#brain wave sensor

[neuphony9]

The EXG Synapse by Neuphony is an advanced device designed to monitor and analyze multiple biosignals, including EEG, ECG, and EMG. It offers real-time data for research and neurofeedback, making it ideal for cognitive enhancement and physiological monitoring.

[neophony]

Neuphony EXG Synapse has comprehensive biopotential signal compatibility, covering ECG, EEG, EOG, and EMG, ensures a versatile solution for various physiological monitoring applications.

[neuphonyforyou]

Monitor brain waves involves using sensors to detect and measure electrical activity in the brain, known as electroencephalography (EEG). This non-invasive method provides insights into cognitive states, mental processes, and neurological conditions, wireless eeg headset.

[fingertipsmp3]

Somebody’s cat just set off the security light and scared the absolute shit out of me lol

[mrpenguinpants]

Sakura, did they...set off your romance sensor?

—  "Oh, listen, this boy here…whenever he senses anything romantic…he goes beet red in the face!!" - Tasuku Tsubakino (Ch.66)

— Hayato Suo, Hajime Umemiya, Jo Togame

[Masterlist]

Wow, my windbreaker brain rot has shot me into a whole new timeline where I can sit down and write. Not gonna lie, not my favorite but it is what it is. I've beat my first fic for a fandom nerves.

Hajime Umemiya

When Umemiya had called a rooftop meeting, Sakura had been through them enough to know what to expect. Umemiya would either show up late or be completely off-topic until someone, mostly Hiragi, stepped in to direct the meeting to its actual purpose. Most of the time, the distractions would be on his plants or his giddy plans of having another barbeque with everyone. It used to be annoying, Sakura once believed the reason why Umemiya was so unserious was because he didn't care. But he knows better now than to take that carefree smile on the surface level. Deep down, Umemiya is a great leader who knows when it's time to get serious.

But this...

Sakura's cheeks are already turning pink.

This is a bit too much for him. He hasn't leveled up enough for this.

"The Three Sisters is a method of gardening that involves planting corn, beans, and squash together. The corn provides support for the beans and squash, the beans add nitrogen to the soil, and the squash's sprawling vines create shade and discourage pests too. It's really quite fascinating, don't you think so Ume?" you ask, lightly petting the leaves of his most recent tomato plant sprout. Your eyes downcasted as you thumb away bits of dirt that happened to be blown by the wind onto the greenery. Perhaps it's because you're one of the few people who entertain Umemiya's rapid obsession with his garden, even going out of your way to tell him facts to better his plot and compliment him on his efforts. Heck, Sakura has seen Umemiya crying because Nirei has told him that his saplings look bigger each time. While Sakura does not doubt that those feelings and expressions were genuine, the look Umemiya is giving you, a look you're not even seeing, feels different. Umemiya himself is different.

"Yeah..." Umemiya responds in a soft tone, his voice almost a whisper. Their usually talkative leader who won't shut up for half a second, who talks over people, is currently so distracted that it's kind of embarrassing watching him. He's been staring at you, eyes zeroing in on your fingers as they brush against the leaves, almost entranced by the sight. Sakura would give anything to leave right now, this second-hand embarrassment is too much. Luckily, Umemiya finally seems to register that you and he aren't alone despite the fact he was the one who called the meeting in the first place. His head perks up confused, hands on top of his knees, as he's greeted with varying expressions from his grade captains. Hiragi in particular looks like he's having both a stomach ache and the urge to slap the back of Umemiya's head. The urge is only partially restrained when you also look up, sending them all a little wave. Hiragi isn't going to slug Umemiya if you're there to see it, it's the pride of a man to not get beaten up in front of his crush.

"Oh shoot, you're all here already? Why didn't you say anything?" Umemiya whines, standing up while dusting his pants free of any lingering dirt. He extends a hand to you, not before rubbing his palm furiously on the back of his shirt, to help you up, "I'll see you later?"

"Mm, sure. Good luck with your new sprouts. Remember to remove the bottom leaves once the plants are over 3 feet tall. I'll be upset if they develop fungus issues," you pat Umemiya's cheek gently, ignoring the way that Umemiya completely melts openly at the gesture. You turn to nod at the rest of them, offering another wave goodbye, as you pass them to exit the rooftop. The resounding sound of the door closing finally sets them back on track.

"We did," Hiragi speaks up as soon the vibrations in the air fizzle out with an exasperated expression, referring back to Umemiya's first question, "You were too busy staring. We've been here for almost ten minutes, you idiot."

"Sorry, sorry, my bad," Umemiya laughs easily, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Although he's been clearly called out, Umemiya doesn't seem the slightest bit ruffled. Sure, he looks a little bashful but Sakura doubts that he'll tone it back much to the embarrassment of any onlooker. Maybe one day, he'll be able to look that happy with his own feelings on display.

A sudden clap has Sakura jolting back to reality, Umemiya's loud voice returning back to something familiar, "Now then, come sit! I prepared some snacks for us all to share."

Everyone else seems used to Umemiya's behavior and they easily follow him, completely disregarding your and Umemiya's interactions as if they never happened. Sakura doesn't really get it but if everyone else is unbothered, it'd be seriously uncool if he said anything. He lets out a sigh, whatever. It's none of his business anyway.

"Sakura, why are you blushing?" Nirei, the bastard, pipes up behind him. Suo, the even worst bastard, laughs behind his hand like he's some rich Victorian lady.

"Huh, no I- I'm not." Sakura's cheeks went from pink to red, now that he's been caught. He looks away, avoiding eye contact, "S-Shut the hell up!"

Hayato Suo

"Mr. Customer, if you're dissatisfied with our menu, you're more than welcome to leave."

Sakura blinks, head jerking up as he crosses the threshold of Café Pothos. Initially, he assumed those words were directed at him even though it wouldn't make sense. He quite likes the menu despite only ordering the same thing each time. But no, when Sakura looks up it's to a rather unexpected sight. Suo sits at the bar counter, back ram-rod straight and his hands folded in his lap, with that ever-pleasant smile on his lips. Across from him stands a worker Sakura has never seen before. He always assumed that Kotoha was the only employee, but today seems to be full of surprises. A green apron with white ties, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and hands fisted against the hips.

"The bakery across the street would love to hear your complaints, Mr. Customer."

---

There is something about the new worker and Suo that keeps Sakura glancing back at them after he's sat himself in a secluded corner. Perhaps it's because it's a new face he has yet to meet at a place he frequents so often. It's normal to be curious right? Or maybe it's Suo being here alone. He's never seen the man "out in the wild" before. They aren't even looking at him, Suo hadn't even looked up when he first opened the door although Sakura is sure that Suo is aware of him. He's creepy like that. The new worker, however, whips an annoyed glance at Suo before letting out an irritated huff, arms crossing over the green apron, and glaring down at Suo’s smiling face. A face that would remain ever-pleasant in any given situation.

Regardless...

"Is this your version of service? It must be hard on the customer," Suo chuckles, a slight tilt of his head that bounces his tassel earring. Suo's laugh, however, causes Sakura to feel a hint of surprise. It's not a laugh he expects the man to give, yet at the same time, it suits him.

"That's because you're a terrible customer and a pain in the ass." The worker sneers, leaning in so the two of them are face to face.

Suo seems to be difficult for anyone to handle.

"It's busy today," Kotoha says, appearing out of thin air and scaring Sakura half to death. A plate of steaming omurice slides in front of him because he really does only order one thing here. It's not a great conversation starter, but it's nice of her to break the odd tension that has settled over the cafe. Kotoha is also looking to the side, watching the scene of her co-worker and Suo bickering and arguing. Passive aggressive comments are being flown out, scathing remarks padded with polite voices, so much so that the two of you don't seem to register anyone else around. Completely wrapped up in your world of irritation versus amusement.

"What…are they even arguing about?" Sakura chances to ask, his eyes still glued to the curve of Suo's smile, red eye focused solely on you. His hand idly reaches for his spoon, scooping up a bit of rice and egg, yet it hovers in the air ideally. Suo has his head tilted and is leaning somewhat in the worker's space. His eyes don't stray, watching each shift in facial expression carefully to gauge whether his words are having their intended effect. He looks like he's having way too much fun.

"Oh, that." Kotoha giggles, placing her palm on the table. She too looks like she's having way too much fun, "They always go back and forth like that. It's like a game of cat and mouse with those two. They're both stubborn as hell so it's a constant power struggle between them. Although, I wonder what they're arguing about this time. They always bicker at each other when we change shifts."

Kotoha shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She glances briefly at Sakura before her eyes drift back to the other two. She raises her hand, finally cutting the bubble between you and Suo.

"Hey, I'm back from break. Thanks for covering for me," she calls, waving her hand in the air. The frown that was permanently on your face melts away when you break eye contact with Suo, returning to a more neutral blank look. You only nod to Kotoha, flashing up a thumbs-up, and you move to head back to the kitchen. But not before sticking your tongue out at Suo over your shoulder as you disappear through the doorway. Sakura blinked surprised, he had somewhat expected a different reaction than something so...tame. His eyes drift to Suo and he can feel his cheeks heat up.

He doesn't think he's seen Suo look happier.

Jo Togame

"See, you peel off the seal on the cap. Remove the ring from the little plastic piece you use to push the marble. Then, with your thumb, press down, and poof, the marble drops and you can enjoy!" you grin as you move slowly for Sakura to see your hands with each instruction. The fizz of carbonation and the clink of the marble hitting the glass amplified louder in the abandoned auditorium. A few other shishitoren members are loitering, but only you and Sakura are sitting up on the edge of the stage. After the embarrassment of not knowing how to open the ramune Togame had given him, he sought you out to explain it to him. Sakura didn't think he could stomach it if he went back to Togame again for help. He follows your movement, his fingers removing the thin seal. Popping the ring off the marble pusher, and with his thumb, pushes on the marble. His thumb slips a few times, but you're patient as you coax him to try again. With his third attempt, he feels the marble give, the rewarding sound of bubbles popping.

"Thanks..." Sakura mumbles, a faint blush on his cheeks as you cheer your ramune's together as you take a swig.

"No problem," you say nonchalantly, leaning your weight back on your arms. With the bottle held in your hand, you watch Sakura, who is intently staring at the drink on his own. The silence between you isn't exactly uncomfortable, but you can sense the slight embarrassment oozing off him. "Soooo... how's it taste?"

He gives a soft hum before taking a small sip, the fizzy liquid leaving a tingling sensation on his tongue. It's not as sweet as he thought it’d be. It's rather subtle for a soda. He takes a longer sip this time, the fizz tickling his nose and bubbles popping against his lip. Looking at you sidelong, he can see you already staring at him excitedly. You weren't kidding when you said you were a big fan of this.

"It's sweet, I guess," his voice soft as he shrugs. A few strands of his white hair fell in front of his face. His eyes glance up at you as you stare at him intently, waiting for him to continue. He awkwardly bites the inside of his cheek. It still feels weird having people who actually want to hear his opinion, even if it's as small as a drink. "A bit strange… The flavor is nice, but the fizz is new."

He takes another sip, careful with the angle he tilts the bottle lest the marble block the opening. He doesn't really understand the appeal of the marble. It's a nuisance. The fizz was the best part of the soda, but the clinking made it impossible to drink it quietly. Besides, he holds the ramune bottle out, how the hell do you even get it out? Does he need to throw it against a wall to break the bottle? He doesn't want to get broken glass everywhere since someone could accidentally step on it.

"Is the marble irritating you?" you ask, laughing quietly under your breath to not set Sakura off into another tomato-faced explosion.

"No!" he answers with a quick hiss, cheeks flushing. He can feel you stare at him as a smirk dances across your lips. He can already envision the teasing you’re concocting to make him react. He gives another soft huff, refusing to look at you, as he fidgets with the bottle. He doesn't want to ask you to help again. He already feels like a helpless idiot. Instead of commenting, you swing yourself upwards, planting your hand on your knee. The other hand, wrapped around the bottle, moves to your lips as you down the rest of your drink. The fizz of bubbles pops in the air while Sakura looks at you bewildered. Weren't you supposed to drink carbonated drinks slowly or you'll stomach hurt? Did you become immune or something from drinking so many?

"Come on, let's go. I still haven't finished my ramune 101 class," you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, winking over your shoulder which sends Sakura into another pink mess, as you slide off the stage.

"W- What do you mean we’re not done?" he stammers quickly, flustered as he scrambles up to follow you. He feels a bit dizzy from going from a sitting position to standing too quickly. He grips the bottle in his hand and takes a few quick steps to catch up to you as you stride to the doors leading outside the auditorium. You laugh again when he rushes to catch up. His quick reaction time betrays his small stature. It's kinda cute.

"It means I'm gonna teach you how to get the damn marble out, genius" you tease, shoving his shoulder as you reach the doors. Opening them, the two of you were met with the cool outside air. It's refreshing after being indoors for so long and the auditorium has gotten you both hot and stuffy. Hence the initial ramune drinks. You quickly take his hand, ignoring the screams, as you drag Sakura to the side of the building. "Togame! Are you sleeping still?"

"Huh?" a tired voice answers groggily from the other side of the wall. Togame is sitting on the ground next to the wall with his back against the auditorium. He has his legs stretched out, his head leaning back on the wall, rubbing his eyes to clear the ever-constant droop in his eyes. He looks as if he is napping before being rudely interrupted, "I was..."

"Oops. Hehe, sorry," you chuckle, hands raised up in a mock surrender although you don't particularly look apologetic. To be fair, Togame doesn't look upset either. Only gives you and Sakura a sleepy smile and nods as he raises his arm high to stretch. His green eyes drifted to the bottles of ramune in your hands with a curious tilt of the chin. In response, you beam at him, rattling the marble inside the glass bottle before handing it to him. "Please, if you could."

Togame snorts as he takes the bottle. There's a hint of playfulness in his tired eyes as he shakes the bottle a few times, letting the marble inside thump against the glass. It's funny watching the marble rattle around. It reminds him of a little toy marble maze he had as a child. He flicks his gaze to look at Sakura, who stands off to the side stiffly. The poor kid looks ready to bolt at any second when given an opening. His own half-finished bottle lays limply in his hand, the marble reflecting off the sun's light.

"You know you just have to twist the cap in the opposite direction right?" he says, wrapping his fingers around the blue lid and twisting the cap off. Turning the bottle over, he catches the marble from the opening into the palm of his hand. He extends his hand, sliding the marble into your waiting ones. "I know you're strong enough to do that."

"Yeah, but my hands get cramps and it's impossible to move it!"

"I don't think that's how that works...But if it really is too hard, you can keep coming to me."

Sakura stands by, feeling out of place as you go back and forth with Togame. Yet, he doesn't feel like an intruder this time, merely an observer. He looks down at his own bottle, hands moving to twist the cap off while making sure he doesn't spill the drink.

It's easy. It pops right off with barely any effort. Sakura has quite literally seen you throw a man double your size over your shoulder.

The marble reflects his face messily, but there's a shine of red glinting off the surface.

[bubbiethesaur]

Hey, baby

Just a little sunhinged sketch for y’all

Laplace's Angel by Will Wood makes brain go brrrrrr

So this scene from Sun’s backstory made it into the start of chapter 16 of LRA, but it was originally much longer. I had pages and pages written, from Sun playing in the daycare with the kids to interactions with different people each time he woke up to scenes in Parts n Services. But each time I slipped it into the chapter, it didn’t work. It didn’t do justice to Sun’s story. So I took what I had and rewrote it, pulling in bits and pieces to create something that makes my heart ache every time I reread it.

But I also saved that original document. Once LRA is done (whenever that may be), I’m planning on releasing scenes, chapters, and ideas that never made it into the story on ao3, probably in a fic called The Scrapyard (lol). But for now here is a little excerpt from the original scene below the cut.

(tw: dissociation, graphic violence to human, reference to sa but not shown)

Sun looked at the bedroom door then down at his hands. There was something wrong with his touch sensors again. He was overloaded with sensations crawling over every inch of his metal coverings—the scratchy carpet and the tight leather harness and the horrendously gentle breeze from the air conditioner slinking through his rays. 

Too much input. Too much everything. He felt crushed and warped and overheated. He felt… he felt…

Angry.

So so so angry. His body shook, and the shriek of metal slicing across metal cut through the air. He caught his balance against the wall, digging claws into the off-white paint, as a second set of arms now extended from his waist. 

Strange. He thought those had been removed years ago.

The bathroom door opened and he singled in on the man entering the hall, shirtless and whistling in a way that made Sun’s audio input ring. With a startled double-take, the man froze, eyes popping wide and mouth hanging open in a ridiculous manner. 

“Hey, baby,” Sun simpered, waving all four hands. This time the smile that stretched across his face was genuine.

“W-what the hell, man?” 

Sun stalked forward as the man backed away, a lovely enticing hunger growing at the sight. 

“Are you ready to play something new?”

“What are you… sh-shut down, that’s an order,” the man stuttered, but Sun only crept closer. “I said shut down! Get away from me! Get away—”

The screams ended much too soon, even with Sun taking his time. The animatronic panted without breath as he peeled off the man’s skin, flayed him open like Sun had been every time he woke up. Blood soaked through the holes in the silicone around his hands, slick and warm in such a delicious way. He bit into the man’s neck just to taste it.

[addicted-to-dc]

AK!Jason Todd x Catwoman’s protégé! Reader - Just for tonight, Kitty - Pt 2

I really had to squeeze my brain to get this out, but I cannot wait for maybe part 3 👀? I have some ideas revolving around a fic or two for Gotham Knights! Jason. We shall see.

Link to part 1

Content: mind control, violence (obv), toxic af relationship, lovers to enemies to lovers (again)?

----------

It feels like you’re being puppeteered, every movement meticulously controlled by strings and sticks. It almost feels like last Tuesday. You had infiltrated Star Labs to steal some new tech designs, especially when Batman was distracted by Catwoman.

Security is nothing compared to your skill, even if you’re not completely yourself. It takes a bit longer than you’d prefer, but you finally make it to Stagg’s office.

Adjusting your goggles, you scan the area for anything that could spoil your fun. One by one, you check off your mental list until you clear the room. Most rich CEOs usually hide their deepest darkest secrets, not wanting an inkling of them to be discovered. Not Stagg, though, you know his type.

Walking around the room, your eyes scan over the décor. A man like Stagg likes to be reminded of his accomplishments. The publicity photos, front page Gotham Gazette articles, the whole nostalgic works. Everything seems to stroke his ego one way or another, but then you finally see what you’re looking for. At first, it seems like a piece of trash thrown onto a table. No, it’s the focal point, the center of it all.

You scan over the structure before carefully opening it. A flash drive appears, absolutely begging to be taken away from this place. Readying yourself, you snag the drive and place the top back on.  Just as you’re about to head to the door, you hear footsteps approaching. You immediately head for the window, quickly dismantling the alarm as you pry a panel open.

Closing it just in time, you push yourself up against the exterior of the building. Letting out a breath, you move further away from the window and jump. Falling with the rain, you crack your whip and swing off a flagpole. The momentum sends you buildings away from Stagg Enterprises, finally completing what Jason… what the Arkham Knight ordered you to do.

“It’s done.”

Despite the job being done and over with, you still have no control over yourself. Your body keeps moving, heading deeper and deeper into parts of the city you’ve never even seen. Landing softly in an alleyway, your body heads straight towards the end of it. Even your sensors fail to pick anything out of the ordinary. Why has he brought you here?

You hear him land behind you after a few moments. Turning around, you move to hand him the flash drive. The Knight acknowledges it with a head tilt before taking it from you. It disappears in one of his pockets. As soon as his hands are free, he presses a button on his wrist.

You tear your helmet off as soon as your body catches up with your mind. Rage builds into your chest as you lash out at him. He can’t prevent your claws from screeching along his armor until you finally find skin.

“You just come back from the dead and USE ME?!” you scream, grunting as he grabs your arm and twists it behind your back.

You try to lash out with your free arm, but he quickly dodges the attack. Before you know it, your back is against the cold brick wall of the alleyway. One hand holds yours above your head, the other trails across your cheek to wipe away rogue tears.

“They wanted me to kill you, this was the only option,” Jason reveals, using his spare hand to open the front of his mask. “I-I couldn’t do it.”

“Why are you doing this, Jay?” you beg, sick of the mind games that he’s putting you through.

“Batman.” A wave of cold washes over you at his tone, riddled with a hatred you’ve never seen before. “He left me to die, (Y/N), he deserves to die for what he’s done.”

“Jay, he searched for you. We all did, but when we saw him shoot you, we thought you were dead,” you whisper, flinching as he leans closer to your face.

“You did find me, though, in Venezuela,” he growls, leaning closer until his helm digs into your skin. “Do you know how hard it was to let you leave? I couldn’t believe my girl finally found me.”

“What are you going to do now that you have me?” you ask, staring into his cold blue eyes. “Lock me away as you take over Gotham with your buddies?”

His eyes darkened at the suggestion. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

You shake your head, more tears escaping from your eyes, “I lost you, Jay, really lost you. I just got you back and you’re just going to do it all over again.”

He remains silent, unsure how to respond. Jay slowly leans in, his lips ghosting over yours before lightly kissing you. Your resolve shatters quickly, leaning into the kiss and giving in to your desires. You can’t lose him again.

He releases your hands, abandoning them to grasp your waist and yank you closer. The softness of the kiss disappears, desperation forcing the kiss to become feral. Both of you break away to breathe, taking each other in as you recover.

“Can we pretend, just for tonight, Kitty?” Jason asks, his eyes desperately pleading you to agree. “I can’t stop what’s in motion, but I’ll explain everything.”

Fuck it.

“Just for tonight, Birdy.”

[hatter-and-dodo-in-wonderland]

Draw your character wearing...

11: Interview Outfit

Jervis had shown me his interview for a neuroscience student who wanted to feature him for a presentation in his school.

Jervis Tetch is truly recognized for his achievements that have helped the scientific community make great strides in the mysteries of the brain! (Especially in the dream area)

In the image presented above, He talks about electrodes connected to neurons and other cells located in the cerebellum for the "slaves'" coordination. Then other electrodes connected to the frontal part of the brain where his thoughts are located, the part where he can give the orders. All the information is transmitted by electromagnetic waves and sensors detecting the bioelectronic micro pulsations of neurons. (Hope I didn't make any mistakes, correct me please)

The guy also asked about his first intentions when he created that device, Jervis' answer was nevertheless curious "I wanted to prove to them I can control anything thanks to it"

The young man sounded perplexed by this sentence, wondering where did he got that idea maybe?

I might add the boy's patience and determination in this presentation was huge, very gentle and attentive, perhaps even friendly when he asked me personal questions

-Jervis

[neuphony9]

Neuphony's EEG technology captures and analyzes brain waves, offering real-time insights into cognitive states. It's designed for personalized neurofeedback, meditation, and mental health improvement, empowering users to enhance focus, relaxation, and overall brain performance through data-driven approaches.

[bonny-kookoo]

Is there a chance you‘ll write a Drabble of into the wild where Jungkook or OT7 have to take the instinct test? I‘m so curious about it!!

He's gone through the theoretical part of his instinct evaluation test- today, it's the most difficult and most challenging part of it all.

He's only allowed to go through this once. The process differs from every test so as not to give any wolf the chance to prepare and 'cheat' the system in any way by telling others what to prepare for. He's got three small sensors placed on his forehead and the sides to measure brain activity- and he knows that behind the walls around him, there's people watching and judging his body language and behavior at all times.

He can't see them- the walls are only see-through one way.

It starts off almost comical. Like they're joking.

Jungkook himself is sitting on a chair, watching how the differently colored rabbits jump around the room, inspecting their surroundings and occasionally sniffing on his leg. He honestly thinks they're cute. They're prey- but not in this moment. He knows how to differentiate that.

Though he also knows that there's a lot of alphas that struggle with this already.

Someone walks in- a nurse, who picks up the rabbits, puts them in their boxes again before she walks out, leaving him alone again. He taps on his leg, simply out of boredom. He's confident he's gonna pass- he's trained a lot up to this point after all.

"How do you feel right now?" Someone asks over the speaker, and Jungkook perks up.

"Good." He simply answers, since there's nothing else he can really say. He doesn't feel like anything is really going on with him- and the people watching his brain activity nod, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Images are shown. Videos are watched. He's surprisingly calm through all of it.

But he's growing nervous now. Because scents are used at this stage, and he knows he's a little vulnerable to those things. Especially this one-

Prime omega. Used as an extreme example that he won't ever encounter in real life since there's no prime omegas around anymore- but to see what he can handle, the personnel tends to use rather harsh things to try and coax a reaction out of him.

And it's working.

"His eyes are reacting." A nurse observes behind the one-way window, watching him. "He's also starting to sweat." She notes further, and it's clear that on the brain wave scale, there's also something happening.

"Its still very mild though. All in the acceptable ranges." A man with glasses mentions. "He's nowhere near shifting."

Jungkook starts to wiggle his leg up and down. He's growing nervous now, saliva collecting in his mouth as he needs to concentrate. The air is getting lighter again, when the door opens, a tall man entering.

An alpha, sitting down across from Jungkook.

"Having trouble?" He asks, and it's clear that his job is to look and coax out any aggressive behavior from the now vulnerable werewolf in front of him. He might not even be a wolf- maybe he's just a human guy, drenched in the scent of an alpha wolf.

"A bit." Jungkook tilts his head, smiles though- trying to push his emotions towards cracking jokes instead.

"I can see that." The man offers. "You noted down in your papers that you've never got into a serious physical fight with any of your packmates." He states, and Jungkook nods. "Hard to believe. Or are you just a pushover? Nothing wrong with that." He jabs, and Jungkook can't help but clench his jaw a bit.

"Being a pushover and having no need for violence to get a point across isn't really the same thing." Jungkook exclaims slowly, before he takes in a deep breath. "I exercise. That's how I let go of stress."

"You're a prime alpha. It's hard to believe you just let your pack be led by someone else." The man scoffs. "Isn't it insulting to just follow orders?"

"No." Jungkook declines, swallowing, before clearing his throat. The smell of that guy is clogging up his neck it feels like. "I trust in my pack alpha that he knows what's best. Same with the human government. There's a reason for every choice made even if it's the wrong one in my eyes." He offers, adjusting his position on the chair.

"If you found a human partner you're compatible with, how would you go at it?" The guy asks, crossing his arms.

"Depends." Jungkook shrugs. "Ask her out. If she isn't interested, go about my day. If she is, go on a date with her. Easy." He says.

"And if she doesnt want you because you're a wolfblood?" He asks, making Jungkook shake his head.

"Then that's a choice. I don't judge." He says.

"Now that you say that.." the man says, and by the look of him, he's preparing himself for a reaction now. "..that's interesting, considering your parents both now live in the cities and abandoned you in the woods."

Jungkook stays silent, swallows down a growl building up.

"Must've been confusing for a young boy. But then again-" the guy offers, "-there was no way you could've been raised in the city amongst regular people without putting anyone in danger." He says.

"It's wolf culture. Tradition." Jungkook explains calmly. "Nothing wrong with that. I visit them regularly and have no problems with them whatsoever." He declines, a little tense but still collected.

There's a bit of silence in the room, Jungkook's breathing deep and even to keep himself calm. He hates that the scents around him make him this nervous.

"And if you found a wolf partner? An omega even?" He asks, and Jungkook wants to answer, when he's interrupted.

A sudden noise behind him makes him jump, though he stays seated- only turns around, before he realizes they're probably using auditory stimuli now to really test him. He recovers fairly quickly, turning back towards the man in front of him.

"I- the same as the other question I just answered." He says. "Ask her out. If she's not interested, leave her alone. If she is, court her." He shrugs, before tilting his head to crack his neck twice.

"I mean that's easy to say." The man chuckles. "But I guess we'll see how you do out there in the wild." He suddenly smiles, standing up to reach out his hand. "Thank you for participating. You'll get your results by the end of this week." He says, and Jungkook sighs relieved, shaking the man's hand.

"Thanks." He offers, leaving the facility with all of his psck who celebrate later in the woods at the pack house, though he shifts first and foremost, having to run off his tense muscles and pent up emotions from the day.

But its all worth it when he receives his score two days later, and even a certificate for his outstanding results, boosting his confidence like never before.

His work had payed off.

He's officially free.

[skitariiposting]

The Little Servitor That Could

(Pish posh pish posh pish...)

The Martian radiation never ceased to annoy the servitor. It caused it's censors to flicker and buzz every time it left its home under the sands. The dunes it trudged through a tiring obstical

(Clank clunk clank clunk clank...)

Safety, finally. Metal beneath feet again. It had accomplished its mission successfully, too. Minimal damages to its carapace and biological components. It just had to reunite with its master to report the deed so it may be complete.

(Vrrrrrrrrrrrrr shunk. Vrrrrrrrrrr shunk.)

The door is stuck. It slides open slowly and then attempts to close, stopping short of a torso, then returning to the left. Obviously, the machine is upset about this, being unable to complete its duties of closing itself.

"Dreaded biological" the machine spirit mutters to itself. Another attempt to close, another failure. The body becomes a little more bruised, but slowly but surely the door continues attempting to bisect it so it may finally be closed. It's resisters prevent it to just clamp the body in twain in one swift shut, so it must continue this silly game of open and shut.

"I have returned from my mission master doorway," the servitor bleeps and bloops enthusiastically, "I wish to enter and report to master techpriest!"

"Ah, good, someone with limbs. Might you move this sorry sod from me servitor?"

"Of course, right away." The servitor bends down and yanks the legs of the corpse, freeing the doorway to finally complete its own mission; shutting.

"Perfect. Thank you servitor," if the door could breathe, a sigh of relief would have left it, "Now, let's get you inside." Just as quickly as it had closed, it opened again, letting the servitor through.

(Ting, foosh, ting, foosh, ting, foosh...)

The sounds of automated machinery filled the air, a beautiful orchestra of autohammers and blast furnaces preparing sheets of metal for further processing later in the production line. The servitor steps gingerly over the bodies littering the catwalks. It acknowledges the identities of skitariius, five or six, each of which having gave their lives for the mechanicus. The other bodies it does not recognize, so it does not care about them. It continues on. Another door, another access granted, another catwalk, another bout of 'body dodging.' Clearly something wrong has occurred here, but it is not the servitor's place to figure out what it was; only to deliever its message. It's mission must be completed.

(Cough... sputter... wheeze...)

The tech priest lay amongst the rubble and clutched at the wound in her side. Fatal, the likely outcome, but there was still hope. Her biological sensors are lit up like a radar cogigator when a youngling gets their incantations wrong. The damage will take hours if not days to heal if she could get to the biologus. She dragged herself to her feet. Just before she could complete the rite of opening on the door, something beat her to it. Her phosphor pistol readied itself for the first sign of aggression, its sensors poised and ready to unleash a wave of slag projectiles into the unfortunate soul. It wouldn't get the chance, however, as the soul was, in fact, the servitor.

"Oh. It's. You?" The tech priest winced once again and nearly collapsed.

"Unit 4512-"

"Yes, yes, unit number is not important right now. Hurry up so I can get to -" she faltered. This time, she would actually collapse to the ground. Blood loss was approaching critical levels. The servitor was non-plused about the ordeal. After all, the emotions portion of its brain was carved out long ago. It had no capacity for emoting to the situation. It just wanted to complete its mission so it can get started on the next one.

"I have a message from the skitariius scouting party. They wish to warn you about an incoming attack from a rogue penal colony ship. The prisoners revolted and command over the vessel."

With that the servitor had finally finished its duties. The tiny endorphine dose it was allowed coursed through its circuitry and finally, it had the feeling of a job well done.

The techpriest sat in silence for a moment, looking at the blood on her hand. She looked at the orange jumpsuits the mangled and burned corpses were adorn with all around her, then back to the servitor incredulously.

"Yeah... no kidding?" She muttered. And with that, the world spun slowly fading into blackness.

The footsteps of the servitor echoed through the hall as it continued to its next task. She caught a final glimpse of her student's body across the room catching the servitor's foot, tripping it for a moment. She sank down slowly to the floor and slipped away.

(Clank clunk clank clunk clank clunk)

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Unexpected Delivery

There had been many changes when their father returned home. Some were new, some were the old status quo reasserting itself.

As Jeff had taken over the daily running of Tracy Industries and the paperwork associated with International Rescue, Scott had managed to take back some of his old duties on the Island.

One of those was unpacking the supplies Virgil regularly brought back from the mainland.

First was the perishables: foods, some of Brains’ more exotic experimental materials, whatever-the-hell it was that Gordon was ordering in to assist in rehabilitating their surrounding sea-scape. Personal deliveries came second, portioning out the mail orders; of which a not-insignificant portion was personal food stocks – Grandma still couldn’t be dissuaded from cooking, even though everyone now had more time to contribute to kitchen duties. Third was domestic consumables: toilet paper, light bulbs, cleaning supplies, and personal grooming and hygiene products – including so much deodorant. And then maintenance supplies; raw materials for production of the custom parts necessary for the maintenance of the Thunderbirds, parts for maintenance for the Villa and auxiliary buildings.

It was a comfortable routine, and one that Scott enjoyed, especially dealing with the maintenance supplies. Checking the packing slip against their internal register of projected deliveries, using the pallet-bot to deposit the large crates and bins at the appropriate areas, before unpacking the individual crates, confirming the itemised stock within, and storing them in the appropriate locations, as he updated the warehousing inventory.

It was a simple – and satisfying – job.

Today there was an extra crate. A large roughly square crate, one and one half to two metres in every dimension and solidly built. Scott frowned at it. There was no sender’s ident, and the anonymous holographic label implanted in the rough-hewn, tightly-spaced wooden slats simply read ‘International Rescue’.

Nothing was unaccounted for on the projected deliveries. There was nothing left over from previous runs, nothing on back order.

Scott checked Virgil’s collection register. This package had been collected from their mail facility at Tracy Industries Headquarters, the security assessment on this crate was attached. Nothing untoward. No radiation, no explosive compounds, no biological matter …

Thunderbird Two’s pod sensors hadn’t detected a threat, either.

“What is it?”

Scott started, jumping as the Mechanic materialised beside him, looking between Scott and the crate curiously.

A slight hesitation – he still hadn’t fully overcome his distrust of the other man, nor had the Mechanic suddenly taken a liking to him – and he explained the situation.

“Only one way to find out. If all the scans are clear.”

Scott waved his tablet at the man, who, after a second, took it, and considered the record trail. He handed the tablet back, and summoned two of his ‘scorpion’ mechas to the crate.

“Better blow them up, than us, if your scans are wrong,” was the response to Scott’s raised eyebrow.

Scott agreed without hesitation. The crate was in a secure section of the hangars, there was no danger to any of their equipment – they had learnt that the hard way, soon after Jeff had … gone on sabbatical. The two men backed off a respectful distance, and watched as the two machines surged forward, powerful pinchers forcing themselves under the lid and prising it up, before skittering around the crate to settle either side of it, like guardians.

The back of the lid was hinged, and a holographic sign projected against the rough and splintery wood. ‘A gift. From a friend.’

The two men approached cautiously. And stared in shock at what lay on the straw at the bottom of the crate.

The Hood, bound hand and foot – hands behind his back – lay half curled with in the space. His naked body bruised and bloody, the slight rise and fall of his chest the only sign the man was alive.

Scott Tracy – Commander of International Rescue, First Responder, Qualified Paramedic, and Survivor of a POW Camp – swallowed his bile as he took in the sight of the bloody and weeping bandage around the man’s head that ineffectively protected what he knew would be the bloody and empty socket where the cybernetic eye had been.

Mutely Scott and the Mechanic stared at each other, both searching for answers the other didn’t have.

How were they ever going to explain this?

Notes:

Febuwhump Day 21 “Unresponsive”.

Whoops. I totally missed posting this one on the date. Other important dates I have missed include my mothers, and my niece's birthdays. Oh well, off to the dog house!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[bltzgore]

what do you mean by "noncon cyborgs"? 👀 iii wanna knowwwww

Oh my gosh! Thank you for asking!!! Now I get to rant about it 😈

Noncon cyborgs is the nonconsentual modification of a whumpee (whumper or oooooooh! Caretaker!!!) with mechanical augmentations. But thats just a technical description, it's all about what it can be:

- whumpee waking up after being in a fire, a collapsing building, a general disaster, and they're certain they should have died. But they wake up and they are strapped to a steel table in a room that is a few degrees too cold.

- they cannot recognize their own voice

- they cannot feel the cold air on a specific limb

- they aren't breathing. Not that they can't. They aren't. And they're not dying from it?

- the utter silence of it all makes them realize their heart isn't beating either.

- whumper enters and begins to coo, their new creation, their pet, their wonderful new tool, is perfect.

- "What happened to me? How did I survive the ---? Who are you?!"

- whumper shows them a mirror or maybe they see a reflection of themselves in whumper's lab goggles (safety first).

- "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!? WHAT AM I!?"

- whumper smiles, "Sweetheart, you didn't survive the ---." Then they reach down, and they press something under whumpee's jaw.

- Whumpee opens their mouth to start yelling again, to start swearing, anything! Because it's all the control they have left. Their only outlet in this moment of brain shattering terror. But nothing happens. Not a sound come out of their trembling lips.

- whumper just laughs. "I do so love the mute feature."

Obviously there's more:

- whumpee being under some form of control depending on how much of them is mechanical

- now they are more machine than person, they aren't a person. The laws regarding the rights of sentient beings don't protect them anymore. No one is going to help them.

- whumper pulling back one of their panels and invading with cold fingers and carelessness into whumpees innards. Wires occasionally spark sending jabs of pain through whumpee that they cannot stop.

- being partially shutdown and completely immobilized.

- say whumpee does escape or maybe has a second to themself to finally process this. They cannot cry. Their eyes are photo sensors and lenses there are no tear ducts. Everything is just compressing in their chest as they try to survive this overwhelming heart crushing wave of fear and helplessness. (Factor in perhaps they still can't talk).

[cozzzynook]

Emergency ask!!! Just had to have my cat euthanized, vets still have no idea why they went downhill so fast. Can we have some comfort via carrier Perceptor with sparkling Hot Rod.

I’m so sorry this happened. Praying for you 🙏🏽

“Shh, sweet flame, it’s okay. I’m here now, I have you,” Hot rod was a sweet bitty, he truly was.

He was the best sparkling he could ever hope to ask for. He didn’t cry unless he needed his spark medicine and he only whined and fussed kicking his arms and legs when he was hungry or needed changing.

Just like always, the moment Hot rod felt Perceptors em field and spark pulse he stopped crying and wiggled his frame. Trying to get to his carrier the only way he could until Perceptors servo’s lifted him from the crib and he was resting on his carriers chassis. Receiving kisses on his helm as he rubbed himself against his carrier inhaling his scent, feeling at home again.

His tiny servos gripped what he could of Perceptor and accepted the pacifier his carrier slipped into his intake.

He felt soft digits feeling along his exposed spark chamber covered in wired and medical tape and he sighed feeling his optics droop when the wire that needed changing was removed.

He felt a little pull on his spark before it was relieved of all tension as a new wire was put in place and his carrier was cooing at him.

“My brave little sweet flame, you did so well, yes you did,” his carrier affirmed when he looked up at him with cloudy optics that were beginning to understand colors but still too young to grasp shapes.

All he knew was that his carrier was here and that was reason enough for him to smile.

He smiled often because he was truly his carriers creation and as his creation he was smart enough to understand many types of em fields. The one he felt most was happiness and he made sure his carrier gave off the pleasant feeling as much as he could.

His carrier was so warm and wonderful, he couldn’t help but want him to feel the same.

In his bitty brain they were one and it only made sense to want a part of himself to be happy.

“My little sunflame, I have a treat for you,” his carrier smiled and kissed his olfactory sensor making him sneeze a little. His optics were hanging low as he looked at Perceptor and it made the mech have cuteness aggression.

As Perceptor came to the kitchen he was greeted to Brainstorm immediately putting away whatever dangerous project he was working on. In favor of greeting him and his sparkling the mech has taken a ring to calling his own as well.

“Darling, I see our sparkling is awake and wants you. Only fair. who wouldn’t want the most beautiful mech in the solar system?”

He blushed so embarrassed at Brainstorms choice of words, it made him flustered. An emotion his bitty rubbed his chin at with his helm while giggling as he dropped the pacifier that was caught on the frame link.

“You are insufferable,” Perceptor spoke as he grabbed the tiny cube of sparkling candy, it was homemade and not as sweet as the regular batch. Hot rod couldn’t have things like that yet.

“And he’s not your bitty, he’s mine,” Perceptor flushed, sitting in the chair Brainstorm pulled out for him. He picked up a tiny cube that Brainstorm cut in half, the mech knew exactly how he wanted it down to the inch and centimeter and he nodded his thanks to him.

“Thank you, its perfect,” Perceptor was much easier to pull praise from when his bitty was involved and Brainstorm was the image of a mech floating in the clouds with how brightly he smiled and how wide his em field felt.

Hot rod noticed as he looked and waved a fist at him but Perceptor was too busy focusing on his one true love.

“Say ah, warm spark,” Roddy looked back to his carrier and mimicked him by opening his intake and tasting the treat.

He made a funny face at the texture but when it popped and melted in his mouth making him give off a surprised noise, he could taste the delicious treat and bounced in his carriers arms.

Swallowing, he opened his intake for another and happily accepted as he felt both em fields lift the room in an ocean of joy.

“Such a good bitty,” Perceptor kissed his cheek smiling at him. He allowing Brainstorm to lift Hot rod from his arms and nuzzle his helm. Hot rod never had a problem with Brainstorm but he didn’t stay with him for longer than five hours at most. Which was the longest he’d go to anyone who wasn’t Perceptor or Optimus who often came by so his bitty Bee could play.

“You loved our little cooking experiment, perfect. I can’t wait until you’re old enough to give feedback. Ooh I can’t wait until you know how to write. i’m going to get so many notebooks for our future scientist.”

Perceptor didn’t say anything, he just let Brainstorm feed Hot rod the new treat as he babbled to Hot rod all the things he wanted to do with him when he was older and more in Brainstorms comfort zone. He wasn’t going to tell the mech he was doing just fine now with the sparkling he truly saw as his own.

He didn’t want to trip Brainstorm up in a whirlwind of jumbled thoughts he hasn’t worked out yet.

He’ll just let the mech do his thing as he enjoy’s watching him be a wonderful, genuine sire to their sparkling.

[glitterguts13]

Gallagher/Boothill, with Boothill in denial he's in labor while Gallagher is trying his best to make Boothill comfortable for the upcoming birth

(I hope that makes sense ;;)

Y'all are really craving pregnant Boothill (same tho Jesus Christ that man does something to my brain) TW: slight body horror

In all truth, Boothill wasn't completely aware of what his body could and couldn't do these days. The scientist that turned him into...whatever this was, didn't exactly leave him with an instruction manual. He learned the hard way he still needed to eat and drink, it went out the way it did before, but he couldn't taste anything that passed his lips.

He could feel it when someone touched his arm, but it was dull and muted, pain only registered when something either got ripped off or shot through, so when he woke and himself nearly doubled over in agony, concern rattled through him. However, the pain fades as quickly as it came, so Boothill does what he did best, ignores it.

As the day goes on, the pain comes and goes in waves, distracting him from work and making him miss his targets. Whatever connection was lost, or the broken sensor that was acting up, wasn't going away but getting worse.

Tomorrow, he'd find a mechanic and get it fixed tomorrow. Tonight, he wanted a drink and a strong one at that.

The bar is tucked away, but whispers on the street talked about how good it was. He didn't need anything fancy, just whiskey and some peace and quiet.

"What can I get for ya?" the man behind the bar is older, rough around the edges with tired eyes. Boothill sits atop the barstool with some effort, biting back a groan as the pain shoots through his gut and down his leg.

"Whiskey. Straight." the bartender doesn't make any further comment, and pours the glass. Boothill knocks it back in one go, slamming the glass on the counter and demanding a second.

"It's awful late, we're gonna be closing up here soon." the man comments, pouring the cyborg a refill.

"I'll get outta yer hair before then, just need something to hold me over." he knocks back the second glass, signaling for a third.

"Rough night?"

"The worst." the third glass goes down as fast as the first two, but this time he doesn't motion for a fourth. The buzz was hitting him, quicker than usual, but that was most likely because he hadn't drunk in months, the smell of it making him nauseous for who knows what reasons.

"You need a place to crash?"

"Got one. You know any mechanics around these parts?" the pain starts again, and this time, he can't hold back the hiss.

"A few," the old man stops, looks Boothill up and down, brow furrowing, "You need a mechanic or a doctor?"

Boothill opens his mouth to snap back something snarky, but the pain rips the breath from his artificial lungs and sends him toppling off the barstool.

"Fuck!" as if it wasn't bad enough something inside him was so broken it was making him feel like death, fluid was dripping down between his thighs. Wonderful, he was leaking now too.

"Come here." the bartender grabs Boothill by his arm and drags him off. Somewhere in the back, an employee lounge by the looks of it, and forces the cowboy to sit.

"'m fine old man, don't worry 'bout me." he goes to stand back up, but the pain knocks him right back down.

"I ain't worried about you," the old man hisses, "I'm worried about your baby."

The laugh that jumps from Boothill's throat startled the old man into jumping.

"You blind old man? I ain't exactly made of flesh and bone, ain't no part of me was made for having babies 'n shit like that." it would have been hilarious if the pain cramping up inside his gut wasn't making his heart rate skyrocket and his warning sensors go off in the corners of his vision.

"I've seen this shit before, besides, what do you call that?" the old man motions to the soft swell in Boothill's belly. It hadn't been there when he'd awoken, but as his body broke down and grew damaged, it wasn't exactly shocking that parts of him would dent and warp over time.

"Seriously old man, knock it off. 'M body can't have no baby. I ain't got the parts for it-" The pain all but sends him to his knees, a blinding flash of white behind his eyes.

"You sure about that?"

No, he wasn't sure at all. He didn't know what those scientists did or didn't leave inside of him when he'd been 'reborn.'

"Pretty sure."

"How long have you been in pain?"

"Since this morning." the bartender curses under his breath.

"Lay down. I'll get you some water." Boothill wants to protest, but the pain won't let him, so he lies down. One hand slid down over his belly, the hard metal had very little give to it, but it certainly was far more swollen than he remembered it being weeks ago.

Setting a glass of water nearby, the old bartender crosses his arms.

"What's your name."

"Boothill. You?" sucking in a breath, the cyborg presses his face into the pillow under him.

"Gallagher. I don't know any doctors that can tend to someone like you-" he's cut off when Boothill lets out a startled shriek.

"FUCK!" pulling his legs back, Boothill ran a trembling hand through his locks.

"Goddamn it." Gallagher rubbed his face, "I don't know anything about delivering babies."

"I'm not fuckin pregnant ya lunati-" the words cut off, the artificial heart in his chest pumping over time, fans whirling to keep him from overheating. Something hard was pushing at his 'backdoor' and finally, it clicked.

"Holy shit I'm having a baby-"

Gallagher rolls his eyes, "Yeah, good on you for figuring it out." without another word he takes up the position at the end of the sofa, all but prying Boothill's metal legs apart.

"Goddamn- yeah, something's coming out all right."

Boothill shouts, throwing his head back against the pillow and pushing. He wasn't sure what he was pushing, his muscles didn't contract like a human's did, but this pathetic replacement for an organic frame was telling him to do something and he had to listen.

"...your blood."

"Fuck!" Boothill gasps, "It's blue!"

Gallagher moves his legs further part, face contorted in disgust as something slides out of the cyborg. He quickly places it onto Boothill's chest, backing up as if unsure he should even be looking.

"Holy fuck-" fans whirling in his ears, the edges of his vision flickering black as he stared down in shock at the infant on his chest. Overed in blue blood and various other inorganic fluids, the newborn bawls, squirming angrily.

"I shouldn't have- I can't-"

"Hey, take it easy." Gallagher pats his arm gently, "You can rest here till you figure things out."