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#cybernetic eye
arborealkey · 10 months
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I guess 6 eyes are better than 2.
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Cyber Bounty Hunter
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kausparty · 4 months
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drew this after watching the fnaf movie and promptly forgot about it till just now
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hazelnutnebula · 4 months
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🌸💾 and she had the bubblegum hair with the angelic flair
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roguetoo · 5 months
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medi-bee · 8 months
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These are the guys who have total martial control over the center of the galaxy? are you sure?
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mikael-darkan · 7 months
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taeetimee · 11 months
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WHERE'S YOUR HEAD AT
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ethosiab · 21 days
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Redshtone eye
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rayofsvn · 3 months
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Emorty so cool
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slashesotron · 11 months
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Patchouli bout to smash Nine wake UP bitch ❤
Another one from before this under the cut (feat. Six as well)
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horygory · 19 days
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The Peripheral (2022)
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idol--hands · 9 months
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Lore: “Where is this? Where’s Data?”
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elavoria · 3 months
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Beres, @1helios1’s technomage, in their Starfield incarnation!
Lines under the cut~
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cyberegypt · 1 month
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Cyberpunk Aesthetic + Ancient Egypt = Robotic Sphinx
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dogmatik · 3 months
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Under a readmore, word count 897. Rick got too drunk and freaked poor Morty out.
There's something cold and wet pressed to Ricks forehead. He's only been conscious about a minute, hasn't quite figured out where he is yet, so his eyes remain closed. He takes in his surroundings with his other senses, not sure if he wants anyone who might be in the room with him to know he's awake yet. After some time he determines he's in his own room, can tell by the canvas texture of the cot below him, the smell of booze and alien B.O. He's bundled up in the shitty military surplus blanket he got ages ago, and its dark.
There's breathing to his right, someone sat next to the cot on the floor. he cracks an eye open, the augmentations he keeps tweaking adjusting his sight to the dark immediately (it hurts, human pupils aren't meant to dilate that quickly, he's got a mean case of chronic dry-eye that he hasn't quite figured out how to handle yet.). Morty sits with his arms folded over his knees, head bowed like he's sleeping sitting up. He's breathing to hard to be sleeping though, and there's a string of little sniffles on every other inhale.
"Morty, you seen that morphine? Grandpa's got a killer headache." Rick says. Morty startles, head whipping up immediately at the sound of the old mans voice. Rick regrets talking when he sees the poor kids face, it's red, a little string of snot connects his nose to where it was pressed into his sleeve. "Rick!" he yells, sending a flash of pain bouncing behind Ricks eyes. He throws himself over the old man, the cot creaks like its about to snap. "Jesus M-Morty chill out, I just said I had a fucking, headache." Morty squeezes him, he can feel hot tears soaking into his shirt.
"Ri-ck, I was so scared, and you s-s-said not to tell M-mom but you stopped, you stopped breathing and I couldn't get the-the oxygen to work and I swear I didn't tell but y-yuh-you can't do this to m-me again man I can't-" His voice keeps cracking, chest heaving and words broken up by half-aborted little whines and hiccups. "Morty, Morty calm down, hold on just fucking, t-take a breath alright. Morty just breathe" Rick rubs his back, the kids practically crawled into the cot with him, his little hands clenched so tight in Ricks shirt he's sure the seems are gonna snap. "A-asshole..."
Morty sobs. Rick realizes he doesn't remember a fucking thing from the last 36 hours, which is not ideal when you're a manic super-genius. From the sounds of it he gave himself alcohol poisoning again, considering the barely contained nausea and the way his head pulses with pain along to his heartbeat. It's been a while since he drank enough to make himself sick, it takes a lot. Last time must have been since before he came back. That explains why Morty's so fuckin broken up about it, it's not a pretty sight and the little guys never seen him that bad before.
"Mort, buddy it's okay, just a little alcohol poisoning. Little bit of zerock powder and I'll be good as new." "W-why'd you drink so much?" Morty asks, finally pulling his face away from Rick's chest. He's still breathing hard, but his eyes have dried. He looks genuinely confused, a little crease forming between his eyebrows. Rick gets the inexplicable urge to rub it away, kids too young for wrinkles. God, he's gonna go grey by 30, just like Rick. The thought brings a new wave of nausea crashing over Rick's head, he has to lean off the side of the cot so he doesn't fuckin drown in it. There's a big plastic bowl there, he almost gets all of it in. All that comes out is clear liquid and bright yellow bile, his stomach cramps sharp and he almost knocks Morty clean over with how violently he flinches.
"Rick, why did you drink so much. Did, did something bad h-happen?" Morty asks again, incessant. "'Something bad' what are you talking about?" Morty looks at his hands, he's sitting on his folded up legs right on the edge of the shitty cot, Rick just realized the boys still in the same clothes he last remembers him in. There's blood down the front, it doesn't look like it came from Morty. "Dr. Wong says, uhm. She said that people, they do a lot of like drugs and stuff when they feel bad. Or like, to escape or whatever. Is that what you were doing? R-running away from something?" What the fuck is that lady talking to this thirteen year old about? He should find out where she lives. Encourage some fucking boundaries.
"Jesus wept Morty, Can't a man get blow-out black-out drunk w-without his grandson fucking, psychoanalyzing him. No, I do it cause it's fun Morty. And I don't need to, ugh, to run from anything, I deal with my pr-problems just fine." Morty looks skeptical, little bastard. "Get, get offa my bed, fucking. Change your shirt, look like a vampire victim." Rick shoves at the boy, knocking him off the cot onto the floor. "Ow! Asshole! I-I'm trying to, trying to help you dick!" Morty yells. "Morty I swear to god if you keep being a loud piece of shit I'm gonna down your sisters hamster and blame you for it."
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