#cyborg's writing

[cy-cyborg]

Free Manual Wheelchair Reference Models

ID: A banner with grey 3D models of 5 kinds of manual wheelchairs in a line in front of the disability pride flag and text that reads "Manual Wheelchair References" /End ID

For disability pride month, I decided to release a pack of 3D manual wheelchair models.

The pack includes 5 wheelchairs:

2 Active urban-style chairs (one of which includes a smart drive)

1 off-road active chair

1 children's wheelchair

and 1 standard "hospital" wheelchair).

All the wheelchairs are based off either wheelchairs I or friends of mine have used

Downloadable here!

or on the Clip Studio Paint Asset Store (ID 2097442) (there's been an issue with the CSP version, but the models in the download folder can be imported into clip studio paint until I can fix it)

More info about the download contents below:

The first download link includes the original .Blend file with all 5 chairs, as well as individual .obj or .fbx files the chairs (All but 1 have an .obj file, as they're only meshes. The chair with the smart drive is rigged, which is why it has an .Fbx file instead so it will retain that information) as well as a "read me" file that explains in more depth what kind of disability/character/lifestyle each chair is made for (These are just what I had in mind when I designed them, they are usable by other characters who don't fit the suggestions for the most part!) I wanted to include the Read Me contents in the CSP Asset Store listing, but CS said it was too long lol.

Also, as the title says, these files are free to use! While it's not mandatory, I would appreciate credit if you use them (or even just a tag so I can see the cool art you make with them!!)

I actually made these ages ago, the original plan was to use them in a series of posts then release the pack, but I never got around to making the series and so they've just been sitting here. I took a day off from art fight attacks to clean them all up and get them ready to post. If you experience any issues, let me know and I'll try to fix it up.

I had a couple more that were supposed to be in the pack including a sports (basketball/Tennis) wheelchair and some different styles of wheelchair, but I think the files corrupted so once I fix (or remake) them, I'll probably make a second pack.

If you have any issues, please let me know!

[microwavingfranky]

Where this goes, part 3.

Part 1 (Start), Part 2, Part 4

valid questions???

I love playing with silence in comics

[transmechanicus]

Cyborgs or robots being hung by their armpits during transport to indicate they aren’t seen as individuals, they are tools and weapons stored in racks like inanimate objects, maybe even force powered down during transport, only dropped to the floor before combat, clunking to the floor, steel feet on a steel grate, upper body hanging limp and unconscious as reactors increase power and optics and indicator lights blink on, soporifics flushing from brain tissue like sliding from beneath warm water into crisp cool air, augmetics clenching in predatory startup diagnostics, breath steaming in the chilled compartment, a corpse transformed in seconds into a hunting machine, yeah that’s really hot hagn on a secondt

[blazing-butterfly]

"I feel naked without my armor" was a joke until it wasn't.

Until you got caught in a large-scale breach while off duty, and had to evac with the rest of the civilians. Until you listened for command's orders in your ear but heard only crashing and screaming and the howling of monsters. Until you staggered disoriented through the streets, always looking in the corners of your eyes for a HUD that wasn't there. Until instead of your navigation marker, you saw a woman carrying her crying child, running as fast as she could with a beast snapping at her heels. Until on instinct you put yourself between it and her, figuring it was a lesser one you could take alone, forgetting how small and soft you were. Until your fist hit its face and it didn't even feel anything, but your fingerbones sure did. Until a backhanded swipe of its claw sent you flying across the street and into a wall with your jacket and chest torn open. Until it stalked towards you with hungry jaws and all you could do was pray the mother got away. Until three of your own squadmates dropped from the rooftop, armor gleaming and plasma rifles blazing, and gunned the beast down. Until you were lying in the hospital bed, looking at the paperwork for surgeries and implants you'd need anyway, and thought "why the hell not."

Now you stand head and shoulders over most humans and have to duck under doors. Now your footsteps clink on the floor and your muscles whir when you stretch. Now a heat sword that would crush a human weighs nothing in your hands. Now the laws are stricter about where you can go, and your limbs could be revoked if you're convicted of a crime. Now the oaths you kept in your heart are wired into your brain, and you can't disobey command even if you wanted to. Now your old squadmates still salute you but you technically count as a weapon, not a soldier. Now you can beat a lesser monster singlehanded and turn the tide against a greater one. Now adults awkwardly try not to stare, but small children run up and ask if they can touch your plating. Now everywhere you go, you're always scanning for potential threats, angles of attack, escape routes, cover, improvisable weapons. Now you'll be ready no matter when or where disaster strikes. Now when someone needs saving, you can do a lot more than just die in their place.

Now, even when you're naked, you'll never be without your armor.

(This was written by a transfem, TERFs fix your hearts or die)

[syoddeye]

woke up thinking about smasher-esque ghost. thank you early for fueling the cyberpunk/cod thoughts.

cw: noncon, aftermath of violence, mild gore, abduction

The street’s empty. Quiet, save for the scrape of your boots and the distant peal of a sirens. At this hour, the silence isn’t calming, it’s eerie. You almost wish some brainless jingle or blaring advert would cut through the stillness just to drown out the sounds your mind’s starting to invent.

Watson’s like that, you’ve learned.

As gutted and forgotten as the rest of Night City’s outskirts, but less-inhabited. Hollowed out. Still, when the corp ordered your transfer here, it was either pack your bags or termination. Not much of a choice.

You’re two blocks off your usual route, forced to detour after spotting the last people you wanted to cross—scavs, loading what looked like rolled-up bodies into a van. Just enough to make the alley you’re cutting through unfamiliar. The lights overhead flickering and dying in sickly yellow pulses.

The usual stench of garbage and factory smoke thins out, but something else takes their place. Acrid. Metallic. A lump tightens in your throat as firelight dances faintly off the corner up ahead. Your hand drifts toward the pistol holstered at your side.

You take the corner. Slowly. Carefully.

And there they are.

Maelstrom. What’s left of them.

Bodies crumpled in grotesque shapes. Implants torn from sockets, faces crushed like ceramic. Blood and something darker spill across the pavement in glistening pools, wrapping around twitching limbs and shattered optics. A jaw dangles off a hinge of sinew. A prosthetic leg driven clean into a concrete wall, as if hurled like a spear.

Then you name the smell—burned meat and cooked wiring.

You choke back a sound. Step back. Your boot drags through broken glass.

Your heart jumps into your throat. You try to breathe through it, try not to retch. You fumble for your gun, fingers trembling around the grip. You thought you’d be numb to this by now, but this? This isn’t another back-alley shootout. A Trauma Team scene. This is carnage.

You start backing up, retracing your steps—

And slam into something behind you.

Something solid.

You freeze.

When whatever it is doesn’t move, you slowly turn your head, and your mouth drops open.

A massive hand clamps around the back of your neck. Cold. Sticky. Strong enough to crush bone. The heat drains from your body, knees threatening to give out.

A bone-white faceplate stares down at you, blood-spattered and haloed in matte black chrome. Rust-colored optics glow deep in recessed sockets. You make out a thin strip of pale, naked flesh near the jaw, barely visible with your neck craned back as far as it’ll go.

The arm gripping you is the size of a light pole. Wires and hydraulic lines run thick along it, flexing with a mechanical hiss as he tightens his hold. Armor plates click and shift—streamlined, brutal, built for war.

His pupils dilate and shrink in rapid succession, the crawl of a scan dimly registering in the back of your mind.

He ducks his head before it’s over, and a blunt nose brushes your temple. You flinch, try to turn away, but he follows. Breathes you in. A low guttural sound rumbles from his chest as he exhales, hot air washing across your face. You realize your cheek’s wet—that you’re crying.

“Well, well,” he rasps. “Look what I’ve got ‘ere. You lost?”

You can’t get a word out. Just a choked, helpless sound.

He chuckles. Drags you backwards, boot-heels scraping, until you’re forced to face the massacre again. There’s a hiss as he stoops behind you, chin settling heavily on your shoulder.

“They ‘ad a bad night.”

His chest curves over your back like a wall. Broad. Unyielding. The sharp edges of his plating jab into your ribs, your hip, the soft underside of your arm. His other hand snakes around your middle, sliding over your trembling hands, locking over the pistol still gripped tight in your grasp. His fingers curl around yours.

You know in an instant that he could crush the metal and bones wholesale.

“You don’t want to join them, do ya?”

You whimper. Sniffle. Shake your head. You don’t want to die in this alley. You don’t want to be scav meat.

His faceplate presses to your cheek, humming with the vibration of his voice.

“‘Course not. Smart girl like you… Least, I assume, seein’ as you scan Zetatech.” A pause. “You are smart, aren’t ya?”

He squeezes, and pain flares through your hands.

“Y-Yes!” you gasp. “I’m smart! P-Please, I didn’t see anything—I swear, no one would believe me anyway!” You don’t fight, but your legs tremble so violently, it’s a struggle to keep your feet flat.

He coos, low and syrupy, and shifts his grip, sliding from your neck to your waist. One massive arm curls tight around you, pulling you flush to the bulk of him. His other hand steadies you, keeps you upright.

“There we go,” he coos. “No need for all that fuss.” He taps your fingers, still clinging to the pistol. “Let go of this silly thing, then. That’s it—good girl.” 

He pries the pistol from your loosened grip, promptly tossing it into the dark. It skids far out of reach, vanishing into the shadows.

“Now I don’t ‘ave to ‘urt ya.”

There’s a single bolt of relief, a weak and thready pulse of it, but enough. Your breath starts to level out, and you manage to swallow.

“T-Thank you. I-I can pay you. Everything in my account for letting me walk away.”

You don’t have much, but you doubt your life is worth more than a couple hundred eddies.

He’s silent for a beat, hands simply resting where they’re wrapped. 

Then, he moves. One hand shifts downward, dragging slow over your hip, curving along your upper thigh. His fingers dig into the flesh there.

“Mm, do I look ‘ard up for money, sweet’eart?” Synthskin fingertips sneak under the hem of your jacket, cold against your own. “Might be difficult to tell with how I’m built, but I’m definitely ‘ard up for somethin’.” The laugh that leaves him, blowing against your neck, is pure filth.

You whine when he takes handfuls of you at his leisure, spending several minutes groping over your clothes. When you think he’s taken the edge off for himself, he turns you to face him.

And now you see him properly.

He’s less humanoid than you imagined. And at his full height, he towers over you.

“Gonna take you ‘ome, pet,” he purrs. “See if the old man approves. Should, been in want of somethin’ soft for ages.”

Overhead, you catch movement—an AV gliding over the rooftops, silent until it lands on the street out of sight.

You shake your head. Can’t stop yourself, locked in disbelief.

“But I-I won’t tell anyone. I swear. No one would ever—”

“—believe you?” he finishes, mockingly gentle. “They wouldn’t.” His optics flick blue for half a second, receiving some comm, then back to red. He tilts his head. “We pay ‘em not to.”

You go still.

He watches you absorb it, lets it sink in, and then jerks his head in the direction of the street.

“Our ride’s ready. You walkin’ or not?”

It hits like a gut punch. This might be the last choice you get for a long, long time.

You walk. Anything to gentle what you know’s coming.

His strides eat the pavement, three to every one of yours. The sound of his feet betrays the truth of him. Even under custom-tailored gear, you hear the clomp of reinforced limbs, servos whirring with each step.

The AV doors open with a hiss.

He hauls you inside without ceremony, dragging you onto his lap. You’re forced to straddle the heft of his leg. It hurts to sit, your weight crushed against metal.

He notices your wincing and squirming.

“Not very comfy to sit on, am I?” he says, rubbing a hand along a thigh. “I’ll have Soap slap on some flesh when we’re ‘ome. Don’t imagine it’d be pleasant to bounce on me as-is, hm?”

He makes himself laugh again. You don’t look at him. Can’t.

Your eyes fix on the window instead, watching as the industrial sprawl of Watson blurs beneath you.

When his hands start to wander again, shoving under your shirt to play with your tits, he growls out the name you’re meant to whine. 

Ghost.

[love-marimo]

The Strawhats x Model!Reader (Modern AU)

Lolita's Note: these are really short. just a few (some are platonic and some are romantic) headcanons for the strawhats with a model (gender neutral) reader! a bit of suggestive stuff (mostly crack) on sanji, zoro and brook's. enjoy ♡

cw: mentions of smoking and drinking.

Franky

he's going to be SUUUUUPER supportive about your career.

i imagine him to be a mechanic/engineer in the modern au so your pairing is definitely unconventional

will develop an app that detects nearby castings when you're on the go.

and if he can sit somewhere in the audience during one of your shows, he's gonna put up a sign that says something like "I LOVE YOU MY SUPER HOT PARTNER"

will might get kicked out for obnoxiously cheering for you.

Usopp

he'll definitely think you're cool and will brag about you a lot to his peers.

so much so that he'll make up lies like you're also secretly the designer, or you're the highest paid model (even if you aren't).

he gets so mesmerized when he sees you walk in those pretty clothes and he will definitely take photos of you.

like a lot

will run a secret fan account that you will never find out and he'll brag about you lots on there.

Robin

this woman has connections. a LOT of it. she's the most likely out of all the strawhats to sit front row because of how many people she knows and she's affiliated with.

you both follow each other on instagram and people love to see what you two post. you're definitely a power couple, both online and offline.

your stories and feed will scream quiet luxury and glamour, and everyone is here for it.

she'll help you grow in your career and you might even rise to the top because of her.

she's like your manager and she'll do it for free just because she loves you so much.

Nami

you will be models together. period. no questions asked.

absolutely goes crazy during fashion week. she'll plan all your outfits a year ahead and she's very good at predicting trendy pieces in every. season.

will go with you to every casting and will not settle if the directors don't hire the both of you.

like robin, your online presence will scream power couple.

but the difference is you'll post a variety of things online.

one moment there's the baddest, coolest, and most amazing runway photos of you both and the next there is a video of you having the worst jet lag ever.

Jinbe (if he was human)

need a bouncer? say no more. he's got you covered.

this man will immediately know if there are sketchy people who pretend to do castings.

so you will go to him for advice about it especially when you're just starting out.

if you have an international gig, he'll pack you a lot of essentials (toiletries, medicine, staple clothes, you name it) and he'll be your personal body guard until you reach the airport.

make sure to send him photos, he'll definitely collect those and all the magazines that has you in it.

Luffy

do not bring him to an hour long fashion show, or his restless ass won't take it.

that said, he's also going to be very supportive even if he doesn't understand and relate to your kind of work.

he's the type to wait for your turn and then leave once he knows you're not gonna show up anymore.

will go 0o0 every time he sees you in designer clothing. and he will ask for a photo before you set out to stage.

he's so oblivious that there was one time where he innocently and confidently asked the designer themselves to take a photo of you.

you were definitely scared of being reprimanded and black listed.

luckily his child like charm lets the both of you get away with it.

Chopper (if he was human)

poor baby, he's going to be so confused.

he has no idea how the modeling industry works but he tries his best!!

will get lost in thought, admiring all the models (especially you) who wear the most unbelievable and extraordinary (to his eyes) pieces he's ever seen.

he's that little brother who claps and goes starry-eyed even if he doesn't know what's going on.

in his head he's like "cool cool cool cool!!!"

if he catches you smoking backstage he gets angry, and the other models will find that cute.

the thing is though, he's so well versed in medicine that he convinces all of you to stop smoking.

Sanji

oh boy.

this man is even worse than franky

he's not gonna scream or whistle or do loud things in a regular show (rtw or haute couture)

but! BUT

this man will get a sensory overload and will collapse.

do not invite him to a bikini/swimsuit show.

also runs a fan account about you and is SHAMELESS about it.

he will post the most out of pocket captions that you have to take his phone away for a week.

Zoro

this man is so fine that underwear and fitness companies want to hire him.

he is not interested. he'd rather see you model for a bikini/swimsuit calendar (which he'll definitely buy)

will also be your personal bodyguard. and he'll be secretly happy about it.

prefers to watch you model for photoshoots than walk the runway. he doesn't like waiting and he wants to focus on only you.

will be your personal errand boy and will take you out drinking after shows.

Brook (if he was still alive as a human)

this old man will either be the sound engineer, or the performer in one of your shows.

do not also take him to bikini/swimsuit shows or he will go around backstage reveling in all the panties he sees.

otherwise, he's pretty chill. he will socialize with other guests and talk about how pretty all the clothes are.

will also go to fashion week with you and get the attention of a lot of street photographers.

ー Lolita

[deuces-sunglasses]

Franky wanting to build a dishwasher for Sanji, and Zoro trying to interfere, because washing dishes with Sanji is his favourite part of the day.

[chibinasuu]

Matched | Franky x Reader

Summary: Franky gave you a new arm after you lost yours in a battle Tags: hurt/comfort, depictions of canon-typical violence, limb-loss, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

Steel clashed against steel as you desperately swung your sword, blocking the Marine Captain’s machete aiming for your neck.

You cursed loudly. You hated one-on-one combats. 

It had been quite some time since you joined the Straw Hats as a chronicler, tasked with recording all of your adventures in a logbook that you were sure would one day become an epic legend told for generations to come.

But despite all of the battles you’d gone through during your journey with the crew, you found that you never really got used to it. You weren’t a fighter to begin with and you tended to avoid violence as much as possible. 

You had gotten quite handy with a crossbow after extensive target practices with Usopp, but Zoro had insisted that you should learn short-range combat as well to defend yourself, just in case. 

Well, turned out he was right, because “just in case” was happening right now. 

Even after hours and hours of sparring with Zoro and Brook, the sword still felt awkward in your hands. You parried the Marine’s attacks, keeping your guards up. 

Defense, defense, and defense. That was all you had been doing. 

The Captain never let up his attacks, all of his moves going in for the kill. 

Your stamina was running out. Each swing of your sword got heavier and heavier. Your arms were just about to give up when… There. Finally an opening. 

You stepped your foot forward as you slashed your sword upward. The marine grunted as he stumbled backward, a deep gash now running from his abdomen to his left shoulder. 

Your triumph was short-lived as the Captain’s grimace turned vicious. He called you a foul name before surging toward you, swinging his blade in unbridled fury. 

His machete dug deep into the shoulder of your dominant arm, and you screamed in anguish as blinding pain overtook you. Your sword clattered to the ground. Blood gushed through the wound, but you refused to even look at it, knowing that you likely wouldn’t be able to stomach the gore. 

You could only lie on the ground in defeat, with no strength left in you.

This is it, you thought. All of your crewmates were busy with their own battles. No one was coming to save you.

The blood loss made your head spin, and you felt your consciousness fading fast. The last thing you saw was the Captain’s ferocious grin as he brought his blade down to finish you off. 

You were pretty sure you were hallucinating when you heard a distant shout of “Weapons Left!”

Right. It must’ve been just your wishful thinking that your knight in shining armor would come to your rescue. 

You felt your tether to life slowly draining away, then everything went dark.

Bits and pieces of conversation flowed through your ears as you slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Calm down, Franky… stable now… Chopper did everything he could.”

“…my fault. If only I had come earlier…“

You still felt disoriented when you finally regained your awareness for good. You tried to open your eyes, but immediately shut them again as the bright light of the infirmary invaded your vision. 

“You’re awake.” The familiar gravelly voice of your shipwright greeted you, accompanied by a long, shaky sigh of relief, “Let me grab Chopper.”

He was back in a flash with the ship’s doctor in tow. You were only half alert, lying still on the patient bed as Chopper listened to your heartbeat through his stethoscope, shone a light in each of your eyes, and did the rest of his mandatory checks.

When the doctor declared that everything seemed to be in good shape, Franky escorted the little reindeer out, muttering softly just out of your earshot, “You did well, bro. I’ll take it from here.”

Franky sat on a chair by your bedside, giving you a small smile, “Hey.”

“Hey,” You managed to croak out weakly, “What happened? How long was I out?”

“Well, we won the battle. You were heavily injured, but we managed to get you to Chopper in time.” He explained, “And you were out for three days—we’re well on our way to the next island now. The Marines’ backup gave up their pursuit yesterday after we used coup de burst to widen the distance.”

You took in his thorough explanation, but you couldn’t push away the nagging dread that he was still withholding some key details. 

Your instinct turned out to be right when he cautiously asked, “Are you feeling any pain in your shoulder?”

“No…” You said hesitantly. The last thing you remembered was an unbearable pain running down your shoulder through your arm, but now, you couldn't feel anything at all. Your heart sank as the worst thought crossed your mind. 

Your chest tightened as you quickly uncovered the blanket with your uninjured hand, and gasped in horror at the sight that greeted you.

Your breath came in quick and shallow as panic overtook you, hot tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Franky, my arm.” You wailed, “Where’s my arm?!”

Violent sobs racked you as you repeated the words over and over in shock and disbelief. Franky pulled you into a tight hug, gently stroking your hair as he shushed you, “I know, I’m sorry. Chopper did his best, but he had to make the hard decision. It was either your arm or your life.”

A million different emotions rushed through you—from fear to denial, to anguish and grief. Franky held you through it all. 

Your tears and snot were making a mess on his bare torso but neither of you cared. 

After what felt like hours, the steadiness of his strong hands around you slowly led you into a somber calmness. 

“Poor Chopper,” You mumbled into the cyborg’s chest, “He must’ve been a mess when he realized he needed to chop my arm off.”

Franky chuckled, “It’s so like you to think of others even in times like this.”

Amid the silence that followed, you couldn’t stop the creeping self-doubt that wormed into your head. 

You were the crew’s chronicler and now you had lost your ability to write. Even if you trained your non-dominant hand, it would be a good while until you would be able to write again. What use would you be to the crew if you couldn’t write? You’d just be deadweight to them. 

As if he could read your mind, Franky tipped your chin up with his fingers, “Hey, you know we wouldn’t love you less just because you had one less arm now, right?”

He held your face in between his large metal hands, forcing you to look at him as he firmly said, “This doesn’t make you less. You’re still our super chronicler no matter what.”

Your eyes flitted away from his intense gaze. You wanted to believe him. You knew his words rang true, but still, you found it difficult to accept. 

At your heavy silence, he added, “Maybe I can build you a voice-activated robot that could write for you. Or heck, you can dictate your words to me and I’ll write it for you.”

That actually managed to coax a small smile out of you, but it wasn’t long until your eyes were filled with fresh tears.

“I want to write again, Franky.” You said in a small voice as you buried your face in his chest once more, “With my own hand.”

He stroked your hair slowly, “Well, I can’t give you back your arm, you know that.” You felt a soft kiss on the top of your head before he continued, “But I can make you a new one, if that’s what you wish.”

You looked up at him, “You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you, sugar.” 

For the next few days, Franky locked himself up in his workshop, only coming out for meals and bathroom breaks. The guys noticed that he didn’t return to the boys’ quarters at nights, and they wondered if he was even sleeping at all. 

Meanwhile, you were steadily recovering under Chopper’s meticulous care. You could even bear the sight of your missing arm now without bursting into tears. 

The doctor helped you adapt to your non-dominant hand through small exercises like brushing your teeth, and feeding yourself the soup that Sanji made for you.

One night, you heard a knock on the infirmary’s door. 

“Come in!” 

Franky poked his head in and grinned, “How’s my favorite chronicler doing today?”

“Why, if it isn’t my favorite shipwright!” You chuckled, “I’m doing better, I guess.”

“I got a surprise for you,” He said as he entered the room. He was carrying a long item, wrapped in pristine sailcloth.

He sat by your bed and pulled the shroud away, unveiling what he had been tirelessly working on the past few days. 

The disembodied arm looked, for lack of better words, human. He got your skin tone exactly right, and when you ran your fingers over it, the surface felt eerily similar to human skin. The only part left bare was the shoulder joint.

Franky saw you eyeing all of the metal parts and wires sticking out of it.

“Ah, we can cover that up with the synthetic skin, once we attach it to you.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully, “Although I still need to figure out a way to make the covering easily removable, so we can do regular maintenance.”

He made a point by popping open the panel on his own red and bulbous shoulder. You stared in wonder at the complex wiring of the inside of his arm, marveling at the genius of this man in front of you.

You turned your sight toward the rest of him, for once taking in the various metal parts that made him, him. You never really bothered to scrutinize the details—it had never mattered much to you. For you, he had always just been… Franky. 

You traced your eyes over his mechanical arms and hands, the metallic parts that ran from the middle of his thighs down to his ankles, and of course, his cute metal nose that you just loved to press out of nowhere to mess with his hair.

You had never seen a more beautiful and magnificent man. 

Shame suddenly rushed through you for ever doubting yourself and thinking of yourself as less just because you lost an arm. Here was a cyborg standing before you, and yet you had never known someone more human than him.

You looked again at the prosthetic arm Franky made you, touched that he was doing all this for you.

“It looks amazing, Franky.” You told him as the tears you were trying to hold back finally spilled over and slid down your cheeks, “Thank you.”

“I’m super glad to hear that.” He grinned, "And don't worry, I'll figure something out for the shoulder. I promise, once it's attached, you won't even notice it's made out of metal."

You smiled softly at him, "Actually…”

Franky’s grin widened as he listened to your request, “Sure, doll. If that’s really what you want.”

Franky stood behind you as you stared at your reflection, admiring your new limb.

Your shoulder was now capped with a red, metal guard—easily removable for maintenance access, of course. A yellow stripe wrapped around the middle, with a star and “BF-14106” written on it in bold lettering. Franky had modeled it to fit the rest of the arm perfectly, tastefully compact and not bulky at all. 

You grinned and gazed into Franky's eyes through the mirror, “Look, we match.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

You admired the arm some more, before Franky turned you to face him, asking you to test out the motoric movements under his guidance.

He asked you to make a fist, then to open it, then to wiggle your fingers. He asked you to bend your elbow, to raise your arm, and then put it back down. A series of other movements followed until lastly, he offered you a quill and a parchment. You hesitated for a second, but took the quill at his nod of encouragement. 

Your whole body trembled—with nerves, yes, but mostly in excitement. 

You dipped the quill into the ink, then carefully guided it across the parchment to write your name. Your movement was slow and awkward, and your script was far from neat, but you couldn’t stop the tears of joy from flowing. With a bit of practice, you'd be ready to fill up your notebooks again with thrilling tales of the Straw Hats' adventures.

“Oh, Franky! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You leaped at him and he readily caught you. His laughter echoed alongside yours as he spun you around despite the tight space of the infirmary, only putting you down after nearly toppling Chopper’s chair over.

You grabbed his face in between your hands and peppered his cheeks with loud kisses.

At times like this, Franky wished he could switch off his receptors at will, because try as he might, he couldn’t prevent his whole face from going bright red at your affection. 

A few days later, Franky checked up on you in the library as you practiced your handwriting over and over again on a piece of parchment.

Your script had gotten much better, and gone was the awkwardness of using your new cyborg arm. As expected of Franky's handicraft, it truly felt as if it was your own.

"Hey," Franky called out, "Arm's okay?"

"It's perfect!" You beamed, "Thanks again, Franky. I owe you tons."

Franky shook his head and smiled softly, letting you know for the thousandth time that you didn't owe him anything.

Your eyes went to your shoulder, once again studying the "BF-14106" painted there. You had told Franky that you wanted the same markings as his, but he had chosen those numbers himself.

Your curiosity finally won out this time as you asked the cyborg, "Hey, Franky, if you’re BF-37, and General Franky’s 38, shouldn’t I be… BF-39? Why this long string of numbers? Do they mean anything?”

Franky looked away from you and rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, his face tinted with a pink hue, “Ah… it's a secret. I’ll tell you someday.”

Looking at his reaction, an inkling of what it might mean suddenly popped into your head. You felt your cheeks heat up as your mind connected the dots, but you stayed silent.

You’d wait until he was ready.

And when he was, and if it was indeed what you suspected, you’d readily say it back. 

a/n: this fic had been sitting in my drafts for months, but i finally decided to finish it in time for franky's birthday! i've been hesitant to share this fic since it's quite outside my comfort zone, and i'm still not confident that i was able to convey all the feelings properly, but i hope you enjoyed reading this anyway <3

╰┈➤ masterlist

[suguruslut]

Still not over how well characterized and balanced every character is portrayed in the Teen Titans 2003 series: every single Titan can be funny, dejected, serious, determined, silly, angry, optimistic, vulnerable and tough without major inconsistencies in their overall portrayals.

Huge props to the writers of that show who knew exactly how to give each Titan a realistic range of emotions without deviating away from their basic personalities--it's an extremely difficult feat to accomplish, depicting characters through many different phases and arcs while keeping them consistent, and they did it flawlessly.

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to curse your followers and mutuals.

[cy-cyborg]

Disability Tropes: The Perfect Prosthetic

[ID: A screenshot from the movie Nimona, showing Nimona, a small white girl with red hair, grabbing the right prosthetic arm of Ballister, a knight in black armour with black hair and light brown skin. He is holding a broken bottle in his prosthetic hand while Nimona admires his arm. Overlaid on the screenshot is white text that reads "Disability Tropes: The Perfect Prosthetic" /End ID]

In a lot of media, prosthetic limbs are portrayed as these devices that act as a near-perfect replacement for a character who has lost, or was born without a limb. So much so that in a lot of cases, the use of a prosthetic has basically no impact on the character beyond a superficial level or their appearance, or it's portrayed as something that's even better than the old meat-limb it's replacing. This trope shows up most often in Sci-fi, but it shows up in all kinds of stories outside of that, even otherwise very grounded ones!

If a story isn't depicting the loss of a limb as the be-all-end-all worst thing that can happen to a person, they almost always default to a perfect prosthetic, functionally curing the amputation with it. But the reality is that prosthetics are FAR from perfect, and as someone who has used them for their entire life I don't think they ever will be. Limb difference is still and always will be a disability, regardless of the prosthetics available, and this really isn't a bad thing.

Why is this trope so common?

I meant it when I said this is a really, really a common trope, so much so that the majority of the media I've seen with amputees and characters with limb differences that released in the last decade or end up using it. Even stories where becoming an amputee is treated like a fate worse than death, ironically, aren't excluded from this. I have a few theories as to why this has happened: The pessimistic answer is that it's easy. You get to have a disabled character and claim you have disability representation, without really having to do much extra work or research because most of your audience won't notice if you aren't accurate - in fact they kind of expect it. You also, for the most part, dodge the backlash other kinds of disability representation (or really any minority representation) usually get. The more optimistic reason is that, for a long time, amputees and people with limb differences (as well as a lot of other disabled people) were predominantly shown in media as sad, depressed and unable to do anything, very much falling into the "sad disabled person" trope. As a kid, this was really the only way I saw people like me on screen or in books. And so, the limb difference community pushed back against that portrayal and were pretty successful in changing the narrative in the public's eye. A little too successful. A lot of creatives were genuinely trying to do right by our community, listen and do better, but many simply overcorrected and instead ended up creating stories where prosthetics were essentially cures instead of the mobility aids they are. I also think the public's general lack of understanding about disability plays a roll in all this. There are a lot of people who, in my experience, believe that the more visible a disability is, the worse it is. Limb differences and amputations are very visible, but prosthetics, even those that aren't trying to be discreet, make them less so. While using a prosthetic is very, very different to a biological limb, you won't necessarily see how in a casual interaction with, say a co-worker or neighbor, especially because there is a very real stigma applied to people with limb differences to keep those things hidden from the public. There are other reasons too, such as the fact that a lot of creatives don't even consider the connection to real amputees when creating characters with robotic limbs in genres like sci-fi and some fantasy, so they never stop to consider that these tropes could be impacting real people. Amputees are also very frequently used in "inspiration porn" content that uses the angle that disabilities can be "overcome" with a good attitude, downplaying the way those disabilities actually impact us. The prosthetics industry - specifically the component manufacturers, often also push the idea of prosthetics being the only way to return to a "normal" life, both to the wider public and to people with limb differences and amputations (which can add to that sense of shame I mentioned when it doesn't play out that way for them). On top of that, I also think the recent increase in popularity of concepts like trans-humanism contributes to it as well. these movements often talk about robotic or bionic body parts being enhancements and "the way of the future", and I think people get a bit too caught up on what may be potentially possible in the future with the real, current experiences of people with "robotic limbs" aka prosthetics, now. There are also inherently disabling things that come with removing and replacing parts of your body, things that will not just go away with some fancier tech.

So How do you actually avoid the trope?

So, we have some ideas about why it happens, but how do you actually avoid the "perfect prosthetic" trope from appearing in your work? The most important thing is to remember that this is still a disability. The loss of a limb, even with the best prosthetic technology or magical item in the world, will always have some inherently disabling aspects to it - and this is not a bad thing. The key is to not over-do it, lest you risk falling into the old "sad disabled person" trope. So let's go over some of the ways you can show how your character's disability impacts them. You don't have to use all of these recommendations, just choose the ones that would best fit your character, their circumstances and your setting.

The prosthetic itself is just different

Probably the most important thing to address and acknowledge for prosthetic-using characters, is the actual ways in which the prosthetic itself is different from a biological limb, and the drawbacks and changes that come with that. For the sake of simplicity, I'm mainly going to focus on modern prosthetics here, but it's worth considering how to apply this your own, more advanced/fantastical prosthetics too. One major thing that most people writing amputees fail to acknowledge is that prosthetic limbs are not fleshy-limbs with a different coat of paint. They do the same basic thing their meat-counterparts do, but how they do it is often drastically different, which changes how they are used. A really good example of this is in prosthetic feet. There are dozens of joints in a biological foot, but most prosthetic feet have no joints or moving parts at all. Instead of having dozens of artificial joints to mimic the real bone structure of a foot, which are more prone to failure, require power and make the prosthetic much, much heavier for very little gain, prosthetic feet are often constructed from flexible carbon fiber sheets inside a flexible rubber foot-shaped shell. This allows the bend and flex those bones provide, without all the drawbacks that come from trying to directly mimic it. Making the sheets into different shapes makes them more ideal for different activities. E.g. feet made for general use, like walking around the city, are simple and light, shaped to encourage the most energy-efficient steps, while still allowing their users to do things like wear normal shoes. Feet made for rough terrain often have a split down the middle of the foot to allow the carbon fiber sheets to bend better over rocks when there is no ankle, and some newer designs also include a kind of suspension using pressurized air pulled from the prosthetic socket to allow some additional padding. Running feet have large "blades" made of these carbon fiber sheets to absorb more pressure when the foot hits the ground, and redirect the force that creates to propel their user forward as quickly as possible.

[ID: A photo of 4 prosthetic feet. On the left, the foot is covered with a black shoe, the one to it's right consists of a small, carbon fiber blade, split down the middle, in roughly the same shape and size as the previous foot. Next to the right is an even simpler and smaller carbon fiber foot with no split, and finally is a very short foot that is vaguely rectangular in shape. /End ID]

These are some of my own prosthetic feet I've had over the years. The two on the right are designed to be used by someone who is less mobile, and the ones on the left are made for someone who is more active. As my needs changed over the years, I've used different designs and styles, and keep the old ones since my needs do tend to fluctuate.

There are also robotic feet available that are designed as a kind of "all-purpose" foot that use an electronic ankle which more closely mimics a biological foot, but they are not very popular as the mechanism adds a lot of extra weight and it requires a battery and power to work, with many amputees feeling the jointless carbon fiber feet do a better job at meeting their needs. The same goes for arms and hands. "Robotic" hands that mimic a meat hand exist, but they aren't really that popular, even in places like Australia where the prohibitively expensive price tag isn't as much of an issue due to government programs that pay for the device for you. Instead, most arm amputees who use prosthetics that I know prefer simpler devices that do specific tasks, and just swap between them as needed, rather than something that tries to do it all. A big part of this is because the all-purpose hands can be clunky. they often require manual adjustment using the other hand to do simple things like going from holding a deck of cards to putting them down and picking up a glass of water, for example. The few that don't require that, I've been told, are often temperamental and don't actually work for every person with a limb difference.

Altered Proprioception

Loosing a limb is a big deal and this is always going to have an impact on the body in some way that won't be solved with a fancy piece of tech. One such example is how limb loss effects your sense of proprioception. This is your sense of where your body parts are in space. It's how you (mostly) know where your foot is going to land when you're walking, or how you're able to do things like lift up a glass of water without needing to actually watch your hand do it. Your brain does this by creating a mental map of your body, but this map doesn't get adjusted if you loose a limb. If that map doesn't accurately reflect your real body, you're not going to have an accurate sense of proprioception. This might look like a leg amputee being a bit less stable on their feet, or like an arm amputee needing to look at their arm or hand to be able to grab something with it. Those born without their limbs who take to using prosthetics often have a lot of trouble adapting, as their brains aren't used to having that limb in the first place, whereas an amputee's brain can sometimes be tricked into using their outdated body map to help them adjust to the prosthetic (though its impossible to line it up perfectly). Prosthetics that directly integrate with the nervous system, while rare, do exist, and even this direct connection doesn't completely erase this issue for reasons doctors aren't quite sure about. This is something that does become less of a problem with time. Eventually, someone proficient with their prosthetic will learn to compensate, but their sense of proprioception will never be 100% perfect. At the end of the day, no matter how it attaches, a prosthetic is still not a natural part of the body, and that will always cause some issues. It also means if they aren't practicing it all the time, they may have to relearn how to compensate for it.

Extra weight

You also have to remember that a prosthetic is not a natural part of the body, like we already talked about, and so no matter how good it is, your brain will most likely always interpret the weight of the prosthetic as something attached to you, not part of you. This means that, even though prosthetics are actually a lot lighter than biological limbs, they feel so much heavier. This is because, while a meat limb is heavier, a lot of that weight is from muscles which are actively contributing to the limb working, so it doesn't really feel like its that heavy. When you have less of your meat-limb though, you have even less muscle to work with to move this big thing strapped to it, so it feels heavier. The more of the limb you've lost, or just didn't have, the heavier the prosthetic has to be, and the less muscle you have left to move it. It's for this reason that a lot of amputees and people with limb differences get tired faster when using prosthetics. Some of us are fit enough where you almost wouldn't notice the extra effort they need to put in, but once again, just because you can't see it from the outside, doesn't mean it's not an issue.

Avoiding Water

Most prosthetics also aren't waterproof, and so prosthetic users have to be very careful about when and how they come into contact with it. For amputees with electric components, contact with water at all will likely damage the device. This can even include especially heavy rain, something I was told to avoid when I got my electronic knee prosthetic and something I assume would also apply to arm amputees with complex, electronic hands. For those with non-electronic prosthetics, water can be hazardous for different reasons. If the prosthetic has metal components, water may cause them to rust, especially if it's salty water. Other prosthetics have foam covers to give the illusion of a limb with the general shape of muscles and fat, but these covers do not come off, and if they get wet enough that water seeps all the way through, it is very hard to dry it and they may become moldy. Finally, cheaper modern prosthetics may also float. Many are made of very light-weight materials and some have pockets of air trapped inside them. For leg prosthetics in particular, this means a user might, at best, struggle to swim with them on, but at worst, may get flipped upside down and become trapped underwater - something that happened to me as a very young child. On the flip-side, older prosthetics were usually made of heavy materials like wood or steel, and so had the opposite problem, acting like a weight and pulling a person down if they were to wear them in the water. Water-safe prosthetics do exist, I had a pair of prosthetic legs as a teenager that were hollow, and designed especially for me to swim with fins on when swimming in the ocean, and Nadya Vessey, a double leg amputee in New Zealand even got a mermaid-tail prosthetic made especially for use in the water. Most amputees though just swim without any prosthetics at all, and in 99% of cases, this is the easiest and safest way to go.

Prosthetic-Related Pressure Sores and Pain

Many people with limb differences also experience pressure sores from their prosthetics. Modern prosthetics typically attach to the body using a socket made of carbon fiber or fiberglass, held on either by pressure, using a vacuum seal or through a mechanical locking system built into the socket. No matter the specifics though, the socket has to be very tight in order to stay on, and this means that extended periods of use can lead to rub-spots, blisters and pressure sores. Many socket prosthetics also use silicone liners to add extra padding, but this means wounds caused by the pressure can't breathe, and bacteria in sweat has nowhere to go, meaning if the person doesn't rest when one of these wounds occur, it can very easily and quickly turn into a serious infection. In a properly fitting prosthetic, used by someone who has fully adjusted to them, this doesn't happen often, but it is something most amputees and people with limb differences have to at least be mindful of. Some new prosthetics use a different method of attachment, called Osteointegration - where the prosthetic attaches to a clip, surgically implanted into the person's bones. While Osteointegration avoids many of the issues like pressure sores that come from a socket, they have their own issues: mainly that they are incredibly expensive, and as of right now, have a pretty high failure rate due to the implant getting infected. Because the implants are directly connected to the bone, these infections become very serious very quickly. Many people with Osteointegration limbs have to be on very strong medication to keep these infections at bay, and they are generally considered unsuitable for anyone who is going to regularly come into contact with "unclean" environments.

Maintenance

[ID: A screenshot of Winrey, from Full Metal alchemist Brotherhood, a white woman with blond hair hanging out the sides of a green hat. She is measuring a piece of metal from a prosthetic she is making while Ed, the prosthetic's owner, gives her a thumbs up in the background. /End ID]

Finally, prosthetics also require maintenance from a specialist called a prosthetist, and they don't last forever. Some parts, like a foot or hand, can be reused over an over, but the sockets of a prosthetic need to be completely remade any time your body changes shape, including if you gain/loose weight, you start experiencing swelling, or you're just a child who is growing. Children in particular need new prosthetics every few months because they grow so fast, and as such, their prosthetics have to be made with this growth in mind. If they go too long without adjustment or an entirely new prosthetic, it can seriously impact the child and their growth but even small adjustments can be costly, depending on where you live. While prosthetics are built to be sturdy and reliable, they need a lot of work to stay that way. The more complex the prosthetic, the more work is needed. Complicated electronic components may need to have regular maintenance done by your prosthetist or even the specific component's manufacturer, and depending on where you live, this might mean having to send your prosthetic limb away for this to be done. While my prosthetist technically has the skills and knowledge to do the maintenance on my electronic knee, for example, the manufacturer forbids anyone not from their company to provide this service, meaning my leg needs to be shipped off to Germany once every few years if I want to keep the warranty. This has the unfortunate side effect of sometimes your limbs getting lost in postage (shout-out to Australia Post, who lost mine twice), meaning it can be months before you get it back or get a replacement. Usually, you'll be given a replacement in the meantime if you need it, but walking on a leg that isn't yours, even when its correctly fitted, always feels a bit weird (maybe that's just me though).

Not every difference is Inherently Negative

We've talked about some of the negatives that come from having a prosthetic, but not every difference is negative or even really that big of a deal. In fact, often times, it's these little moments in the depiction of a disability that go the furthest and make it feel the most genuine. My amputations effect me from the moment I wake up, to the moment I go to bed, but that doesn't mean every single way it impacts me is always inherently bad or negative. For example, back when I was working a normal job and going to university, I would often come home, throw my legs off at the door with the shoes still attached and get into my wheelchair, the same way you might throw your shoes off after work and replace them with comfy socks and other comfy clothing. This is something I've only ever seen on screen once, with Eda from the Owl House (and she wasn't even an amputee yet, her limbs were just detachable)

[ID: an screenshot of Eda from the owl house, a very pale woman, laying on the couch in a bathrobe, her hair in a towel. She has taken her actual legs off, throwing them to the other side of the seat. /End ID]

After that, my day mostly looked the same as most other people working a 9 to 5, I'd make myself dinner, watch some TV or play some games, maybe do some extra work at my desk or chat with friends. The only difference is that it would all be from a wheelchair, mainly because my prosthetics were heavy and it was just easier to use the chair around the house. The fact my afternoon and evening routine was done from a wheelchair wasn't a bad thing, it was just different. Likewise, I also don't sleep or shower with my prosthetics on, for the same reasons most other people wouldn't take a shower or sleep in thigh-high, steel-capped boots. In your own stories, this might look like giving your characters similar alterations to how they go about their day. Let them take their arm or leg off when they're resting or relaxing, show them taking a few minutes longer to get ready because they have to put it back on, show them doing some things without it. Arm amputees in particular tend to get very good at going about their days without their arm prosthetics, and leg amputees often either learn to get around more relaxed spaces like their homes using a different mobility aids like wheelchairs or crutches, or just through hopping if that's something they're physically able to do. Even when everything is going well and working as intended, your limb-different character won't wear their prosthetic 24/7, no matter how much they love it. There doesn't have to be something wrong with it or painful about it to not want it glued to them at all times, just like you can love a pair of big heavy boots but not want them on when you're trying to sleep. For more action-focused stories, being an amputee, also changes things like how you fight. The specifics will vary from person to person, but for example, when I did Hap Ki Do, a Korean Martial art, my instructor heavily modified when I learned what techniques. Beginner-level kicks and most leg attacks were impractical for me, as the force from the kicking motion would usually cause one of my legs to fly off. I also couldn't jump very well, due to some complications with my original amputation that made my stumps too sensitive to withstand the force of landing again. So I ended up learning a lot more upper-body attacks much earlier than it is typically taught. By the time I got my green belt, I was practicing upper-body techniques usually saved for black belts - including weapons training that I could use my secondary mobility aids for, like crutches and my cane in a bad situation. Many holds that rely on creating tension in your target are also less effective on amputees, because either the anatomy that causes those holds to be painful just simply isn't there, or the body part in question can just be removed to escape. Whether we're talking about the negative things, or just neutral differences that come with using prosthetics, you don't want to go too far with any one example. The key is to strike a balance. Of course, the old writing advice of "show don't tell" also applies here. It's one thing to tell us all of this stuff, but unless we actually see it play out, it won't mean much.

How NOT to avoid the trope

Before we move on, let's focus for a moment on some common things I've seen that you SHOULDN'T do as a way to get away from the trope.

The Enhanced Prosthetic

A lot of sci-fi in particular will take prosthetic limbs, make them function exactly the same as a biological limb, but add something extra to it. This does change the way the prosthetic functions and is used, but it usually still ignores the actual disabling parts of having a prosthetic. A really good example of this can be seen in pretty much any futuristic setting, but personally, I think Fizzeroli, from Helluva Boss is the best one to demonstrate what I mean. Fizz is a quadrilateral, above knee/above elbow amputee with highly advanced prosthetics that function, more or less exactly like the limbs he lost, but with the added benefit of being super-stretchy. Fizz is an acrobat and a clown in service, at least initially, to Mammon, one of the Seven Deadly Sins. These prosthetics help him perform and we even do see how they change little things like how he walks and just goes about his day, but the show still treats them like natural arms and legs, but better. 

[ID: A screenshot of Fizzeroli from Helluva Boss, a white-skinned imp with 4 black, prosthetic limbs, dressed in teal a nightgown as he lays in bed, reading from a list /End ID]

We see that he never takes them off, even when sleeping, and when he needs to use them as regular arms and legs, they do everything he needs, perfectly fine - at least when they're working correctly. The only time he ever even takes them off or has any issues with them, is when they break in season 2. The word amputee is never used to describe him, as far as I remember, and the fact he is one never really comes up at all, except for when they break or when the story focuses on how he lost them. Which brings me to my next point.

The Glitchy/Broken Prosthetic

One way I see people try to avoid the perfect prosthetic trope, is to take the prosthetic and break it or otherwise make it unreliable by having it malfunction, but not really changing anything else. This approach is heading in the right direction but still kind of misses the point of the criticism a lot of limb different folks have with the depictions of prosthetics in the media. Yeah, prosthetics do break down and some do require extra maintenance, but if your character's prosthetic is still exactly the same as a biological limb (or even better, in the case of the "enhanced prosthetic") when it's not broken, and the only time their disability is treated like a disability, is when it breaks, you're not really addressing the issue. Real prosthetics, like we discussed, even when functioning at 100%, exactly as the manufacturer intended, don't function the same as a meat-limb. They are fundamentally different, and the glitchy/unreliable prosthetic completely ignores all of that. Once again, Fizz is a really good example of this - the only time his prosthetics are not perfect, is when they break or are malfunctioning (despite the criticism, I do genuinely love Fizz as a character, but he unfortunately does fall into a lot of disability tropes).

[ID: Another screenshot of Fizzeroli, this time in a torn up jester outfit, looking down, panicked, at his prosthetic arms which are fully extended and laying motionless on the ground, with his left arm visibly short-circuiting with electricity around it. /End ID]

Now this isn't to say you can't have your character's prosthetics break down or malfunction at all. just that this shouldn't be the only way you differentiate the prosthetic from a biological limb. You should also be mindful of how or why they're breaking. A typical prosthetic isn't going to break down randomly from normal use unless something is very, very wrong or your character just has a terrible prosthetist (which unfortunately, does happen). You might experience issues if you try to make the prosthetic do something it just wasn't designed to do, or expose it to something it wasn't designed to deal with though (e.g. submerging an electronic prosthetic in water and trying to use it to swim).

Just add Phantom Pain

Another common pitfall I see when people are trying to avoid the perfect prosthetic trope, is to just give the character in question phantom pain - which is a side-effect of amputation where your brain's mental map of the body doesn't acknowledged you lost a limb. Your brain tries to fill in the gaps, since there is no signals coming from that part of the body anymore, and assumes either something must be wrong and so you should be in pain, even when you actually aren't. Alternatively, it can also happen when your brain was so used to feeling pain from that area before, in the case of people who had chronic conditions before they lost their limb, that it just keeps remaking those old signals itself. Like the broken/glitchy prosthetic approach, this also doesn't really address the issue with the perfect prosthetic trope, because it has nothing to do with the prosthetic itself. Phantom pain doesn't come from the prosthetic, nor does it effect how they're used, and so including it doesn't really address the issue of the prosthetic being functionally the same as the original, biological limb. This isn't to say that you shouldn't include phantom limb sensation or pain as something your character experiences, but just keep in mind that, when used on it's own, it doesn't counter the trope. Also, just be sure to do your research, everyone's experience with phantom pain is different and it's not something everyone with a limb difference even experiences.

Why is this trope even a problem?

Alright, so we know what the trope is, we know why it became so prevalent, ways to avoid it and also how not to avoid it. All good information, but why is this trope even bad? Why should you try to avoid it? Outside of just wanting to portray a real disability that effects real people more accurately in your creations, the prevalence of this trope actually contributes to a lot of real-world issues, especially when it's as overused as it currently is. I've talked before about "the jaws effect" - where the depiction of something in the media, especially something that the public is widely uneducated on, influences how people see it in real life. The Jaws effect specifically referred to how the popularity of creature-feature movies featuring sharks, like Jaws, caused the belief that sharks were monstrous killing machines to become much more wide-spread, even going so far as to influence decisions about laws and policy surrounding real-life shark preservation and culling in some parts of the world. But sharks aren't the only thing this has happened to.

Disabled people are so thoroughly misunderstood by wider society, that when tropes like this one become popular, people can and often do start to believe the misinformation they spread - in this case, believing that our prosthetics are a perfect replacement for a biological limb, and that getting a prosthetic means you're not disabled any more. While this can be annoying and cause small scale issues for some of us, like people giving us a hard time for using disability accommodations we very much need, it can also impact us in systemic ways too. If the wrong people believe these tropes, it can and does have a very real impact on the lives of disabled people through things like changes to policies to make it harder for amputees and people with limb differences to access financial assistance for other things outside of our prosthetics we may need assistance with.

Conclusion

Despite the very real harm tropes like this can do when it's overused, I don't think it should go away entirely. Some of my favourite pieces of media even use the perfect prosthetic trope and there are even some kinds of media where I even think it's somewhat unavoidable. Characters with perfect prosthetics in kids media in particular, especially when talking about side characters, can help to correct some of the other stereotypes kids may have seen elsewhere - such as prosthetics being "creepy" or "scary" - in a way that is casual and easy for them to understand. The problem with the trope, in my eyes, is it's excessive overuse. It's the fact that it seems to be the only representation amputees and people with limb differences are getting now. Not every story with a limb-different character can or even should delve into the reality of what using prosthetics is actually like, but we need at least some stories that do, without it being this majorly depressing thing.

[zealfruity]

I love my slay disabled emo cyborg murder spec-ops boyfriend

[transmechanicus]

Eternally fascinated with the concept of robotic necromancy. Some army rolls out new spinal implants and exoskeletons for their troops to make them punch above their weight. On their first deployment they all get massacred, absolutely shredded by machine gun fire. Then there’s a whir of servos and the scrape and crunch of grinding bone and they all get back up. They stagger on broken legs or crawl on all fours like predatory beasts, cameras and optics glowing inside the hollows of half exposed skulls. They aim weapons with jerky robotic movements, dependent on automated target recognition and calculated firing. The armor casing of their mechanical spines and brain stem puppets them across the battlefield to complete the programmed objective post-mortem, the service of their viscera extracted long after each individual’s death. Would be very creepy n cool is all i’m sayin.

[blazing-butterfly]

"Ancient weapon passed down through generations" trope for an older living weapon. Lined face, silver hair, walks with a sword cane, but just as strong as in her prime. Whenever a flesh part starts wearing out she swaps it for metal and keeps going. Your great-grandmother was her first wielder, and the love between them was so strong that four generations later she's still protecting your family. When you came of age, she knelt before you and ceremonially chose you as her new wielder.

(This was written by a transfem, TERFs fix your hearts or die.)

[cyborgized]

Artists Pekka and Teija Isorättyäs' made a Charles Bukowski robot that drank beer and spoke.