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so ffxiv has this beloved meme

and a cn player actually put this to the test (thankfully with homemade ballistic gel, NOT with their actual butthole) and they even [ documented it here ] and i can't stop laughing

had a dream that someone suggested the best gender neutral form of address would be Mþ (pronounced Myth) and i immediately said "mith me with that gay shit HEYOOO" and woke up at 4:30am hanging sideways off of my bed

mech pilot who got separated from their mecha when their civilisation was domestication and their military got dissolved. despite all attempts to help them, they still have persistent phantom sensation from the limbs that they used to have but no longer do; constantly missing the feeling of a rifle in hands that don't feel the right size, feeling blind and deaf without all of the enhanced feedback from sensors capable of a hundred times greater acuity than their own body

eventually, however, one particular affini reads their medical file and comes up with an idea. she files a notice of intent on the pilot, then swiftly heads over to their hab and whisks them away the next morning. they don't even bother resisting; having long since given up hope that things will get better, and unable to imagine any way they could get worse

the affini takes them home and lays them down on a surgery table, promising them that soon, everything is going to feel right again. they expect nothing, presuming her to be lying to them, but they feel a great weight behind their eyes, and a moment later, they fall closed.

it feels like they've only blinked, but when they reopen them, everything is different. every sense that was missing is suddenly there again. they look down at their arms to find them just the right size; their body no longer one of flesh, but of gleaming white metal plates, pulsating with thin green lines of a material they don't recognise. it takes them a moment to realise what it is: under their metal skin are muscles and tendons made out of vines, their former optical sensors replaced with sight blossoms, and their rifle woven back together from a mixture of bark, chambered with rounds made of amber

most of all, they are no longer alone. they could feel their mech before, but it's different this time; as if the sensation surrounding them isn't quite their own, but a body that is both theirs and not. a faint, slow pulsing that shifts in time with every movement, guiding them to know exactly where to look, and what to do. moments later, they hear a voice whispering- not into their ear, but directly into their mind, just like their onboard AI used to:

"Good morning, my precious little Pilot."

just made the best non-looping gif i think

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(Tagging with as many medias as I can remember so it gets to more fandoms)

Mech handler hearing the new pilot instinctively talk about her mech in first person, as if it were "herself," and looking at her with a mix of sorrow and excitement because oh, this one has the talent. The handler has seen this kind of pilot only a few times before, and knows commanding her will be the highest, heaviest honor. Only by becoming one with their mech can a pilot reach the height of their skills, and it comes so naturally to her. She's going to be magnificent, dancing across the battlefield to a song of clashing blades and cannon fire, a presence that graces friend and foe alike by lifting them from the grit and making them, if only for a moment, part of something sublime. And she will never stop, never retire, never refuse a mission, never again know lasting peace, because her art is war and this performance only ends when the dancer is dead.

Ask me how you can switch from short king to tall king with nothing but a hex wrench.

Limb Loss Boss