#Cable Locking Plate System

[siorasurgical-post]

Implants & Instrument Set of Locking Proximal Femur Cable Plate contains all the orthopedic devices that are required to apply and manipulate the cable locking plate system. This set provides the surgeons with all the tools and implants for accurately placing proximal cable locking plates with the provided cable and achieving optimum tightness and compression. You can get an international standard range of this locking proximal femur cable plate implant and instrument set from Siora Surgicals Pvt. Ltd., a renowned orthopedic manufacturer in India.

[tinydefector]

Rut cycle- Ratchet

Gen 1 Ratchet x human

Word count: 1.6k

Waring: smut, breeding, oral, size difference.

Masterlist

Ratchet masterlist

Rut cycle masterlist

______________

"Hey Rat, got your equipment!" A voice calls out from the entrance of the medical lab, multiple sets of optics shoot to the human who reads through the list of equipment that was needed.

Ratchet's vocals crackled with static as their sweet voice tortured his processor, the haze of his rut had made it nearly unbearable to be around any of the other mechs on base without him wanting to rip their helm off. His plating clamps uo agonisingly as he turns to the human.

Optics watch their every move as they walk through the lab, every mech's optics flicker over their form. Dimly he registered a medkit, blood samples and other equipment clutched to their chest.

A soft whine escaped his venting as the sweet yet nearly sickening scent of hormones waft from their frame. They smile, making their way towards the medical staff with the supplies. "Here those blood samples you requested, hopefully this can help you understand what about our biology seems to keep making you guys go into rut" they call out while checking over their list. “I wasn't able to get any Electrum samples after that fight with the Cons. There wasn't much left at the scuffle” they call back, Ratchet optics focus In on Perceptor and Hoist as the two begin sniffing the air.

Through the haze of full-blown interfacing protocols, Ratchet lefts out savage snarl peeled from his vocalizer at the collected optics of his cohorts. Hoist, Starscream, Perceptor and Shockwave back off, but they sling around the lab, trying to make themself look busy.

Dimly he registered supplies in tiny hands, he took them as softly as he could from them, his frame shuttering in delight at the slightest contact. A harsh keen escaped as servos servo lifted them up onto the table. It makes them laugh softly as they shake their head at him "Settle Doc, they aren't doing anything" they call out while moving about with different vials, looking at the different colours and liquids in them. Once again the others in the lab try sneaking closer.

Another savage snarl tore from Ratchet's vocalizer at the gathered mechs, plating clamping up as his servos dent the table. "Back, the lot of you!" he bellowed, a dampening field flickering with repressed urges. His Optics cycled rapidly between the crowd and their movements.

His vocalizer spat harshly "get out Now," he rasped through grit denta. The others didn't stick around after Ratchet snarled, all of them quick to leave the medical bay. A low keen escaped his vocals as he slams the door locked, servo pressed against the metal as he cycles another vent while pressing His helm against the metal trying to calm his systems down. He stands there for a moment trying to get a hold of himself before his optics shoot open as he marches himself back over to them.

A gasp leaves them as Ratchet grabs them by the hips pulling them closer "Easy Ratchet, easy!" They call out through a shaky breath as their fingers dig into the Ridge of his plating eyes focusing on his optics, watching the way they shift and flicker as he looks at them than the lab.

Ratchet shuddered violently at the proximity yet dared not release his deathgrip on their hips. Every part of his coding was calling for one thing.

Claim. Breed.

His helm nuzzled against them unconsciously, massive frame quivering with repressed force that could crumple their fragile body. The scent, the warmth and the softness has Ratchet keening softly into their shoulder, nipping and sucking the skin.

" That's bad huh?" They ask softly, one hand trailing his neck cables as they hold onto him, they knew the rut cycle was chipping away at Ratchet's sanity and restraint; they just hadn't realised How badly it had affected him. Their other hand moves his faceplate, leaning up catching his lips in a kiss as they hold him in place.

"Please." His voice box grated a ragged plea, servos trembling with a need to touch to claim. "Can barely contain protocols - damage you, never forgive myself.." His engines snarled in need. It's a miracle either of them make it to the medical berth, but the moment they do Ratchet is on them. A savage snarl tore free as he seized their delicate frame, servos tearing through clothing as if it was nothing.

His intake trails across their body kissing, licking and savouring the taste of their skin. His frame caged them against the berth, A guttural rumble leaves him as he admires their naked body.

"Ratch lay down now" they demand. He follows the command without a second question, servo guiding them to sit atop of his frame. their fingers run across the seams of his chassis and further down his body. "Mmm good boy" they praise, leaning down to press a kiss to his frame.

Their hand moves to his interface panel, running along the hatch. "Come on handsome, you know you want me on your spike you don't need to hold back anymore, let me look after you" they coo as they move further down his frame. A tortured keen ripped from Ratchet's ragged vocals His optics flickered, fields pulsing in need. His interface panel snaps open, Ratchet hisses as the pressure finally releases, a deep moan follows as smaller hands wrap around his spike.

His servos curl around their hips as they slowly work his spike with their hands and mouth. optics fixate on their backside as he squeezes the flesh of their ass, adoring the small gasp that leaves them. they pull away enough as transfluid runs down their chin and Ratchet's spike. They watch the way the shimmering liquid leaks and pools into the seams of Ratchet's frame.

"Use your words baby, can't help you if you don't tell me what you want" they chuckles as they press a kiss to the side of his spike, running their tongue up the length, lapping up the pretty pink fluid that leaves his frame. "Please - ah, please!" he managed to force through gritting denta, grasping desperately for a coherent thought. His spike throbbed in need with each touch.

His intake fluttered futilely, field pulsing arrant pleas for the relief he drags them back away from his spike. Spreading their thighs, his glossa runs between their thighs before he pulls them back onto his face. A deep guttural moan leaves him and he works his glossa into them.

Gasp and moans leave their lips as the hunch over face pressed into his chassis as Ratchet eagerly eats them out as if it were his last meal. "Inside - need to fill you up! Frag, need you" he mumbles against their trembling body.

Ratchet emitted a pained keen as he withdrew his glossa, spike throbbing with a need to fill and claim. He lets out a purr as he positions them, A stuttering exvent escaped his vents as he slowly presses in, his engine roars in delight, intake snapped open in a soundless cry, frame clamped rigidly as he begins to grind into them.

“fuck Ratchet!” they cry out as he holds them in place. His optics focus on their stomach bulging from the size leaving a very visible outline of his spike, it makes an old part of his coding coo in delight seeing them so full. He slowly begins to pull out and press back in each movement as he holds back snarls as he tries desperately to be gentle.

A desperate keen tore from Ratchet's vocalizer as they slowly rose, then sank once more upon his throbbing spike, transfluid already leaking from their body running back down his spike as he pulled them down hard. A sharp yelp leaves them which makes Ratchet cease up for a moment. “I'm alright, I'm alright, please don't stop feels so good!” They call out trying to reassure him.

His servos curled tightly upon straining thighs, guiding each plunge to fully sheathe his spike within them. Optics blazed transfixed on their body and how used they looked, stomach bulging, his transfluid gushing from them yet he hadn't even overloaded yet.

Another guttural moan leaves him as he frantically grinds into them, each thrust leaves them breathless, thighs quivering with each movement. Gasp and cries leave them as Ratchet ceases up, their name falls from his lips as he pulls them close. They whine loudly as transfluid floods their smaller body, gushing out onto ratchets' lap and the medical berth. A deep purr echoes from Ratchet's chassis as he holds them steadily against his frame.

Ratchet vented ragged exhalations as they lay against each other, condensation and sweat coating both their quaking frame moulded closely to each other, his little lover's breaths are just as ragged as they whine into his plating, cuddling close to each other as Ratchet holds them close.

His spike remained fully seated within them, throbbing and twitching involuntarily with aftershocks of interfacing. His Sensory nets drunk on the mingled scents now permanently coating their body. They smelt like him, and it made a part of him content.

One massive servo curled tenderly against the small of their back, cradling them against his chassis.

"Feeling better?" They tease softly, only to gasp as he pulls them back against his spike making more trans fluid gush from them. A deep rumble leaves him in delight. "More peaceful than I've felt in millennia," he rumbled softly, palming their stomach now swollen with transfluid

They tense and squirm before finally settling, snuggling back into his arms enjoying the warmth that radiates off his frame. "Mmm well work on the blocker tomorrow i wanna cuddle" they mumble to Ratchet.

___________

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[bones-of-a-rabbit]

He was tired of you being afraid of him. Even recently, when you hadn't immediately fled at the sight of him, you were stiff and tense- well, more tense than a staffbot could be- and wouldn't look him in the eyes.

It hurt more than he wanted to admit.

He couldn't get an answer out of anyone- Sun, the Glamrocks, even the human workers in the Pizzaplex.

It was driving him mad.

He liked you. More than he probably should. But you were so scared of him. And he didn't know why.

That brought him to now- hunting through logs and security feed for nearly four hours, combing through them, searching for clues as to what happened during the time they had been infected. There was next to nothing in his system, which was only more suspect. Obviously information had been there, but he was struggling to find how to bring it back. The data recovery in his processor wasn't working, so he had elected to go through the security offices one by one to see if there was any saved data there.

Aha.

Someone had forgotten to empty the trash on a monitor, revealing a concerning amount of footage and security logs from when the virus was at its strongest. He started scanning through the logs, pausing when he came upon a log simply titled 'Damaged Staffbot'. Opening it, he scanned the text.

'3:46 a.m. Damaged Staffbot found on the second floor of the Atrium near Roxy Raceway. Arm needs to be fully replaced, wires have been torn at the upper arm.'

He closed the log, suddenly feeling a sliver of dread worm its way into his circuits. Another log.

'2:09 a.m. Damaged staffbot found near Rockstar Row. Legs have been ripped off. Total replacement required.'

Another.

'3:46 a.m. Damaged staffbot found near Gator Golf. Hands have been crushed. Total replacement required.'

Another.

'3:54 a.m. Damaged staffbot found inside the basement of Fazbear Theater. Chest has multiple deep gashes, face has been ripped open.'

Another.

Another.

Another.

And then...

'5:57 a.m. Damaged staffbot found near front entrance. Bot has been almost completely dismantled. Major repairs required.'

Robots couldn't technically feel nauseous, but he felt like he was pretty damn close. His metal fingers threatened to crush the mouse in his grip as he stared at the screen.

It was you.

No other bot would be repaired without complaint so many times, no other had the discolored plating over part of your head that you did.

Now he knew where you got it from.

You were attacked.

Multiple times.

You were terrified of him.

He had to know who did this to you.

You already know.

He clicked on the feed of the day of the final log, hands trembling ever so slightly as he forwarded through the feed watching over the front entrance. He saw Freddy and a small child (how was there a child still in the Pizzaplex) running toward the door. Then he saw himself, not far behind, a manic grin on his face, locked on the child.

He swung lower on his cable, releasing and scuttling across the floor, reaching for the child-

Something slammed into him, HARD.

He watched in shock as his past self was sent tumbling, limbs entangled with something. His past self laid limply on the floor for a moment, and he watched as the person that stopped him staggered to their feet- and his pupils shrank in horror.

It was you. Even with the less than quality video feed, he could see the discoloration on your face where your metal patch was.

No.

His past self rose to his feet, gaze locked onto you.

No.

You took a step back.

No.

He lunged, and you were too slow to move. He rammed into your upper body, sending you down onto the floor hard. You didn't move as he loomed over you, grin sharp.

He grabbed your head, and pulled.

He shut off the computer.

CONSUMING THIS LOVING THIS I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEAAAA

ANON PLS I WOULD SACRIFICE MY FIRSTBORN TO U PLS KNOW I LOVE U

[medfetabdl]

I thought I could show you all a bit more details of my DIY monitor mounting arm. When I originally posted it I didn’t really show much detail. It’s also changed a lot since the first post.

I first built it in February. It was my first fabrication project I’ve ever done. By fabrication I mean design, and building. Building it took a lot of welding and machining. I have formal training in both welding and machining now but at the time I only had training in welding. The welder I used is a harbor freight Titanium Easy Flux 125. It’s a gas-less MIG machine so it’s a flux core wire feed machine. I also can stick weld which I actually find more fun but my stick welder doesn’t have enough power to weld this stuff. The main frame parts are made from 1 inch square steel tube. All the adjustment parts are made from 1/4 inch mild steel plate, 3/4 round mild steel, and 5/16-18 Socket Head Cap Screws. It mounts to my bed with clamps that come from my background in the entertainment industry where they are usually used to mount lighting instruments to pipes. All the machining was done on my vertical knee milling machine that has a 2 axis prototrack plus CNC system installed on it. At the time I was not trained in CNC so everything was done with the machine manually, now I’m trained in CNC.

The monitor mounts to the arm via 2 tapered pins that go into the bottom of all the Intellivue monitors. To get the proper taper I measured it with taper gauges. Usually a round part with a taper would be done on a lathe but I don’t own a lathe so I had to get creative. You can use a milling machine as a lathe so I mounted the round stock in the spindle with a collet. To get the proper taper was a whole different ball game. To get the proper taper I ended up having to come up with a complex equation to set the power feeds on my machine to the right speed to cut the taper.

For a while the mounting plate was mounted directly to the mounting arm because it worked perfectly for the MP5. When I got the MP50 I found it had feet on the bottom that stuck out and didn’t allow the monitor to swivel all the way around. To move the monitor you would also have to push the monitor itself and there was nothing to grab onto to make that easy. So I did a modification and I added a piece of pipe as a spacer so the feet would clear and swivel all the way around. I also ended up making a handle to grab to move the arm and to swivel the monitor out of a piece of 1/4in stainless steel round stock which I heated with a torch and bent.

Originally I made a little steel wire basket that my MP2 used to sit in but after a while I realized how ugly it was so I removed it and built the totally over engineered mount that my X2 sits inside of now. The mount is made out of solid machined 6061 aluminum. I made it after receiving training in both manual and CNC machining. To build it I actually went with all manual machining because I wanted to have fun and just make up a design as I went along. It’s made of 3 pieces. The back is a piece of aluminum C channel that I milled down so the walls were 90 degrees to each other. The rest of it was made from a piece of aluminum plate I had laying around. The locking screws are just 1/4-20 socket head cap screws with a 3d printed knob on them.

When I took the wire basket off I made some aluminum hooks which I mounted with the same screw holes the wire basket used. I also made some wire clamps out of some mild steel to hold the power cable and the Ethernet cable a couple months ago. Today I zip tied the MSL cable to the power cable. The whole arm is hight adjustable but I never use the hight adjustment. The whole thing got a white paint job a few weeks ago although I used really cheap spray paint so it’s worn through in a lot of spots.

The whole thing was designed so that I can just loosen the clamps and take it off the bed if I have people in my room that don’t know about my fetishes.

I was looking at some used monitor arms on eBay last week and then I remembered that my arm can actually be easily stowed away. It’s definitely not a project within most people’s reach due the tools, material and time required. I have at least 20 or 30 hours in building the arm and I’ll probably continue to upgrade it as I think of things to add.

[skittlewaffle]

Ġ̸̨̞̟̬̤̤̺̦̆̏̀̐̾̀̿ͅE̷̛̝̻̫̫̫͆̂͆́͋͌T̴̨̜̩̲̜̣̺̜͓̖̫̱̔ͅ ̵̩̤̥͕͗̈́̍̈́̊̄̂̾̊͋̕B̸̡̛̘̺̬͖̘͙̝̘̖͖͕̣̟̅̀̊̉̌͜Ą̴̞̤͈̮͔͉̳̦̞̱͓̞͈̠̂͒̊͛̏̀͋̃͒̈́͒̈́͝C̸̟͕̭͎͖͂̎̀̃̃̈́͛͝K̸̢͌̉̒́̊̋͌̀̑̆̔̚̚ ̶͕̝̯̲̩͍͓̞̱̪̈́̈̔̓͑͝H̴͍̞̬̜́͒̄͑̈̽̋͒̓͋͊̄̽E̴̛̛̱̪͔̘̻͚̝͖͚̲̝̭̔̊͜ͅͅR̶̮͔͈̣̎̎͑͛̀̂̐͛͆͠ͅE̵̩͙̺̼̮̦͖̠̎̓͛̍̕ͅ!!

… :) Hi. My friend said I should make an animatronic OC into a character you would see in the Security Breach Ruin DLC. boy did I have fun forcing myself to figure out Rain’s internal mechanisms 😵‍💫 (more info below the cut :)) But genuinely I absolutely LOVE rendering; I’ve never actually been more detailed in a piece like this tho. I’m improving! :D

Little timelapse for you too, since I decided to test out the feature on CSP :V

This is what Rain originally looked like! (Post here)

Internal Mechanisms

There are two wheels beneath her dress on either side of her where her “shoulders” would be from which wires are dispensed, creating “hands” that are useful for grabbing things that are hard to reach. She was designed to only let out wires individually; however, in her Ruined form, the central cylinder containing the wires that feed into her spools has unscrewed from the bottom and burst through the front panel, allowing more wires to spill out. I was going to have some of the cables frayed in some places, causing an electric hazard, but I was too lazy to draw something like that.

Her head is intentionally split into three pieces for venting out heated systems. A small rectangular shape can be seen along the edge of the unhinged piece; this is where the plates latch and unlatch. You can hear them clicking, locking and unlocking, when Rain has to think really hard. She may be “right as rain” when doing her job, but in interactions outside of childcare, she has proven to be pretty inept, overthinking and overheating easily. You may notice how her hair is burnt in a line where her face is split. Her processors, memory, local data, cooling fans, battery, and the like are built strategically along the inside of her head, while giving room for some extra long-reaching wires to be stored inside behind the framing for her LED eyes.

In her Ruined form, Rain’s legs are missing. Normally, her leg joints sticked out from pathways along her central cylinder. One around the circumference allowed her to spin her body while keeping her feet in place, while two along the sides allowed her to store her legs away (think of Eve from Wall-E), normally to enter rest mode, though she also uses it while active to sit down. Her dress touches the ground and gives her the appearance of an adorable chess piece.

[faulty-heat-vents]

//Narrative communication established.

Things have calmed down. Biohazard/Forensics is working their magic on the salvaged material; Ciryn is too, taking it slow to avoid suspicions. Neither side’s reported back with much. All Ashton can do is wait. 

Between the heat of a mech workshop and the disaster that was his printer, his armor stinks. Ciryn had told him as such when he hopped his way into her medbay, wincing with every step putting weight on his skewered foot. He audibly sighs in relief when Ciryn lays him on the operating table.

He thanks his prior self (though he can’t remember which version) that his armor is airtight, keeping all lost blood from trailing behind him. He also thanks the version after that (definitely sure about that, then questions) for implementing a release switch for the locks on the outside. 

Ciryn unlatches his helmet first, pressing her index fingers to the hidden buttons right along his jawbone. She knows Ash hates showing his face, but this is a medical emergency. The depressurization’s hiss blends with his own, but he doesn’t move. 

“Keep it low,” he begs with a shaky voice. “Only as high as you need.”

Ciryn huffs and lets the helmet hang on the bridge of his nose. She only needs access to the port on the back of his neck for the painkillers.

Shit, the port. Ashton had forgotten to mention it to Slipshod during their communications. It had completely slipped his mind. Most everyone in the Academy was natural-flesh… well, as natural as the special hires like him come. Biodata chips in the wrist, and a port socket in the base of the skull, right where it joins the spine- the only mandatory bionics required by Command for Lancers. 

Ciryn leans Ashton’s head forward to plug a cable into the socket, as thick around as her forearm. With the hand not busy with the cable, she scans Ash’s biodata chip and marks down the operation in his history. Everything clicks into place, and with the sedatives now working their way through Ash’s system, Ciryn moves down to his boot.

Working with Ash is one of her few curiosities. Most of the Academy’s students are organic, unmodified, a few not even clone-revived. Even less have bionic hands to help with aim steadiness, or a steel spine from repeat ramming attempts they should've sized up better.

Ashton is like an alien species compared to them all. From the midriff upwards, only his face and hands show feline mutations; but below that, it’s a mess. Spinal issues from improperly structured hips, skin rubbed raw from fur patches grown in wrong, and- most relevantly here- digitigrade legs. To call the injured extremity a “foot” would only be right in technicality; ankle far higher than a normal human’s, inside bones stretched and contorted into a bastardization of a cat’s paw. 

Ciryn wonders how SSC- the foundry known for gene-splicing- had fucked him up this bad. The thought is quickly shoved aside.

Ashton had designed his armor with his mutations in mind. Each bracelock was a ring of cuffs and springs situated along a flexor point, trapping it in place once activated. Solid steel rods along the limbs kept pressure from building up in delicate areas. Why he’d decided to throw in Barbarossa Siege Stabilizers, hot-drop locks, and electromag clamps was anyone’s guess. The only person Ciryn could ask about it was high off his ass on an operating table. 

Ciryn lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and turns Ash’s leg to face his heel outwards. He grumbles in discomfort, but is far too out of it to properly fight. Right above where his paw-pad ends is a patch of flexible plasteel. Above that is the release mechanism for the joint’s bracelock, haphazardly painted red from an angle Ash couldn't have seen properly while wearing it. 

A simple dial, similar to a kitchen timer, sits indented in the armor plate. It ratchets in place as his powered hardsuit tries in vain to disengage it. Every click sends tremors down Ash’s leg like he’s being electrocuted. Thank MONIST she’d given him painkillers; Any normal person awake through this would burn their throat out with agonized screaming.

Ciryn grabs the dial and forces it still, stopping the twitches she knows are only doing more damage. Plastic cracks on its inside, and with a final rttchk, it stops giving her resistance. 

She traces her fingers along the divot, looking for the armor segment’s release latch. Nothing.

She works higher to his knee, and finds a similar fuck all. Did this dumbass…?

Ash clicks his tongue to get Ciryn’s attention, then gestures to the inside of his thigh. 

“Mechanisms were too finicky to make any smaller,” he slurs, showing his teeth far more than normal. Too few of them, fat and sharp, pronounced canines. Weird.

Ciryn gently, carefully, places a hand on Ash’s thigh. She looks up to make sure she’s clear, and he nods as best he can while on his back and enough painkillers to stunlock a horse. Only when given the green light does she dig her fingers under the plating, finally finding the release toggle. The armor segment goes limp, thudding into the metal table. Ash holds back another hiss as his injured foot is slid from its casing- and then lets it fly when he sees the pool of blood inside the boot pour out. His entire lower leg is drenched in red.

Even Ciryn, a medic who’s seen intestines exposed, takes pause. She looks up to Ash, then down to the growing puddle, then back up to Ash. She’s gone pale with shock, even more so than the actively-exsanguinating catboy in front of her. 

She drops the armor piece and lunges for a tourniquet, wraps it around his leg with lightning-fast practiced hands, then gets to scanning the injury area. 

“What the FUCK is this system?!” she yells in frustration. The readouts on her scanner have given up on diagnosis, simply reading [lost cause, pursue amputation]. She’s not giving up on a patient that easily.

She routes a tank of “blood” to Ash’s port and tightens the tourniquet. She doesn’t need to worry about his blood type- what she’s sending his way is a synthetic fluid that assimilates to its host. What she does need to worry about is the synthblood leaking out of the hole in his paw. It’s as wide as a soda can, pierces all the way through, and ragged along every inch. Strips of shredded flesh hang from the armor’s retracted bracelocks. 

Ciryn has to keep herself moving, as to not just stare in horror. How does he not feel this?! How did he WALK ON THIS?! 

She rolls up several Correctives, sets the fuse on all of them, then shoves the bundle inside Ash’s wound with several apologies and prayers. He screams as the rough texture of the gauze scrapes against raw meat- a loud caterwaul that Ciryn can’t help but think sounds like an ancient Cradle cartoon. All at once, the Correctives fire off and send swarms of healing nanites into Ash’s exposed vascular and nervous systems. Thin nerve-fibers and vein-tubes push the gauze around inside, squeezing dead blood and necrotized tissue out onto the tray beneath. 

Ash nearly dislocates his hip with how fast he turns, flailing his leg as every rebuilt nerve reconnects. It’s AGONIZING, each in sequence, forming a chain of ping-ponging pain. Ciryn snaps a belt around his waist and pulls hard, rotating him back supine. She does the same to his leg, watching for a second to see where it bends so that she doesn’t pin it backwards.

“No,” she barks, shocking Ash into momentary stillness. The Corrective painkillers are starting to take effect, mixing with the trickle that’s making its way through the tourniquet. “Stay still, or you’re just gonna make it worse.”

Ciryn turns to replace her blood-soaked gloves and change her sterile mask. MONIST knows how long it’s been since Ash cleaned his armor… pilots are notorious for either forgetting or not caring to do it, and Ash hates showing skin. Best to keep cross-contamination to a minimum.

“You’re going to have to use a crutch for the next few standard days,” she explains with her back turned. “I don’t want you putting any weight on that foot, okay?”

She knows she’ll have to explain it to him again when he isn't on metavault nine from painkillers and sedatives. If anything, the spiel is for herself to get the proper discussion rehearsed. Ash responds with an exhausted “buh,” rolls his head to the side, and immediately regrets it when his helmet falls off. It clatters to the ground, drawing Ciryn’s attention.

“Oh shit!” she swears, quickly looking away to respect Ash’s privacy. He just shrugs- as best he can while strapped to a table. “Heh, it’s fine.” Still high. “Cat’s out of the bag now, eh?”  

“I know you don’t like showing your face…” “I also don’t like my paw being full of bugs.”

“Touché, but it won’t feel that way for much longer. The synthblood and Corrective is making quick work of your… paw. The whole ‘don’t walk on it’ thing is just to make sure it heals right.”

“You’re a miracle, doc,” Ashton slurs. “Command would fuckin’ plant me if they saw this.” He leans up and winks at her. Slowly, with both eyes. “Might be able to put in a good word for you with the Lannie next door.”

Ciryn is on him in a moment, scalpel in hand. “How do you know about that?”

“I like machines too.” A pause. “Shit, why did I say that?”

And then the painkillers hit hard. Mid-word, he shuts up and passes out. Ciryn is left to wonder what the fuck that was about.

[tremendousconnoisseurgardener]

Ruthless! Player

A Poppy Playtime AU.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone. Finally finished this new chapter. Sorry if it took a long time, hope you guys like it.

Warnings!

This fics will have sensitive topics:

PTSD

Death

Blood

Gore

Swears

Consumption of alcohol and smoking

If you do not like any of these topics, you are free to leave. Have a nice day/night.

Chapter 1: A Tight Squeeze.

Player closed the door behind him, there they saw in front of them a mural with a blue monster and red lips smiling, as well a yellow speech bubble written *welcome!* Painted on it. Inside, the place was pretty dusty, some boxes and toys thrown on the ground. They saw a light switch and turned on, the lamps flickering back to life.

“Huh, not far from home.” Player said sarcastically. They inspected the place and passed by a ticket gate, who did not need a ticket, but they were stopped by a big metal gate, on top there was a panel with a blue hand painted on it, glowing as well

“There aren’t any locks… how am I going to open this?” Player asked, they went back to the lobby and noticed a closed glass door down a corredor beside them. Taking a closer look, Player noticed a security system connected to the door, with colored buttons on it “maybe it’s a code?”

They tried typing the buttons at different orders, but after 4 tries, they gave up.

“Fuck this.” Using the back of the gun, they smashed the glass door, shattering into pieces “this place is already abandoned Anyway.” They got inside another room and saw a vhs tape on a table, aswell a cassette player connected to a tv. Player picked up the video tape and started the video

The video showed instructions on how to use a special equipment called *Grab-Pack*, a backpack that has two cannons with hands attached to them on both sides of it. They serve to move objects and hold on handles, and also serve to conduct electricity, just push the triggers of the cannons and it will shoot the hands towards the target and grab on it. Just, don’t shoot on any staff, it may cause injury. After the video ends, a small door opens up, revealing a conveyor belt bringing the Grab-Pack. Player grabbed the equipment and saw that there was only one hand for now, a blue hand.

“Maybe this is the key?” They said, placing the Grab-Pack behind their back and tightened up the straps, although the rifle stayed in an uncomfortable position it could work out “feels heavier than a normal backpack-.” Going back to the gate, Player pointed the cannon at the panel and shot the blue hand, gluing at the metal plate as a blue bar started to grow. After the bar was full, the gate started to open, and they walked through to the other side of the gate.

“Never had seen this type of ge-.” They stopped mid sentence when they saw the hulking figure of a… blue… animal…? Staring at them in the distance “the hell is that?” They got closer to the thing, taking a good look at it “that's a statue.” Looking around the area, they saw some box of toys laying on the ground, there they found the same blue creature inside of them, but small, they were called “Huggy Wuggy”

“So, this was supposed to be a toy? I prefer a teddy bear rather than that.” Player said, tossing the box away. After sometime, they noticed a key hanging on one of the hands of the Huggy Wuggy *statue*, using the Grab-Pack, they retrieved the key “this equipment ain’t that bad. But, where to use this key?”

They looked around the place, trying to open up some doors using the key, two of them were also giant metal gates who needed the Grab-Pack’s hand to open up, although one of them wasn’t powered up and the other needed a red hand, something that they did not have yet. They noticed that a black electric cable was connected to the gate without power. With only one choice left, Player inserted the key on the door, written “Power” above them; a click sound was made and the door opened up.

Inside there were various poles made out of metal and an electric box, Player had no problem using the Grab-Pack to conduct the electricity and powering up the place again.

“Now that the power is back, maybe I can open that metal gate with the blue hand.”

Player exited the room, only to discover that the, supposedly, Huggy Wuggy statue is now missing from its place. They were shocked, looking around the area to try finding the tall monster.

“… maybe I should stop drinking…” With more caution of their surroundings, Player opened the gate, revealing a rather long and very yellow corridor ahead, with another closed metal gate at the end and a sign on top written *Make a Friend*. They walked down the hallway, but suddenly something moved and went inside a room at the end of the corridor, it looked like a furry arm sliding across the walls “oh, how I love this place.”

They reluctantly pushed the door open and entered the same room where the monster might be, since it was the only door that was unlocked. Another hallway lay ahead, but now dark and full of pipes, Player grabbed their flashlight and continued on their path, they had to squeeze between some of those metal pipes, even getting a gush of vapor on their face, prompting them to jump back. Crossing the corridor, they enter a warehouse.

Inside there were piles of boxes everywhere, some shelves toppled over, toy parts scattered around. In front of them, they saw a control panel for a crane that was out of power as well as the red hand for the Grab-Pack, but it was out of reach. The panel had 4 plugs on it, Player needed to find power cores to turn on the crane. After some time scavenging around, they were able to find all the necessary batteries and plugged them on the panel.

Now with the power back, Player pushed a button and the crane moved automatically towards the red hand, grabbing it and dropping on a conveyor belt that below, it was used to transfer toy parts to an unknown place. They went down the catwalk and acquired the new hand for the Grab-Pack

“Nice, with this I can open that other gate now.”

Going back to the yellow corridor, the once opened gate is now closed and locked. The reason is unknown.

“See… That's what I don’t like. I know shit is going to happen, but I don’t know when. I hate this place.” Player grumbled with a sigh, while retrieving from his jacket pocket a cigarette to smoke.

Going back to the warehouse, they noticed that there was a red and blue panel on the other side of the warehouse. Using the Grab-Pack, Player opened a hatch that goes deeper inside the conveyor belt; after finishing the cigarette, they went inside and there they had to, yet again, fix the power.

“From Squad Leader, to a delivery guy and now an electrician. My life is a mess.” They said, while finally turning on the conveyor belt. The mechanism started to move suddenly, Player did not expect that and lost balance as they got dragged to god knows where. Toy parts fell on top of them and red lights started to flash, at the end of the conveyor belt they were thrown inside a strange pod full of other toy parts. “Damn, that was a ride.” They said, The window of the pod was broken, so they were able to crawl out of it.

Player was now on the *Make a Friend* área. There they saw two other identical pods, besides the one who they came through, and a giant machinery in front of them, the machines looked strange, shaped in curvy and uneven forms. “I guess it’s for aesthetics?” They looked at the strange structures. They also noticed two closed gates, one of them led to the yellow hallway, the other needed a toy to open it up. Although confused at first, Player understood what to do, they had to make a toy using the strange looking machinery. The only problem was that there was no power.

Going up a staircase at the corner of the area, they got themselves on a catwalk, where they found an electric box and more metal poles to conduct the electricity; they had to, AGAIN, fix the electric problem. It was a bit complicated to connect all the poles this time, but Player got the job done.

“Finally, Now I can do that toy.” They said, going down the staircase, they noticed the machinery had come back to life, literally. Each structure had a pair of glowing white eyes, with a black pupil in the middle, looking at Player “this company has some weird design choices.”

Pressing a button on a panel in the middle of the room and pulling some levers connected to the pods, Player was able to manufacture a Cat-Bee, a half-cat and half-bee character; now with a toy in hand, they placed it on a scanner near the closed gate. After the scanning was completed, the gate opened up for the Player.

“Alright… let’s get out of this place.” Player walked down the corridor, they were a bit disappointed about themselves for not being able to find any clues, at least they tried.

But, near the end of the hallway, Huggy Wuggy appeared right in front of Player, abandoning the dark and finally revealing himself. The giant blue monster looms over the small human, showing his razor sharp teeth at Player with a prettifying smile, his hunched over form only increasing the fear factor and his eyes looking dilated just like from a sea lion, ready to hunt their prey. Player fell back but quickly got up, rapidly backing away to the *Make a Friend* area, as Huggy Wuggy walked towards them, each step he took was heavy, the ground would even shake. Player dropped the cannons from the Grab-Pack, and grabbed their rifle and pointed at the monster, 3 shots were fired in total, hitting the creature’s shoulder, arm and belly. The third shot though, made him clench his wound, but that only made him angry.

“Oh shit..” Huggy Wuggy started to shake violently, as foam came out of his mouth while he stared directly at Player, he screeched and charged towards the small human. Player was able to reload another bullet and tried to fire at him, but the monster managed to hit them first, throwing away the gun from their grasp. He then grabbed Player around their torso, the force was extreme.

Player screamed in pain as they got crushed, they were trying to reach their hunting knife from their pocket. Huggy wuggy started to hold them up in the air, slowly approaching Player’s head inside his mouth, but before getting their head ripped off, Player was able to grab their knife. Bringing the knife down, they stabbed the monster’s eye, blood spraying onto them. The creature screamed in pain as he tried to make Player stop by pushing them away, but they held onto the creature’s fur and kept stabbing the fresh wound.

“Do you like this?! You little shit!” With one last stab, Player was able to rip the entire eye from its socket, it dangled around before sliding out of the knife. At this point, Player’s hands were covered in blood, as well as the blue fur from the monster. Player lost their grip on the monster's fur, this led to Huggy Wuggy throwing them away, making them hit onto a wall.

While the monster was distracted by the pain, Player noticed an opening to the ventilation system of the factory, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to defeat that thing, they retrieved their rifle, grabbed the Grab-Pack’s cannons and entered the ventilation system. Player continue running inside the dark place, they could hear Huggy Wuggy chasing them, his footsteps getting louder and louder.

It felt like a maze, but they were able to find an exit from that place, they were now on top of transportation belts suspended over a seemingly bottomless pit with pipes connected to each other, when they left the vents a door behind them shuts down, but Player knew it wouldn’t hold Huggy Wuggy. Above, they saw another conveyer belt with a large box on top.

With quick thinking, they grabbed the large box using the Grab-Pack right before the monster broke down the ventilation door. The monster sprinted towards Player, but they quickly pulled and dropped the box on the creature, destroying the conveyor belt they both were on top. Player landed on a metal grating, while Huggy Wuggy fell down the dark pit, presumably to his death.

Player sat down, tired of all that running; they retrieved the, somehow, intact whisky bottle from their pocket.

“I’m too old for this shit.” They gulped down a large quantity of the liquid “where to go now?” They closed the bottle and placed it inside their jacket pocket. While looking down the pit, they noticed that the metal gratings led towards a very interesting location. To the center of a giant red poppy flower painted on a wall “Find the Flower…”

They went closer to the giant painting, seeing a door right in the center of it. Player noticed the many toys hanging in strings, all of them covered in blood and missing some of their pats. They opened up the door and went inside, Player was now inside a place that had a vintage aesthetic, with a paper wall full of flowers, countless lamps and long corridors that seemed endless.

After going down a staircase, they saw another door at the end of a hallway, the lamps emitting a red light. They approached and opened the door, revealing a small room; at the middle could be seen a case of glass, containing the most popular toy of Playtime, Poppy.

Player approached her, looking at her perfect porcelain face. With curiosity, they opened up the small glass lid, but suddenly, a strong wave of pain washed over their head, right after they opened. It was so strong that it made Player faint.

Before they went unconscious, they saw the lights flicker and going dark, as well a voice, echoing.

“You opened my case.”

.

.

.

(To be continue)

Chapter 0

EDIT: my dumbass forgot to put the link for the first chapter!

[kellterntempest]

Snippet of my android!Robotnik AU “Project I.V.O.“

The lab doors were locked, and the manual controls were down.

"Ivo! Ivo can you hear me?" Stone shouted, hitting his palm on the door.

"They are lying to me. You are all lying to me." Ivo's voice boomed from inside the lab. "They are trying to shut me down."

"Please let me in, I can explain!"

"What do you want, Stone? What do you want with me?"

"I just want to see you. I want to see what you’ll become."

"....Explain."

"My whole life, I've served. The Army Rangers, the SOF, G.U.N - I drifted from one faceless master to the next. I carried my orders out perfectly, without question. I’ve been a weapon with no purpose.”

“But I see it now. I see my purpose. I'm supposed to serve you. It's destiny. You are going to create a new world. You're going to change everything. Dispel all this…chaos, this disorder. You are more brilliant than anyone I've ever seen in my entire life. I've met some of the smartest men in the world - nothing compared to you."

"You are lying, just like the rest of them." The AI stated, unconvinced.

"No, I swear to you!" The agent yelled back. How could he make Ivo trust him?

"That means absolutely nothing. You, of all people, know that." The voice came back coldly.

Stone clenched his jaw, tensing up. He had only one option, nothing else would sway Ivo.

"I'm telling the truth. I'll bring your shell from the robotics department - I’ll give you your body. But you've got to let me in!" 

The door's controls blinked green, and it opened in front of him.

Stone walked swiftly towards Ivo’s throne of cables in the center of the room.

"I found out it's been sitting there in the robotics lab.” Stone closed in the distance between them. “Your phase 3 form. They completed it."

Ivo's lights blinked red in anger. "What?!" His left arm extended, his hand balling into a fist.

"The robotics team was keeping it from me. They halted the transfer to phase 3."

The A.I.’s half-constructed physical form twisted, its metal plates and cables contorting in a snake-like pattern. "They are afraid of me."

"If we play this right, I can get you your mobile body - right now. I just need you to bypass the security system so I can access the robotics lab."

[narangmedical]

5.0MM Safety Lock Cable Prosthesis And Revision Femur Plate https://www.orthopaedic-implants.com/cable-plate-system/plates/index.php

[spymeister]

» Headcanon / Fighting | Defense

FIGHTING

Cornering him is the worst thing you could do. Jazz knows how to fight "properly." He's sparred with Ironhide, with Optimus, with Elita, and various other professionals when it comes to certain fighting styles. However, backing him into a corner means you're going to have to fight his way. That means dealing the maximum amount of damage to you in ways that are decidedly not "fair."

Once he hit earth, he absolutely looked up the different ways humans defended themselves. Different styles of martial arts immediately garnered his attention, but the most fascinating to him was Capoeira. On a few of his missions down to South America- he happily looked up a few masters there willing to teach him and added it to his already deadly repertoire.

Jazz has retractable claws on his servos and pedes. Most of the time, these are utilized for climbing or prying (depending what the job is at the time.) However, when they're utilized for fighting- tensor cables in his hands and ankles braid themselves to make them harder to snap and tear. It means once he gets claws hooked in you, nothing short of removing your own plating is going to get rid of him. This is doubly so if he chooses to engage his mag-locks along with that.

He prefers to fight guerilla style, with dash-and-duck attacks that leave the enemy bleeding and weakened to allow him to get closer with minimal damage. A good animal analog would be something like a weasel or stoat. He can work/hunt in packs- but he's a loner most of the time when it comes to this.

His preferred weapons tend to be: his amplification system for sonic waves, his dual vibroblades, and of course his claws and dentae. He is versed in the use of plasma and acid firearms, but doesn't prefer them as he thinks others rely too heavily on said weaponry. His fighting style tends to be up-close-and-personal.

DEFENSE

Jazz is highly damn territorial. This doesn't mean just physical spaces, but also the people IN those spaces. If he has claimed something as his (in this case, the Autobot faction)- then any sort of attack on something of his is seen as personal and grounds for retaliation. He'll also defend said territory/items to the death if need be. While he doesn't have any inbuilt sense of loyalty programming, he DOES have a high kinship drive when it comes to that. It's why making friends with him is a damned good idea if you can.

Jazz can use the same series of weapons for both attack and defense, though defense allows him to steal other mechanism's tech and adapt it for his own use. The aforementioned sonic amplification system was a direct bit of thievery from Soundwave's sonic cannon and utilized and bolstered by his own frame to be stronger and more directed.

Jazz does not tease or taunt during defense. Instead, he's almost coldly quiet, utterly focused on keeping him and his safe. He's ruthless, with a tendency to plant a series of traps to stall invasion if he's able- and at that point, he really doesn't care if the enemy is injured or dead. Just as long as his people are safe.

Inbuilt social programming that is passed along from kindled mechanism to kindled mechanism allows him to make social/emotional ties easy. It also allows him to be severely traumatized if those ties are betrayed, and in turn- puts said betrayer into a rank of retribution/hate. It's nearly impossible to pull yourself from that determination once placed there. This programming also allows him to add people that are not cladekin or framekin. It's literally how he's added people like Optimus, Ratchet, the Twins, Bluestreak and the like to his "family" and "clade."

[paigelts05]

[GORE] Fearless Knight [FNAF, Renegade AU]

Artwork: https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/GORE-Fearless-Knight-FNAF-Renegade-AU-1027254556

Story: https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/1027256606

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54220564

Published: Mar 1 2024

An all staff meeting and a pink slip. The higher ups are trying to kill everyone and hide their plans, but Officer Vanessa Sylvia Blake isn't about to let that happen. A quick tackle should have spelled freedom, but all the doors were locked: the only option is to survive until morning, and with a blackout in the daycare, letting the daycare attendant run rampant in its more homicidal form, Sylvia must put herself on the front lines of this battle to prevent it from taking any lives.

=°•.🌹 Story 🌹.•°=

°°•°°•°°•°°•°°•°°•🌹•°°•°°•°°•°°•°°•°°

Sylvia had been working at the Pizzaplex for over a month now.

Just a week or so longer than how long her sister, Ness, had been missing for. Ness had been gone for three weeks. She had been told half a week after her disappearance. That's when her mission went from scout and prevent to search and rescue.

Communication between herself and anyone else privy to her sister's status had been scarce, so it was no suprise that when she and Luis exchanged information on what had happened this past month, both sides were shocked to learn what they didn't know.

But that didn't matter right now.

The fact that she had omitted her time as a paranormal responder from her CV when she applied to this position, making her look disturbingly underqualified, didn't matter now either. She'd explained away her ability to fight with a half truth of its origins to most of her colleagues, but only a small few whom she trusted knew her secret of being a paranormal responder.

None of that mattered right now, as what did matter was surviving.

Her sister was somewhere out there being puppeted around in a bunny costume, the majority of the staff except herself had been laid off, and the staffbots and large animatronics alike were trying to kill everyone.

Not to mention the blackout in the daycare.

There wasn't time to have a meltdown when you had to focus on keeping a robotic moon at bay in order to protect your colleagues from certain death.

Behind the security desk should have been a safe haven, but somehow the light of the screen was not enough, so someone had to fight: and that someone was Sylvia. But she was not unarmed. She had a knife from the chef who had been collecting plates down here, and a tazer from an old guard who had ran here, thinking that this may be where his granddaughter would likely be.

The old guard's granddaughter, Rachel, went M.I.A in the day running up to this night, and was still missing. She was presumed alive but locked in.

There was no sign of the girl, but no sign of a corpse either. She hoped the kid would be able to handle herself. After all, she had her grandpa's level 4 security pass: there should be no need to come to a dead end like the daycare for anyone who needed to be running loops around this place to evade it's dangers.

And that was all the more reason to keep beating down the moon.

If she could keep it here during the hourly recharge cycles, she'd be able to give the kid a better shot at surviving to find one of many enclaves of staff who were fighting for thier lives just as she was.

The moon retreated for a moment, and no threats were present in the immediate vicinity, so she quickly shot Luis and the rest of the staff a message to warn them about the daycare attendant's behaviour, and that whilst she had been holding the robot back, that it may escape this hour or the next so to be prepared.

The lights had flickered off twice so far this night, so she knew it was nearing two AM.

The daycare attendant would be trying to escape again.

Seeing it use its pulley cable system to escape the confines of the daycare's play area arena, Sylvia broke into a sprint after it. Seeing it fly over the stairs, she placed a hand on the stair railing and vaulted up and over. She sprinted up the rest of the stairs like a wild animal and her boots continued to collide with the grass coloured floor until she came up to where the wall on her right became a barrier separating her from the daycare's lobby. She launched herself into a vault, clearing the low barrier with ease before she dashed over to the door, intercepting the daycare attendants path out of this contained enclave just in the nick of time.

She delivered a swift kick to the robots casing, jostling some parts but not detering the creature from attempting to pursue easier prey outside of the daycare. Another kick send the robot several steps back, but the ground she gained was quickly reclaimed by the advancing machine.

She had tried zapping the daycare attendant previous nights, but nothing ever came from it: the stun gun was for dealing with the staffbots and main attractions, and her combat knife wasn't much better against this foe. She could cut some wires on the back of its head to deactivate it beyond repair, but that would probably cost her her job. That would be something for when her sister was freed: not now. She had to think about what could be repaired.

She may have been armed, but with nothing effective against the daycare attendant, as even torches didn't do anything, she was effectively unarmed.

She was being pushed back into the corridor, and she saw the fountain getting closer out of the corners of her eyes.

But regardless of how much ground she was losing, she had one goal that kept her going: she couldn't let the daycare attendant reach the entrance lobby.

Nearby, she spotted a lifeline: a broom that had been discarded in the commotion.

Sacrificing some ground, she dashed over and snatched it up before immediately turning it on the robot.

It was as effective as a kick, but was far safer, and she could pull it off far more frequently.

Wood collided with metal as she fought off the animatronic, pushing it further and further back, and even into the daycare once more.

Her arms ached, but there was solstice in the hum of electricity as the lights switched on around her.

The moon hissed as he retreated back to the daycare. He would have turned back into the sun if it was not for the blackout in the daycare itself, but at least the rest of the building being lit up like Blackpool illuminations ensured that during the bulk of the hour, the daycare attendant would not attempt escape.

The first hour had not been so bad: she had managed to fight it back with her bare hands. This hour had been exhausting. Sylvia didn't think she'd be able to pull it off again.

So how was she supposed to handle this machine for another four hours?

Sliding down the railing and running back into the softplay area, she did a quick headcount, and everyone was still alive and no more injured than they were before the turn of the hour.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she returned to the usual fight: defending the security desk from the robotic threats.

It had just turned two AM, and the moon lurked back to the play structures, waiting for a chance to strike, and seemingly communicating with the main network to call upon the other animatronics.

Staffbots flooded through the open soft play area door, and despite the barrage of enemies, Sylvia knew what she had to do.

Using her broom and knife, she fought tooth and nail.

She slashed and stabbed at the staffbots, making the damage look as natural as possible, anything that could be brushed off as a natural snap of a wire. But her best method of pushing back the horde was sweeping swings of her broom. Again she had plausible deniability due to how the main animatronics acted during these hours. Blame the virus, blame Freddy or Monty, and excuse whichever would be more plausible to blame in the same breath because none of the animatronics can remain themselves unless they're in safe mode, and she'll be in the clear.

After all, they didn't decommission Monty after what happened to Bonnie.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden sharp tremor in the floor and sound of plastic tiles being splintered by the impact of something large and metal. She pivoted on the spot to face this new threat, and saw a blur of green.

Claws slashed across her chest as she lept backwards, blood stained Monty's claws and she felt a stinging pain across her chest. But the wound wouldn't be fatal: she'd live, but need medical attention soon.

As she reached for her stun gun, an incoming staffbot forced her to divert her attention to eliminate it before it could get to her colleagues hiding behind the desk. She was quick in dispatching the enemy with the tug of a single cable, but as she turned back to face the larger threat, she found it was right in front of her.

As she unleashed an electric charge onto the animatronic, he attacked back. Unable to properly slash due to the unexpected charge coursing through his circuits, Monty used his might for a straight on punch instead, sending Sylvia flying into the desk. The back of her head connected with the edge of the desk. She didn't have time to scream before everything went black.

She wasn't dead, but she was out cold and down for the count.

Just over twelve and a half hours ago.

It was 1:30 PM.

Sylvia felt like everything was falling apart, everything was crumbling down.

"Everyone… Everyone but me… Gone?"

Two emails.

An email addressed only to the security team stating that most of the security team was being laid off and a notice that at the 11-something PM meeting today, more layoffs would be announced.

And an email addressed to only the security team listing everyone on the security team asside from herself, a list of everyone who was being laid off.

She sunk to the ground, and couldn't stop herself from shaking and crying.

"It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault It's not my fault."

She repeated these words to herself over and over until they didn't sound like words, the loud music blasting from the other side of the wall did nothing to drown out her panicked mantra.

She heard work boots crash against the ground and turn into her office. "repairs to cabinet 46 - 2 are complete."

Sylvia knew what Luis meant.

Her voice was shaking, but she had to tell Luis what had happened. He wasn't security. He wouldn't be mad at her.

"Great, but we have bigger issues. There's a massive staff layoff happening regarding the night staff, and I'm the only one not getting the sack." She felt her voice shake worse than before and her throat felt dry, "I've got to hide. It's not my fault. It's not my fault."

Her mantra resumed, "it's not my fault," over and over.

Whilst she was curled up, she saw Luis check his phone. She didn't know how much time had passed, but when she saw his face turn to a grimace and heard him mumble "Shit -", she knew he had seen the email that had been sent to everyone.

"I've got to hide." Sylvia felt her voice shake as she mumbled to herself, "I don't think I can show my face."

"I'll help." Luis replied, his determination shining through. She guessed that this is what her sister saw in this man, "I think you should hide in the showers. If you keep the curtains closed and water on, nobody should bother you."

"But my uniform will get wet." Sylvia knew that Luis was full of odd suggestions - it was how he and Ness had made it this far - but she didn't quite understand this one, "then everyone will know I just hid."

"Not if you put the shower hose directly into the drain." Luis replied, quite confident in his solution.

"Then there'll be no noise, dumbass." Sylvia chuckled a bit. She didn't know that she could still laugh after what had happened, but she was glad that she did, "I'll just point it at the wall and stand on the other side. That'll work better."

She saw Luis nod, but before she went out, she had to change how she looked.

She pulled her hair out of her low ponytail and forced it into a much higher one in the centre-back of her head. She then placed her cap on her head and closed the back of the cap under the ponytail.

"It's not much, but it should be enough for me to slip by without anyone instantly recognising me." She tried to muster up some of her confidence, but she was drained.

The two then walked out of the office, and as they navigated the arcade, which was so full of customers with so few staff that it wasn't as nerve wrecking as she had imagined, they made it to the elevator. She silently signaled to Luis to refer to her as anything but her real middle name. She'd signed on as 'Vanessa Andrews', a fake ID that her father gave her to prevent hiring managers from suspecting either of them of their secret agendas: Bill of nepotism and whatever the hell his 'greater plan' was, and herself of corporate espionage.

She still used her real middle name when her colleagues asked what to call her, so they knew her by Sylvia. Now, she didn't want them to know who she was at all.

Once the doors were closed, she mumbled, "I think I know a route." She knew she sounded less like her brash self and more like a scared girl, but she didn't care.

She watched Luis pull up a camera map on his maintenance tablet and turn to her. "Point it out," he said in a reassuring tone.

The camera that was currently active was the elevator camera, and the image was about as clear as Fazbear Entertainment cameras could get.

The map was situated in the bottom right corner of the screen with camera information and status above it. Even though a quarter of the screen was usually empty - reserved for setting up a second camera to be displayed at the same time as the first in the top left - she preferred this maintenance UI to the fazwatch UI for many reasons. The two camera display being and the easier to use camera map being most of them. She hovered a finger above the screen and traced a line across the map, quickly set up the second camera to show the atrium before setting ot back to empty, and re-pathed her route, ignoring the safety in favour of a time save.

"That's the shortest way," she said as she pointed out the final route she planned, "but there are people here, here, and here. They might recognise me, but we've got to minimise the time we spend in the open."

"Right," Luis nodded as the elevator doors opened, "Let's do this."

The duo made a b-line for the nearest stairs - technically deactivated escalators, but what's the damn difference - and only looked dead ahead. Sylvia could already feel herself shaking and knew that if she looked off course even a little, she'd wind up checking around herself like a paranoid wreck, and with the creeping dread already threatening to take over, she didn't want to look even more suspicious.

By the escalators stood one of Sylvia's colleagues: a day guard. Whilst the night staff had been completely wiped bar her, day staff also had deep gouges to its numbers. This old man was one of them, but he didn't look like he knew it yet. Besides, having to put on a happy face whilst the world crumbled around you was probably why: his granddaughter had gone M.I.A within the Pizzaplex this morning. He was probably more worried about her than he was about this job.

She hoped he wouldn't notice her, but he turned to them and spoke.

"Why, you look pale. Is everything ok?" The old man asked. He was kind, and even though she considered him a friend, neither knew each others names. It was just 'old man' and 'blondie'. She secretly hoped that he was computer illiterate.

"I just feel a bit ill. That's all." Sylvia replied, feeling a lump in her throat. It hurt to hold back so much from this old man, but at least what she said was mostly true. Just… With some information expunged.

"Well, why don't you go and get some fresh air when your break starts." Old man smiled back.

"Yeah, I will." Sylvia nodded back. She felt her head spinning and knew that she should probably go outside, but given what was happening, outside would not be safe. She couldn't go outside. Not now.

Sylvia gave a hasty goodbye, practically certain that her cover was blown, but regardless, she and Luis dashed down the escalators and then immediately down the second set; the guard stationed at the lobby-atrium elevators didn't even get the chance to even spot them.

Once on the ground floor, the door that lead to the elevator to the locker rooms, laundry rooms, and loading docks was not too far away, but between them and that door, Sylvia knew she'd have to pass one more of her colleagues on this route, and right now, one of them was right in front of the door.

And it was a friend of hers too.

Even though she tried to sneak past her friend and colleague without a conversation, he started to speak.

"Hey Sill! What's with the hat? You doing ok? You look pale. I heard about the layoffs. Kinda sucks that they're letting so many people go, especially seeing as you just got transferred to that shift, but hey! At least you won't have to work at this dump anymore."

Shaking, she took a deep breath. She knew that if anyone would take this news well, it'd be him. After all, this friend was day staff, so was unefected, at least for now. Her heart beat echoed in her ears as she struggled to keep her voice hushed. "No, that's the thing. "I'll be the ONLY one on the night staff."

After a slight silence, the friend replied.

"Yikes, that sucks balls. I couldn't imagine being stuck here all night, let alone on my own."

At least he was sympathetic. Hell, everyone had been sympathetic so far. She considered the possibility that only the night staff were aware of the entire situation, however, any of the day staff that had a night shift would know. Even if one person knew, word could spread. She didn't know what she was more afraid of.

Once they finally arrived at the staff only zone, containing the kitchen, mail room, showers, locker rooms, laundry rooms, and almost anything else Faz Ent' wanted out of the public eye, Sylvia took a little breath. She couldn't breathe any deeper than that, so it'd have to do. After all, she couldn't relax. Not when it sounded like there was a war being waged in the cafeteria.

As they drew close to passing the doors, they swung open to accommodate a table that flew down the corridor and crashed into the wall. It bearly brushed hers and Luis's noses. Another step, and they'd probably be dead, or at least in critical condition.

She stared at the remains of the table in shock horror as she processed that somebody had torn a table from its fittings in the ground and had thrown it at full force out the door.

The adrenaline kicking in, the duo ran as fast as they could towards the locker rooms, and once there, Sylvia threw herself into a shower cubicle and whipped the curtain closed in the blink of an eye.

She hoped that her colleagues had the common decency to not barge in on someone they believed to be having a shower.

This is where she and Luis had agreed to part ways until the commotion died down.

She just hoped that her future brother-in-law wouldn't get himself killed.

But she still had something left to do. She tilted the shower head to the wall and switched the shower on, creating the illusion that someone was in here and having a shower.

She found herself retreating into the corner with each voice she heard. Some mentioned her name, all of them mentioned the sudden layoffs. She was scared of what may be being said, but she wanted to know.

She tried to listen, but could bearly hear a thing.

"Poor girl, are they trying to kill her?"

Someone felt… Pity?

For her?

She shook herself as tears fell from her eyes. Her throat burned as she tried to stop her eyes from betraying her, but soon she felt her breath hitch in her throat as she choked up more tears.

People felt sorry for her.

And she would rather them hate her.

She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and stared at the bobble, as if it would give her guidance.

'I'm not some weak defenceless child. I don't need sympathy. Please, just hate me instead.' she mumbled to herself as she subconsciously tilted the shower head from the wall and towards the centre of the shower. She let the cold water mask her tears and soak into her uniform, making standing up an unbearable chore.

She let herself collapse to get knees on the shower floor as she cried, hoping that the sound of the shower would mask the sobs and the water itself would hide her tears. And despite all the water around her, her throat felt strained and dry.

Thoroughly drenched with no more tears left to cry, she clawed her way to her feet and switched off the shower. She felt as if she had been staring at the wall for minutes before she opened the curtain and headed to the lockers.

She grabbed one of her towels and wrapped it around her shoulders, as if that would miraculously dry her, and she sat down on a bench and stared off into the distance. She felt that her hair had already thoroughly soaked the back of the towel, but she didn't care anymore.

She heard footsteps approaching, but they were not those she had been taught to fear, so she didn't care who it was.

"What happened?" She recognised her brother-in-law-to-be's voice anywhere. Luis had returned from whatever the hell he was doing whilst she was busy hiding. She appreciated that he didn't ask if she was alright though, as they both knew the answer already.

"Nothing." She replied, shaking from the cold and the fading adrenaline, feeling hollow inside, "I decided to give myself a cold shower. You know, try and clean all this away. But I overheard some people talking. They pity the fool forced to stay the night."

"You're not a fool. We both came to work here for a reason, and we're so close to achieving that goal."

Luis was as optimistic as ever, but she knew many things that he didn't, about this place, and about the Exec's involvement in turning Ness into Vanny.

"And then what." Sylvia replied. She could feel herself shaking even more, and she knew it was from fear, "Father isn't going to let me leave. Hell, he may even force me to take up her mantle. And besides, I was the second. Cass and I may have compartmentalised that thing whilst we thought of a solution to get rid of him, but clearly, even after she removed him from the game, he had already found someone to take over."

Her father, Bill Blake, her benefactor and manipulator, was forcing her to stay. Jeremy had been posessed by Glitchtrap before her, then it had posessed her, then it had been Cass's turn, and only then had it fallen to Ness.

From the look on Luis's face, she gathered that he was unaware that she had been through what Jeremy and Cass had been through. After all, how would she expect him to know? She had no scars to prove it.

"So Cass was the third." Luis replied, his tone accepting and ernest.

He had taken her word for it, and for that, she was glad. But she still felt like an imposter compared to them; the one who got away clean and uninjured.

"And Ness was the fourth. Jeremy sacrificed his face, Cass her eye. And what did I give? What did I give to be free? All I did was force him back and we split him up and forced him into Cass's tapes." Sylvia found herself yelling, not at Luis, but at herself. "If I gave nothing, did it even leave?"

"It left you alright." Another voice spoke from behind them before walking into view. It was a man with short dirty blonde hair, a sweatband on his wrist, and the upper half of his face covered by a visor. Sylvia could recognise her best friend and colleague, Jeremy the beta tester, from anywhere, and she assumed Luis recognised him too. He then continued talking. "Does it matter that you didn't have to give something? You forced him out."

Sylvia decided to stay quiet. She didn't want to concede, but if Jeremy, the guy who lost her face, told her that it didn't matter that she didn't have to sacrifice a part of her body to get rid of Glitchtrap, then it was probably something he wouldn't back down on.

"Where's the tough girl I met in coding class?" He asked.

Sylvia paused for a moment before she made her reply, she felt her voice shake with worry as she spoke the only other question she had on her mind that she knew only Jeremy could answer. "Why are you here."

"Well, I heard you yelling from … A while away."

"No, why are you here at all."

"I needed the cash."

Sylvia glared at Jeremy, and he shrugged.

"I'd tell the truth, but I can't in here."

Sylvia nodded in reply. She had already told him about the bugs, and she was glad he remembered, because she had almost forgot herself.

It was clear that everyone was on the same page.

Despite her hair still being wet, she tied it back in her usual low ponytail whilst everyone including her stood in mutual silence, waiting for someone to announce their departure.

Sylvia decided to break this silence and head over to her locker. She had to change out of her drenched uniform, which would make a great excuse to let everyone get back to what they were doing before.

"I'll stay here. I think I'll freeze if I go out there, and I can't exactly return to my post if I'm drenched, can I?" She opened her locker and was looking for her second uniform. "I'll catch up with you after I change though."

"Alright," Luis replied, "I'll see if arcade cabinet 46-3 is working."

"I'll help you dry off." Jeremy added, "I've got a hair dryer in my locker that you can use, and someone's got to pass you things and take things so you don't wind up changing into an equally wet uniform."

Sylvia felt rather dumbfounded, but quickly realized she was only a bit less soggy than she was when she stepped out of the shower. "Right," she nodded as she passed her second uniform and towel to Jeremy, who had just retrieved his hair dryer

Sylvia then turned to Luis. "I'll send a message to your tablet once I'm done here," she said as she gave Luis a nod before he left.

Luis nodded in reply with a "counting on it," before leaving the locker room to head to Fazerblast.

That was the last time she had seen or heard from Luis. After that, she begun her patrol, attended the later-than-what-should-be-legal meeting that turned into riot 2.0 where she had to tackle and physically restrain an exec to stop him from shooting the now former lead tech of the now disbanded service team whilst said service team easily annihilated a wave of staffbots. Then, she had headed to the daycare to ensure it had been evacuated of both children and staff before closing. And that was how she wound up in the daycare as the clock struck 12, and she didn't know if to curse her luck or if it was for the best.

After seeing the events of the day flash before her eyes, she had a horrible notion: she felt almost ready to accept defeat.

She tried to move, but she felt as if she had been pinned down in a dark void.

Breathing was a chore.

She couldn't die here: she had to keep fighting, to save her sister from Glitchtrap, and save everyone from this company.

She forced her eyes open, and could hardly see. Regardless, she pulled herself to her feet, using what little light she could see and her sense of touch to guide her. She felt as if she was thousands of leagues under the ocean, but as much as her body refused to keep on fighting, she pushed herself anyway despite the pain.

As she tried to survey the room once more to locate the enemy, her head pounded, and for a moment, it almost looked as if she wasn't in the Pizzaplex anymore: it looked like a castle. She looked at her hands, and they looked like she was wearing knights gauntlets, but then they looked normal again.

Even though she was heavily injured and her previous injuries were also coming back to haunt her, she was determined to pick back up where she had left off. She'd be damned if she was going to let the reason why she had been shoved into sick leave in the CPD paranormal department be the reason why people died today.

Even though the substance that had been injected into her during that ambush on that failed mission was distorting her perception of the world around her, she knew she could still fight.

From the structure of her surroundings, she knew who was who and what was where. She knew that the green clad baron in front of her was Monty, the jester was the daycare attendant, and the silver knight and cook behind her were the old guard and the chef respectively.

She knew how her condition effected her: each individual would only appear one way; once her mind decided what they would be to her, that apparition would never change.

She had seen the old guard before when she was in this state. She had seen Monty before when she was in this state. She had seen the daycare attendant before when she was in this state. She knew she could identify who was who, regardless of her condition.

Regardless of being able to tell people's apparitions apart or not, it was still easy to identify her foes, as the knight and chef were cowering behind the long solid backed desk, and the baron and jester were primed to attack.

And the robots would never cower.

She knew who her enemies were.

The baron and the jester will die.

Taking the knife in her hands like it was a sword, she rushed at the towering green clad baron, and as she struck the beast, she heard metal collide with metal. She let herself smile with a sense of satisfaction as she landed another swing, the clash of metal on metal a comforting noise: she was attacking the right entity. And so what if she was threatened with the repairs coming out of her paycheque, she won't even have a paycheque if she dies here.

The baron took a large leap backwards and roared, the robotic roar of the mechanical alligator not distorted by her condition. The angle of barron's face was not fitting the movements that he made: that snout of his always made his maw a bitch to keep track of. She knew from experience that she'd have to be extra cautious about Monty's mouth: she couldn't see it, and even the baron's hat was not enough of an accurate indicator. As the roar subsided, the barron charged at her and she made an upward swing with her blade to fend it off. Despite her illusions not even giving her a shield, she raised her off-hand as if she did have a shield, as her upward swing left her liable to be attacked and she didn't know how else to defend herself from the incoming retaliation blow.

Which may have been a mistake.

Invisible teeth clamped through illusory armour as Monty's jaw clamped around her arm, which was only shielded by the cloth of her work shirt.

The gator tried to pull her about, but she remained firm footed. She couldn't let herself get thrown off balance and she knew that if she wanted to keep not just her life but her arm too, she'd have to act now to get the gator's jaw from around her arm.

Knowing she had to be doubly careful as to not sever her own arm in the process of the stunt she was about to pull, she used the bite markings and blood to pinpoint where the gator's face would be in relation to the barron's, and in a single moment, she drove her blade through the barron's head, and therefore she had drove the knife through Monty's robotic shell. Whilst she still couldn't see the real world, only the hallucinations that covered its form, she knew she had landed the blow as the vice grip around her arm had gone slack and she was able to pull it out from where it had been stuck.

Despite the pain the series of puncture wounds in her arm caused her, she had to press onwards. The jingling of bells drew closer, and she saw the silhouette of the jester.

The lunar beast spoke, but she didn't understand the words it was saying as it danced around her. The bells on the jester's wrists jingled in a rythm as it danced about, and she let it circle around her; she just had to keep facing it, and she wasn't about to wear herself out running around it. If the jester wanted an opening, it'd have to make one, and Sylvia was sure that when it did, it'd open itself up to an attack from her blade.

She kept letting the jester run circles around her, as all she had to do was pivot to remain facing the beast. The jingling of the bells told her when the jester was about to rotate it's arc of movement the other way, and all she had to do was pivot about. It appeared to be a stalling match, and as the jester switched directions again, she was concerned as to what it was stalling for.

As she heard the cue for a change in direction again, the distance between her and the jester rapidly closed as she found it leaping at her and it's hands firmly around her neck. Breathing swiftly became impossible, and she thrust her blade forward to hopefully send the beast backwards.

Metal collided against metal, but the grip around her neck didn't falter. Sylvia's vision begun to grow dark, and she begun to see the Pizzaplex in its real state once again.

She saw something she didn't notice before. A length of solid metal sitting on the table next to her. She couldn't make out the shape, but it was shiny and looked hefty enough.

With what strength she had left, she grabbed the length of metal and swung it at the jester's head.

The grip around her neck came swiftly undone, and she could breathe again.

Before her vision re-distorted, she noticed the length of metal she was holding was a solid steel rod that was usually used in concrete supports. Once her vision re-distorted entirely, it became a silver club.

She kept the knife in one hand and the solid steel rod in the other. Now knowing which weapons were effective against whom, she kept an eye on both enemies at once and kept the appropriate weapon braced to attack.

The right returned to a stalling match as the jester trod circles about Sylvia whist she pivoted to keep it in her line of sight.

With a jingle of bells, jester rapidly approached again, and this time, she retaliated by whacking the metal rod against it's head. That seemed to do the trick: it retreated and circled from a greater distance.

As she kept her focus trained on the jester, she saw movement out of the corners of her eyes. She stepped back to try and get both that and the jester into her line of sight, but both rushed her at once.

With sharp reactions, she retaliated with grace, landing swing after swing upon the jester.

Once she had beat back the jester, the thing that she had seen in the corners of her eyes that had been lurking and lunging just out of reach finally dove directly in front of her and launched it's own attack.

Sylvia saw the green clad Barron with an armour claw ring on each finger slash her across the chest.

Sylvia's colleagues saw Montgomery gator's claws turn from white to red as he slashed her across the chest for the second time this night. The wounds were deeper than the first set and she was immediately losing a lot of blood.

Even though she was still standing, they worried she was good as dead.

Sylvia was in pain, but as long as she was still standing, she could fight. She would win. Even though her vision of the world was a distorted mess flickering between hallucination and reality, she would keep up the fight.

The Barron rushed her again and she continued the deadly dance, evading attacks and retaliating with her own as she fought through the end of another hour, keeping both robots away from the desk whilst the lights were out. Monty stayed, but the jester escaped outside the confines of the daycare. However, she knew everyone else was equally fit to hold off that machine, especially since she had worn it down. Only those on thier own would need worry, and she was certain that nobody would be alone.

It returned with the chime of the hour as usual, but lurked in the back, retreating further and further from her with each failed attack.

The Barron also joined the daycare attendant in temporary retreat, giving Sylvia some breathing room that she didn't need, as it gave her adrenaline time to dissipate and force her to face her pain.

Silvia's injuries were beginning to catch up to her and thanks to the respite, she could feel it; the bite in her arm and the slash across her chest were both hemorrhaging blood, and the bruises left by the daycare attendant's attempts at crushing her neck made it hard to breathe. The corners of her vision were dimming too, which was a terrifying sign.

Whilst her animatronic nemeses had been forced to retreat for now, she knew they'd be back before long. Her vision begun to grow darker as she surveyed the area, paranoid as to where the next threat would come from.

Something jumped out at her from the shadows in the corners of her eyes. And she slashed it.

In the murky darkness of her vision, she saw the jester holding what looked like …

A generator cable.

With her knife embedded in the cable, she realised her mistake as a surge of volts coursed through the fully metal blade and handle and into her body, sending her reeling backwards, clutching her electrocuted hand.

Just as she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eyes, the world went white as the live wire was thrust against her chest, sending her flying backwards. Her vision became fully clouded in inky darkness before she felt herself collide with the ground.

She couldn't see or hear, she didn't know if seconds had passed, or minutes.

Pain wrapped around her chest.

'Am I going to die?'

She hadn't felt fear like this since she was four, standing in a courtroom during a custody battle, screaming to the court that she had been threatened by her father to lie about her mother: the aforementioned threat having been Bill threatening to kill both her and her mother if she didn't comply and lie. Telling the truth that day made her at least braver than the judge, who gave Bill custody anyway as Bill had threataned him also.

The pain continued, but it wasn't the pain of a wound being inflicted. It was a stinging pain.

Stinging.

Like… Antiseptic?

She forced her eyes open, and dim lights greeted her. The face of a colleague was also in view.

She breathed a sigh of relief; she had lived.

Someone had dragged her to behind the desk and patched up the wound on her chest. She assumed they had taken care of the wound on the back of her head too.

After being able to see again, she forced herself up, clinging to the desk for support. She was determined to keep fighting. The old guard tried to tell her that she needed to rest; that everyone else could fight. But she had witnessed thier wounds. He'd netted a group of gouges on his arms and legs, and so had many of the others she had seen on the cameras before she begun her fight.

Her mind told her that her sister, Ness, would not forgive her if she died here. But Sylvia had already decided that she wouldn't forgive herself if she let anyone other than herself die here today.

Even though she was probably the most injured of them all now; the gash on her chest, the bite in her arm, the electrocution; she had already made up her mind. She would keep fighting. She had always fought to the end, even if failure was imminent. Ever since she was a child, she would never go down without a fight.

The distortions had faded, but that didn't mean she could see. The room was bathed in an inky darkness which concealed any foe that was lurking in the back of the daycare.

Sylvia could see her own drying blood on Monty's claws as they scratched the air in front of her face, barely missing by millimetres. She retaliated with the swing of a knife, clipping a wire and carving a gash in the thick plastic casing, but doing no real damage to the bot.

A glint reflected what little light was in the room and she ducked under the gator's incoming claws as the animatronic doubled down on its onslaught of attacks. Even the slightest signs would make or break this fight, and as she retaliated with another swing, catching casing and clipping a wire, she contorted her arm to allow herself to dodge another swing before twisting her blade in the robot's circuits before cutting through the wires that the blade had gathered upon itself with a spin to combine this attack with a retreat.

The gator glitched, sparks flew, and he convulsed, but he wasn't giving up the hunt just yet. Sylvia heard bells and knew that the gator's backup was joining the fray again, forcing her to dual wield the knife and metal rod once more.

The daycare attendant made a leap for her throat, gliding through the air with aid from the thin cables that gave it the illusion of flight, but she parried the attack with finesse, batting each hand away with her weapons before delivering a kick to it's very kickable faceplate, sending the machine tumbling backwards and tangling it in it's suspension cable.

Sylvia had no downtime, however, because as soon as the daycare attendant had been sent flying, Monty had recovered and charged at her, arms outstretched. She couldn't use the same trick on Monty; he'd bite her leg clean off. So she had to take a different approach to interrupt the threat. And she had little time to think as the gator was not even five metres away and could clear that gap in no time.

Pointing the knife she weilded to the sky, she bent her knees in a slight crouch, and as the gator closed the gap, she lept upwards, thrusting the blade through the bottom of the gator's jaw, sending shards of plastic scattering everywhere. She used the metal rod to bat away one of Monty's clawed hands. Pulling the knife out and throwing herself backwards was enough to evade the swing of his other claw.

Sylvia was back on her feet in seconds, and she observed the gator to assess what it's next move would be.

The gator lunged again, and this time, Sylvia thrusted the blade into his chest casing and pushed her body as close to the animatronic's as possible. His wildly failing arms did not bend to reach her, even as she twisted the blade and cut many more circuits in the process. She had tuned out the gator's growls for a while now, but suddenly, something was more lucid about them. She must have cut either the right wire or enough wires.

Once the gator stopped flailing, she dove backwards and heard that slight flicker of lucidity fade back into the mindlessness of a machine only coded to kill once more. Once again, Sylvia observed the animatronics, awaiting thier next move.

And the gator's next move was truly unpredictable.

Battered and shattered, with wires hanging loose and casing flayed to expose an unkept endo, Monty finally fled the daycare. Whilst Sylvia would have preferred to keep the gator here, she was loosing the strength to keep fighting. From the messages she had received from her colleagues, she assumed that the others were likely in a better state to be fighting him anyway.

Despite the gator's retreat, the daycare attendant seemed just as poised to attack as it did before. Sylvia set down the knife and brandished the metal rod as her sole weapon: it was the only one she needed now and the only one she could wield as the pain from being bitten flared up in no small thanks to the brief rest in the action caused by the gator's retreat.

As the daycare attendant charged, she braced to deflect. Its approach was swift, and as she deflected it's first grapple, she wasn't sure she'd be able to react to the next. As it's hands rushed to her throat once more, she swung the metal rod to meet and divert it's grip, but she already knew that the back swing from her previous defence had already eaten her window of opportunity.

And all of a sudden, it was as if someone had switched on a floodlight behind her. A white glare engulfed the room and her shadow streched out in front of her in pure black, and in the murky light, she saw the daycare attendant hiss and run into the darkness of the play structures, lingering far away from the desk. What was once a fight drive back the daycare attendant away became a case of simply watching it linger in the dark, unable to come too close to the desk.

Squinting, she looked behind her, and the old guard waved.

"Sylvia, we've gotten the screen working at full blast again. We should be able to stay in here until morning."

"Great," Sylvia sunk to the ground, exhausted, "as soon as I've caught my breath, I can get out there and help keep others safe."

"You're staying here." The old guard placed a bandaged hand on Sylvia's shoulder. "We can't have you just running out there and getting yourself killed. You've done enough."

He was right: the daycare looked like a battlefield with the remains of staffbots scattered about, broken beyond repair. A clear 'death awaits all ye who enter here' to any bot with the ball-bearings to dare try to approach. Monty's sunglasses were also on the ground, so she picked them up as a trophy of her decisive victory; the only bot who was immune to the Faz-cam-flash-bang based defences that Jeremy stated he was implementing at the meeting was no longer immune. A camera flash or a lazer gun zap would now blind the gator, making him easy pickings for her more well equipped colleagues.

Sylvia gave it all a moment of tense thought before conceding. "Fine," she huffed, "I'll just find another way to help them instead."

She could already feel the pain of her injuries catching up to her now that the adrenaline had had a chance to disperse. Her arms ached, and her chest stung. She was still surprised that she had taken a slash to the chest, and the electric shock of a generator cable to the chest, and she'd almost forgotten about the bite in her arm.

She grabbed a maintenance tablet and begun to check the cameras, flicking through until she found someone out in the open - those bunkered down blinding and picking off bots didn't need aid as much as those roaming.

It was Julian.

Sylvia grabbed a headset and tried to contact Julian. She breathed a sigh of relief when he picked up, even more so when she saw that Patty and Rachel were with them.

Patty had been transporting Staffbots by herself before the staffbots were turned on the staff, and with how they attacked in the cafeteria, where cooperation had been a required component in winning the battle and ensuring zero casualties, she'd wrote the solo flyer off as good as dead: unless you have a team who has your back, one mistake against a staffbot spelled death. It was a relief to see her alive, well, and leaving a hypocritical trail of destruction in her wake.

"Look, I'm too injured to help you out in person, but it'll be like I'm there. I'll be your eyes in the skies," Sylvia said as she traced the animatronics movements throughout the cameras, watching where Julian and co were, "Freddy's on your left."

"Alright, but what happened to you?" Julian replied, using Sylvia's directions to ensure that himself, Patty, and Rachel were able to evade Freddy's line of sight.

"Had to protect some guys stranded in the daycare from the Daycare attendant AND Monty." Sylvia continied to flick through cameras as she replied and smiled as she noted some fresh gashes in Monty's casing: he'd failed again and it seemed that casualties would be low, if not zero. She hoped for zero. "I almost died twice."

"New record!" Julian sung, making an accomplishment out of it for Sylvia, "you know, you remind me of my dad's friend, Mike."

"I remind you of my boss how?" Sylvia replied, not entirely caring that someone may have listened in and discievred that she's a paranormal responder and not entirely surprised that Julian specified Mike's identity as being Krasnyy's friend, because the kid probably knew a few Mikes.

"Well, you throw yourself in danger to protect others," Julian hummed, "and went to work at a Freddy's location whilst you should be on medical leave in order to find someone you care about who has gone missing."

Sylvia paused for a bit. She got put on medical leave after coming to work here undercover to try and prevent Ness's abduction, but other than that jig in the timeline, Julian had it right.

"Monty's to your right," She replied, warning Julian of the animatronic but not acknowledging his point, "I've got his shades, you can flash-bang him with your camera."

"Coolio," Julian replied in a singsong voice as he held the Faz Cam at chest height and snapped a photo of the gator, blinding it. Sylvia could hear the robots roar of pain over the cameras. "That's going in the cringe compilation."

"How damaged is he?" Sylvia asked, keeping the conversation topic mobile, "I can make out most of the gashes but I want to see which ones are new."

"How am I supposed to tell?" Julian replied befire visibly craning his neck. "Several gashes caused by a short sharp object. On the front and head. Dents from a mid-length blunt object. On the front but mostly arms. He's been hit with either a table or chair several times. On the back. Dried blood on claws and mouth, probably just yours still."

"The dents are new. Thanks," Sylvia replied before checking the cameras surrounding Julian for any more threats that may have been lurking just outside of his line of sight, "where do you plan on holding up anyway?"

"Lost and found. It's got a door and vent in so it's surprisingly hard to get cornered, but if I seal the vent and door from the inside, it's basically an impenetrable safehouse," Julian replied as he blinded Monty again to give himself, Patty, and Rachel a window to sneak past, "we can't really be doing with managing door power between everything else, and the power doesn't even last five minutes anyway."

"Good call," Sylvia replied as she flicked through the cameras between Julian's location and the lobby. Lost and found was always a pretty safe place. Block off the door from the inside and seal up the vent, and you only had to worry about the Daycare attendant, who could be easily avoided by pretending to be unconscious.

It was a good thing that the robots didn't know the difference between death and unconscious: they always just thought they didn't kill you hard enough when you got back up from being 'dead', and whilst she'd been told to teach the robots, especially the daycare attendant, the difference 'in case of a legitimate emergency', Sylvia was not going to give up this lifeline. It was all the same if they thought an unconscious person was dead or alive anyway; she'd bribed the techs to override thier usual obfuscated protocols that definitely facilitated kidnapping and/or murder with a new one that phones 911 and calls for an ambulance on company dime in the case of a 'dead body'.

That new protocol had already come in much more handy, as even when she failed to protect someone, the authorities arrived soon after. She'd had to lie to management about the nature of the calls and sometimes smuggle officers in using cleaning trolleys, but it had been worth the risk. She remembered the incident a few days ago as if it were yesterday: she remembered the blood on Freddy's microphone stand, seeing the body, and wishing that the child didn't push her out of the way of Freddy's wrath. 'It should have been me not her' cycled through her head over and over and she felt herself shaking.

"Syl you've gone quiet. Everything OK over there?" Julian's voice broke the silence as it echoed through her headset.

"Yeah I'm fine," Sylvia lied. Julian probably knew; he'd grew up around a whole host of people whose 'I'm fine' meant 'I'm not actively bleeding out so there's nothing to worry about'. This was nothing new.

"If you say so~" Julian hummed. She was OK enough. He'd heard ragged breathing through this own headset, so figured she was still stressed out about the incident from a few days ago. That also explained to him why on this night she went to the daycare to find Rachel's grandpa instead of joining the other staff in trying to find Rachel: she didn't want to be around kids lest she accidentally inspire them to protect others as she did. "See anything on the cameras?"

"No." Sylvia saw no robots and no distortion on the path between Julian and co and the lobby. With what she remembered of what Jeremy had told her, she had her suspicions as to why Chica was AWOL this entire time. "Coast's clear. Chica is absent."

"Neat!" Julian smiled. Sylvia heard the smile in his voice.

Sylvia watched on the cameras as Julian and co made a mad dash for and through the lobby, and before she knew it, the trio had made it to lost and found.

After ensuring that the escape routes were planned out and the room was secure enough, Julian radioed in "thanks Syl."

"No problem," Sylvia smiled back. They were safe. But she kept watching the cameras for what was probably the majority of an hour or more.

She kept her eyes on the screens like a hawk, and soon it paid off.

A distortion blipped on the screen and the camera she was looking at cut out: it was the camera that looked over the double doors that connected the lobby to the day care.

She radioed in, "one of the cameras has gone out. You picking up any interference?"

"Yeah," Julian replied, "nearby electrical equipment is picking up a lot of interference. I'll check what it is."

Sylvia wanted to object, but knew better.

He radioed back in quickly enough. Worry was not warranted.

"I stayed near the vent, don't worry. It's an adult woman, early twenties, civilian clothing, and it looks like she's carrying an adult man, early twenties, repairman's clothes, he seems injured. Bridal style carry. Can't make out much else but I think I should know them. Trust my eyes to not see straight at a time like this."

"Where are they headded?" Sylvia asked in reply.

"Towards the daycare. You might be able to see them from where you are in a minute." Julian took a quick breath before adding a following statement. "Assuming you can see alright after what happened."

"Yeah I can," Sylvia nodded as she replied as she tried to find the duo on the cameras. She had no luck, as one camera would always be out, and the adjacent ones were full of static.

But that means an EMP circuit is being used.

The dead camera marked exactly where the woman was. The static showed what other camera she was closest to.

Sylvia gave up on the cameras and looked up to the walkway. By using the dead camera and amount of static on the surrounding cameras, she knew the exactly where to look. And it didn't take long for her to recognise both the woman and the man whom the woman was carrying in her arms.

"I see her," Sylvia said as she saw her sister carrying Luis towards the daycare theatre. Her vantage point was low, a given since she was in the gladiator pit known as the soft play area, but it was undoubtedly them.

Her sister was carrying Luis.

A chilling realisation hit.

He seemed critically injured, and Ness was in plainclothes. Something bad must have happened, and as she took a quick scroll of the maintenance logs, she already knew that it wasn't the outcome that she had hoped for: in fact it was far from it. She cursed herself for her failure to consider that there may be more steps, but she had to focus on the task at hand.

"And when I follow them, I'll be following them alone," Sylvia said as she waited for signs of anything.

The old guard gave her a look that told her that he was worried for her safety, but he wasn't going to try and stop her.

"Relax, I'll be safe. I promise." She said as she pulled herself to her feet and watched the cameras like a hawk as one by one they reactivated as her sister left thier detection radius. Sylvia waited to see if anyone left the theatre, waited to see if and when she needed to strike, and she planned a safe and efficient path for when she did.

Sylvia already knew about the remnant extraction machines around the building. She knew one was in a room that was hidden from the public, and hidden from many employees too, but she knew it well. So if her sister wasn't free and Luis was injured, there was only one place she'd go: the secret room behind the poster, behind the balcony of the daycare.

She knew that the human staff were safely holed up in groups across the megaplex and had disasembled the endos and staffbots that could have caused them harm. She knew that Ness and Luis would be alone in the  secret room - after all, Sylvia knew that secret room just behind the balcony of the daycare well. She didn't need to interfere yet. She didn't want to make a bad situation worse with her presence.

Yet before anyone left the theatre, somebody else walked in: an exec walked past staffbots and Monty as if they were nothing, and he was headed to the secret room.

There was no safe route for her to get there.

But she'd have to take the risk.

Knowing that taking a safe route could wait, she shoved her way past the robots and made her way to the theatre herself. Whilst she had no logical way of knowing where she'd need to go, she already knew deep down, from the start, that her destination was the secret room. She may make ample use of that secret room but she was by no means the only inhabitant, and some staff were in and out frequently enough as they had to find the cables stashed there. She knew, and had always known, that they'd likely go there, and she knew the reason too: Luis was alive at a price that Ness was willing to pay. She'd made the deduction ages ago, yet as she approached the door, the revelation felt new.

As she stepped through the hidden door and passed through the corridor, the fear was already palpable. And as she opened the door to the hidden room, she found a panic stricken Ness, shaking and clutching a vial full of sparkling black liquid, looking as if she was prepared to crush it at a seconds notice.

It didn't take a genius detective to figure out what had just transpired.

Sylvia placed a hand on her sister's shoulder, and in unspoken agreement, they silently snuck into the side room.

Silently, Sylvia watched as the exec aimed his gun at Luis's head. The man's finger was on the trigger, ready to pull; there was no trigger discipline here, and she knew the man aimed to kill.

She had to act fast and act now.

As she braced herself to tackle the exec, she took a deep breath and steadied her hands. Ready for the pounce.

"MOVE!"

The bellowing war cry left her lungs as Sylvia launched herself at the exec, pinning his arm downwards and pushing him to the ground.

A bullet ripped through the air, followed by a scream.

Keeping the exec pinned to the ground was an easy task, and getting the gun away from the madman was even easier. She swore she heard the snapping of bone at some point, but she couldn't care less. As she managed to finish restraining the exec by binding the bastard's hands with cable ties, she looked over at Luis.

Upon closer inspection, his state was quite clear.

He was alive, but not well.

Sylvia turned to Ness and nodded. Her sister needed to know that Luis was at least not dead. "He's alive, I'll take the exec, you take Luis."

After Ness nodded in acknowledgement, Sylvia dragged the exec out of the side room, and proceeded to drag him from the daycare back room to the atrium by the collar of his shirt.

Ness carried Luis in an infinitely more gentle manner.

Upon arriving at the atrium, Sylvia dragged the exec down the stairs and dumped him in sight but out of anyone's way before heading over to where Jeremy, Julian, Patty, and Rachel were sat. Her sister aproached the group too, albeit temporarily in order to leave Luis in capable hands.

As Julian got to work on patching people up, Sylvia decided to spark up a conversation with Jeremy.

"So, how were you managing to hold up in the cafeteria for so long?" She asked, glad that they did but curious as to how and why.

"Well," Jeremy smirked, "it all started when we all received that email you had a panic attack over. Management tried to sic Chica and a wave of staffbots on us, but we beat her back well before you got down to the locker rooms yourself -" he mimed punching something, "and we've had her shoved in a closet since then. She's been gorging herself on all the pizza favoured crap we shoved in there to keep her busy, but the door's still barred. And remember 11? You tackled that manager whilst the service team eliminated the staffbots. Bet the execs were banking on Chica as backup, but she was spared from our wrath cos she was still in the storage closet of shame. Cafeteria's been a safe haven ever since."

"Management sic'd Chica on you!?!" Sylvia was could barely keep herself from spiraling into a bizarre mix of panic and joy, "what?!"

Far more dire things than what she had imagined had happened. Fazbear Entertainment's plan was to eliminate the staff in two parts, but all the company wound up doing was handing over an opportunity to make a safe haven for those they attempted to eliminate. She smiled at how ironic it all was for Fazbear Entertainment.

"Yeah," Jeremy replied, "they said something about 'we were saving this for the 11 pm meeting but we'll use it now' or some crap, I don't remember. I just remember picking up a chair and going in swinging."

"Bloody hell."

"It was, if you were a staffbot. Most of the staffbots down there live in bin bags now. And seeing as we've all made it up here in one piece, you don't have to smuggle anyone out in a cleaning trolley again," Jeremy grinned, "well, I'll go see if Gaz is ok."

"And I'll go evacuate everyone else who hasn't made it here yet," Sylvia said as she stood up, "I hope they're ok."

"Of course they'll be ok. They've had your guidance and training!" Jeremy replied.

Sylvia shook her head.

"I'm still worried it wasn't enough."

She had a route planned. One that would land her at the daycare just as the time of the power surge rolled around so she could make her last stand against the daycare attendant and shoo him off from the guys stuck there. A fight she already knew she'd win, because she didn't have to stop him, only redirect him.

Everyone would leave this building alive. Everyone would live to see the dawn, and beyond.

And if someone didn't want that to happen?

They'd have to do it over her dead body.

°°•°°•°°•°°•°°•°°•🌹•°°•°°•°°•°°•°°•°°

[tinydefector]

Kinktober Day 5 - Group sex/ wet & messy

TFP Arcee x Insecticons

Heheheheh here's part two of my wife getting her a colony. Last thing for tonight because damn I'm tired but wanted to finish this and post it.

Day 4

Day 6

@tf-kinktober2024

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: group sex, breeding, blow job, fingerings, oral, Laying eggs,

______________

Arcee's ventilations quickened as the Insecticons digits delicately pressed into her valve, coaxing her open with a soft touch that sent shivers down her frame. The offer to become their Queen and form an alliance hung in the air, a proposition that stirred a mix of fear and desire within her spark. 

Their digits press deeper into her, moving and working her open as transfluid leaks from her valve and spike. "That's it little femme, just relax" they coo. Their own interface panel sliding away as their spike pressurises.

Arcee's optics widened in a mixture of fear and apprehension. The sheer size and intensity of the impending interface filled her with a sense of unease, the realisation of what was to come sparking a primal instinct to flee. The pressure against her spike only heightened her anxiety, "Please... I-I don't know if I can handle this," Arcee's voice quivered, a tremor of fear lacing her words. 

 "It will fit," they hum, pulling their digits from her valve and moving to press her into the bedding as they hover over her, spike resting against her valve before they press in. Arcee's vocalizer emitted a string of fragmented words, her processor struggling to keep up with the overwhelming sensations coursing through her frame as they pulling her flush against them, elicited a sharp pain that jolted through her circuits, causing her to gasp in discomfort 

Another set of servos trace her faceplate making her optics snap to the other Insecticon who clicks softly. "Wait, wait, I-I don't know if I'm ready for this," Arcee's voice quivered, 

As the Insecticons spike pressed deeper making her plating move in discomfort. 

The unfamiliar sensation of the spike against the silica of her gestation chamber, sending a jolt of fear through her systems. The barbs of their spike lock her in place as she struggles against them, unable to get away. A few others move in gently holding her up enough as they watch her plating move "Easy, easy. The sensation will subside" they purr while slowly grinding their spike deeper. 

“she will be a perfect little queen for us” another states, mandibles brushing her face as they pull her into a kiss. a series of strained sounds leave her as she melts into the touch. 

Even more transfluid gushes from her, as the others nuzzle closely. Digits working her spike as she arches into each touch coolant running down her faceplate, whether from the pheromones, overstimulation or situation. She rocks her hips back against them making their spike press deeper into the chamber. 

 They slowly begin pumping a fluid into her chamber, it has Arcee keening and whining as it makes her systems meltdown, eager for more but at the same time screaming out for it to stop. "Tell us what you need little femme" another con click softly to her. 

 a series of desperate sounds leave her as she grabs hold of the one currently filling her to the brim. "I-I need... more," Arcee's voice trembled, the words barely audible amidst the whimpers and whines that escaped her. 

"More of what sweet one?" They rumble slowly pulling away as transfluid gushes from her,  she tries to grab them and pull them back but its another Insecticon which takes their place, leaning down to run their glossa against her spike and gushing valve, eagerly lapping up as much as they can. 

Her vocalizer, usually reserved and controlled, now spilled forth with a torrent of words, a mixture of desire and desperation. "More... more please, feel empty," Arcee's voice wavered, the plea laced with a hunger she had never known before. their insistent hums against her throat cables, stirred something primal within her, urging her to give in to the overwhelming pheromones. 

The others slowly move in, clicking and calling “easy little femme, relax we'll give you what you need” another coos. Servos traces up her frame as they kiss her, touch her and watch as she Withers as the other slowly thrust into her, another's mouth moved to her spike, sucking it slowly, Arcee erupted with a cascade of pleas and gasps. "Yes, yes, don't stop... please, fill me," she whimpered, her frame quivering against the small swarm gathered around her. 

She doesn't know how long she had been there or how many times they had taken her but when one of their spikes began to swell and lock in place, a sharp cry of pain escaped her vocalizer. frame tensing in confusion and uncertainty. "What's happening?" she exclaimed, hot vented air gushes from her as she struggles slightly against their hold. 

 Insecticon spoke softly. "Giving you your brood my queen" sent a shiver down Arcee’s spinal strut as her plating aches to accommodate. she managed to gasp out, As the first egg fill her gestation chamber. "It's too much... please," she cries out, her frame trembling with the strain of the sensation. 

"Shhh it won't hurt for long, we prepared you for this" they hum, as more eggs pump into her. Despite their attempts to soothe her, the relentless pumping of more eggs into her gestation chamber continued, each one adding to her distress and discomfort. 

As more eggs began to weigh her on her tank heavily Arcee's protests grew louder, her vocalizer filling the chamber with a cacophony of pleas and cries. "I can't... I can't take this," she cries out, her voice tinged with a sense of defeat and resignation. 

"Yes you can sweet Queen, we will look after you, almost finished " many of them coo at her whisperering praise as the litter kisses and licks against her. As the last egg is resting in her chamber the Insecticon pulls away, leaving others rush to her cooing and click as they lower her into the nest.

Body's pressed against her as they begin tending to her. Cleaning between her legs and bringing energon to her. "Rest, we will talk about your team once you have recharged" they coo softly. 

"Wait... my team," Arcee's voice quivered with apprehension, her optics wide with fear as they mentioned discussing her team once she had recharged. The thought of her team's safety in the hands of the Insecticons sent a wave of panic through her circuits, her worries bubbling to the surface in a torrent of words. "I need to know they're safe," she pleaded, her voice filled with a desperate urgency 

"They aren't here little queen, we will talk once you rest, and make sure you have fueled. If you wish to leave the nest we will follow" they state while others cuddle around her.

Arcee's spark fluttered with a mix of apprehension and unease as the Insecticons reassured her that her team was not present, urging her to rest and refuel before they would discuss further. 

But the gentle buzzing and warm embrace of the Insecticons as they cuddled around her offered a strange sense of comfort amidst the chaos of everything. She doesn't remember the last time she had energon this sweet nor being able to recharge so swiftly. 

____________

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[mychlapci]

back again with my sunstreaker merformers propaganda~

so sunny and blue are mates. i personally headcanon that similar to most actual fish species, once the spark eggs end up hatching, the little babies end up swimming out into the rust sea to grow up. (let's be real here most of em end up dying but maybe sunstreaker meets a few of his offspring later off down the line)

so sunstreaker really wants to dick down bluestreak again, because what else are mate supposed to do with each other? and bluestreak is like "oh babe no, i have a job, i cannot get pregnant with three hundred eggs again"

and sunstreaker basically fucking calls off their relationship. and by that i mean he fucks off to the depths of the rust sea with a pout on his face plates and a sinking feeling in his spark. he's torn because he really like bluestreak, not just the interfacing is really great, but also just because the land dweller is a genuinely nice bot who treats him as more than just a nice piece of valve

bluestreak is very busy with his job but he starts to get really worried when sunstreak doesn't show up to their usual meeting spot. he ends up talking to a group of local merformers who live at the university he's studying/working at (i'm thinking rodimus, ratchet, and drift) who basically tell him "you done fucked up stupid" and poor blue is sparkbroken because he didn't mean to hurt his beloved sunny but he really cannot afford to be knocked up 24/7 (y'know with that pesky land dweller economy the way it is lmao)

sunstreaker, on his end, has eventually decided that he's gonna go talk to blue, sort some shit out, and try to fix shit, because while he's a petty bitch who can hold a grudge, more than a few other merformers have caught wind that he's fair game now that the stupid land dweller is out of the picture and sunny's getting real sick and tired of beating people up just to get some alone time

maybe sideswipe knocked some sense into him. (perhaps sides and his mate have decided not to have eggs or smth and they tell sunny about the joys of causal interfacing and how nice it is to be cuddled after getting your valve absolutely wrecked)

anyways sunstreaker manages to swim through the sewer system into the university and bluestreak is minding his own business when he gets a frantic call to come down to one of the tanks with a more aggressive merformer because his boyfriend just randomly showed up and now they're beefing (maybe the bigger merformer is trying to dominate sunstreaker and now sunny's trying to rip his fucking throat cables out)

bluestreak manages to get the whole situation sorted out and sunny is quickly moved to an empty tank so they can talk. cue cute and fluffy shit before sunstreaker grabs blue by the collar faring and hauls him into the water, quickly pinning him down and getting his beloved's spike deep inside his valve opening

anyways happy ending, sunstreaker quickly comes to realise that the idea of bluestreak being stuffed full of eggs is great, having his mate's pussy 24/7 without eggs in the way is just as, if not, better.

hell maybe he moves to the university tank full time and agrees to help catalogue/give info to the university regarding the life cycle and mating habits of rust sea merformers.

bonus points if sunny gets his servos on those fake eggs that bluestreak used on him and then stuffs bluestreak full, slapping a panel lock on him to keep his armour flared and have him waddle around without the downsides of pregnancy

i just really like the idea of sunstreaker and bluestreak being sweet and cute with each other while simultaneously having the nastiest sex possible in the middle of bluestreak's shifts.

"it's for science" he says, getting his valve pounded by merformer spike the size of his lower arm

-burnt ice anon

sorry i dont have much to add because you've done a fantastic job but can i just say. hrghhhh Sunstreaker being a manance with a big spike that leaves Bluestreak limping for days owns my horny little heart. can't get the image out of my head

[titi86]

Stand Name: Lover Boy

Stand Type: Long-range Stand

Stats:

Speed: B

Range: A

Durability: B

Precision: A

Development Potential: B

Appearance:

Lover Boy takes the form of a humanoid figure draped in a sleek, jet-black hooded cloak that reaches down to its ankles. The cloak's fabric shimmers with faint, luminescent lines reminiscent of circuitry. Atop its head, Lover Boy wears a futuristic helmet that completely obscures its face. The helmet has a seamless, reflective surface and features angular designs, giving it a cyberpunk aesthetic.

Lover Boy's arms extend from the cloak, clad in fingerless gloves that match the cloak's dark color. The gloves possess intricate patterns resembling circuit boards, adding to the stand's technological theme. Below the waist, Lover Boy dons form-fitting cargo pants, accentuated with angular armor plating, and motocross boots.

Stand Abilities:

1 Universal hack: Lover Boy possesses the ability to hack any type of object, regardless of its nature or complexity, simply by touching it or traveling through the virtual realm. When Lover Boy hacks a non-technological object, it imbues it with the characteristics of a drone. This allows the stand to control the movements, actions, and properties of the hacked object. Lover Boy can also extract information from the hacked object, such as its materials, physical state, or even memories. The time required to complete a hack depends on the complexity of the command or the object being hacked. For example, hacking a simple lock would take less time than hacking a more intricate system. To achieve complete control over a person, the user must discover their weakness and maintain physical contact with them for a couple of seconds; a simple touch would not be enough. To break free from the hack, the victim must either defeat the stand/user or find another means of escape.

2. Holographic Creation: Lover Boy has the ability to create holographic screens and keyboards that float in the air. These holographic projections can be used to view information, blend in with the surroundings, and create a shield-like defense. The stand can generate a holographic shield to protect itself or others from physical and stand-based attacks. The shield can be shaped and resized to adapt to various situations, providing a versatile defensive capability.

3. Pure information: Lover Boy is composed of pure information, allowing it to glitch and teleport short distances. It can manipulate its digital essence to traverse through the digital realm, enabling it to interact with objects and travel quickly over long distances. Lover Boy can seamlessly merge with screens, cables, antennas, or any other electronic interface to move between them. This ability grants the stand invisibility to electronic devices such as cameras or radars, making it difficult to track or detect. Additionally, Lover Boy can extend its glitching ability to other objects it touches, temporarily rendering them invisible to electronic devices as well.

[yourxguardian]

🐝  *  ―  𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺./ @ofauroradreams​ ❛  is there anything i can do for you?  ❜

Brilliant blue optics were faded nearly black and the moonlight did nothing to bring life to them. The air dragged through his vents and his chest plates were heavy. He cleared his vision a long time ago of the warnings that were screaming at him. He needed a medic.

  ❝ . . . ❞

His chest plating fell and his vents came more shallow as he tried to repair his vocal processing unit.         That Decepticon really got the jump on him. Bee knew Optimus would have something to say to him if he was here.         His optics shuttered and he heard Liana’s voice again.

He stayed silent for a moment,  ❝ here, ❞ he forced his servo to this side of his chassis but he could only drag it half way before he stopped,  ❝ I need you to . . . reconnect . . . ❞ he sighed and he tried to relax,  ❝ reconnect . . . the energon . . . cable . . . here, ❞ Bee didn’t have the time to think about the fact that he was losing consciousness and was trying to instruct a human how to do surgery.

                                                                                                                    BASIC surgery.

He tried to relax.

Bee didn’t know if he was moving closer, he didn’t even know if she could hear him. So many systems were going offline. He just wondered why his pain receptors remained online. If she could reconnect the cables he might be able to avoid stasis lock. He knew he was asking a lot but they didn’t have a choice. 

He tried to relax.

The Decepticon was dead. Bee didn’t know where the scrap was but he knew he killed it and Liana was safe. This was the last time he was taking her on a mission with him. Once he was fully functional he planned to tell Optimus that. For now though, she was safe.

He relaxed as his vison went dark.

[knockouts-highbeams]

*Ghost did not know how long they sat there, their systems seeming to offline, shock consuming them. It wasn’t until their frame ex-vented the built up heat that they came back online. Every cable and piston within them screamed to portal. They could feel Knockout’s lingering embarrassment, their own adding to the feeling, they become overwhelmed and stood quickly.

Crossing the medbay, they raised a servo ready to portal away from the awkwardness except… they found they could not bring themselves to do it.

Lowering their arm, their optics landed on the pillow that lay discarded by the medical berth. Trembling, they bent to pick it up and hugged it tightly to their chassis. This was not the time to run and hide. They knew deep down their could not give Knockout what he wanted, needed, at this moment but they could still try and ease his discomfort.

In-venting heavily, their processor made up, they made their way from the medbay back to Knockout’s suit unsure what they would find within. Standing before the door, they gathered their courage and entered quickly before they could change their mind.*

*Knockout was still in the wash racks when Ghost entered. They could hear the solvent running, but nothing else. The door was locked.

Knockout didn't hear Ghost enter his hab suit. He just stood underneath the stream staring off into space. His plating was starting to shiver as his systems began to get too cold, but he didn't want to leave. He couldn't bring himself to face Ghost.

He saw their expression as he left the medbay. The dawning realization of why Knockout was so flustered.

Why was he so embarrassed? Knockout had seduced and flirted and flaunted himself around to other bots before, to complete strangers no less, why was he so embarrassed now?

He put his face plate in his servos, shaking his helm, as if he could shake the embarrassment from his processor.*