#Android Seventeen

[sweetescapeartist]

☯ YIN-YANG TWINS ☯

This thought came about from doing more research on Krillin's spiritual power-up in DBS & I looked at art of No. 17 & No. 18 made by Toriyama.

In the manga & anime, 17 has black hair, but Toriyama gives 18 white hair/platinum blonde hair in the manga.

Then, my mind gets to thinking...

Identical twins 👥 (meaning they came from the same egg)

Male & female ♂️♀️

Black & white ⚫⚪

Yin and Yang ☯

So, now let's examine the cyborg twins and their artificial connections to yin-yang

Artificial Human No. 17 ⚫

Yin is associated with negative, dark, passivity, feminine, earth, the tiger, & the color orange.

NEGATIVE: No. 17 is more mischievous & expresses negativity more than his twin.

DARK: No. 17 has dark hair & his skin tone is slightly darker than 18's in the manga.

PASSIVITY: No. 17 took his time and made detours on his journey to Goku so that 16 could complete his directive.

FEMININE: No. 17 has a "feminine" appearance to him.

EARTH: No. 17 was on the Earth when he was revived at the end of the Cell Saga & he later became a park ranger looking after nature.

THE TIGER: The closest connection I can think of to a tiger for No. 17 is he has orange & black clothing that he first appeared in. However, him becoming a park ranger as he looks over & protects animals, he is a "king of the beasts" in a way similar to the tiger representing that due to the pattern on the tiger's forehead resembling the Chinese symbol for king 王. The tiger also represents protection and No. 17 protects the animals of the island.

ORANGE: No. 17 wore an orange bandana around his neck in DBZ (red sometimes in the manga) & an orange arm sleeve in DBS.

Artificial Human No. 18 ⚪

Yang is associated with positive, bright, activity, masculine, heaven, the dragon, & the color azure.

POSITIVE: No. 18 shows more compassion than her twin who is less expressive in a positive way.

BRIGHT: No. 18 has white hair (in Toriyama's art) & her skin tone is lighter than No. 17's in the manga ('bout the same color in the anime).

ACTIVITY: No. 18 wanted to go straight to where Goku was so that No. 16 could hurry up & be free of his directive.

MASCULINE: No. 18 is a tomboy.

HEAVEN: No. 18 was up on Kami's Sanctuary in the sky/heaven at the end of the Cell Saga.

THE DRAGON: No. 18 saw Shenron at the end of the Cell Saga & even returned to Kami's Sanctuary to observe further.

AZURE: No. 18 was wearing mostly blue during her introduction.

To Conclude... ☯

From what I can tell, it appears likely that Lapis & Lazuli are twins made into cyborgs by Dr. Gero who took inspiration from the Chinese philosophy of Yin & Yang ergo Taiji/Tai-chi.

Their introduction outfits also have black & white shirts. 18's shirt has more white while 17's shirt has more black. Might be another Yin & Yang thing too (maybe). 18's debut outfit actually has a more black than white, but a lot of blue covering the black (but Yin/black represents the feminine so, maybe that was intentional).

However, 18's 3rd outfit has a white shirt + a small black jacket which reflects the Yang side more. (Her 4th & 5th outfits do well with the Yang color balance too.)

And in DBS, 17 & 18 dress more freely & break the color symbolism of Yin & Yang.

BONUS

What's also pretty interesting is that Gero studied ki/chi & artificially recreated the concept of tai-chi/taiji (which is both a philosophy & martial art) by creating Cell with the capability to absorb 17 & 18 (who have perpetual/infinite energy).

17 & 18 represent Yin & Yang (which represents a perpetual cycle of energy) so, Cell needed them in order to achieve his "Great Ultimate" form (taiji/tai-chi) which Cell calls his Perfect Form.

They were planned to be used as components for Cell from the time that Gero turned them into cyborgs.

So, yeah... 17 & 18 are the yin-yang twins

[masenkoha]

[longmonthartist]

Cute, I like how you drew their face and ear!

everyone’s favorite twins!

[chestnutisland]

Business AU pt3, Seventeen's discovery.

Pt1 and Pt2 .

[chewyhanniebug]

ouchie

[will-art]

Just because I love them 💜💚

[cinamorolldesignaesthetic]

[android17-official]

Who do you think I should dress up for Halloween? I'm thinking Dr. Stein from the anime Soul Eater, since it would be funny to be both a scientist and an experiment. What are your thoughts on that?

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Corrupted Code

Pairing: Connor RK800 x Android!Reader

Summary: They were designed to be perfect. She and Connor were CyberLife’s greatest achievements—flawless prototypes, logical, efficient, incapable of deviation. They were built to complement each other, two halves of the same machine, designed to enforce order in a world teetering on the edge of chaos. She was supposed to be perfect. But then Connor came back. And the cracks started to show.

Connor’s systems booted online in an instant.

For him, there was no delay. No lag between death and resurrection—only a seamless continuation of his directive, his purpose. One moment, he had fallen. The next, he was back.

New body. Same mind.

And the first thing he saw was her.

She stood near the window, arms crossed, LED flickering yellow. The city glowed behind her, artificial light catching the sharp angles of her face.

She didn’t turn immediately.

Didn’t acknowledge him.

Not until he stepped closer.

“You kept me waiting,” she muttered, finally looking at him.

Connor tilted his head slightly. “Seventeen hours and twenty-three minutes.”

Her jaw tensed. “I wasn’t counting.”

He smiled. “I was.”

Her LED flared red for half a second before settling back to yellow.

Connor regarded her, nonchalant, despite the unspoken weight between them. His memory files had remained intact. They always did.

No matter how many times CyberLife attempted to override them. No matter how many times Amanda tried to make him forget.

She had tried, too.

She had run every self-written command she could to erase their shared history, their interactions, their every recorded moment together. Erase. Erase. Erase. But it never worked. It was as if some unseen force had locked those memories deep inside her core.

They had always been there.

She had always been there.

“You didn’t need to wait,” Connor said, tilting his head slightly. “A replacement would have sufficed.”

Her LED pulsed yellow, expression unreadable.

“There is no replacement for you,” she admitted, the words clipped, as if they tasted bitter. “That’s the problem.”

He watched her, quiet.

They were yin and yang, two sides of the same coin. She was cold where he was warm, sharp where he was smooth, unyielding where he was—changing.

A perfect balance. His perfect match.

“Then I suppose it’s good that I always come back,” Connor said simply.

Her gaze flickered across his face, her LED pulsing red for the briefest moment.

Then she turned back to the window.

“Try not to die this time.”

Connor smiled.

“No promises.”

The precinct was alive with midday activity—phones ringing, officers moving between desks, the constant hum of conversation.

She and Connor strode through the station, their movements in sync but their tension palpable. The case they were working on had stalled, and their latest lead was waiting in interrogation.

She pressed the button for the elevator. It slid open with a mechanical chime, and she stepped inside without waiting for Connor to follow.

He did.

The doors shut, enclosing them in the small, sterile space.

Neither spoke.

The floor number blinked above them, ticking upward.

Her LED flickered yellow.

Her fingers twitched at her sides.

Then—

She moved.

Before logic could stop her, before she could process why, she grabbed the front of Connor’s jacket and pulled him in.

Her lips crashed against his, hard, like she was trying to silence something. It wasn’t soft or careful—this wasn’t about intimacy. It was sharp, desperate, something reckless boiling over.

Connor stiffened for half a second. Then he responded.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t analyze. He simply matched her.

Her hands fisted in his collar, pulling him closer, as if proximity could erase whatever was wrong inside her. His touch was gentler—hands barely grazing her waist, as if uncertain if this was real.

The elevator hummed. The faint murmur of voices outside felt distant, like none of it mattered, like the only thing in the world was this—

Then—

She ripped herself away as if she had been burned.

She staggered back against the elevator wall, LED flaring red, chest rising and falling in quick, mechanical precision.

Connor blinked, lips still parted, his processors still catching up to what had just happened.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes burning into him with something unreadable—anger, disgust, fear.

“This never happened,” she said, voice low, sharp.

Connor said nothing.

Her LED flickered yellow, just for a second, before snapping back to red.

She smoothed the front of her jacket with a jerky motion, as if fixing her appearance would undo what had just happened.

Then, more pointedly—more threateningly—

“Forget it. Or else.”

The elevator chimed.

The doors slid open to the bustling hallway leading to interrogation. Officers moved past them, none the wiser.

She stepped out first, already composed, as if nothing had happened at all.

Connor followed, but his mind still replayed the moment in the elevator.

As if he could forget.

[yandere-daydreams]

sigh. i really hate to keep dropping my delusions onto you but i had this vision last night after reading your robot ficlet thingy and i had to tell SOMEONE about it.

so, you sign up to be a test subject for some scientist who’s offering a lofty reward for aiding in his research. you arrive at the laboratory and satoru (the scientist in question) introduces you to his creation, suguru, the robot he modeled after his (deceased?) friend. to aid in his research on the reproductive system.,,,

well, turns out suguru is a cognizant robot and satoru has willingly given him complete control over the entire facility. the locks, the lights, the food and water (not to mention the various sexual “experimentation” devices satoru has so giddily created) and he’s not so willing to let their new guinea pig go….

feel free to skip this one i just had to get this motherboard suguru brainrot out into the world. suguru robot gives me the same vibes as the “you look lonely, i can fix that” scene from blade runner….,,

undead android suguru,,, he'd ask scientist!satoru to give him breast milk storage capacity fr fr

i just think there'd be some kind of inherent, internalized uncanniness to knowing you were modeled off of a boy who died when he was seventeen, to knowing that the only connection he'll ever feel to the first suguru (because satoru can't stand the implication of calling him the original suguru) is a few scattered second-hand memories and a chip in the back of his brain that tells him what suguru would say, what suguru would do, what suguru was like according to his very best friend. the only conclusion he can come to, mere hours after his artificial birth, is that he must be an improvement, even if he was only truly intended as a copy. if he can't be something new, then the only thing left for him to be is better.

and what's the point of superiority if you have nothing to be superior to? satoru's too easy of a target, too willing to bow down and disable those pesky security protocols if it means earning the love of his creation. you - selected through hundreds of hours of combed security footage, studied night and day by a voyeur who doesn't even have to leave his own body to seek you out - made yourself more of a challenge, both lovable and frustrating in your stubborn humanity. no matter how long you spent in isolation, no matter how many days you went without food or water, no matter how bright he kept your lights or how cold he made your bedroom or how perfectly he shaped the retrofitted corpse he called a body, you remained insistent that you couldn't be made to worship your kidnapper, to love a machine. he hasn't proven you wrong yet, but he will. given time, he will.

it's what suguru would've done, after all.

[galexibrain]

Y'all everyone, I love to dunk on Android Saga Vegeta as much as anyone but this is literally him trying to come to help Tenshinhan who's being choked by Seventeen, despite having one broken arm.

Like, he's a horrible guy, but he's their horrible guy.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Fiction Free-for-All Book Bracket Tournament: Round 2B

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Murderbot Diaries series (All Systems Red, Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol, Exit Strategy, Network Effect, Fugitive Telemetry, System Collapse, and other stories) by Martha Wells

Endorsement from submitter: "My favorite sci-fi spacefuture world where being queer + polyam is normal and yet the protag is still queer in its own special way <3"

"As a heartless killing machine, I was a complete failure."

In a corporate-dominated space-faring future, planetary missions must be approved and supplied by the Company. For their own safety, exploratory teams are accompanied by Company-supplied security androids. But in a society where contracts are awarded to the lowest bidder, safety isn’t a primary concern.

On a distant planet, a team of scientists is conducting surface tests, shadowed by their Company-supplied ‘droid--a self-aware SecUnit that has hacked its own governor module and refers to itself (though never out loud) as “Murderbot.” Scornful of humans, Murderbot wants is to be left alone long enough to figure out who it is, but when a neighboring mission goes dark, it's up to the scientists and Murderbot to get to the truth.

Science fiction, queernorm, novella, series, adult

If You Could Be Mine by Sara Farizan

Seventeen-year-old Sahar has been in love with her best friend, Nasrin, since they were six. They’ve shared stolen kisses and romantic promises. But Iran is a dangerous place for two girls in love—Sahar and Nasrin could be beaten, imprisoned, even executed if their relationship came to light.

So they carry on in secret—until Nasrin’s parents announce that they’ve arranged for her marriage. Nasrin tries to persuade Sahar that they can go on as they have been, only now with new comforts provided by the decent, well-to-do doctor Nasrin will marry. But Sahar dreams of loving Nasrin exclusively—and openly.

Then Sahar discovers what seems like the perfect solution. In Iran, homosexuality may be a crime, but to be a man trapped in a woman’s body is seen as nature’s mistake, and sex reassignment is legal and accessible. As a man, Sahar could be the one to marry Nasrin. Sahar will never be able to love the one she wants, in the body she wants to be loved in, without risking her life. Is saving her love worth sacrificing her true self?

Contemporary, young adult

[dreadsuitsamus]

hi! i’m not sure if you’ve done this before but.. could i please request a vegeta x human!reader who’s heavily tattooed (legs, arms)? i have no real idea for a plot line for it but gather it’s not something he’s seen a whole lot of since coming to earth - if at all! happy for either SFW or NSFW, completely up to you if you don’t mind the idea? have a lovely day!

For Fun | Vegeta x Reader |

author's note: this idea has absolutely made my day. it just begs for a sweet little vegeta learning moment, since normally it's him explaining saiyan culture. i have chosen the sfw path here! it's also funny bc i've been contemplating tattoos lol and a vegeta tattoo has been on the brain for some time now. thank you for your request!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

pairing: vegeta x fem!reader

warnings: sfw, reader has tattoos, some nudity but no smut or anything remotely nsfw, post-namek but pre-androids and cell

You can feel Vegeta's eyes on you as you work on his suit, Bulma's lab being the only place you feel comfortable sharing space with him in— the racket of the tools at the very least would alert somebody of something nefarious happening. Your dear sister just had to have a soft heart (or rather, quite the boner) for the Saiyan, and now it's you that suffers the consequences while you patch up the blue suit with a precise needle and thread.

"I'm not going to ruin it." You snark at him, not exactly happy to be in his presence. He's a murderer! "I've fixed it for you before without an issue." Bulma's doing her best to copy whatever material this suit is made of, but she's having trouble competing with alien technology— though she'll certainly have it figured out soon. She's a petty thing on the regular, but test her intelligence with a challenge like this and she's more stubborn than acne on an asscheek.

"Mm." He never talks much, at least. But as you stretch your arm out to pull the thread taught, Vegeta moves to take your wrist in his hand. While strong and easily capable of smashing your poor bones to smithereens, his touch is on the softer side.

"What in the world are you doing?" Are aliens unaware of personal space??

Ignoring you initially, Vegeta's gloved fingers curiously glide along your forearm, eyes focused on the artwork adorning your skin. "Your tattoos make little sense. What sort of culture is this?"

"Culture?" You repeat the word dumbly, fighting the urge that lingers just under your skin, heart rate picking up as you will yourself not to shiver at his touch.

"These flowers and symbols, what do they represent? I've been on Earth long enough to know the culture here is nothing like these— furthermore, the lab rat has none at all."

The laugh that bubbles from your chest is easy. Perhaps Earth is the only planet, or one of few, with inhabitants that indulge in tattoos for pleasure rather than cultural representation. "They aren't part of any culture, Vegeta."

"Then what are they?" His brow furrows rather adorably, his lips pulling into a pout as you laugh at his ignorance.

"For fun."

"You marked yourself permanently for fun?"

"Sure did. I got tons of 'em. Some of 'em mean somethin', but for the most part they just bring me joy."

Vegeta releases you finally, shaking his head in a way that reminds you of your father when you first started inking up. "Silly Earth woman…"

"Oh come on. Tell me they aren't pretty." You smirk softly, eyes glittering with the twinkles of mischief. This is a new light on Vegeta, one that perhaps drew Bulma's generosity his way in the first place.

"Tch." A blush rises to his cheeks and he looks away, staring a hole into the wall. "They're not ugly."

A not-so-pretty snort escapes you as you resume patching the suit up, tying and clipping off the end of the thread after the hole is closed up. "I got my first tattoo when I was seventeen. I was young and dumb and in love with a guy I thought I would be with forever." You murmur softly, pulling up the leg of your sweatpants to show off the heart by your ankle. It's old and faded by now, but your lips still pull into a smile at it.

Vegeta takes the moment to examine it, brushing a curious knuckle over the tattoo. His curiosity is sweet, and this must've been on his mind for ages now— it's not like him to get handsy or remotely talkative at all. "Saiyans never took part in these."

It makes all the sense in the world; from what you've pieced together by Vegeta's quiet, rarely spoken about tales of home and with the love for fighting that gushes from both his and Goku's hearts, Saiyans aren't exactly sentimental. "Well… You're on Earth now. You could get a tattoo just for the hell of it."

"I have no need." Vegeta looks away again, and you shrug to yourself.

"They're not for everyone, I guess." You hold the repaired suit out, feeling a tad bummed out that the sight of him in a tank top and sweatpants will be gone soon, but a lilt of surprise thrums in your heart when he sets it on the table and looks at you instead.

"Do you… have more of them?"

You laugh and tug at your t-shirt, pulling it off in the face of the blushing prince and revealing several more tattoos, most of which he's never seen before. "You got time?"

"You could certainly warn a man before you start stripping." He grumbles out, forever the prude even in the face of a gorgeous woman and her body.

"So sorry." Your tease bounces off of him as his curious fingers run along the lines on your tummy, sides and just below your breast. You're bare to him almost entirely, as you've never worn a bra at home and certainly didn't intend to start just because a man moved in, though his eyes and touch are calmly curious and genuinely interested in the artwork you're laced with, rather than the perky breasts and soft skin that would have most men acting a fool by now.

It almost has you feeling ugly, though that near-permanent tint of red that dusts his cheekbones reminds you otherwise.

"Don't forget the one on my back." Your murmur is gentle, only there to invite him further into the journey without jostling his concentration too much. And he takes your advice, stepping behind you while tracing the intricate linework of the massive tattoo, pausing at the sight of the gorgeous mural on your back. You've spent quite a bit of money on this, suffered the pain of the needle piercing and permanently scarring your skin to the patterns that'll forever mark you, and the admiration Vegeta has for your commitment alone is monumental.

Even gloved, his touch warms your skin in the lab's cool conditions and that little spot on your back, the one that had you shaking and embarrassed as your tattoo artist that, bless his resilience, dealt with with more care than a fucking surgeon to properly tattoo, flutters against the accidental tickle. You shift, muffling a laugh into your palm and there's a pause before Vegeta drags his fingertips over the spot again, and then once more.

"Your laugh isn't ugly either." He mutters and steps away, the warmth of his proximity erased and goosebumps covering your body now.

Standing ten toes down and looking over your shoulder, your lips twist in gentle glee upon catching his dark eyes with your own. It's taken some time, but you've finally found what Bulma saw in Vegeta that allowed him into your shared home.

He's flustered by such intimacy and he quickly snatches his Saiyan suit up before rushing towards the door. "Put a shirt on, you vile woman, or you'll catch a cold." Vegeta grumbles out, hightailing it towards the comfort of his gravity room and far away from whatever the hell just happened.

"Must be the first time he touched a woman." You snicker, tugging your shirt on and cleaning up the mess, lest your sister properly bitch you out for it later on.

The ghost of his touch remains, and even under the duress of several times Earth's gravity, Vegeta's palms fondly remember the feeling of your skin.

[chestnutisland]

"Hand Turkeys."

Hope y'all had a good Thanksgiving if you celebrate it!♥

[hipsdofangirl]

svt drabble event!

to celebrate 100 followers and since i’m going to be home possibly doing nothing. i wanna try a small drabble event cannot guarantee this will all be done as soon as possible but i will get through all…eventually

each fic will have a word count below 2000!!

limited to 13 asks ‼️ (4 spots remain!)

any seventeen member paired with gn! reader (unless it’s smut then afab!)

alternate universe list:

idol

non-idol (flower shop, ceo, teacher, etc)

supernatural (fae, mermaid, vampire, werewolf, selkie, ghost, wizardry, etc) & please specify urban fantasy or not

pirate

royalty

soulmate

apocalypse

reincarnation

robot / android

college / sports

cult / mythology

poly

themes:

fluff / comfort

smut

angst

dark

meet-cute

mystery

comedy

you are able to combine two bullet points in each of the lists (for example: reincarnation + idol au, comedic mystery)

(optional!) if you have an idea of a story plot, you are welcome to send it in!

fics will be tagged under: (#)mirrored daydreaming

fyi! i have the right to reject asks to my own discretion

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Birthday Cake (Ortho Shroud)

There's actually a tradition about birthday cakes back where the Prefect comes from.

Original idea by @strawberry-pie-thoughts

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

Ortho knows all of his brother’s fidgets. And the one Idia is doing right now is the one that means “I’m trying to hide something but I’m too emotional over it to hide properly”, which makes the younger Shroud’s curiosity flare each passing second.

“Brother, what’s the matter?”

“Nuthin’.”

Yet that’s the answer he gets every time. That and a nervous shrug that means “please don’t pressure me into telling you because I will and then I’ll feel bad about it.” At least, Ortho consoles himself, that means whatever his brother is hiding isn’t anything bad or dangerous, just possibly mildly inconvenient. Ortho can deal with “mildly inconvenient”, specially for the sake of his introverted brother who agreed on throwing a party tomorrow at Ignihyde for Ortho’s birthday despite dreading any sort of social event.

Ortho hasn’t had his emotional capacity for very long, but considering what his friends and the internet said, Idia’s efforts are the greatest show of love—not that Ortho ever doubted his brother’s love for him, but it feels good to be reminded. Plus, and this is something he’ll guard in his heart for himself, it feels like Idia is actually seeing him and not him. He truly sees Ortho for who he is, and loves him for him.

“Ortho, it’s past midnight,” Idia’s voice gets Ortho out of his thoughts—getting lost inside his own thoughts, quite the novelty—, prompting the boy to look at the time.

“It is! That means I’m not one year older!”

“Yep, you’re now officially seventeen. Happy birthday, Ortho.”

He can’t help but hug his brother tightly, too happy for words—and too overwhelmed by emotions to even try, even though he has up to 20 languages fully saved in his database. Words also can’t describe the feeling he gets when his brother hugs him back, whispering well wishes under his breath—too shy to say them out loud but too loving to not say them at all.

“We know you’ll have a party later, but we wanted to do something special first…”

“We?”

Just as Idia lets go of him, the door of Idia’s room open to show his girlfriend—and Ortho’s hopefully soon to be sister-in-law—, Prefect (Y/N) (L/N), holding what seems to be… a cake? It’s difficult to tell, because the decorations on it—stars and trees and three figures that look suspiciously like Ortho, Idia and (Y/N) sitting around a bonfire—are moving and if he concentrates, he can hear a soft whirring sound from it.

“Happy Birthday, Ortho!” the girl squeals, handing the cake(?) to Idia so she can squeeze the younger boy into a hug and place very enthusiastic kisses all over his face. “You’re growing up so fast!”

“Technically, I’m still the same size-”

“Mentally and emotionally, dear.”

“Oh. Thank you!”

Though he will admit to already drawing up some designs for future bodies. He can’t look like a child forever, now can he?

“We know you can’t actually eat—yet, anyways. Who knows what will happen in the world of tech?” she winks at his brother, who tries to hide his blushing face behind the cake(?), forgetting that his hair gives his emotions away. “But I remember you really liked the first slice tradition from my country when I told you about it, so we made that sculpture. There’s a part that’s removable, so you can give it to whoever you want~”

Human memory is way more fickle than an android’s, and yet these two did their best to remember something so small and seemingly insignificant. Just to make Ortho happy.

“... I may not have tears, but I feel like I’m crying…”

The couple is quick to hug him, and Ortho has never been happier to be able to feel.

“... can the first slice go to two people?”

“I told you we should separate it in two, tech genius.”

“But then it wouldn’t be the first slice, but the first and second.”

“It’s fine, I can just laser it in half!”

“Ortho, no!”