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bunny-yan · 1 year

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Cyborg!Yandere x GN!Reader

Thank you @slutforconan for responding to my sleeping post!

TW: language, violence, discrimination, implies drunk intimate relations, sin menores

—

You weren’t prejudiced.

Seriously, you weren’t. You’d had a number of experiences in life to teach you just how little differences there were between you and people who looked differently than you did. There were more cases of people who looked exactly like you and your lives were nothing alike.

At the end of the day you understood that others had their own set of struggles to deal with and so you tried to keep an open mind. Especially when everything in you wanted to deny it.

Sure, you hated kids but you had gained the right to look down on them after passing that insufferable age. Disliking the generation that came after you was a rite of passage that everyone would experience as far as you were concerned. And for all their wisdom was worth, older people could really grate on your nerves. You believed you should respect your elders, but when they used your inexperience of years on Earth to preach about how you were everything wrong with the world, you remained respectful by letting their “wisdom” go in one ear before traveling out of the other.

We get it. You’ve been here a long time.

So you were at odds with others. It was only natural considering how many varying opinions there were in the world. It didn’t mean you were prejudiced. If everyone got along, world peace would’ve long since been achieved and it hasn’t.

Especially after the Cyborg Program had been approved.

Imagine a world where machine and man became one.

It was as if bioengineers had reached into heaven to act as the goddess as more and more people became something akin to superhumans.

Super strength, speed, power, intelligence, all achievable if you decided to enter the government’s special program. They’d replace your organs with technology, injecting nanobots into your bloodstream to slowly acclimate your system so it could handle the rapid upgrades it was receiving. They made it possible to leap over buildings, lift objects that weighed tons, run long distances in the blink of an eye, and calculate complex equations as fast as a computer could.

It was the evolution of human beings. The beginning of a new era.

A violent one.

More people were against the new age of man than you expected. Protests outside of organizations that modified the human body or produced the technology used for it happened almost everyday.

While some believed it to be a mockery against the goddess, others didn’t like the idea of androids “stealing” jobs meant for “humans.” An cyborg with super strength could replace twenty workers and that meant twenty workers would have to look for work elsewhere. Though one needed a permit that was difficult to acquire and special permission from the government to hire an android, it was a prominent fear nonetheless.

Things got heated to the point where you couldn’t walk outside with modifications on your body without being assaulted in some way.

A nasty barrage of insults hurled from across the street, mixing in words like “robot” were common. It was considered a slur against androids as it implied they weren’t human, but to the unmodified they weren’t.

Many debated what made a human being, be it a beating heart, the ability to feel and express emotion, or a soul, but an answer was never found and the flames were only fanned when cyborgs decided to retaliate after being subjected to unfair treatment.

They were labeled violent, monsters that had an insatiable desire to kill the moment they got the chance. Despite the fact that human on human crime had a much higher rate than android on human violence could ever have, they passed the undefinable line as other.

Tensions were high, but the dam was broken when a group of humans attacked an android that tried their best not to fight back for fear of hurting them, but the surge of malice exploded after the android’s arm was torn off and plastered to a modification center’s walls.

Riots erupted across cities, cars and buildings became collateral in the battle of human versus android, a battle that wouldn’t have lasted long if the androids truly intended to kill the humans that persecuted them, but it didn’t last.

The government deployed troops to stop the riots, declaring martial law and forcing citizens to stay in their homes until they could figure out a way to contain the escalating situation.

Their solution, placing cyborgs as helpers in neighborhoods and intensifying the punishment for violence used against cyborgs. The goal was to create a delicate peace as people were consistently exposed to androids in a positive manner, really selling that “Cyborgs are human too!” mindset.

As dumb as it initially sounded, you couldn’t deny that it definitely worked. You could go outside without fear that you’d stumble upon an ongoing battle on your way to work. It was common sense to avoid the sounds of gun shots and screaming, but you’d had the misfortune of parking near conflicts once or twice.

Now you could travel to your car in peace. It wasn’t uncomfortable being outside, but it did make you nervous when he would visit to see if you needed help with anything.

He’d been introduced to the tenants on your floor as the cyborg that was apart of the integration program.

You didn’t see how anyone could be at ease with that intense scowl he always wore. You saw it so often that you figured he’d greeted the doctor with that exact face at his birth. He was dark, broody, and you couldn’t help but admit handsome. It made you wonder if some of the androids had decided to get plastic surgery along with the other body modifications because it felt like a sin for someone to be as hot as he was.

He was eye candy that you couldn’t help but stare at, but it made you nervous to do so when it was just the two of you alone together in your small apartment.

Though you insisted that you didn’t really need anything, he went around fixing things as he pleased like a handyman. The squeaky door, the cracked tiles in the bathroom and kitchen, dusty furniture, dingy carpet, leaking roof, flickering lights. Your apartment sounded like something straight out of a horror movie, but you’d been busy with work and the landlord had been promising to see about your issues for the last couple of months so you wouldn’t be accepting any criticism.

You’d thank him and he’d respond with a small nod. When making dinner, you’d ask if he wanted anything and he’d always respond that he was fine.

After the first couple of weeks, you forced him to sit at the table with you. Not only did you feel extremely rude to eat while he stood like a weird loner in the corner of your apartment, it was awkward and you refused to leave things the way they were if this was going to be an ongoing relationship.

It didn’t take much prodding. For all of his ominous brooding, he was a pretty agreeable guy. You’d begin to get excited whenever he’d come to visit you. His time would be spent watching a movie with you instead of cleaning or talking together as you taught him to cook some simple dishes. Apparently cyborgs didn’t need to eat often, but it was still an enjoyable experience if they kept their taste receptors, which he did. You found out in one of your conversations that he was a pretty avid drinker and after a night of questionable decisions and more drinks than you could remember, you woke up with him in your bed.

Naked.

Initially you freaked out, feeling that this was going to ruin the relationship that you’d built by making it awkward whenever he came by, but if you were telling the truth, you remembered everything that happened. You’d come onto him and he allowed it to happen.

It was truly an unforgettable experience.

You couldn’t really think of a downside to allowing this to happen if you were both up for it. He was handsome, a great conversationalist when he wasn’t brooding, and you’d learned he was breathtaking in bed.

Literally.

He was your breathtakingly brooding cyborg boyfriend. Or, boyfriend rather since being an cyborg was a secondary characteristic of his identity that had no real impact on your relationship other than the whispers and side eyes the two of you would receive if you ever went out together on dates.

Which, unfortunately, didn’t happen often.

You asked him why he didn’t take you out more and he claimed it was because he could tell that you were uncomfortable with receiving so much negative attention. He didn’t want to be a stressor in your relationship and claimed he’d much prefer hanging out at your apartment.

It was sweet. You couldn’t deny that he was being very thoughtful, but that excuse got old after a while. You tried to explain to him that you’d have to get used to it eventually. Unless the two of your broke up and you decided to date a regular guy, not that he wasn’t a regular guy just a modified guy and nothing was wrong with that, the attention you received wouldn’t change.

His eyes got dark at the mention of you dating someone else, brooding as he seemed to think over your words. You thought that it was cute, but you were even happier because it seemed as if you got through to him.

You were wrong.

The insufferable bastard would follow you to your car, making you sit in the passenger seat as he drove you to work. Sweet, sure, until he’d only allow you to travel by car when he accompanied you. Not only did he not bother taking you out on dates, he also refused to let you accompany him to do simple things like shopping at the grocery store. He even confiscated your keys to make sure you couldn’t go anywhere on your own. If you wanted to be obstinate you could walk, but you weren’t stupid. You were aware of the possible dangers you faced in your neighborhood considering it wasn’t the safest place.

You were beginning to get angry. To tell the truth, you were past the point of anger. You were seething with rage, but your lid only burst after he attempted to change the locks on your apartment door so you couldn’t go anywhere while he was assisting the other tenants.

The two of you got into an argument that shook the thin walls.

He claimed he was only trying to protect you and you yelled that he was going overboard. He’d crossed serious lines and you felt he was suffocating you in your own apartment.

You tried to get him to see your side, but he was steadfast in his belief that he had done nothing wrong. You couldn’t remain calm. You were a ball of pure rage after he called you inconsiderate. All you saw was red as you yelled at him to get out. You told him that you didn’t want to see his face, that everything between the two of you was over.

He’d stood there for a moment, shocked at your words, but he left nonetheless.

You slammed the door behind him, locking it and shaking as you told yourself not to cry. It didn’t matter that you had ended your relationship. It wasn’t good for you.

He was pig headed and controlling and you didn’t care that you would no longer be able to cuddle up to him during a bad movie that the two of you would make fun of. He wouldn’t hold you and softly proclaim his love or say sappy things that you didn’t imagine he was capable of. You’d no longer get to ask him about what it was like to be a modified human being and he would no longer tell you he was happy that he kept his touch sensors because he liked your warmth and the feel of you against his skin.

You hated that it felt like your heart was trying to claw it’s way out of your chest. So you did what you normally did when you were faced with a pressing issue. You drowned yourself in blankets and fell asleep.

You couldn’t tell how long it’d been, falling asleep rather quickly due to your overwhelming mixed emotions that your brain was exhausted from handling, but you’d woken up when you felt an arm wrap itself around your waist.

You looked out into the dark in alarm, but your body eased instinctively when you heard his voice say that he missed you so much he couldn’t sleep as he pulled you into his embrace.

You wanted to call him a liar. You knew he didn’t really need to sleep often. It was a part of his modifications. The nights you spent together, he held you as you slept, listening and waiting for your breathing to even out. He once told you that the sight of your sleeping face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

You frowned, feeling unsure, but you closed your eyes as you leaned closer to him. You could argue with him in the morning.

For now, you were just grateful that he was by your side. You didn’t want to admit it, but your bed felt empty without him.

#male yandere #protective #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #thanks again!#yandere cyborg #cybrog yandere x gn reader

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zhukzucraft · 3 months

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Hi I absolutely love your banner!!!! Did you make it yourself ?

thank you!!! and yeah i did (well except for "Etho" haha)

it's a mess but it was fun to try out all the different artstyles

i fully drew everyone in the back row too, even tho they're mostly covered up. So i plan to post them as separate pieces whenever i go too long w/o drawing something new

#and the next one might be tomorrow..... we'll see #thanks again!#ask

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adrift-in-thyme · 5 months

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Congrats on the follower milestone, Trin!! For the lil fanfic suggestions, how about Sky and Warriors bonding? I do love how you write emotional hurt/comfort, and it would be cool if Wars were the one comforting, but these are all just suggestions! No worries if you don't feel inspiration from this prompt :) Hope you're having a good day!

Tysm @unclemoriarty !! And thanks for the prompt! I love writing Wars and Sky, especially when it’s angsty ;) I hope you like what I came up with!

No warnings, just some angst

———————-

Sky brushes a hand roughly across his eyes, trying to do away with the moisture there. He doesn’t deserve to cry. Not after everything. But the Shadow’s words still echo in his mind, a sentence he never wanted to shoulder.

…and yet has for years now.

“Have you told them yet?” Crimson eyes gleam in his mind’s eye. Cool metal presses against his neck. “Have you told them that you are responsible for all their pain?

“Tell me, hero, have you informed them of the curse you allowed to take root in your souls?”

Seeing their faces had been the worst of it. Worse than the wounds the Shadow had inflicted, worse than the fear and pain. They had looked at him, questioning, confused, and all he could do in the aftermath was spew a choked explanation full of excuses.

“I should’ve stabbed him right then and there. I shouldn’t have given him the mercy of another moment of life.” That is what it really comes down to. His foolish belief that he had won, that he could spare the fading god a few more seconds to breathe his last.

Decency and morality are things he clings to. They’re what make him a hero. He has no plans to release them now. But…

He gazes out into the dim light of a cloudy day, wincing as even that much brightness assaults his aching eyes.

But in this moment he is beginning to think his decision was more pride than anything else. Or…perhaps it was just exhaustion. A yearning for it all to be over so he could go collapse in his friends’ waiting arms, safe at last.

It doesn’t matter either way. The point is that he failed. And now others must shoulder the repercussions of that failure.

“Hey, Sky.”

He jolts abruptly out of his thoughts, breath hitching. In an instant, he is on his feet. But it is only the captain standing there, looking a bit damp from the drizzling rain.

“Sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Sky shakes his head, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“It’s fine.”

He turns away, flopping defeatedly back down onto the ground. If Warriors knows it for the sign Sky means it to be, he doesn’t indicate as much. Instead, he comes to sit down beside him.

“It’s not a very pleasant day today, is it?”

Sky doesn’t answer, but he can feel the captain’s eyes on him, searching, questioning, perhaps even judging. He fights not to crumble before their scrutiny.

“No,” he croaks, finally, “it’s not.”

Warriors has turned now to gaze out into the endless gray. Sky still feels exposed, raw. Suddenly, he has the distinct yearning to claw out of his own skin.

For another agonizing thread of minutes it is quiet. Then, Warriors speaks, his voice soft.

“We aren’t angry at you, Sky.”

Sky looks down at his boots and doesn’t reply. The silence is agonizing, but speaking is far worse.

Warriors allows it for a short while more.

“Did I ever tell you how the War of Ages began?” He says, finally, still soft, far softer than the captain usually sounds.

Sky shakes his head. Warriors chuckles, short and bitter.

“I figured as much. Well, you should know…it started because of me.”

Sky’s eyes widen slightly. He turns to Warriors, but the captain is facing away still, expression carefully guarded.

“A woman named Cia became obsessed with me without me even knowing it. She attacked Hyrule to get what she wanted. I wouldn’t give in — and neither would anyone else — and in the end we defeated her. But to get there, to obtain a victory…”

He ducks his head, that hollow chuckle ringing out again. It tears Sky’s heart in two.

“It’s what it means to be a hero, Sky,” he murmurs. “To lose, to fail, if only to succeed in the end. We carry heavy burdens — every single one of us.”

Finally, he turns to Sky, a sad smile on his lips. Gently, he puts a hand on Sky's shoulder.

“But if we stick together we’ll be alright. Trust me.”

Sky swallows hard. Tears still pick at his eyes and the lump in his throat warns of the sobs that are still to come. Far away he can make out a dark haze amongst all the gray — rain approaching fast. He watches it through blurred eyes.

“I’m sorry about the war,” he says, quietly. It’s not enough — he knows it isn’t. What can he say to wash away Warriors’ guilt, his pain?

“Not your fault. And I didn’t tell you to gain your pity. I told you because I wanted you to know that I understand. And I know the others do too.” His arm is around Sky now, drawing him in, nudging away his barriers. “That’s why we don’t blame you. Why would we when we all bear our own guilt?”

Sky inhales shakily. The rain is even closer now. They will likely be soaked soon. But with Warriors warm and steady beside him, he can’t bring himself to care.

He doesn’t deserve this comfort. The war that had made Warriors a hero wouldn’t have even happened without his failure, after all. Yet, he feels incapable of pulling away.

“I’m sorry anyway,” he murmurs, thickly, because words are all he has to offer. “Even if you don’t blame me for the curse…I’m sorry.”

Warriors doesn’t reply. But he coaxes Sky closer until the Skyloftian is resting on his shoulder. And when the rain comes pouring down and Sky shatters beneath it, Warriors holds him tightly while he sobs.

#thanks again!#I saw your other prompt too #it’s really good #I’m gonna save it for later #reyna my beloved #trin writes #asks #trin answers #follower celebration #linked universe #lu warriors #lu sky #emotional hurt/comfort #linked universe fic

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purplemang0z · 10 months

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Art trade with @hey-imma-fangirl

I love them so much it's not even funny. 💖💖

I hope you like it bud! Thanks for the art!

#super maria sisters #cute #art #digital art on tumblr #not my character #not my design #bowuigi #genderbend au #Art trade #thanks again!

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coraniaid · 7 months

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Buffy for the character asks?

General opinion/how much I care about them: What can I say about Buffy Summers? When she was fifteen years old a representative of an ancient mystical order told her that she alone had the power to stop bad things from happening in the world, thereby confirming something she had hitherto only strongly suspected. She had to keep a fundamental part of her life secret from the world for years but she never learned how to tell a convincing lie because she was too busy thinking up puns. She had a 95th percentile SAT score despite mostly studying in between fighting vampires in a cemetery every night and cutting classes to sneak out of school and fight yet more vampires during the day. All her favorite teachers died or never noticed she existed. She is both a quintessential only child and somebody who would fight a god to save her annoying little sister. She blackmailed the management of a fast food chain so that they would let her keep doing a minimum wage job she hated with co-workers whose last names she can’t remember. She burned down her old high school gym and blamed it on mice and blew up her new high school library while she was at her graduation ceremony and she sunk her hometown into a giant hole in the desert and drove away in a school bus. She died twice before she turned twenty-one. She is one of my favorite fictional characters in any medium.

A ship I love: I didn’t really talk about why I love Fuffy in my Faith answer, so let me try now.

Of all of Buffy’s shadow selves, Faith is the one who spends the most time actually in her shadow. She doesn’t get later character development that takes her in a different direction and makes her her own person; she didn’t start out as something else entirely and get reworked later when the plot required it. She doesn’t even get the illusion of a family and moments of happiness, like Drusilla has in Season 2. When Faith’s not hanging out with Buffy she’s sitting alone in her motel room or lying in a coma or counting down the months in jail. She exists to be a version of Buffy who is not Buffy, who is worse than Buffy, who doesn’t have friends or family or any external support. That’s really all she is. And she knows it. And she hates it. How could she not? “You get the Watcher, you get the Mom, you get the little Scooby gang … what do I get?”

Because Faith is Buffy – the part of Buffy who never came back after she ran away from home and got kicked out of school; the part who can admit to craving a little more than low-fat yogurt after a night patrolling; the part that never got to make friends with Xander and Willow in Season 1 and never had a Watcher who cared about her – so on a fundamental level Fuffy is about Buffy accepting those suppressed and hidden angry parts of herself. But it’s also about Faith accepting the forgotten and ignored parts of herself that are present in Buffy: the idea that she can be a hero, that there are people in the world who care about her, that there are people who she can trust. It’s about asking what if all of the Season 3 subtext – Faith’s whole arc this season paralleling Angel’s a year ago, and “what are friends for?” and “It’s kind of a Slayer thing”, and Joyce marching in the Slayer Pride Parade – was text, and what if the show existed in a world where the characters could act on it?

And because of how Season 3 turns out, it’s also about Buffy and Faith forgiving themselves, and each other, for doing almost unforgivable things to each other. Because there were never meant to be two of them, and they’ve never been able to tell each other what they mean, and because “kill me, you become me”, but she tried and it didn’t help. And it’s about crappy presents and knives to the throat and forehead kisses and shared dreams and hopelessly entangled destinies. It’s ”She could be terrified. Maybe [...] she’s sorry and she’s alone” and “You think you matter, you think you’re a part of something, and then you get dumped” and “All my life there was one person who tried to be my friend” and “I tried so hard to help you and you spat on me” and “Willow said you needed me. Didn’t really give it much thought.”

As much as I wish Faith was in Season 7 more, part of me is glad that this is all we got, because I really don’t think the show could ever have done all this justice. And the little we get is enough to make me a bit crazy.

A non-romantic relationship that I love: I already talked about Buffy and Willow, so I will try to subvert expectations a little here and go with Buffy and Giles. Not the fandom version of their relationship I like to complain about where Giles is an uncomplicated Good Dad, but the messy and complicated and heartbreaking version where he just won’t allow himself to be that person.

I mean, I think it’s very clear from the show that Giles really does care about Buffy far beyond the extent he is supposed to as a Watcher (he tries to go and fight the Master in her place! Even though he knows it would kill him! Even though this is Season 1 of the show and we’ve not yet seen Giles fight a single vampire!) but that everything about his training and his past tells him that he shouldn’t. Buffy cares about Giles a lot (“You can’t leave me, I can’t do this alone” / “it’s a little like having Mom back”) and it’s clear that she would really like Giles to be more involved in her life (she wants her Mom to invite him around for Christmas, she goes to his house for Thanksgiving, she tries so hard not to show how hurt she is when she confuses his attempts to be dispassionate with genuine disinterest) but Giles is convinced that he cannot be that sort of parental figure for Buffy and it would only hurt her if he tried, and so – by purposely distancing himself from her and not letting her get close to him– he ends up hurting her in exactly the way he fears.

And the tragedy is that I think Giles really does believe the line he keeps feeding Buffy about how important it is not to be “distracted” by “personal concerns”. When Quentin Travers told him he had “a father’s love” for Buffy, Travers meant it as a rebuke – and that’s exactly how Giles takes it. He thinks getting closer to Buffy would be bad for her! He thinks by leaving her in Season 6 he is helping her become self-reliant and a better Slayer! Of course he is wrong, but that’s what he thinks, and it is consistent with how he’s always thought. It’s not character assassination or some unjust subversion of his previously established personality: it is a natural and predictable and awful thing for him to do. And he does it because he cares about her and doesn’t know what to do about that! He thinks she’s a much better person than he is (“she’s a hero, you see. She’s not like us”) and he doesn’t want to bring her down to his level! “If you care so much about [these people], why didn’t you leave town?” Ethan asked him in The Dark Age, and Giles didn’t have an answer!

The NOTP: Going to cheat a bit here (honestly, mostly because it feels a bit mean to keep picking on Xander at this point), and say that the ship I don’t like isn’t with a specific person but rather with an idea that I see applied to all sorts of ships. Namely the idea – not supported at all by the text – that Buffy’s various romantic interests are Good People who teach Buffy important life lessons and make her a better person or protect her from the dangerous world around her. I mean, sorry, but this is not how it works! This is a boring fantasy you have projected onto the show in place of what it was actually telling you. The feminism of BtVS is paper-thin, but give it some credit!

In canon, Buffy absolutely does not learn from her boyfriends. She does not rely on them for emotional support. They all cause her more problems than they help her. She rescues them. She makes them better. Honestly her boyfriends all kind of suck. Because that’s her type! She likes losers with no friends who are kind of obsessed about Buffy Summers! (Losers just like Faith!)

Buffy textually hates it when Angel talks down to her: we see repeatedly how furious she gets when he treats her “like a kid” or makes important decisions about their relationship on her behalf. She doesn't mind physically upstaging Riley (“I was holding back a little”) and secretly likes it when he gets hurt because, to quote Dawn, “she says you look even cuter when you’re all weak and kitteny”. The iconic twin shots of Spike and Buffy in The Gift and After Life are deliberately staged so that Spike is looking up the stairs at Buffy and she is looking down at him (“you’re beneath me”, as she told him in Fool For Love). And as she says later in Conversations With Dead People: “Their opinions don’t matter. They don’t know. They haven’t been through what I’ve been through [...] I feel like I’m better than them. Superior.”

So, you know, the preferred power balance is pretty explicit here! I don’t think the show is being excessively subtle. And yet people keep insisting that, oh no, Buffy learns a lot from her boyfriends, or that she can’t possibly cope without their support, or writing fanfics where they swoop in to town to rescue Buffy from trouble. But that is not who Buffy is! She is not some unsophisticated naif or damsel in distress. She would hate that so much! Ship Buffy with whoever you want, but let her be Buffy!

… but also, yeah, rewatching the second season really reminded me how awful I’d have found Buffy/Xander and how glad I am that the show stops hinting at that after Becoming. Sorry, Xander. You can take solace in being … well, a loser with friends?

My biggest headcanon about them: Some time after Chosen Buffy definitely goes back to college and gets that English degree she deserves. I don’t want to think about Buffy living in a gloomy castle in Scotland and still being forever isolated from the world or about her becoming a cop with superpowers or whatever other nonsense the comics insist happens to her after the show ends. I want her to be able to have some time off and read some poetry and make Willow jealous academically.

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: One day I will finish my Season 7 rewrite in which Drusilla is the Big Bad and Faith gets broken out of prison earlier and Amy and Willow get to have a proper resolution and Kennedy is another Slayer from the start and Marcie and Ethan come back for cameos and people remember that Jesse and Kendra ever existed and Dawn actually gets something to do. But first I will probably have to start writing it.

Something that makes me think of them: Nothing makes me think of Buffy. I choose to be like this (for some reason).

#btvs #buffy summers #asks #thanks again!

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