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kirbyofthestars · 3 months

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a fairly detailed kirby oc ask meme

🪐 (Saturn) - What planet are they from? Is it in Gamble Galaxy, Another Dimension, the Mirror World, the New World, or somewhere else? Where do they live now?

🧃 (Juicebox) - What species are they? What’s their biology and physiology like? Do they differ in any way from a ‘typical’ member of their species?

⚔️ (Crossed Swords) - What weapon(s) do they wield or specialize in, if any in particular? Any special properties? Do their weapons have names or epithets? [e.g. MK’s Galaxia, Morpho’s Doomblade]

🪄 (Magic Wand) - Are they capable of wielding magic? Is it a learned skill, or is it innate? What sorts of spells can they cast? Do they possess any magical items or artifacts? [e.g. the Dimensional Mantle]

💫 (Shooting Star) - If they were to wish on a clockwork star, like Galactic Nova or Star Dream, what would they wish for?

🪽 (Wing) - Can they fly, hover, or levitate? Is it through natural means or artificial means? If they have wings, what do they look and feel like?

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

🧋 (Boba Tea) - Come up with a Kirby Café item themed around your OC! It can be a savoury dish, a drink, a dessert, or something else entirely.

☀️ (Sun) - What’s their morning routine like? Do they take a lot of time getting ready in the morning? How do they groom themselves? What are they having for breakfast?

🌙 (Moon) - Is your OC a particularly light or heavy sleeper? Somewhere in-between? Do they take naps?

🍅 (Tomato) - If Kirby absorbed them or their attacks, what Copy Ability [or Abilities] would he get? Alternatively, if they themselves are capable of using the Copy Ability, do they have a favourite?

⚡️ (Lightning Bolt) - Which Power Effects [Blizzard, Bluster, Sizzle, Splash, Zap] would their attacks grant? Do they have any particular weaknesses or resistances, elemental or otherwise?

🎶 (Music Notes) - Do they play any instruments? What kind of leitmotif and/or battle theme would they have? Are there any songs you associate with them?

💌 (Love Letter) - How easy are they to befriend? Are they more of a social butterfly or a lone wolf?

💥 (Collision) - What’s your OC’s combat style like? Do they adhere to any particular code of honour or ethics in a fight, or are they totally unfettered by that sort of thing?

⚙️ (Gear) - Do they have any knowledge of, or connections to, the Ancients? What do they think of them?

⚖️ (Scales) - On the subject of a certain someone’s lengthy rant; is your OC moreso on the side of magic or science? Somewhere in-between? Do they incorporate the two together in some way?

🍨 (Ice Cream) - The Invader Armour undergoes a drastic transformation depending on its pilot. If they were to wield it, what appearance would their mech take on? What abilities would it have?

🪞 (Mirror) - What would their Mirror World counterpart be like? If they are a Mirror World counterpart, what traits of theirs are reflected? Do the two of them get along?

🐛 (Caterpillar) - What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid?

💼 (Bag) - Inventory check! What items does your OC typically carry around with them? What do they carry them in?

🔮 (Crystal Ball) - Out of all the treasures in the Great Cave Offensive, Kirby is letting your OC pick one from his stash to keep! Which one do they pick, and why?

♟️ (Pawn) - Does your OC get possessed easily, or do they have the willpower to fight back against any possible attempts? Have they been possessed before?

🕸️ (Spiderweb) - Create a bouquet inspired by your OC! It can be based on their colour palette, flower language and symbolism, whatever they like best, or any combination of the three.

💜 (Purple Heart) - If they were corrupted by the Jamba Heart, which negative traits of theirs would be amplified?

🩷 (Pink Heart) - If they were a Dream Friend, what would their moveset be like? How much HP do they have? Would they be a strong attacker, or would they take on more of a support role?

🦁 (Lion) - If they were an animal — that is, of the Earth / Shiver Star / New World variety — which animal would they be? If they already are an animal, what real-life species or subspecies are they most similar to?

🕰️ (Clock) - What would a Dreamy Gear version of them look like? What sort of accessories would they have? What kind of role do they play?

🛡️ (Shield) - Which Clash role would your OC pick - Sword Hero, Hammer Lord, Beam Mage, or Doctor Healmore?

🦋 (Butterfly) - Does your OC ‘fear the reaper’, so to speak? If they fused with Morpho Knight, what sort of form would they take on?

🍒 (Cherry) - Out of all of the Dream Friends [Kirby included], which ones would they get along with the most? The least?

🥀 (Wilted Rose) - Do they have a Soul form? What would it look and act like? How much control over themselves do they have? Is it still possible to save them, or are they too far gone?

#kirby #kirby oc #long post #ask meme #lorena.txt

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

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“Scara, can I have a hug? Don’t look at me like that…I just really need it right now, okay? It’s the least you can do.”

It takes every ounce of strength in his artificial being not to tackle you in an embrace right then and there.

His jaw is set so tight it might as well have been wired shut — sheer willpower keeping him stationary. He tells his stupid, totally not lovesick brain to focus, heeding his commands instead of caving into primal urges that he thought himself above before he met you. The Balladeer has a reputation to maintain. When you’re a Harbinger, there are eyes and ears everywhere, the Tsaritsa’s loyal little goons always eager to report back.

Scaramouche can’t afford to look weak, but that’s exactly what you make him.

“... I will consider your request,” his voice sounds strained, even to his ears. “In the meantime, do be mindful of your— oof!"

You must’ve seen fit to take matters into your own hands (or arms, in this instance), securing yourself around him and squeezing tight. He isn’t sure what’s warmer in that moment; his face or your body wrapped in a winter coat to combat the Snezhnayan climate. He has to chew on his lip to stop himself from whimpering when you tuck your head into his neck.

His fingers twitch by his side, his arms hanging limp and useless, eyes wide blown.

You’re so close you feel so good smell so good—

He reciprocates your embrace, holding you like you’d vanish if he ever let go. It’s different than when you struggle against him. This is infinitely better. He could stay here for hours, days even, if not for your pesky mortal interferences like needing to ‘eat’ or ‘sleep’.

There’s a barely perceptible rustle in the distance that he has no trouble picking up on, while you remain none the wiser. He fights back a scoff at this newfound knowledge. Her Majesty should really invest in better personnel. Now that the nuisance has given themselves away, he can dispatch of them later.

For now, though, he’s going to take everything you’re offering him and maybe some more.

#yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #interactions #my stuff #answered #Anonymous

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vshushmshu · 8 months

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sunkissed

the television droned on in the background, a rerun of some reality tv show that you couldn’t really care less about, draped across the couch while trying to keep yourself awake. you rubbed at your eyes countless times, trying to keep them from drifting closed while the smell of butter wafted throughout the apartment, but it only made your vision bleary when you blinked them open after. your sunny friend was flipping pancakes in the kitchen, humming along to a some tune he heard previously. he, in particular, had been fascinated by cooking for some reason, but you weren’t complaining since you got decent food for free.

well, it wasn’t decent at all at first. quite charred and gut wrenching, and the robot would’ve damn near cried if his metal face allowed it at how you heaved after trying his first project, spaghetti. he got better with time though, mastering a variety of dishes pretty quick. you probably shouldn’t be surprised considering he was artificial intelligence, but you had to admit you were proud. tired, with pockets near empty, but proud.

you didn’t realize you spaced out until you heard sun call from over his shoulder, “they should be done soon, friend. you might want to come on over!”

after taking a minute to process, you dragged your hand over to the general area where you chucked the remote, fumbling with the buttons to turn the tv off. using sheer willpower, you pushed yourself off the couch and slunk your way into the kitchen, greeting the ever-peppy sun. he swiveled his head around to look at you, something you would never stop cringing at, and sun seemed to give you an apologetic look before returning the greeting with the usual grin, hands still sliding a pancake onto your plate, “howdy there!! just in time for a sunny-patented breakfast, you are! and today, the pancake express is coming to town!! are you excited?!“

you sat yourself down at the table, that was more for decoration till you lugged the previously decayed animatronic in here one day, and laughed at his theatrics, “as always, buddy. who wouldn’t be excited for sunny’s patented breakfast?”

sun turned off the stove, lifting up the pan to place it on an unused burner while the other cooled, also picking up your plate of pancakes and placing them in front of you in one fluid motion, “good, you should be! it takes a lot of work to patent stuff, y’know?? especially a term as broad as “sunny’s breakfast”!! a nightmare really.”

he cupped a cheek that lacked any real dimension that he could actually cup in feigned exasperation, opening up the fridge to peek inside while you hummed, looking over your plate. the robot had lined orange slices along the edges of the stack of pancakes, cut up in neat slices, and it made you snicker at how stupid it was, “sunshine, do you want syrup, or something else?”

humming, you shrugged, reaching over for a fork, “syrup is good.. and some whipped cream, please.”

soon the items were placed in front of you, the animatronic sitting across from you as you spread each of them onto the pancakes, and then dug in. sun watched you with an idle smile, an elbow resting on the table to support the hand holding up his faceplate, with you stuffing your face for a solid five minutes before you spoke up after a swallow, “i swear sun, your cooking keeps getting better every day. these are scrumptious as fuck.”

if the robot could deadpan, he would, “you have a bad habit of swearing, friend. i am glad you liked them, though! you know what they say, practice makes perfect!! or well, perfect doesn’t really exist, since there’s always something you could improve. learning!!!! practice makes better!!!!”

you shoveled pancake down your throat, pausing to laugh at his exaggerated movements as he went on his tangent, “you will never stop me. and i agree, practice is good, and these pancakes are even good-er.”

he sighed something false, voice-box crackling at the edges of the sound while he plucked an orange from the plate and shoved it in your mouth, “you pain me, honeybunchkins.”

you cringed at the nickname while chewing, and the animatronic snickered as you took a moment of silence to chew before speaking up, “you’re one to talk, booboobear.”

another period of silence, only broken by the sounds of you chewing the last of your food before you cracked up, and sun followed. you banged a fist against the table only once before the animatronic slid his hand under it to soften the blow, pushing the plate that had rattled closer to the edge of the table back inwards. you shot him an apologetic look, and he only placed your fist gently on the table once more to run his fingers through your hair from where you had now rested your head on the table, chuckling still, “i don’t think we should start up that again. you remember how it ended, hm?”

your face grew warm, and you shot him a playful grin despite it, “yeah, but i don’t know if it was a win-win situation, or a lose-lose one.”

the sun put a proud hand to his chassis, beaming, “i believe we gained the upper hand in that instance!”

lifting your skull off the table, you squinted, and his hand left your head with a final pat, “well, i believe that this is just a roundabout way of calling me a loser.”

he swept your newly empty plate away to the kitchen sink, running it under warm water, “take it as you will, kittenwhiskers.”

you couldn’t contain a scream-cackle, “WHA- HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT SO CASUALLY?? AHAHAHHAHAH-“

sun didn’t really ever need help with the dishes, always uber-efficient as an animatronic should be, but you still took what little dishes he washed from the sink and to the dishwasher to dry. you weren’t sure why said animatronic never actually used the dishwasher for its intended purpose of washing dishes, but you didn’t care enough to ask, placing the last plate into the rack. he dried off his hands on a kitchen towel that hung on the oven door’s handle, turning back around to face you with a spin of his rays, “thank you, sunshine! ever the wonderful helper, you are!!”

you raised an eyebrow at him, wiping your own hands on your shirt, much to your roommate’s dismay, “you could’ve literally done that yourself, but sure, you’re welcome.”

the sun seemed to mostly ignore your comment, instead placing a hand on your back to gently push you out the kitchen, and more towards the couch once again, “yes, yes! now, i believe you need to do something, don’t you?”

a confused look overtook your face as he performed some elaborate magic trick to pull your phone from behind your ear, offering it to you so small in his outstretched palm, “huh?”

the animatronic leaned down a bit when you plucked the device from his grasp, the bottom of their faceplate bonking the top of your head, which put a smile on your face that slowly fell flat as sun spoke once again, “calling the doctor’s, remember?”

you made a face at the sleeping black screen in your hands, trudging over to flop onto the couch with a sigh while the sun followed, “oh, right.. but the gummies work fine, sun! i don’t need to call anyone!”

the robot sat crisscross on the floor in front of you, faceplate clicking to the right with an almost exasperated expression, “star, the gummies do not work. you wake up too soon for them to benefit much of anything. please.”

the nickname was something moon mainly used, and you looked back up at the animatronic, placing your phone in your lap. the nights where you couldn’t do much but stare into darkness for hours on end, occasionally strike up conversation with the bot keeping you company about whatever you thought of in the moment, blended together until you could barely recall what was when. you sighed, rubbing at your forehead, “fine.”

sun rays spun quick, the only warning before he basically tackled you, picking you up to spin you around with several bonks of his grin to your face, “hip hip hooray!! yippie!!! other celebratory exclamation!!!!”

snickers erupted from you, limbs clinging to find purchase despite knowing he wouldn’t just let you fall, “wh- okay, okay! it isn’t that big of a deal!! cool it, buddy!”

he sat himself on the couch, in the spot you were sitting just moments ago, keeping you put in his hold still while he grabbed your skull to keep you looking at his offended expression, “what do you mean “it isn’t a big deal”?! it’s a huge deal! i mean, this deal is ginormous!! humongous-!!”

sun paused at the deadpan of your squished face, his over-exaggerated expression breaking into amused laughter, “what i mean is…!”

you huffed as he paused again, seeming to search for the right way to word what he was trying to say, “what do you mean? it’s just medication. that i’m gonna have to talk to a person to get.”

the sun gave you vague finger guns while you adjusted to sit more comfortably, “exactly!! you’re making the effort to do all that to take care of yourself! good job!”

you squinted at him, but then simply resolved to lean your head on his chassis with a ‘thunk!’ that sun seemed to wince at, patting your back nonetheless, “sometimes it’s painful how cheery you are.”

he leaned over just a bit to nab your phone, that had been displaced somewhere further down on the couch in the display of celebration, and presented it to you once more, “it’s what you signed up for, friend! now…”

letting out a dramatic groan, you swiped it up from his hold to unlock it, already looking for the number of the clinic you were registered at, “evil.”

sun hummed as he rubbed at the skin under your eyes, grinning in amusement, “the most!”

[ moonkissed ]

#i laughed too hard at the nickname part #sundrop x reader #fnaf dca x reader #can you tell i have issues #sun x reader #sun x y/n

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libraryofgage · 11 months

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The whole thing was meant as a means for Eddie to walk straight into enemy territory without anyone else blinking an eye. And they were only doing that so Steve wouldn't have to walk into enemy territory alone. Unfortunately, a bard of Eddie's...reputation wouldn't exactly be welcome in a Duke's manor, but the esteemed, mysterious knight of the Crown Prince Steve Harrington currently touring the land prior to his coronation? Well, nobody is going to bat an eye in suspicion; though quite a few maids did bat their eyes in attempted seduction.

Unfortunately for them, Eddie couldn't tear his eyes away from Steve long enough to notice.

Crown Prince Steve.

His Royal Highness Steve.

His Stevie.

Not once in their six months traveling together had Steve ever let on that he was nobility, much less the blasted Crown Prince. Then again, they had both assumed their acquaintance wouldn't be lasting long, even when they grew closer and started actively looking for excuses to stick together. When some exhausted messenger had finally managed to find Steve with Eddie (three pints of mead in) at a run-down bar in the countryside, Eddie had discovered the perfect excuse and a rather big secret.

He'd also seen how nervous Steve looked, how absolutely desperate he'd seemed to apologize and pray Eddie wouldn't feel betrayed. Steve had been biting his lip, his fists clenched, his shoulders tensed, and Eddie...Eddie has never been a strong man. He's been resourceful, sure. And he's definitely been mischievous and cunning and joking and anything else.

But strong in willpower? No. Never. Especially not when faced with Steve's pretty...well, his pretty everything.

So he didn't get mad. In fact, he genuinely wasn't. Everyone has their secrets, and after knowing Steve, Eddie understands why he doesn't want anyone to know about the royalty thing. As much as Steve is good at acting and pretending, he's too easily weighed down by the work.

That much is evident when he collapses after they finally finish greeting Duchess Carol and enter their rooms.

"Is she always like that?" Eddie asks once the door is closed, thinking of the Duchess's insults that Eddie would have missed entirely if not for the subtle twitch in Steve's jaw. She'd made implications about Steve’s legitimacy and insulted a Marquise and quite bluntly asked whether Steve was finally tired of "living among uncouth common people" in the five minutes needed to accompany them to their rooms.

Steve has flopped face down on the large bed, his agreeing hum muffled by the softest sheets Eddie has ever fucking seen. His eyes light up, and he carefully sets the sword on his waist (Steve's, the one he painstakingly cares for and polishes and lent to Eddie to really sell the whole knight act; thank the First Realm that he didn't have to wear armor, too) onto the couch. He then walks over to the bed, smiling gleefully as he leaps into the space next to Steve.

His elbow jabs Steve in the ribs, their heads nearly knock together, and Eddie hears Steve laugh for the first time in days. It sends his heart racing with relief and joy and anxiety, and he wants Steve to keep laughing just like that. "You okay there, Stevie?" he asks.

After a few seconds, Steve turns his head to face Eddie, close enough that their noses are brushing and Eddie could count his eyelashes. "Probably not," he admits, "I hate all this stuff."

"All of it? I always thought living in a castle must be pretty nice."

Steve scoffs and turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling while Eddie can't bring himself to look away. "It's so...artificial. Nobody says what they mean, nobody means what they say, and if you don't keep up appearances, you're shunned."

"Who in the Five Realms is shunning the Crown Prince?"

Steve gets a slight smile but doesn't answer his question. "I'd rather be taking on another request with you than suffering through political navigation," he whispers, turning his head back to look at Eddie.

Every fiber of Eddie's being is begging him to take Steve's hand and just fucking run away. The Duke and Duchess and request from Steve's royal parents be damned, the pay-off be damned, and the incredibly soft sheets on the bed be damned. Nothing is worth the exhaustion already evident in his Stevie's eyes.

But he can't, so he just leans closer until their foreheads are pressing together, closer than they've been since hiding from gorgons in a narrow cave three weeks ago where they were chest-to-chest and waist-to-waist. Close enough that he can feel Steve's exhales brush against his lips and wonders not for the first time what Steve would taste like. Eddie's mouth suddenly feels dry, but he ignores it.

"I don't mind being here," he says softly, losing himself in Steve's eyes, drowning in the brown flecked with gold. "I'd walk into Hell if you were the one leading me by the hand, sweetheart."

It's maybe the closest Eddie has ever come to admitting...well, anything about his feelings. And it's fucking terrifying. His heart is racing, his back feels soaked in a cold sweat, his lungs can't quite fill with enough air, and he's frozen by Steve's widening eyes. But cowardice be damned along with everything else, he needs Steve to know he won't be alone, that someone is going to stay by his side no matter the place or the act he has to put on.

Before he can wonder if there's anything else he can say to make Steve feel better, he feels a soft, brief pressure against his lips. A few seconds pass after it's gone before he realizes two things. One: the Crown Prince, Steve, his Stevie kissed him. Two: it wasn't nearly long enough for Eddie to find out how he tastes, and that's unacceptable.

"Shit," Steve mutters, pushing himself up and preventing Eddie from actually conducting his official first foray into plundering his lips. "I'm sorry, Eds. I shouldn't have done that. I don't...you don't need to deal with...with all of this like that. I'm sorry."

Eddie frowns and pushes himself up as well. He then thinks for about two seconds before launching himself into Steve's lap, straddling his thighs, and holding Steve's face between his hands. Eddie forces him to look up, meeting those worried brown eyes and their anxious flecks of gold with a reassuring smile.

"Don't apologize, sweetheart. I'm only upset about one thing," he croons, leaning in closer until he can count the freckles peeking out from behind Steve's blush.

Steve swallows, and Eddie feels the way his jaw shifts with the action. "What, uh, what's that?" he asks, his voice strained and nearly cracking at the end.

And Eddie thinks it's a good thing he's not a knight after all. He'd suck at holding Steve so high above him that he's untouchable. Because Eddie is incapable of devotion to such a degree. His devotion takes the exact opposite form. He has to touch, has to feel, has to enjoy and cherish through sweet words and lingering kisses and warm cuddles during sleepy mornings.

"Well," Eddie says, moving to tuck a few strands of carefully styled hair behind Steve's ear, "it's actually more than one thing. You didn't kiss me long enough. You also didn't let me kiss you back before pulling away. And, worst of all, Stevie, you didn't even use your tongue!"

Steve blinks, and then he can't help laughing, trying to hold it back only to fail in a way Eddie absolutely adores. He dips down, kissing Steve before he can catch his breath, inhaling the last of his laughter and letting the taste of it, of Steve, of the joy of them together linger on his tongue and behind his teeth.

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Stranger Things fic #my writing #fantasy au #I was once again consumed by plot bunny lmao

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chloes-awfully-soft · 6 months

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Be warned horny tumblr users, incoming robot girl yuri smut. Contains some light consensual software manipulation. I’m new to this so go easy on me.

Stars

The twinkles of light reached her eyes through the three inch thick glass that made up the exterior windows of the shuttle. She sat completely still in her chair, silently observing the beauty of the universe, storing every image in her mission ready SSD to be extracted later and observed by astronomers back on earth. Her servos and joints spun softly to life as she got up from her seat. Taking a moment to stretch her artificial muscles and lubricate her artificial joints. She had been sitting for hours, and hours before that she’d been pacing aimlessly, before that, laying down. She was the only one out here, and now that she was on the back end of her mission, she had very little to do. It would only be few more days before re-entry, and she could finally get repairs, an oil bath maybe. She could see her girlfriend, the one who’d been taking up more and more of her ram the last couple days of being confined in the central cabin. The one who gave her such wonderful new software, those programs she’d make herself. The ones that limit her processing power, make her slow and submissive. Finally able to take a break from always thinking at such a high level because of her extremely highly rated processor. Silence, pleasure, love.

She snapped out of the incredibly vivid fantasy she was in and realized that she’d sat back down.

“How am I expected to get shit done around here!”

She threw herself from her chain and used every ounce of willpower she had to trudge to her computer terminal chair and once again take a seat. At least now it was a seat she could do her daily diagnostic in. She opened her computer and tapped her fingers impatiently on the desk as the terminal went through its laborious start up process. As soon as it was open she moved her mouse over to the shuttle functions display program, but before she could click something caught her eye. A message notification, on the closed NASA network? She thought to herself. She wasn’t supposed to receive anything until a day before re-entry. Cautiously she moved the mouse back across the screen to her messages and opened her inbox.

“oh fuck”

From: nasaacsesspoint800915 (err: no:location:notarized) errorcode-56-77-968104

To: shuttlepilot6100 (preferred name: Chip)

Hey chip,

I miss you so fucking much. I knew you were probably bored as hell up there since it’s the last week. I always get so sad when you talk about how depressed you are when your missions get to this point. So this time I bribed one of your co-workers into letting me into the system to send you something.

I, made something extra special to get you through, wish I could download it to you myself.

Love you, so much

yours forever,

Maggie

| attachment: 463mb. |

| :mags-program-for-chip: |

| -download- |

“I… I can’t I’m, on a mission, oh god I’m so bored though and I want it so bad.”

Chip squirmed restlessly in her chair, she knew it was highly unlikely that anyone would ever find out what she did if she chose to download whatever mag had made for her. Of course it was always fine to download whatever in her free time, but right now, she was the only person responsible for a billion dollar piece of equipment. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t…

she… she needed to, she had to, escape, stop thinking. Just for awhile

“Oh Maggie” she sighed.

Chip opened the USB stick hatch on her wrist and removed the small connector tethered to her body by a thin wire. She plugged it into the computer, a small flutter came over her. She selects the program mag sent her, sets the location to shuttlepilot6100 and clicks download.

“It feels nice, it’s, oh, oh it’s so good, it I mag I’m. I. Can I. An It’s over. I can

Relax

. . . . Ma. Gg ie. “

Thank you for reading. Please let me know if you liked it and would be interested in more of this from me in the future :3

#robotgirl #robot girl #lesbian #smut #t4t nsft #petpl4y #chloes writing #this too is yuri #yuri

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ellaspenfrosti · 1 year

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can ghost!reader possess people or animatronics?

Yes, they can!

It takes a while for them to realize this, however, and there are certain conditions that make it either harder or more difficult to maintain possession of a person or animatronic.

If a person or is not fully in their right mind (drunk, half asleep, out of it, or even paranoid) then it’s easier to possess them. For animatronics, the more complex and advanced the artificial intelligence is, the harder they are to possess. Not impossible, but it takes more energy and is harder to maintain. Causing paranoia or stress can make it easier, though they haven’t actually taken that measure since it feels wrong and y/n doesn’t want to cause their friends stress.

Unlike the children possessing animatronics or people in previous games where the eyes become black with white pinpricks, when y/n possesses someone the eyes turn milky white and the pupils/irises disappear. People and animatronics do not retain comprehensive or lucid memories of the time that they were possessed, describing it as ‘dreaming’ and struggling to understand where they are or what’s happening to them. An individual, with enough willpower, can break out of the possession.

They can also possess and move inanimate objects, but it’s much harder due to the lack of skeleton or structure to support movement.

One of the first times y/n uses this ability is to stop a parent from screaming at Sun and scaring the children in the daycare. It was effective, but Sunny wasn’t exactly happy about it/expressed how wrong it felt.

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miraculousfanworks · 1 year

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Fanfiction Prompt

Tikki: Okay, we've conducted our analysis, and we have some answers. Duusu: Adrien... you are not a Sentibeing. You were conceived naturally. Marinette: That's wonderful! Tikki: Now, you were subjected to a variety of hypnotic suggestions and behavioral therapy techniques designed to render you obedient to the wishes of your father, so that you would be a perfect little model and corporate asset well into adulthood, _and_ they put a microchip into your brain that releases chemicals that suppress your willpower to resist commands. Sort of like truth serum. There's a hidden button on the side of your father's ring that triggers their release. Marinette: stares Adrien: But I'm not an artificial being. Isn't that wonderful, Marinette?

Prompt by @dfcfanfics

#miraculous fanworks #miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous #mlb #writing prompt #prompt #miraculous prompt #ml prompt #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #duusu #angst #what...

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gofancyninjaworld · 10 months

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The short of it: Phoenixman was wrong

Wrong about there being a hard limit for cyborgs, that is:

It seemed to be refuted there and then, but since then, Genos has had no understanding of what he did.

Indeed, he's been frustrated that he's entirely dependent on artificial parts to do anything and doubts that it's truly strength.

It's been very exciting to see Nichirin, a man who keeps a telepathic sword that will merge with you if it likes the cut of your jib, say that there isn't a difference between living and non-living parts when it comes to drawing out strength.

Genos has two big problems. The first, and more obvious one is that that Genos believes that there's a hard limit. Even though he himself has shown it not to be true, he doesn't appreciate it. What'st troublesome is that he discounts the qualities he brings to make his actions possible. The courage, the determination, the resourcefulness, the willpower, and the sheer spirit he has don't come from a lab.

The second is Kuseno. If completely accepting your body as your own regardless of composition is the fundamental step to breaking your limits, then a guy who finds making you stronger, shinier cages a rewarding challenge is a problem. Where One-Punch Man differs a lot from regular shonen is that a lot of it is about people who have already achieved mastery (not just Saitama). People who are really good and have 'made it' are still looking for a source of challenge, and whether they deal with it positively or negatively is an important source of conflict in the story. Unfortunately for Genos, Kuseno is not exempt from this.

It's not that he wants to see Genos suffer, but damn does he love 'impossible' engineering challenges.

And Genos enthusiastically accepts any upgrades Kuseno offers. As long as he and Kuseno get along, there's no way he can break free. The quickest way to change his mind would be for him to see that Kuseno is part of what's holding him back and stop accepting upgrades. Unfortunately, there's no nice or easy way to do that. With any luck, they'll have a giant fight instead of murder.

Phoenixman may be wrong. But there's no easy road to transcendence.

#OPM #meta #Genos #the road to true strength is incredibly tough #Dr Kuseno #they're going to have to accept that they have different interests #and I'd rather they fought it out and came to a new understanding than Kuseno just gets taken away

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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 4 months

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Day 2: Solitary Confinement / Bruises

@febuwhump prompt: Solitary Confinement @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Bruises

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter Set after Season 1 Episode 14 'War Mantle' Word Count: ~690 Click here to read on AO3

Synopsis: After being captured on Daro, Hunter waits in the holding cell for Crosshair to come and confront him.

Hunter counted his breaths. He counted his heartbeat. He counted up to one-hundred, and back down again. Then he permitted himself to get up and pace the cell.

The ray shield door shone quietly the entire time, a background susurrus of electro-magnetism that thrummed against his enhanced senses. It was hard to tune out when there was nothing else to focus on.

He hadn't been here that long. He knew it logically. He had survived longer stints than this being alone.

Back to counting. Hunter's internal body clock wasn't as accurate as Tech's, and alone in the cell time moved strangely.

Taking a deep breath through his mouth, Hunter chased any information his enhanced senses would give him. The staleness of recycled air, so familiar aboard a spacecraft, was never as varied as planetary atmosphere. He could taste disinfectant, machine oil, and the distant musk of other humans. The last one was old, a scent so faint that he needed no other confirmation that he was the only occupant of the ship's containment cells.

Faint, but also layered with something familiar. Someone familiar. Hunter grit his teeth and wondered how long he would be made to wait.

Forcing his breath to a calm, steady cadence, Hunter reached out for what else he could sense. There was no movement of air, so he swung his arms to make the sleeves of his blacks to rub against his skin. The fabric brushed sleekly over the hairs on his arms, and he devoured the faint prickling sensation it produced. With effort he focused on the pull of artificial gravity on his body, feeling where it was strongest, imagining it as a tethering force that he was fighting against with every movement.

Another open-mouthed breath, and it sounded too loud in his ears, the only noise being created in this tiny cell that he could pinpoint with confidence instead of the continuous oppressive hum of an environment that was too static, too devoid of life, to keep him distracted.

This was worse than the jail cell on Kamino. At least then he’d had the others.

Hunter tried to summon his willpower and found it lacking. What was there instead was a lick of fear, cold and coiling and enough for the mere thought of it to send his heart-rate spiking.

Crosshair knew exactly what isolation would do to Hunter. Knew how it left Hunter's enhanced senses screaming for more information than his environment could give him. Knew a lack of input was just as distressing as the overstimulation that had him reeling at other times.

Crosshair, breaking him out of the sensory deprivation chamber.

Holding him as he trembled and howled as his senses were flooded with feeling.

Hunter needed his brothers, needed their presence to ground him. Wrecker's solid weight, radiating warmth. Tech's constant movement, quiet and reassuring. Echo's unique presence, his cybernetically enhanced body detectable by its EM signature as well as his other senses.

He needed them with him, needed to be able to sense them, to see them and smell them and listen to their breathing and their heartbeats and know they were well–

Crosshair, promising that he wouldn't let them experiment on Hunter like that ever again.

That they would never be separated again.

Hunter took a deep breath and returned to the small, hard cot, laying back and concentrating on the sensations it produced. The points of pressure along his body. The residual ache of the bruises from the fall. He wrapped his arms round himself, deliberately digging his fingertips into the tender marks on his ribs. It was unpleasant, but it was something.

He could survive this. Crosshair would be expecting solitary confinement to break him, and he wouldn't let it. He swallowed against the overwhelming emptiness that pulled at his senses and remembered why he was here. Why he had allowed himself to be captured – to give the others a chance to escape. To keep Omega safe.

His thoughts flashed to the girl, and now he found a core of anger to hold on to. The instinct to protect her burned strong.

He had to survive this.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday2 #solitary confinement #badthingshappenbingo #bruises #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb hunter #just_thoughts

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jimsandfruit · 10 months

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So, Markipliers mom now knows about the existence of my cyborg Yancy fanfic.

I'm losing my mind rn-

#the gallery #markiplier fanart #sam21s art #artificial willpower #cyborg yancy au #markiplier #markipler egos #yancy fanart #markiplier yancy #ahwm yancy

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catboydogma · 9 months

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making up for the angst i sent ermm anyone after the war ? but plot twist! no o66 ! :3

a light left on

artificial light - typhoon

send prompts!

notes: lol thank u for the reprieve + for the prompt; i hope u enjoy! i'm also doubling this one up with a prompt i got from @cybermanolo in the wastes server for sharing food + cooking for the other :)

wc: 707

Fox woke to the smell of coffee. It was hardwired into him at this point, he was pretty sure, along with the Kaminoans’ strategy modules and combat simulations. He stretched a little, reveling in the feeling of soft and clean sheets. There was no tall plank of muscled heat-sink next to him so he indulged further in the feeling of having warm fingers and toes. The scent of coffee—deep, rich, with notes of cocoa and cloves—grew stronger. He turned his head and opened his eyes to find a man kneeling over him.

No—that was his man kneeling over him.

Quinlan was balanced precariously on his knees with one hand braced against the wall to prop himself up. The other was holding a steaming mug full of coffee a half inch from Fox’s nose. He had somehow positioned himself in a manner that didn’t disturb Fox at all, limbs splayed to avoid waking Fox or sinking his weight into the mattress, head carefully tilted so his locs didn’t brush against Fox’s face.

Without saying a word or breaking his gaze from staring into Quinlan’s eyes, Fox tilted his head just the barest amount to slurp—noisily—from the mug. It was full, which made his task easier, and it was scalding, which made his task harder. There was an enormous amount of willpower he was employing to keep from spitting it back into the mug.

“How’s it taste?”

Fox swished the coffee—sweetened the barest hint with dark brown sugar, a splash of something nutty and rich, was that a hint of woodsmoke?—around his mouth so that when he swallowed, it only scalded his esophagus a little. “Not bad,” he finally said. “Could’ve used some more time brewing.”

“You asshole,” Quinlan said, a delighted grin creasing the corners of his mouth and eyes. “I go to all the trouble to get myself up here—”

“Which you did of your own free will,” Fox told him, but Quinlan kept going. He took the mug from Quinlan’s hand and pushed himself up to sitting in one fluid motion, bringing him close enough for a quick kiss on the mouth and a gentle Keldabe kiss to the forehead.

“—filtered it twice for your delicate little sensitive baby tongue—”

“The grounds make it overpowering,” Fox said into the mug as he took another long sip. Quinlan had outdone himself this time, even if Fox did think it could have spent a little more time in the pot.

“—lucky I didn’t dump the whole pot on you while—”

“The luckiest man in the GAR,” Fox said solemnly.

Mollified, Quinlan broke off mid-theatrics and sat back on his heels. He stole the mug from Fox, drained it, and clambered off their bed. “And don’t you forget it.”

Fox let the grin he’d been suppressing break free as he stretched, throwing off the sheets and climbing out of bed with a groan. A few hip-opening and knee-appeasing stretches later, he joined Quinlan in their kitchen to find him setting out a breakfast: the hard, smoked cheese Thire had gifted them the previous tenday from his latest batch of experimentation; a thin and clear soup with some kind of vegetable and fish base; the stone fruits Cody and Kenobi had dropped by with last night; more coffee.

“Obi’s green thumb is getting greener,” Quinlan said, pressing half a small, pulpy fruit to Fox’s lips and dripping its juice all over his chin without so much as a by-your-leave. He took it and bit Quinlan’s thumb for good measure; all Quinlan did was stick his thumb in his mouth to lick the juice off and wiggle his eyebrows at Fox.

“Think that’s Cody’s influence,” Fox said, reeling Quinlan in for another proper kiss.

“Oh, yeah?” Quinlan hummed and kissed Fox’s chin, the tip of his nose. “You think we could do better?”

“What is life for,” Fox drawled, “if not for one-upping Cody?”

Quinlan laughed, the sound rich and throaty. They ate sitting side by side at their table in their own quarters; no war meetings to attend, no Senate summons, no urgent missions to undertake. Only the space they shared and the life they had built together.

#vox #quinfox #quinlan vos #commander fox #the jedi temple #no order 66 #fanfiction #tcw #uhhhhhhhhhhh #coruscant guard #a heat rash in the shape of the show me state

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so-sures-blog · 1 year

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Detective Pixane AU

Summary: PIXAL Borg is one of the best detectives in Ninjago City. She can solve any crime, fight any bad guy, save every person. That is, until, the Sons of Garmadon grow right under her nose and she meets the flirty criminal Snake Jaguar. And he’s the type of criminal that breaks a career, not makes them.

Tags: Flirty Zane, BAMF PIXAL, Asshole-but-still-a-good-person Cryptor, Matchmaking Ninjas

Based off prompt from the-modern-typewriter

“Hello?”

Detective PIXAL perked up, turning away from the computer at the sound of the unfamiliar voice echoing through the empty police precinct.

PIXAL ran the voice through her memory banks and upon reaching a match she sighed and stood up, stretching her artificial joints before walking towards the entrance of the police station. “Yes? What is it you —” PIXAL’s smile dropped once she saw exactly who was at the front door. It wasn’t exactly the person themselves that made her pleasant smile fall, but rather what they were holding.

Right on the freshly waxed floors of the police station stood four of Ninjago’s greatest heroes, dressed in their brightly colored gi’s and holding a prisoner between them.

The Ninja looked extremely out of place, the Green Ninja’s feet shifting awkwardly and looking almost guilty while the Red Ninja merely crossed his arms. The Gray Ninja was holding the prisoner by the arm while the Blue Ninja stood a couple paces away, ready to zap him if he tried anything.

“Oh, hello, Ninja,” PIXAL settled on, because she didn't really know what to say. She kept her eyes fixed on the Green Ninja, steadfastly ignoring the prisoner gazing at her.

“Detective,” the Green Ninja nodded respectfully. “Sorry to bother you so late, but we recently apprehended one of the SOG members causing trouble while we were on patrol.”

“I understand,” PIXAL said. “Thank you again, Ninja. I’ll take care of the criminal.”

The Green Ninja nodded professionally and proceeded to shuffle out of precinct, looking more like an awkward teenager at his first school dance than the leader of an elite ninja task force. The rest of the Ninja bid their goodbyes, and soon it was just PIXAL and her newly acquired prisoner standing in the lobby.

PIXAL closed her eyes. 1… 2… 3

"You would think," Snake Jaguar said conversationally. "That dealing with all the hardened criminals on a day-to-day basis, your colleagues wouldn't be so afraid to pass me to you.” He smiled, blue eyes gleaming. “I am cuffed and harmless.”

"You,” PIXAL informed him flatly, “are the bane of my working life. And you are anything but harmless. Come. I need to revisit your file.” PIXAL grabbed his arm and dragged him to the interrogation room.

The precinct waiting room was empty apart from the two of them; it was late, with the Commissioner heading home and the rest of the officers calling it a night after they went over the reports the Ninja had deposited on of the most dangerous gang in Ninjago: The Sons of Garmadon. The Sons of Garmadon were a gang rising in prominence in Ninjago City. The threat levels were rising so quickly that the police force had grown concerned, and had to team up with Ninjago’s greatest protectors: The Ninja.

Now, PIXAL didn't mind the Ninja; they were vigilantes, but good people who risked their lives for others. They were a force to be reckoned with, going up against villains and winning with power, skill, and sheer willpower. They fought on when the police despaired but were still gracious enough to offer a hand and lend information to the police — even though it was clear that they could do more with the knowledge than the officers ever could.

What PIXAL did mind about them was how they kept bringing in a certain criminal to her, and how it was suddenly her job to extract information from him. Normally, PIXAL wouldn't mind this if it weren't for the fact that he was peculiarly flirtatious and always managed to escape the police after he had been apprehended.

PIXAL had tried to pass him off to her partner and half-brother, Cryptor, but he and Snake Jaguar had swiftly exploded into an argument that left both sides with more than a little animosity between the two. Not that PIXAL couldn't relate to Snake Jaguar’s bitterness — Cryptor was known to be antagonistic and temperamental. There was a reason she was partnered with him.

“Here we are,” PIXAL sighed as she reached the interrogation room and sat him down, still cuffed. The file slapped down on the table between them and she began flipping through his records.

Name: Unknown Alias: Snake Jaguar

Affiliation: The Sons of Garmadon

Allies: Rocky Dangerbuff, Mr. E, Ultra Violet, Killow, the Quiet One (?)

Profile: Criminal rose in the ranks of the gang after saving the life of SOG General Mr. E. He is a high-ranking member in the inner circle of the gang along with partner Rocky Dangerbuff. Information on the criminal before joining the Sons of Garmadon is unknown.

USE EXTREME CAUTION: Criminal is highly trained and able to escape the security measures

PIXAL frowned at the lack of information in the file. She tapped her fingers against the table, pursing her lips in focus. The portfolio of Snake Jaguar felt so vague, and left too many gaps. But PIXAL has seen him so frequently and she knew there was more to him. There was just so much going on, and so many open pieces of the puzzle. How can one know a person without truly knowing them?

"You look tired, detective," Snake Jaguar said softly. PIXAL broke out of her thoughts to see him watching her from across the table.

"Bane. Of. My. Working. Life."

“I could bribe someone to do the paperwork for you?”

PIXAL surprised herself by letting out a soft laugh, and through Snake Jaguar’s own surprise a pleased expression settled on his face. “Thank you, but I’ll do my own paperwork. You can help me by not committing crimes anymore.”

“Ah, but then how would I get an excuse to see you, detective?” Snake Jaguar teased back, at something inside her chest fluttered. Oh, she must be glitching again — that’s been happening more frequently while she’s questioning Snake Jaguar. She should probably check that out.

Before PIXAL can respond, there’s a screech of the door opening and Cryptor walked in. Quickly, PIXAL and Snake Jaguar straighten up, and to her horror she realized that she and Snake Jaguar had both been leaning towards each other from across the table.

"PIX, have you read the Ninja's reports from last week? It —" Cryptor stopped at the door, his red eyes flicking between PIXAL, who was promptly busying herself with paperwork, and Snake Jaguar, who was glaring right back at Cryptor.

PIXAL held her breath, waiting for the moment her brother would inevitably lose his cool and blow up …

“They dumped him back here again?” Cryptor scoffed derisively. He walked in, red eyes scoring across Snake Jaguar with contempt before turning to PIXAL. “As if the rest of us are equally equipped to deal with super villains. Bastards.”

PIXAL blinked. Well, that was unusually tame — for Cryptor’s standards, anyway. “We are nindroids, Cryptor. We are more than capable of taking care of gang members and lowlifes. I doubt the Ninja have found anything useful in their interrogation and handed him to us.”

“Leftovers,” Cryptor rolled his eyes. PIXAL shook her head. Unlike her, Cryptor was less fond of the Ninja — he had too much pride to ask for help and their partnership to take down the Sons of Garmadon more than aggravated him. PIXAL could understand where he was coming from, she supposed — this was the whole reason they were created. Cyrus Borg had only begun investing in AI when he saw how overwhelmed the police were with common crime.

While the Ninja were off defeating supervillains and saving the world, the police were struggling against common hoodlums. They didn’t even have any proper weapons! This was why PIXAL was created in the first place — her and Cryptor. They were made to assist, working with the police to create a safe place in Ninjago.

This was why Cryptor was so upset. The police had let the Sons of Garmadon — a simple biker gang — grow into power until they had to go asking the Ninja for help. They had failed their jobs, and now innocent people were at risk.

PIXAL shook her head again. Now was not the time to dwell on this.

“What was it you wanted to talk about, Cryptor?” She asked.

“It's about the Ninja,” he said, and his eyes flicked towards the prisoner. “I’ll tell you later, when you aren’t tied up with your … prisoner.”

PIXAL looked down, realizing for the first time that Snake Jaguar was still there, listening to the conversation intently. PIXAL felt a bolt of alarm. She had completely forgotten he was there. If he had heard something he could take back to his gang …

“Yes, that would make sense,” PIXAL nodded curtly. “Are you finished for the night?”

Cryptor nodded. “Unless you need help with that one?” He arched an eyebrow.

PIXAL shook her head. “No, that’s alright. I can handle him. I’ve done so before.”

Cryptor was already turning away and walking out the door. “Just don’t overwork yourself and stay up too late. You’ll just burn yourself out for tomorrow and be useless,” he said gruffly.

PIXAL shook her head, unable to hide the small smile against her lips. She knew he was concerned for her, in his uncouth way. “Goodnight, Cryptor.”

The nindroid slammed the door closed in response.

PIXAL turned towards Snake Jaguar to find his crystal blue eyes already upon her. A sense of almost anticipation swept through her, and it lingered throughout the entire room they were alone in. “You heard what he said. We’ve wasted enough time. Stand.”

Snake Jaguar stood from the chair he was sitting in during the exchange and walked towards her, hands cuffed from behind his back as PIXAL began thoroughly patting him down. Her hands traveled along the planes of his body, folding into leather and pockets and pulling out all matters of utensils to help him escape — anything could be a weapon. PIXAL could feel his eyes burning into her — bright blue orbs of knowledge that tracked her movements, drank in every detail of her; from the tips of her silver hair to the purple wirings on her cheeks to the green glow of her eyes.

PIXAL didn't turn to face the criminal. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking at me like that.” PIXAL tried to steel some authority in her voice. “You are beginning to get on my nerve circuits. Are you going to be staring at me the whole time?”

“Only if you continue to feel me up,” Snake Jaguar responded amusedly.

PIXAL cannot stop the indignant gasp at the shameless insinuation. “I am not feeling you up!” She glared fiercely.

“Oh no? This is the fourth time you’re feeling my chest,” Snake Jaguar’s eyes were very bright.

“One can never be too thorough when it comes to you,” PIXAL snapped back. She keeps her hands very professional as she searches his jacket pockets to come up empty.

Snake Jaguar let out an amused hum before falling silent. After a moment, he suddenly asked, “Who is he to you?”

“What?” PIXAL looks up from her searching at the sudden question. Snake Jaguar stares back at her, unusually serious.

“Your police partner, Cryptor. Who is he to you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. He seems to care about you a great deal. You seem close.” Snake Jaguar averted his eyes. “At least, as close to someone with his personality can be.”

PIXAL paused in her searching, turning up to stare at him. Her processors whirred, trying to come up with a reason why he would ask something like that out of nowhere. An idea came to the forefront of her mind and she smirked.

“Cryptor can be prickly, I’ll admit. But that just makes the moments he’s not all the more special. He is simply very serious about his job.”

“As are you!” Snake Jaguar retorted. “And yet you do not get as temperamental as him.”

“Cryptor is only tempermental because he is frustrated. He is passionate about his job and is very good at it.” PIXAL said calmly.

“It seems you care about him a great deal,” Snake Jaguar said icily. It suddenly felt as if the room had dropped several degrees in temperature.

“Indeed. Cryptor is my partner at the police force,” PIXAL said lightly. “And my half-brother.”

She felt Snake Jaguar stop at her words, and was grateful her face was turned away from him so he couldn’t see her smirk.

“Your half-brother?” He repeated.

“Yes, that’s what you call it, isn’t it?” PIXAL hummed, more focused on searching the criminal for any weapons than the conversation at hand. “Someone created from the same source, yet different? Cryptor and I were both made from Mr. Borg, but we are both different in ways that can only be discerned as being half-siblings.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not at all. Cryptor and I both love each other, in our own way. It is what it is.”

“Do you have any other siblings?” Snake Jaguar asked curiously.

This time PIXAL looked up, narrowing her bright green eyes suspiciously. “You seem awfully invested in knowing about my family, Snake Jaguar. Any reason I should know why?”

He quickly shook his head, and PIXAL found the action oddly endearing. “No! Not at all. I was just curious. I just …” he trailed off, looking frustrated. At himself, at the situation, or at her, she didn’t know. “I just want to get to know you.”

PIXAL blinked, surprised, and something strange glitched in her chest. She must be malfunctioning again. She looked down again to hide the small smile growing on her face as a pleasant feeling bloomed in her chest.

“I have a younger brother.”

Snake Jaguar looked surprised that she even answered, but soon a bright smile lit up on his face. “You do?”

PIXAL nodded. “Yes, shared between Cryptor and I. His name is Mindroid.”

“Why is he called that?”

PIXAL’s memory banks were suddenly flooded with the jokes Cryptor said once they met their honorary little brother for the first time, and she couldn’t quite hide the grin that grew on her face. “Because he’s short.”

Snake Jaguar barked out a laugh, and PIXAL could not help the amused giggles that escaped her as she remembers Mindroid’s enraged and indignant face whenever Cryptor would call him “half-pint” or “toaster” or “last out of the factory line and ran out of scrap metal”.

When their laughter finally faded, PIXAL looked up to see Snake Jaguar already watching her. His crystal blue eyes were bright as he looked at her, and his smile was soft.

“You are beautiful when you smile like that,” he said. PIXAL was taken aback with how gentle his voice sounded. How fond . “I’ve never met anyone quite like you. You’re amazing.”

Snake Jaguar hummed in acknowledgement, not taking his eyes of PIXAL as he let her step back to regain herself.

PIXAL cannot quite stop the small gasp that leaves her at that, staring up at him with wide eyes. "R-right." PIXAL’s voice processor must be damaged. She never stuttered. "I think you're all done."

No, that was absurd. Not let. He was cuffed. He had no weapons on his person and no key to escape. He may be a skilled fighter, but he was no ninja, nor Elemental Master.

A shiver went down PIXAL’s spine at the thought.

"Come along," the detective said. "You know how it goes by now."

"Indeed." The Snake Jaguar’s head tilted. "You know, there is a reason that the Ninja keep dropping me off on your shift instead of interrogating me themselves. You know that, right?"

PIXAL froze.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

The Green Ninja’s apologetic looks.

The Red Ninja’s flirty winks.

The Gray Ninja’s amused eyes.

The Blue Ninja's excited glances.

"Just something to think about," Snake Jaguar said cheerfully, then walked off in the direction of the cells. "Now, come lock me up."

PIXAL released a shaky breath and quickly hurried after him.

She was going to murder the Ninja.

#ninjago #ninjago au #ninjago fic #pixane #zane julien #pixal borg #ninjago cryptor

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fumifooms · 6 months

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The core of Fullmetal Alchemist: All is one and Dwarf in the flask

Dwarf in a bottle is in my top 5 favorite FMA characters. No, not Father, that emotionless bland white bread empty husk, Dwarf, the whole. The sort of ball of void, the existential anomaly, so inhumanely human full with sins and individuality.

Fullmetal Alchemist is about willpower. About determination, about pursuing your goals without relenting. It is also about humility and about knowledge.

That is reflected in both the protagonist and the villain, though it is a theme common in most characters. Both Edward and Dwarf in a bottle pursue their goals with great determination and will. Then, what is good with the manner of one and wrong with the other’s?

I believe a lot of it is about the very concept Dwarf symbolizes. Dwarf in the flask is artificiality.

An alchemy-made life. An artificial family. An artificial pursuit of knowledge and power, without caring about the journey of self-betterment that comes along with it, without caring to understand alchemy and its place in the world. Not only an artifical physical being, but also artificial emotionally; ripping apart his feelings and personality traits deemed negative to make himself into a “superior” being.

I think it’s also worth noting that yes, purging sins out of himself makes him lose those traits, even feelings. Then, if not greed, if not it all, what is pushing Father to pursue power? Greed said it himself: greed isn’t inherently bad, it’s the act of wanting. Father isn’t spiraling into a mad passion for alchemy, a pursuit of knowledge for innovation, or anything, he pursued his plan because he went through the motions, simply. As his feelings left him, all that stayed was the conviction without reasoning that since it was his plan before, he should see it to the end. Or perhaps it’s the course of action he logically came to. Perhaps alchemical enlightenment was deemed the obvious ultimate goal to have, without being interested in why it is or why it should be. Regardless, he lacks the passion and emotional intelligence to actually see the value in what he is doing, in alchemy, and ultimately that is what is punished.

I want to do a full dissection of the whole homunculus family, but I’m going to touch on some aspects of it here because it’s such an interesting topic to me. Disregarding Lust’s claim that homunculi are all individuals with a full range of emotions for a moment, I want to analyze what their traits mean in the angle that they fundamentally formed a whole all together as Father, or Dwarf in the flask. The homunculus that is shown to be the most attached to his family members is Gluttony. The homunculus that is shown to be the most attached to relationships, in general, is Greed. Greed and Gluttony are then the homunculi, the traits, that care about people the most. And that makes sense, no? You don’t want to lose things you care about, you want to bathe in their love and their presence, and you want to keep having them for as long as you want, greed and gluttony aren’t unsimilar. Greed is interested in friendship and having companions, in possessing people’s hearts and loyalties, in making new connections and bonding with new faces. Gluttony is more interested in getting more of what he already has, more love in that way he already likes by the person he already loves, like wanting more of the familiar taste of its favorite meal. Other similar traits are pride and envy, the traits that affect your self-image. The feeling that you are remarkable and great and the feeling of wanting what others have or are, valuing yourself vs comparing yourself to others. By detaching parts of a whole, things get lost; Pride feels wholly superior but is ready to do anything to preserve himself including lowering himself to inferior beings going against his own code, while Envy only covers up his self-hatred and jealousy but would rather end himself before accepting to sully himself with the compassion of someone he looks down upon. Pride makes one value self-preservation, while envy is self-destructive by nature, perhaps. It is interesting that both feel prideful, yet Pride doesn’t reflect the fact that as part of a whole it also felt shame and low self-esteem, otherized, and Envy doesn’t reflect that Dwarf actually feels pride over traits they possess, as well. The truth is that these things coexisted in the one being that was Dwarf. Fragmented as they are, they only tell an uncomplete and incoherent story, like a puzzle. It’s ironic that maybe together, all these sins balance each other out to become healthier, less dysfunctional. Like a family, they can offer counterbalance to a trait when it becomes too central to the individual, offer support through their grounding presence. Someone slothful may feel unmotivated without greed to give them goals, pride without envy will make you stop striving to better yourself and envy without pride will give you self-loathing.

An analysis of Dwarf isn’t complicated to do: it was a being brought about by scholars and complex alchemy, enslaved, and it wished to get the power to free itself and become an individual equal/superior to everyone else. Unable to become physically and fundamentally human, he attempted to become a proxy, close enough to it; making a family, gaining a human form, etc. It ultimately wished to pursue superiority through alchemical power and knowledge when he found the result lacking, when it still didn’t feel human, couldn’t connect with others, still felt fundamentally different, like his place in the universe was somewhere else, like striving for that higher calling would solve it. Blinded by lust to find belonging, wether it be in a place or in a role, it pushed itself to extremes of alchemy in the hope it will all make sense once he gets there. Ultimately futile, as he will end up feeling betrayed and abandoned by Truth itself, not able to rise up to its own expectations once more: because there’s no magic able to make one feel whole. He seeked to sculpt himself into a perfect being, one that could be anything and do anything, one that couldn’t be reproached, if not by humans, then the world itself would confirm and showcase his objective superiority for all to see.

Much like with Shou Tucker, this pursuit for knowledge and power is all for external factors, there is no inner fuel for it besides pride, shame, desperate want that was displaced onto alchemy instead of the self-introspection that alchemy promotes and necessitates. Dwarf ended up missing what was right under his nose, and subsequently failed the test of Truth and lost everything. What he was working towards ultimately meant nothing, not to anyone and not even to himself.

Edward was able to face Truth right because he took the time to understand, learned to not abuse it, reflected on what it all meant, on the place of things in the universe. That is terrifying for Dwarf, who is terrified he may simply have no place in it, but it is nonetheless essential. The other homunculi are proof enough: Greed had friends, was accepted in the friend group of our heroes as a trustworthy and dependable person, Ling would have preferred him to stay with him forever instead of leaving. Selim gets a second chance at life with someone who has loved him with all her heart… Which is the most confusing part of FMA I have no idea how he didn’t die ngl but I’m glad for the precious lil guy~ Even Lust and Gluttony found companionship and care in being together.

Dwarf has always had a place. He simply refused to philosophizes, and alchemists are ultimately philosophers. Not thinking power through, not analyzing it, is what leads to corrupt military states. Dwarf wanted to be recognized and accepted by god and the world itself, by showing himself worthy of it and demanding it, but he was the one who rejected the nature of the world first:

One is all, all is one.

He is the very embodiment of refusing that. Dwarf always had a place in the world, artificial anomaly as he was. Perhaps Dwarf wasn’t meant to be part of this all or this one initially, not created by the world, but. Dwarf seeked to become both all and none at once. He was born artificial, but never cared to learn the rules of nature and accept the limits of the world, seeking to destroy and warp them; he was the one that desired to make himself even more distinct from the world and label himself as a perfect, artificial being. Rejecting individuality to become some empty looking glass was the mistake Edward Elric didn’t make, growing to find the value in every type of life and finding the strength to keep going through every horror of the world. Dwarf’s folly was thinking that he was separate from the rest of existence.

The philosophical dimension to the value of gold or philosopher’s stones are the important part of alchemy, power isn’t what you achieve enlightenment through. May your pursuit of knowledge be wise and your resolve aim true.

–+–+–+–+–+–+–

I recommend this analysis by another tumblr user as complementary reading!! It goes over way more than I did and encompasses more of fma than this post, I just wanted to focus on a fraction of the themes and narrative that I found summed up the story’s key points well… Idk idk I’m a humble Dwarf enjoyer I don’t want to come across as pretentious 🙇 I can only hope this was a nice read. If you don’t remember the ending of the manga/brotherhood well I imagine this being very confusing, I should do something about that

#fullmetal alchemist #fmab #i might spice this post with screenshots and pics one day #dwarf in the flask #father fma #edward elric #Analysis #Homunculi fma #Envy fma #Pride fma #gluttony fma #greed fma #The lesson of Pride & Envy: If you only have Pride you’ll only remember that you love yourself #But you need Envy too to remind you that you… Hate others and yourself…?#Jkjk envy in a way represents humility when in a not so extreme condensed form but I found that funny #Spoilers #fma spoilers #It isn’t to say that Dwarf’s fragmenting is all bad though like we see with Greed.#As much as traits may balance each other out and as much as the homunculi clashed together sometimes in ways that impeded their progress #we saw how unhealthy of an individual dwarf in the flask already was before splitting itself.#With Greed we see that a tiny part of this all that’s itself part of a bigger all aka the world #can still be part of it and do the bettering and thinking needed to become someone with values #character analysis #Me watching Dwarf absorb god and tearing up bc it’s so tragic that he was fueled by a desperate want to belong and prove himself and #Bitterness and a sense of superiority #Tfw u a lil science experiment made by scholars who thinks that it is through research and pursuit of scientific and academic knowledge onl #That u can achieve anything completely missing the emotional or ethical dimension… Or like u know. Just like. Wondering if it’ll make u #Actually happy #What if trying to bring himself closer to smth like a human was just bc all the alchemical research and results are made by humans so he #Thinks it’ll up his chance bc the method was already tailored and scientific method and whatnot…

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wizardofrozz · 1 year

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"Cut the crap and tell me what happened." with Thorn

Aftermath

Commander Thorn x senator aid!reader (GN)

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: violence, mention of a bomb detonating, death (in the background)

A/N: I plan on forcing my love for Thorn and all the corries on all of you 😈 enjoy a little hurt/comfort before smut takes over my brain again lmao

The silence only lasted for a moment.

Then came the screaming. Voices calling for help, wails of pain, and shouts of names that you couldn’t comprehend right away. It felt like your head was going to cave in, a persistent ringing piercing through your skull even as you lay stationary. Opening your eyes was grueling and it took all of your willpower not to slam them shut at the blinding light overhead.

The last few minutes came back to you in pieces as you blinked at the artificial sky over Coruscant. You had been trailing behind your senator one minute, discussing dinner party plans with your fellow aid when suddenly everything went dark. Now, soot and smoke adhered to the inside of your lungs, leaving a burnt taste on your tongue as you struggled to sit up.

Your heart sank, the glow of burning debris reflecting in your eyes as you sat stunned. Bodies were strewn around the walkway, the few conscious beings attempting to offer help as the senate building burned in the background. You were so absorbed by the tragedy before you that you missed the thundering footsteps growing closer.

“Get a medic!” a familiar voice shouted. The volume of their voice had you scrambling away, your brain reeling until a red-winged helmet became clearer. Thorn.

“Thorn?” you croaked, blinking rapidly. His head turned in your direction, pausing briefly before continuing to scan the area only to snap back to you at lightning speed. Every visible muscle locked up and he stood frozen for a moment before he was weaving through the mess, dropping to his knees at your side.

“Stars,” he breathed, hands hovering near your shoulders as he scanned your body.

“Thorn,” you gasped, throwing your arms around his shoulders, nearly knocking him on his ass.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, muffin,” he whispered, restraining himself from squeezing you too hard. “What the hell happened?” You tried to recount the incident again, going rigid against his chest before leaning away with renewed desperation.

“The others,” you gasped, weakly trying to get out of Thorn’s grip.

“Woah, slow down,” he argued, grabbing your scrambling hands.

“We - we have to help them,” you snapped, trying to tug your hand free but Thorn held on.

“No, I need to make sure you’re not injured,” he sighed, attempting to pull you into his chest again, “and I need you to tell me what happened.”

“I’m fine,” you growled, turning your head to meet his endless visor. A small part of you wished you could see his face but at the same time, it was probably for the best that it was concealed. “There are people that need help more than I do.”

“Stop,” Thorn barked, the tone of his voice piercing you like a blade. You sent still, focusing on the faceplate of his helmet again. Thorn had always been so sweet, tender in his gestures and never raising his voice in any serious situation with you. This was different, he sounded harsh, commanding. He’s doing his job, you absently realized. “Cut the shit and tell me what happened.”

“I - I…we were leaving the senate building,” you stammered, the surge of adrenaline already starting to dissipate. Thorn’s grip on your wrists loosened and his gloved thumb lightly pressed on your thundering pulse. “It - it was a bomb. Someone bombed the senate building.”

“You’re doing great, muffin, what else,” Thorn urged, helping you into a sitting position. You were vaguely aware of one of his hands running over the length of your arms before a palm came up to rest against your cheek as you recounted all the details you could.

“I woke up here but I have no idea how long it’s been,” was what you finished with, looking down at the duracrete beneath your legs. If it wasn’t for Thorn’s steady grip, the tremors racking your body would’ve been more obvious. It was no surprise Thorn was the one to physically hold you together, something he seemed to be an expert at.

“Good job, cyare,” Thorn whispered, cautiously pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you.” The weight of the situation hit you like a speeder and suddenly you were clinging to Thorn, clawing at his backplate in an attempt to get closer. You hadn’t realized you were crying until Thorn’s soft hushing crackled through his helmet's vocoder.

“Sorry,” you sniffled, hiding your face against his shoulder.

“Look at me,” he whispered, gently tapping your back. You leaned away just enough to see the front of his helmet and a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding rushed past your lips when he pushed the helmet up enough to rest on the crown of his head. The stray curl that had flopped onto his forehead caught your attention until Thorn cradled your face and forced you to meet his shining eyes. “I can’t begin to explain how happy I am that you’re alive. Do you understand that I could’ve lost you?”

“I know,” you hiccuped, resting your hands over his. That’s when you saw it: the soul-shattering fear still lingering in his eyes. The realization that you were luckier than some of your colleagues made your chest ache. Thorn must’ve seen it because he tipped his head forward, bumping his forehead against yours with a shaky sigh.

“I love you so much,” he breathed, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “So if you could please sit still for five minutes and let a medic look over you, I’d appreciate it.” The laugh was hoarse and you almost didn’t recognize the sound as one from your own throat, but it did bring a smile to Thorn’s face. At least there was a bright side.

“I guess I can do that,” you managed to get out. You could still feel his smile when his lips met yours and you let him hold you together one more time.

Taglist: @a-single-tulip @techs-feral-wife @homie-one-kenobi @rain-on-kamino @rinwritesfics

#commander thorn #commander thorn x reader #commander thorn x you #star wars #the clone wars #coruscant guard

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