Respect Ace people and their boundaries!!!!
OR ELSE
I’ll hide your phone chargers and move all the shit in your house 3/4 inch to the left! And hide your spoons!!!!!

#batman#dc comics#dc#bruce wayne#dick grayson#batfam#dc fanart#tim drake#batfamily




seen from Italy
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Iraq

seen from Canada
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from Italy

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Yemen
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Indonesia
Respect Ace people and their boundaries!!!!
OR ELSE
I’ll hide your phone chargers and move all the shit in your house 3/4 inch to the left! And hide your spoons!!!!!
Mechsploitation except its Cold War Spy shenanigans
and instead of fighting in mechs its spies and their handlers in Cold War Berlin
This hound may sound desperate, but does anyone know where to get a custom/human muzzle? I saw an indie leathermaker a while back, but I can't find them anymore.
"Get the fuck up pilot"
Five simple words. Five simple words uttered in desperation. That blend of anger and panic stewing with the tinge of real care or just pragmatism. Like you could hear how their fingers curl into a fist or clench the mug of coffee tighter.
Silence is common in the field. Useless chatter is useless. But this kind of quiet is wrong. Wait a beat. Wait a beat. Wait a beat. Wait a beat. Wait a beat.
A wet cough. A wheeze maybe. A sign of life that rings the death bell just as much as vitals going dark. Sure the frame is willing. Is the hound willing? Is flesh willing? How much can they take? Is the hound willing?
Is the hound willing? A question no handler likes to admit they have to ask. That their authority is undermined. Even the most obedient pilot has a will of their own. A living weapon is still living. How much do they want this life? How much do they want to live? Do they want to get up?
Still waiting for a real response.
"I gave you an order, now get up"
Should have gotten sterner stock. Something more hardy. Not something like this, prone to give up. Prone to bleed in the cockpit and curl into a ball dying slowly. The frame is willing. Steel alloy is willing. Onboard combat systems are ready.
Eyes flash open properly. The dog is up.
|𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑻|
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I'm on my hound robert bullshit again. So here are random headcanons.
Since I don't know literally anything about mechs OR the whole "warhound" thing (i suppose it's some kinda book?) and my only expertise is evangelion and Warhammer 40k, please don't look for logic in these.
→ WIP
• he's one of the most calm hounds (pilots, will be used interchangeably since idk and idc). Always quiet and really, really obedient. He doesn't even need one of those obedience drugs they give all the other hounds in the facility. He's just so perfect for it. So he's always used as an example. Which... Causes him to have a massive ego. As much as a hound can posess an ego at all, he's really proud of himself.
• this all also causes him to be REALLY sensitive to praise. Since he doesn't really get scolded much (he's got a fixation on numbers. After each fight Robert is the first to check the leaderboard. For sure his name is right at the top, with all the regalia displayed besides. And a ridiculously high efficiency/battlepower/kill count.) but when he does get scolded he just shuts down. When some other hound can lash out and attempt to bite it's handler (or whatever hounds do, idk) Robert just... Sits there. He doesn't cry, of course, all emotions have been surely eradicated through years of conditioning, but the deep feeling of inadequacy remains. And don't even mention having his name at the #2 spot on the leaderboard. It's his worst nightmare.
• he's one of the pilots who always chills with the maintenance folks down in the hangars. He can surely do everything himself at this point, but he's just a pilot. He isn't allowed to do that. And he can't do that. (He can but shhhh)
But when he's alone he sticks his fingers inside the parts he can reach and caresses the cold smooth metal. Sometimes he sniffs the oil. (He's always spacey after, because aside from oil he huffs every single solvent and liquid he can find. He's a hound after all, has a sensitive nose. Plus it just feels good.)
• → to be continued ...
You know, one thing Skadi kinda is disappointed in is that unlike rest of pack and others it knows, Skadi doesn’t really have a reaction to pain that’s enjoyable to watch or hear; it just doesn’t really react. Remember a friend describing Skadi with a video game quote that went something like, “they’re the type of thing that just gets angry when you shoot them.”
Skadi is a patch work of weird scars; it has been stabbed between the ribs, lost a chunk of its hand and still has a rock in there, crushed a pinky till could see bone, was hit by a ford f150 while riding our bike to work, skidded across the pavement and then walked the rest of the way to work, had male breast cancer as a kid and torn it’s arm open on a machine at work and now it scarred over.
Skadi just doesn’t really react to pain that much. To drive the point home: when Skadi tore it’s arm open on a machine at work it used to press its fingers into the wound because it liked the heat radiating off of it and would pick at it to taste the blood ⚫️
The "doll" part of me wants to be small and delicate and cherished
The "dog" part of me wants to be powerful and dangerous and collared
Trying to combine how we feel so we can form an opinion on combat dolls gives the vibe of something like a clockwork werewolf, armor underplating peeking from beneath shattered porcelain, shreds of a once-pristine servant's dress hanging from it like a shroud as new fangs and claws slide into place