hint of excitement, “your resistance is irrelevant. The procedure will make you a monument to the Empire’s vision.” Han’s eyes, still burning with defiance, flicked toward Korr. “Go to hell,” he spat, his voice hoarse but sharp. Inside, his mind raced—thoughts of Chewie, Leia, the Falcon, the Rebellion. He’d get out of this. He always did.

But the procedure had already begun.

The first phase targeted Han’s body. A series of micro-injectors embedded in the table pierced his skin, delivering a bioengineered serum—a volatile mix of nanites, growth hormones, and gene-editing compounds. The nanites swarmed his muscles, rewriting cellular structures to enhance density and strength. Han’s body convulsed as his lean smuggler’s frame began to change. His biceps swelled, veins bulging like cables under his skin. His chest broadened, pectorals straining against his white shirt. His legs, once wiry, thickened into pillars of raw power. Within minutes, his muscle mass had increased by thirty percent, his body sculpted into a form that rivaled the most elite Imperial commandos. His height remained unchanged, but his presence was now imposing, a weapon forged in flesh.

But the transformation went beyond strength. The serum included a facial reconstruction protocol, designed to erase Han Solo’s identity entirely. Nanites targeted his bone structure, subtly reshaping his jawline to a sharper, more symmetrical angle, enhancing its chiseled definition. His cheekbones lifted, becoming more pronounced, giving him an almost aristocratic handsomeness. His nose, once slightly crooked from a bar fight on Corellia, was straightened and refined. His skin smoothed, scars fading, leaving a flawless complexion that radiated idealized beauty. The face staring back from the reflective surface of a nearby monitor was no longer Han Solo’s—it was a stranger’s, classically handsome, a perfect mask for the Empire’s new weapon.

As the nanites worked, a sleek assistant droid, its limbs tipped with precision tools, approached. “Commencing cranial depilation,” it intoned in a flat monotone. Han’s head jerked against the restraints as the droid’s buzzing clippers descended. His dark, tousled hair—part of his roguish charm—fell in clumps to the floor, leaving his scalp bare and gleaming under the lab’s harsh lights. The droid applied a chemical sealant, ensuring the hair would never grow back, further stripping away his former identity. Han’s fingers twitched, his mind screaming. Not my hair, you bucket of bolts. But the act was symbolic, a final severing of the smuggler’s image.

The serum also targeted his endocrine system, amplifying his testosterone levels to unnatural heights. This wasn’t just for strength—it was a deliberate alteration to heighten his sex drive, a tool for control. The nanites rewired neural pathways linked to pleasure, ensuring that release could only occur on command from an Imperial officer. The result was a constant, gnawing arousal, a torment that pulsed through him like a second heartbeat. Han gritted his teeth as the sensation took hold, a primal urge he couldn’t shake. “What the hell are you doing to me?” he growled, his voice trembling with rage and something else—something he couldn’t name. His new face, handsome but alien, felt like a betrayal of his very self.

Korr’s assistant, a droid with a monotone voice, responded: “The serum enhances physical capability and enforces compliance through controlled dopamine release. You will serve the Empire with unmatched vigor.” Han’s mind recoiled, but his body betrayed him, muscles flexing involuntarily as the nanites completed their work.

The second phase was far crueler. The neural reconditioner activated, its emitters projecting electromagnetic pulses into Han’s brain, targeting his prefrontal cortex, amygdala, and hippocampus. The machine systematically dismantled his sense of self, burying memories of his life under a haze of distortion. The pulses didn’t erase them; they smothered them, overlaying new directives. The Empire was order. The Empire was purpose. The Empire was everything.

Han’s thoughts fought back, a maelstrom of defiance. I’m Han Solo. I don’t kneel to anyone. He clung to fragments—the Falcon’s cockpit, Chewie’s roar, Leia’s defiant glare. But each pulse sent a wave of euphoria, a false pleasure tied to Imperial loyalty. The first time he pictured the Emperor’s throne, a shiver of satisfaction ran through him, and he hated it. No, that’s not me. “Get out of my head!” he rasped, sweat beading on his newly sculpted face. His bald scalp gleamed, a stark reminder of his fading identity.

Korr leaned in, his voice almost soothing. “Resistance is futile, Solo. The procedure rewrites your neural architecture. Every rebellious thought will be rerouted to loyalty. Every desire will serve the Empire.” He increased the reconditioner’s intensity, and Han’s mind screamed as his memories fractured. The Rebellion became a vague chaos, a blight to be eradicated. Leia’s face blurred, replaced by the stark lines of an Imperial crest. The pleasure of serving the Empire felt… right. Natural.

The final stage imprinted a new identity: TK-417. The designation rooted itself in his psyche, a truth that overshadowed Han Solo. The smuggler was a relic, a shadow of disorder. TK-417 was the future—a perfect drone, his handsome face and muscular form a testament to Imperial perfection. The constant arousal, now a permanent undercurrent, was tied to this identity. Obedience promised relief, however fleeting. Disobedience brought only torment. As the procedure neared completion, Han’s thoughts grew ordered, mechanical. The Empire is order. I am TK-417. I will serve.

As the neural reconditioner powered down, the assistant droid approached once more, its arm now fitted with a precision tattooing tool. “Initiating permanent identification marking,” it stated. The droid’s needle hummed, piercing the skin of TK-417’s left pectoral muscle. Han’s body twitched, the pain sharp but fleeting, as the droid etched the code “TK-417” in bold, black Imperial script. The tattoo was deep, permanent, a brand declaring him property of the Empire. The sight of it, reflected in a nearby monitor, sealed the transformation. The last vestige of Han Solo recoiled at the mark, but TK-417 felt a surge of pride—the Empire’s claim on him was absolute, a badge of his purpose.

In the early stages, Han’s mind was a warzone. The physical changes were a violation—his muscles too heavy, his face unfamiliar, his scalp bare and cold. The tattoo on his chest burned, a constant reminder of his captivity. The arousal was a humiliating distraction, a need that clawed at his focus. I’m still me, he told himself, picturing the Falcon’s controls or Leia’s smirk. But the experimental serum still pumping through his veins made his body feel alien, too strong, too perfect. When he caught his reflection, the handsome stranger staring back unnerved him. That’s not my face. The loss of his hair and the tattoo on his chest felt like personal insults, stripping away his roguish identity.

By the third day, the reconditioner began to win. He’d think of the Rebellion and feel a programmed disgust, a betrayal of his core. No, I’m with them. But the pleasure of imagining Imperial victories was undeniable, a drug seeping into his thoughts. He saw himself in white armor, his new face hidden, his bald head encased in a helmet, the tattoo a mark of honor, and for a moment, it felt right. He shook it off, cursing Korr, the Empire and above all his own weakness. 

Those brief moments of clarity soon faded. By the fifth day, Han Solo was a ghost. TK-417 dominated, his thoughts a loop of devotion. The arousal was a leash, driving him to obey for the promise of release. The tattoo on his chest, once a source of rage, now felt like a badge of purpose. When Korr tested him, ordering him to recite Imperial doctrine, the words flowed effortlessly: “The Empire brings order. I am its instrument.” The pride in his voice, resonating from his perfect jawline, sickened the fading spark of Han, but it was buried deep.

When the procedure was complete, TK-417 was led to the facility’s armory, a cavernous chamber lined with racks of gleaming stormtrooper armor. His transformation was absolute—his physique a marvel of broad shoulders and chiseled muscles, the tattooed “TK-417” stark against his left pectoral. His face, now classically handsome, was a mask of Imperial ideals, his bald scalp a symbol of his erased past. The assistant droid guided him to a designated station where his personalized armor awaited, its white plastoid plates polished to a mirror sheen. The sight of it stirred something in TK-417—not a memory, but a programmed instinct. This was his purpose, his destiny.

As he began to don the armor, the process felt ritualistic, each piece a step deeper into his new identity. He started with the black bodysuit, its tight fabric clinging to his enhanced musculature, accentuating every curve and bulge. The sensation of the material against his skin sent a shiver through him, and the ever-present arousal surged, his body responding with a hard, throbbing intensity. The serum’s effects were relentless, tying his desire to acts of service. Dressing in the armor, becoming the Empire’s weapon, was an act of devotion, and it inflamed his need. He adjusted the bodysuit, his breath quickening, the tightness amplifying his arousal to a near-painful edge. Release was impossible without a command, leaving him in a state of perpetual, maddening want.

Next came the plastoid plates. TK-417 fastened the chest piece, the tattoo of his designation now hidden beneath the armor’s protective shell. The weight of it felt right, a physical manifestation of his loyalty. As he secured the pauldrons, greaves, and gauntlets, his movements were precise, mechanical, each click and snap reinforcing his purpose. The armor was an extension of the Empire, and encasing himself in it was an act of surrender to its will. His arousal intensified with every piece, his body trembling as he fought the urge to seek relief that would never come without permission. The sensation was exquisite torture, a reminder of his place as a tool of the Empire.

Finally, he lifted the helmet, its black eye lenses staring back like twin voids. As he lowered it over his bald scalp, the HUD flickered to life, feeding him tactical data and Imperial directives. The helmet sealed with a hiss, erasing his handsome features, leaving only the faceless visage of a stormtrooper. Inside, TK-417’s mind was a furnace of devotion, his arousal a constant hum that drove him to obey. He stood before a mirror, the reflection showing not Han Solo, but a perfect Imperial drone, ready to enforce order.

Captain Drex entered, his polished boots clicking on the floor. He inspected TK-417, his gaze lingering on the armored figure. “Impressive, TK-417,” he said, his voice laced with sadistic amusement. “You’re a fine specimen of the Empire’s vision.” He stepped closer, his presence commanding. “Kneel.” TK-417 dropped to one knee, his armor clanking softly, his arousal spiking at the command. The promise of release was a beacon, but Drex only smirked. “Not yet. Prove your worth on the battlefield.”

As TK-417 boarded a shuttle for his first mission, his thoughts were a hymn to the Empire. I will make the galaxy kneel. The armor, still warm against his skin, felt like a second skin, each movement stoking the fire of his desire. The tattoo beneath his chest plate was a silent vow, a mark of ownership. The spark of Han Solo flickered faintly, stirred by a distant Rebel transmission mentioning a Wookiee and a princess, but it was too weak to matter. TK-417 marched forward, a mindless drone, his enhanced body a weapon, his desires a chain, his tattooed mark and gleaming armor a testament to his purpose—the Empire’s alone.

[viridian-snow]

Wish I was a fly on the wall in Providence's labs with the reassembled nanite project team. I just know there must've been so much drama between them. I think it'd be really funny to see more of their interactions

[yuriosakawa]

“See you around?” 

One constant of the Omniverse is that Ben Tennyson, regardless of whether he’s a hero or a villain, will always have the Omnitrix. It’s a universal truth. A fixed point in the infinite spiral of possibility.

Except for one.

In one peculiar timeline, there exists a version of Ben who never received the Omnitrix—because it never existed in his universe. This version, dubbed No Watch Ben, never became a hero. He never fought aliens, never saved the world, never even flew in a spaceship.

Instead, he lived a normal, uneventful life—one filled with average grades, predictable routines, and a growing sense of exasperation toward the crushing regularity of it all. Deep down, Ben longed for something more. A spark. A moment. Anything to make his life feel less… gray.

Then, on what seemed like the first day of yet another gruelingly ordinary school year, fate—or maybe something gentler—intervened.

With his arms full of school supplies and half his mind elsewhere, Ben wasn’t watching where he was going. Like a scene ripped straight out of a teen romance movie, he collided headfirst into another student.

The other student? A new transfer named Richard Salazar—or as he shyly introduced himself, Rex.

Like Ben, Rex’s destiny had been altered. In this universe, there were no nanites, no secret weaponized virus. The Nanite Project had never been conceived. And so, this Rex never gained powers or joined a global defense agency. Instead, he was a prodigy born into a globe-trotting family of scientists, with encyclopedic knowledge of the world but very little experience in making friends.

As the two scrambled to pick up their scattered supplies, their hands brushed. Their eyes met. And in that quiet moment, time seemed to pause.

There were no alien invasions. No world-ending catastrophes.

Just a brief, blush-tinged silence—and the kind of magic that only happens in the most unexpected of places.

And just like that, something extraordinary began.

Because sometimes, the love story of Ben Tennyson and Rex Salazar doesn’t need galactic stakes or explosive battles.

Sometimes, it can be as simple as a high school hallway and a look that lingers just a second too long.

Sometimes, all it takes… is a teen romance.

[kalpeavaris]

Other than the AU gang do you have any murder drones ocs?

Oh, I am SO glad you asked anon! I've been waiting to spam my profile with my OCs but with my AU project going off lately I was hesitant if people would even be interested in original characters or even other stories that don't primarily involve the canon characters. :D

So let me hit you with the giant wall of text that is all this stowed concept art & story I have lying around waiting to finally be released (especially written, lol) Below the cut is all the information to my AU/own story set after the Absolute Solvers defeat in 3071.

Lemme introduce you to my personal project:

"Murder Drones: Echo"

“It takes a demon to kill an angel.”

Let's start with the most important stuff, the characters! This line-up is relatively fresh but it still misses 1-2 characters (especially SD-K) which I haven't finished designing yet. A little bit of info is written below the characters, buuut to add more context Imma just speedrun through them lol

Alot of these characters can be found on TOYHOUSE! (requires you to be logged in, sorry :c)

Serial Designation Y - Trans-masc host (build intended to be female presenting, doesn't love that though. He identifies with the male type much more and it shows). He's the secondary host to ECHO, the main antagonist of the story and has 6 wings (not feathered, they're shaped from membrane and take the shape of feathered wings).

Serial Designation D - A character that is also set on appearing in my MD AUs (like Synemy) - and she has appeared in the Synemy fanfiction before as a flashback character that worked with Cyn! She's a former maid and was rebuilt as Disassembly Drone by the Solver itself. As Dina (her true name) had feelings for Cyn she followed the Solver thanks to it using Cyns body as host. She's neither a good nor bad person in the story but rather a neutral force that just wants to be left alone.

Serial Designation X - A Communication Disassembly Drone that worked in a squad with K & T. She's fairly quiet and rarely talks and if she does, it's mainly to bring up good points. Or to insult someone because they're annoying, lmao. She wears glasses as she misses the main eyes DDs have (the yellow lights on the headband) - she's incredibly short sighted and therefore rarely ever involves herself in aerial fights. She uses close-combat techniques as she used to be a ring fighter before being rebuild.

Serial Designation T - The navigator of the 3-people-squad with X & K. He LOVES 1980s music and salvages places online & IRL for music and CDs. He's not above rick-rolling people. B) He met Kira in 3050s where his programming to kill Solver Hosts was overwritten by the Solver, causing him to become neutral towards her. One thing led to another and they had a child. Whoops! (they're madly in love)

You can also find more stuff on him (and Kira!) on their shared Pinterest Profile B)

Evie (also spelled "Eve") - Ts & Kiras daughter. Her body was constructed to be a hybrid of both a Worker Drone & a Disassembly Drone. She's the perfect middle ground of her parents (not only regarding her height). Her drive to kill Workers is not really present, though she can be very "feral" if she's starving. Still needs Oil to survive and cannot go into the sun - doesn't have nanite acids, but instead a stinger. T made sure not to give her acid. He's worried she'll hurt herself with it.

Kira ("ZWEI") - Kira is one of the Drones that was held at the Cabin Fever Labs similar to Nori and Yeva. She was number 24 (yes ik there's a name for that number in the show but since those names are names from workers on the MD staff team they're more easter eggs and less canon ig) and as a communication drone, her Solver gave her differing powers. She escaped from the labs in the mid 3050s after a botched patch and found herself an Outpost to reside in until she met T. Kiras antennas were able to pick up communication between the Solver & the landing pots, making her aware of the upcoming threat. Her existence as com-drone makes it easy for Echo to manipulate her as well as she cannot tune out incoming signals easily.

Motte - Motte is Echos main host (similar to how Cyn was to the Absolute Solver), with the exception that Echo doesn't inhabit her body all the time; only if it needs to speak through her. Motte is completely blind, her visor crached & her left eye replaced by Echos symbol that glows when she's in active possession. Before the possession she was a worker drone in Outpost 4 and quite a friendly individual. Ever since being possessed Motte is extremely paranoid, doesn't speak (semi-voluntarily, since she fears hearing her voice thinking it might be Echo). She's close with Y due to them sharing the same fate as hosts and he's the only person she allows around her. She's not evil or even slightly motivated to follow Echos commands, she's simply being used against her will (dw, she'll get her comfort to the hurt).

ECHO - main villain of the whole thing. Echo itself is a mutated line of code that seperated itself from the Absolute Solver code back in the Cabin Fever Labs when the humans experiemented with it. It mainly affects communication drones and was first seen within Kira, although it was patched from her and moved onto Motte for it's main host. It's a true neutral entity in the beginning, not differencing good from bad or even having slightly grey area understanding. It does *does*. In the evolution of the story Echo gains a pretty dangerous god complex, seeking out power beyond understanding. Other than the Solver it doesn't wish to satisfy hunger or seek out matter to consume, instead, it wants to experience true ascencion - human emotions and more. It's highly motivated by it's drive to know things, being inspired by human religion (especially christianity) with it's true form being a humongus Ophanim inspired burning wheel that is formed from biological matter, eyes and light.

Echo assumes a more "drone-like" appearance when not needing it's massive true form. It tries to imitate the Workers and well... fails, since it doesn't really look like any normal Worker Drone. It really loves halo symbolism which also results in it's powers and main emblem/symbol being a halo-like structure that manifests in it's victims eye. For that it usually destroys the eye in place. Echo is very capable, though not immortal. Like the Solver there is a way to contain it, but for spoiler reasons I won't share this for now!

(Not shown on this chart but imma share them anyways!)

Serial Designation K - K is one of the squad members that came to Copper-9 with T & X. While T and X slowly started to warm up to Kira and not actively killing the Workers anymore she herself was entirely disconnected from that. K is, to be frank, just fucking through the roof. She enjoys the Solvers task of killing off the life around planets and gladly does so. Stopping just because a Worker "is nice" isn't on her to-do list so she's... well, more or less excluded from the Squad which made her angry. On one hand - understandable, on the other hand she's killing everything she sees, sooo...

She's a minor antagonist in the story and serves as obstacle to go through. Even with the Solver gone K isn't convinced to stop which comes with a price to pay if you actively try to hinder people from finding their loved ones. :X

Alex - Alex is a human soldier from another exoplanet that wasn't yet destroyed by the Solver - the Iron system. He works in the IDF (iron defense force) and when the military on Iron-3 get the message that Solver activity has been spotted again in the Copper System (as well as Echos activity) he and his team is sent to Copper-9 to weed out the reminaing Solver Hosts (and later on Echo Hosts). Alex isn't the biggest fan of Drones but works with Iris to keep their mission afloat.

Iris - Iris is a Drone built to assist in military-grade operations. She's a bit similar to Disassembly Drones (though with differening looks) that is working with Alex' squad in order to destroy Solver Hosts & remnants still alive on Copper-9 to avoid another spread (not being aware that the Solver itself is contained and still alive... oh well... sounds like drama. Hehe.) Her name is an acronym for Intelligent Response and Information System.

So, what's the story? Is there anywhere I can look for stuff?

Well, the story right now is still being written & in draft form. It'll be released on my AO3 when it's presentable!

Basically the story plays after the Solvers defeat in 3071 and spans over a few months. It starts of with a semingly smaller mission of Evie searching for her parents who've gone missing after the Solvers defeat - trying to make sense from the entire situation only to stumble onto something WAY bigger than she (and the people helping her) anticipated in finding.

Will there be canon characters?

Yes! Since the B Plot of the story also revolves around humans trying to kill off the remaining Solver Hosts (and the Solver itself) canon characters will be included too. Obviously the characters from Outpost 3 such as Uzi, N & V primarily.

There will also be canon & fanon character interaction! B)

Anything else I could seek out for this story?

Check out this cool playlist I made for the story! It has edgy songs (woah! who could've thought when it's about MD?!), sad songs! (i love making characters suffer for plot purposes!), cool fight songs (NICE robots smashing each other to bits on the battlefield! B)) and much more (which will be expanded upon in the future hehe)

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Alt Assistant AU Pt 2

Kara takes Lena's confrontation as a challenge. She's faced icy walls before-- she'll melt them again. But just as in the previous reality, Lena doesn't make it easy.

The pastries Kara begins delivering with Lena's coffee every morning go straight to the trash, every time, with a sharp look and an even sharper, "Don't."

Don't.

The word becomes Kara's frequent companion, issued any time she steps outside the bare minimum of her role.

Meals Lena doesn't order, but that Kara knows she likes-- don't.

A post it smiley note pressed to the cup of her coffee-- don't.

The snort when Kara hears a particularly cutting remark in response to a particularly sexist board member-- don't.

Kara's used to the rebuffs, as she's already weathered them before. But these are different. Before, in the previous reality that got so twisted, Lena's refusals were to protect herself, audibly defensive. But "don't".... Lena says it with an obstinance she's never had before.

But Kara doesn't mind it.

In fact, she relishes the opportunity to lift an arch brow in response to each of those stubborn don'ts, a challenge in her own right.

Try and stop me, it says, smug and confident in a way Kara hasn't felt in years. She has the knowledge of a whole reality behind her, and Lena.... Lena has no idea what's coming to her.

The fact that Lex hadn't seen fit to give her Supergirl in this reality only helps.

She's a little surprised that she feels this way, but also a little not. She's been tired for a long time, and had never been able to find the voice to ask for rest. Now she has it in spades, and uses it to research everything she can about Lena in this reality.

Each tidbit Kara learns warms her insides, in a way that was only ever a tickle before. That Lena is an Olympic medalist, and prodigious TedTalker. That her cancer research has served as the foundation for the world's bleeding edge developments on the subject, and that her nanites are already used in crisis areas around the globe.

That Jack Spheer lives, spearheading it all on Lena's behalf when L-Corp pulls her elsewhere.

She thinks to send him an alert to an upcoming gap in Lena's schedule while he's in town, knowing that Lena would have already declined to leave her office, but her finger hesitates on the send button.

Kara remembers much about the previous reality, including the way her stomach had burned that night in that restaurant, watching Lena's gaze spark with interest when Jack spoke of their project.

This time, she can do something about her jealousy-- she doesn't send the message.

"Don't," Lena issues pre-emptively the next morning, when Kara returns to clear signs of an all-nighter. Lena accepts the coffee, but as always dumps the pastry.

"Don't what?"

It pulls Lena's gaze to her, sharp and direct as always. It doesn't daunt Kara anymore. She almost smirks.

Lena's lips purse ever so slightly.

"You know what."

That's all she says, and this time Kara does smirk. She saunters back to desk, and feels Lena's gaze on her all the way out.

[infiniteeight8]

Hello! More enemies-to-lovers, please? I am entirely invested in this.

Previous parts in this mini-series can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/4654810

Behind a cut for length. This mini-series acknowledges no length limits. 😂

-

Tony makes a suit. 

It takes him almost a month, and he keeps it a secret the entire time. Stephen and Sangita and the apprentices all clearly know that he’s working on something secret, but despite this, they neither question him nor shut him out of the Sanctum’s protected rooms. The Sanctum, which could easily reveal the secret, helps him keep it. When the suit is done, Tony just stares at the diamond shaped nanite casing for nearly an hour. In the end, it’s the memory of that trust that makes him pick it up.

He finds Stephen in the library. He’s usually there, if he and Tony aren’t together. Tony lingers by a bookcase for a moment, watching him. The Cloak is elsewhere, and Stephen is completely focused on the book he’s reading. One fingertip is resting absently on his lips, as if to remind himself not to mutter the spells aloud while he reads. Tony’s heart swells and his last uncertainty over the suit fades.

Stephen looks up as he approaches and smiles with a warmth that Tony will never tire of. “Is it dinner time already?” he asks, setting the book aside and standing.

“No. I finished my secret project.” Tony holds out the nanite casing. “This is for you.”

Stephen starts to take it and then pauses, the casing suspended between the two of them. “Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a suit, then yeah.”

“Are you sure?” Stephen asks, his gaze searching Tony’s.

“Yes,” Tony says firmly. Stephen takes the casing, turning it over in his hands. “You can wear it instead of your robes, or just under them. It’ll work either way. If you activate the casing when you’re already dressed, deployment will take longer since the nanites will have to get through your clothes—they’re designed to be relatively close-fitting—but it’ll still work. It’s not as heavy-duty as my suit was; don’t plan on taking a direct hit from a rocket launcher while you’re wearing it. But it’ll protect you from small arms fire and most blunt impacts. It’s one hundred percent resistant to cutting attacks and it can dissipate both heat and cold, although there is an upper limit to both. There’s no helmet; I didn’t think you’d want that, but I can add one if you prefer. It does include gloves. The nanites themselves are completely magically inert.” That little detail had sucked up most of Tony’s engineering time. “There’s no flight capability—I figure the Cloak has that covered—but the impact buffering should protect you from most falls as long as you don’t land head first.” Tony runs out of breath, then, and has to stop.

Stephen presses the casing to his chest, where it adheres. He smiles, a small, tender thing. “I love you, too.”

Tony barks out a laugh and looks away. Of course Stephen would realize. He swallows hard and makes himself look at Stephen. “This doesn’t mean I’ve made any long term decisions,” he says. He’s been living in the Sanctum for months now, but he’s never really committed to anything.

“I understand,” Stephen says, stepping closer. 

“It also doesn’t mean I want a relationship,” Tony says quickly. He does, but— “That’s more complicated than just… feelings.”

“Relationships always are,” Stephen says, a little wryly. He takes another step closer, anyway. He’s close enough to kiss, now. “Tony,” he says quietly, “Anything and everything that happens is entirely your decision. Beginning a relationship with me, or not. Staying here in the Sanctum, or leaving. Returning to your former life, or building an entirely new one, distinct from me and the Avengers both. It’s up to you, and if all I ever have of you is these months, I’ll still be grateful for them.”

Tony closes his eyes and shakes his head. God, that only makes him want Stephen more. He’s felt the weight of expectations on his shoulders his entire life. His parents, Obadiah, the board, the press, the Avengers: they all have very clear ideas of who and what Tony Stark should be. The only people who’ve ever taken him as he comes are Stephen and his sorcerers.

“Thank you,” Stephen says, and starts to step away.

Tony reaches out before he can and pulls Stephen into a hard, desperate kiss. Stephen meets him with equal hunger, wrapping his arms around Tony and deepening the caress. Tony shivers at the hot slide of Stephen’s tongue over his and sucks softly, revelling in the way Stephen leans into him. Eventually the kiss eases into something softer, sweeter. They keep going that way for a long time, but it has to end eventually. When Tony pulls back, Stephen’s expression is beatific. 

“I still can’t make any promises,” Tony says reluctantly.

Stephen’s expression doesn’t darken, not even a bit. “I know.”

‘I know’ sounds an awful lot like ‘I love you, too’ did.