#i gave it a visible endoskeleton :]

[neptunym]

ULTRATOBER // Part 4 - Day 13: Redesign

the mindflayers are perfect, but every robot is cooler with transparent casing

[cicos-macos]

A little fanfiction on what could happen in the future DLC's of Security Breach.

Warning: SUPER long post. I will be talking about the story and every character in the game. Also, obviously.......... spoiler warning.

Let's start off with the obvious: Cassie is stuck at the bottom of the Pizzaplex.

The DLC option doesn't immediately jump to the game itself, but rather the DLC menu - and there is quite a lot of space beneath "Save Gregory".

"Escape with Cassie" is the next possibility, where she and Roxy try to climb up through the ruined Pizzaplex with the Mimic on their tail. The V.A.N.N.I mask isn't helpful anymore, because M.X.E.S is deactivated. They join forces with the other animatronics due to the Mimic now solely focused on hunting them down, giving them free will of their own and their original personality back. As they climb up and get near the Roxy Raceway, they meet up with Gregory, Vanessa and Freddy (now fixed up by Vanessa) who explain the situation. They all manage to leave the Pizzaplex, but not before the final showdown with the Mimic.

As for the animatronics:

ROXY: Obviously the new protector. Nothing much to say. Her personality gets fleshed out and she reveals how she felt like she didn't have control over herself before the Pizzaplex turned to ruin. Roxy could be kind of like a death prevention - she swoops in and pushes the Mimic away from Cassie, preventing the kill.

CHICA: If you gave her the voicebox: Chica approaches Cassie in a friendly manner, thanking her for returning it to her. From that point on, it becomes possible for Chica to help Cassie out alongside Roxy - Chica could temporarily stun the Mimic and the endoskeletons for a few seconds, allowing Cassie to escape. Otherwise, I don't see her helping out.

MONTY: In OG Security Breach, I can only assume that the second hit in the death cutscene was the cause for his animalistic behavior. Maybe it damaged his wiring to a barely salvageable level? In any case, he's not dead, but barely holding on. Being electrocuted isn't a small thing, so he turns into those kinds of NPCs. The ones that Just Exist. If you have both Roxy and Chica at your side, you can choose who picks him up to carry him out of the Pizzaplex, but he insists on helping out. He can crawl his way through small spaces, vents and passages and open up a path with his claws for the group without any endos attacking him. Otherwise, Cassie will have to risk herself to do that and it would be very difficult.

BONNIE: After disabling all of the wet floor bots, his consciousness is transfered from their remnants into his body, getting him back on his feet. He doesn't join right away, but instead, near the second half of the DLC. His ability could be super-hearing and nimbleness, pitching in when the Mimic is getting close, while jumping over the rubble and evading its attacks. The areas are barely visible without the V.A.N.N.I mask.

ECLIPSE: After Sun and Moon join forces and bodies and minds and whatnot, they join in as not only moral support, but a link for all the animatronics. Let's say Roxy is very torn on seeing Freddy after all this, but Eclipse helps her understand. Let's say Chica and Roxy need to do a task together - Eclipse helps them coordinate it. They wouldn't really be gameplay related but get a LOT of dialogue, fleshed out personality etc.

FREDDY / GREGORY / VANESSA: They're still at the Pizzaplex. The Mimic cut Gregory off while he was talking to Cassie before the elevator dropped down. Vanessa can reactivate M.X.E.S for a short period of time, giving her the ability to control endoskeletons and potentially damage the Mimic. Gregory can stealth his way around and open doors / press buttons / disable things. Freddy was fixed by Vanessa, and has his old features back - hiding in the stomach hatch and stuff, but it's only available to Gregory.

You could have various different endings depending on what animatronics you bring along. You could also get revenge on Gregory, even if, during the story, it is revealed that the Mimic cut him off. In any case, those that do escape the Pizzaplex are fixed up at Vanessa's place, with the M.X.E.S antivirus installed in their servers. Happy ending is all that I care about. They all live happily ever after. The End.

With this being said, honestly, a Security Breach RPG would be fucking fantastic lmao.

[silvercatwithnoname]

FNaF AU

I am currently somehow back in my FNaF phase, so I decided to try to write an AU for it. I guess this is more of an experiment, to see if I can write something like that. This does partially follow the lore of the games, but not completely, I guess it wouldn't be an AU if it did.

Chapter 1 Beginning

The dim light of the workshop revealed several dismantled or unfinished animatronics, some of them nothing more than endoskeleton prototypes. “Why the hell aren’t you working?” Michael growled and looked into the empty plastic eyes of his newest creation, a brown bunny with a black hat and a light blue bowtie. Michael stood up and looked at the lifeless robot, he sighed, maybe it was for the best that the bunny animatronic didn’t work. After all, the golden bunny has always been his father’s favorite animatronic. It’s been a few months now that he planned to open his own pizzeria, it was after he got out from his fathers ‘circus’… after the scooper. He gritted his teeth at the thought of that thing. “You won’t die.” The words of his sister haunted him, but she was right, he was alive, or at least not dead, his body rotted, and parts of him are still mechanical, parts that the weird clown lost… His right Hand, the bone was completely replaced with a wire-claw, so was his foot. Michaels neck and his teeth were also not really human anymore. Now he had those pointy robot teeth, he had to be careful when speaking, because if he opens his mouth too wide they were clearly visible. He was sure that he has some more robot parts, but he really doesn’t have much feeling in his body anymore, well he still could feel pain to some extent, but definitely less then when he was ‘normal’. Interestingly the metal parts he was aware of didn’t hurt, so there was no reason why parts that are unknown to him should hurt. He saw his reflection on a shiny piece of metal, his skin purple underneath his make-up, his one empty eye, the other one an unnatural purple as well. He took the gloves from his hand and ran his ‘fingers’ over his neck, he grimaced when he looked at the point where his skin was supposed to be, now there was just metal. “I’m lucky that I don’t have to eat anymore, this would be difficult.” He murmured, Michael still hasn’t gotten used to his new ‘life’. He took a last glance at the bunny and then gave up for the day “I guess I’ll use you for spare parts or something…” He put his glove back on, wrapped his scarf around his neck and opened the door. “I wonder if Leon sees me through the cameras right now.” Leon was his nightguard, though his stage animatronics had a nightmode and are, not possessed, as far as he knew, he still wanted to have someone look over the place at night. Of course, Michael learned from his experiences as nightguard and has doors that won’t run out of power, so Leon was safe, even if his robots would get out of control. He waved at the camera walked past the corridors and stage he had three animatronics at this point, a kangaroo named Jumper, a fennec fox called spotty and a flamingo with the name Pinky, he was planning more animatronics, another one he was working on was a racoon, but building him would take some more time. The animatronics were still on their stage, no one wandered around or tried to attack him “Feels weird to wander around without the risk of getting killed by haunted robots.” Michael said to Jumper, the kangaroo didn’t react, neither did one of the others, they were just machines, nothing more. Michael remembers Freddy, Chica, Bonnie and Foxy, if one of them were here, he definitely would run out the pizzeria, instead of normally walking. “I wonder what happened to them…” he thought and left the pizzeria.

Back at home, Michael turned on the tv, it’s not like he had to sleep much, so he spends most of his nights working in his workshop in the pizzeria or watching tv. After a while he went to the bathroom and washed off the make-up which made him look, at least a bit, like a normal person. He brushed the strands of his brown hair, that covered his one missing eye, away and once again saw the mess those robots, and his sister, made of him. “They could put me in a horror attraction, and I would fit right in.” he smiled dryly and kept washing of the make-up. Tomorrow is another day…

Thank you for reading chapter one

Sorry if my writing style is bad or something, I usually don't write stories in English. If you find spelling or grammar mistakes, please tell me and I'll fix them. I don't know if or how long I will continue this, at this point I have written three chapters. I have fun writing this, maybe you have fun reading this too.

[angelofrainfrogs]

We Found Him, Superstar: Ch. 18

Fandom: Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Since starting his new afterlife at the Pizzaplex, Gregory has managed to befriend the Glamrock animatronics and made a surprising discovery—Bonnie’s been hidden in the basement warehouse this entire time, badly decommissioned but still powered on. Along with Bonnie are the endoskeletons that, no longer under the virus’s control, seem much more sentient than normal animatronics… Gregory and his friends are determined to get Bonnie back into commission and figure out the mysteries of what exactly these endoskeletons are—and how to help them, too.

Chapter Summary: Now that Gregory’s starting to get a handle on his powers, the guards’ research has shifted towards Fazbear Entertainment’s sordid past. They hope to find some clues as to who and why would do such a thing to all those kids... Though the answers might be much closer than they anticipated.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38728158/chapters/110516251

Freddy marched himself and Gregory over to the West Arcade, where Music Man was asleep as usual. They opted to let him rest this time and were soon knocking on the security office door. 

“Hello, Thomas and Leon? We received your note!” Freddy called, hearing a loud yelp followed by some muttered cursing which caused Gregory to giggle. Thankfully, the words were indistinguishable this time. After a few seconds Thomas came to the door, peering out the little window with narrowed eyes. 

“H-Hey!” he said, trying to sound cheerful even though something was clearly distressing him. “You, uh… y-you don’t happen to have the d-daycare attendants with you, d-do you?”

“Nope!” Gregory confirmed, leaning forward in Freddy’s hold to plant his hands on the window. On the other side of the glass, a small set of frosty handprints appeared. “Now let us in!” 

Though Thomas might still be terrified of the daycare attendants, he was totally cool with the little ghost boy practically glued to Freddy’s side. That didn’t stop him from gasping at the sudden appearance of the handprints, though.

“They are not with us,” Freddy reassured, smiling down at the guard through the window. “May we come in?” 

“…Sure,” Thomas replied with a nod, unlocking the heavy-duty door that was meant specifically to keep animatronics out. He tried not to think about why those sort of doors had been installed in the first place as he stepped aside and gestured for Freddy to enter. “Sorry about that; we, uh… we saw Sun walking out of the daycare and when the lights started going out so Moon could follow, we figured they were with you two…”

“Yeah... and Thomas had me put the note on the door,” Leon added, swiveling in his chair to glare back at his coworker. 

 “And I can’t thank you enough for that, oh wonderful pal of mine!” Thomas said, his expression flipping into a grin as he walked over to Leon and gripped his shoulder appreciatively. 

“Tell them they were meeting the kids!” Gregory insisted as he gently shook Freddy's arm to get him to speak up.

“I am sorry if the sight of them distressed you,” Freddy apologized, though he let out a small chuckle at the guards’ interaction. “We were taking Sun and Moon to visit the children in the basement.”

“Figured as much; no worries,” Leon assured, crossing his ankles and leaning back comfortably in his chair. “So, were you able to read through most of the papers we gave you the other night?”

“We were!” Freddy replied, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Gregory and I believe we understand his visibility to certain entities, or lack thereof—the three ‘layers’ of existence that Gregory can switch between.” 

“Oh yeah, Leon was telling me about that,” Thomas said with a nod, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the desk next to Leon’s chair. “I’m not sure I get it a hundred percent, but the concept is clear enough…” 

“We deduced that the reason animatronics can see Gregory is because our eyes are cameras,” Freddy explained, blinking as if to emphasize this fact. “If he can figure out how to switch to the first layer, then he should become visible to you both! He has done it once before, though it was accidental.”

Leon nodded his head slowly, offering Freddy a small smile. “You know, I think I heard about a boy running around the backrooms, but no one could find him. I'm guessing he's the culprit?” He jerked a thumb towards Freddy’s seemingly empty arms. 

“And speaking of culprits, you won't believe the amount of shit we—sorry—stuff, we dug through while searching the history of Fazbear Entertainment,” Thomas went on, grimacing at Freddy’s glare. “It wasn't too much information since they know how to cover their tracks, but there’s a pretty good web forum with a lot of theories and the few facts we can confirm.” 

Leon slowly rolled his chair over to click around his monitor a few times. It soon opened up to a webpage with dozens upon dozens of comments underneath a photo of the original Fazbear's Pizzeria. 

Freddy stepped up to the computer monitor, holding Gregory securely as he bent to look closer at the screen. He tried to make sense of what he was reading, but without all the facts the pieces of information didn't quite connect. Still, one thing was abundantly clear— 

“So many children have gone missing over the years...,” Freddy murmured softly. There was a minor disagreement in the comments about just how many kids had actually disappeared and whether these children were also confirmed dead, but the results seemed inconclusive. However, a few dates kept popping up, some of which seemed very important: 

1983... 

1987... 

2012…

“Yeah, this place... it has some bad history,” Thomas commented, watching the animatronic's eyes scan the screen. He frowned, placing his hands on the desk and tapping his fingers as he thought aloud. “But one of the weirdest things is whenever a bunch of kids went missing, it seemed... consistent. Like, it was always the same pattern—one kid here or there mysteriously disappeared until it was starting to get noticeable, then things would stop for a bit, and then crazy stuff would happen at whatever restaurant was involved at the time... And no one ever found the bodies.” 

“There's a lot of theories pointing to one of the original creators of Fazbear Entertainment—William Afton,” Leon said, sighing as he slowly scrolled through the comments. “Police even arrested him at one point, but there wasn’t enough proof to prosecute him. Then he vanished, leaving the whole thing to his business partner, Henry… and then he went missing too and the name was taken over by some big corporate.” 

Gregory gasped, patting Freddy’s shoulder frantically. “So it is him! William’s the guy in the bunny suit!” 

“Yes...,” Freddy agreed with a grimace, standing up straight. “It seems as though he was telling the truth about his identity.” 

“...Who was telling what?” Thomas asked, tilting his head curiously. Then he gasped, patting his pockets until he found his phone. “Oh, Gregory, I'm sorry—I didn't set up the spirit box app! Give me a sec and you can talk to us, too!” 

“There is... something else we need to tell you,” Freddy said slowly as Thomas plugged in his phone and got things ready. Freddy looked at Leon, being the more focused of the two guards. “But first, I must ask: what do you know about the incident that occurred in the Pizzaplex just before you were hired? Besides what we have told you about the fates of the missing children, of course.”

Leon flashed Thomas with a worried look. What else did they have to say? “Well, I didn't know much at all. Like I told you, Fazbear Entertainment keeps things super hush-hush. I barely started figuring out about any missing children this week… And the previous night guard disappeared, so it’s not like we could’ve asked them, anyway; I don’t even know their name.” 

“Wait—can I tell them everything now?!” Gregory asked, figuring now would be the best time to say anything still relatively fresh in his memory. 

Freddy nodded. “I think they need to know; I will explain first and you can add anything I missed, alright?” 

“Freddy... y-you're really freaking us out now,” Thomas said, finally getting situated back his spot next to Leon, his phone at the ready for whenever Freddy gave the que. He stared up at the animatronic nervously, knowing that whatever they were about to hear wasn't going to be good. 

“Well, when the previous night guard was here—Vanessa, was her name—the Pizzaplex underwent a massive virus attack,” Freddy began, gazing down at the guards. “It infected most of the animatronics and caused them to become violent during nightshift hours, and anyone in their way would suffer the consequences.” 

He paused, remembering all that Gregory had been through, and held him even closer. 

“Thankfully, I was the only one unaffected, and Gregory managed to find me despite everything. That night, we worked together to uncover what happened and hopefully put an end to things. Admittedly, we still do not entirely know how the virus was created, but we do know why—there is an... entity underneath the Pizzaplex and he was trying to rise to power, using the animatronics to do his bidding with the help of his assistant—who we later learned was in fact Vanessa. I cannot call the entity 'human' because I fear he has not been that way for a long time, but... the cause of all this distress was William Afton himself.”

Leon simply sat and listened from start to finish, although his terrified expression told Gregory and Freddy quite enough. As the robot finished his explanation, Leon rubbed at his face with a heavy sigh. “You… you can't say that so calmly, Freddy. Are you seriously trying to tell us that William Afton is literally underneath the first floor of the Pizzaplex? And it's accessible?!” 

“He was so ugly too!” Gregory added, shaking his head as he nuzzled himself closer towards the protective bear. The mere thought of the man tangentially responsible for his demise brought back that deep-rooted fear inside his soul.

Freddy blinked. “I am sorry; it is in my programming to speak calmly in stressful situations so as not to enhance the negative emotions of those around me.” 

“Holy shit, Freddy, what the hell—ugh, sorry,” Thomas groaned, his knuckles white as he gripped the desk behind him, his phone long-since absently put to the side. “B-But... is Leon right—is William here?!” 

“Technically yes,” Freddy responded, still in his measured tone. Now that he'd had a few weeks to process everything, it was in his nature to explain the facts as they were. Besides, he worried if he started getting too emotional himself, it might bring back what he'd felt that night when they were underground... and he never wanted to experience fear or anger like that again. 

“Do you recall the old elevator shaft in Roxy Raceway that has been permanently sealed off from guests and employees? It leads down into the depths of the facility—the Pizzaplex was actually built on top of a restaurant called Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place that burned down, and that is where William was hiding. As I said, I am not sure what exactly he was—it appeared that his human body was somehow melded to an endoskeleton, but... I do not think he will be coming back anytime soon.” 

Freddy shifted his gaze to Gregory, the memory of the blob clear as day in both their minds. Leon stayed silent as he listened carefully, narrowing his eyes. 

“’Melded to an endoskeleton...?’” he mumbled quietly, swiveling back to his computer to begin typing furiously. “Do you remember anything else about him? Anything at all?” 

“He was taking parts from Bonnie! And Vanessa was controlled by him, and she killed everyone!” Gregory explained, jumping between topics and unsure which to explain first. “And there were voices from the blob-thingy, and… and…” 

Gregory took a moment to catch his breath, reminding himself that the security guards couldn't hear him just yet.

“Yes, William was... taking parts from Bonnie,” Freddy explained, hearing Gregory's thoughts and trying to organize them as best he could. “The base animatronic of his body was a Bonnie-themed model, hence why ours was targeted. This is also why his follower, Vanessa—although I believe she went by 'Vanny' at the time—wore a rabbit-themed guise. She, ah...” He paused, his gaze shifting between the guards. “She is the one that murdered all of the children, including Gregory. William gave her the order to do so, as he was incapacitated and not able to physically do it himself.” 

“Holy shit...,” Thomas muttered again, not even registering his cursing at this point. “God, no wonder you guys didn't trust us at all, if the night guard was the one who—” He cut himself off with a shiver. 

“She was being manipulated,” Freddy felt the need to clarify. “Somehow, William was controlling her—it was as if she was infected with the virus, too.” Freddy shook his head, a haunted look overtaking his bright eyes. “And… William almost took control of me towards the end, but Gregory was able to stop him. He can likely tell you more.” 

Thomas took the hint and held up his phone towards Freddy's arms, honestly grateful he didn't need to speak again right at that moment. He pressed a button and the familiar static filled the room, ready for Gregory to communicate. 

Leon wasn't speaking at this point. Instead, he seemed to be searching for more answers, though he kept one ear on the conversation as he clicked rapidly through a backlog of photos.

Gregory perked up as he heard the white noise, leaning into the microphone. “She was going to use our souls to bring him back! But this giant blob took him, and I think they were other spirits!” 

“SHE.... USE... OUR... SOULS... BRING... HIM... BACK...” the little voice cut through the static. “BUT... BLOB... TOOK... HIM... THINK... THEY... WERE... SPIRITS” 

Thomas simply blinked at his phone, then shook his head lightly. “Freddy, you're definitely gonna have to translate that one...” 

“Vanessa said that William needed human souls to be 'revived,' and apparently children's souls are the most potent—hence their targeted victims,” Freddy explained. “However, as we were escaping the underground restaurant, we came across a mass of wires that seemed to be alive somehow... Thinking back on it with all we know now, Gregory and I believe it was possessed by human souls. It seemed their anger was directed solely towards William and they spoke in a whisper similar to the children in the endoskeletons, so we think they may be previous victims.” He shook his head lightly. “I do not know how they would have gotten down there though, nor why they would be in such a state... or even who they would be, since all the children that went missing in the Pizzaplex itself have been accounted for.”

Leon suddenly pulled back from the computer, turning the screen towards Gregory and Freddy. The image on the screen was of a golden-suited Bonnie and Freddy on stage, grainy but unmistakable. They were poised mid-performance, and a small crowd of kids in birthday hats were gathered around staring up at them in wonder. 

“…Do you two know who these characters are?” Leon asked slowly. 

“That's him!” Gregory immediately pointed out, shaking Freddy’s arm. “That's William!” 

“THAT'S... HIM... WILLIAM...” 

“Those are the original models of the Freddy and Bonnie suits, developed by William Afton,” Freddy clarified, the image on screen instantly pulling up a file from the depths of his databank. “They were referred to as 'springlock suits' because of their patented mechanism allowing them to be used as either a shell for an animatronic endoskeleton, or worn by a human as a costume. However, they were banned from employee use not long after their initial creation because of their potential hazard of the springlocks closing... while a human... was still inside...” 

Freddy trailed off as he finished his explanation, eyes growing wide as something started to click. 

Leon glanced over at Thomas, gently nodding his head. “So William didn’t just disappear… This whole time he’s been trapped in the suit. Who knows what happened, but… If kids’ souls can be bonded to endoskeletons, who’s to say that psycho’s whole damn body couldn’t be stuck in that death-trap, too?” He swallowed thickly, his face growing pale. “God… At least we can confirm he was responsible behind all those kids going missing, lack of ‘proof’ be damned.” 

Thomas’s breath notably hitched, his face nearly as pale as the ghost in Freddy’s arms. “W-What’s wrong with him?! Why… why the fuck would he…?”

“It seemed like this all started going downhill after his youngest son died,” Leon went on with a grimace. He certainly didn’t have any concrete answers, but thanks to the internet they had a place to start. “I was able to find his obituary online—Evan Afton was his name. Someone on the forum claims to be the kid of one of the witnesses for his untimely death and gave some more details: in 1983, Evan was put into the jaws of the Freddy springlock suit and it of course... you know.” 

He paused to let that information sink in, letting out a long breath. 

“Apparently his brother Michael did it as a joke. It was at his birthday party too, the poor kid… The person on the forum said their father was friends with Michael and attended the party, but never saw him again after that day—for obvious reasons, I’m guessing.” Leon minimized the picture, sighing softly. “I just wonder... was William forced into the suit, or did he put it on? Especially if he knew the kind of damage it could do…””

“Oh god...,” Thomas whispered, turning off the app as his hands started shaking too much to hold his phone properly. Instead he gripped the back of Leon's chair with one hand, pressing the other over his mouth as if he was about to be sick. “That's horrendous... I can't imagine climbing into one of those things, let alone getting...urgh—” He turned away, taking a few calming breaths before muttering softly. “And that poor kid—getting... g-getting killed by his own family... Even if it was meant as a joke, how the hell would his brother think putting his head in that thing was a good idea?!” 

“Michael was relatively young at the time as well; he likely did not fully understand the potential consequences of his actions,” Freddy defended, earning a look of surprise from the guards as a strange feeling he couldn’t quite identify washed over him. He'd never met the boy, of course—records from his databank showed that he'd gone missing just like his father, though at a later date—but for some unknown reason Freddy felt as though, as usual, people had been far too quick to judge Michael’s actions. 

However, he had no idea where this wayward thought came from, and this wasn't the topic to focus on right now. Instead, he met Leon's gaze. “Perhaps whatever William was doing, at least initially, was related to his son's death. Maybe he was trying to replace him, or...” Freddy glanced down at the ghost in his arms. “...Or bring him back?”

“Is that why I wasn't put in an endoskeleton, too?” Gregory asked curiously, scratching the top of his head. He wasn't sure how the puzzle was being added up; it didn't really process in his mind like it did for the others, but all he knew was this situation was a bad one. 

Leon shuddered. “I'm not sure, but if he's down there we have to make sure he stays there. We can't let him potentially create some other sort of virus again. Clearly he’s smart since he did this whole thing right under everyone’s nose—he could've massacred so many people on dayshift with all the animatronics under his control…”

“Good point,” Thomas said with a frown. “I mean, despite everything he's done he was a brilliant inventor to make all these animatronics, and if he was somehow able to survive all this time... kind of... he'd probably be able to pick up on the newer technology.” He gestured to Freddy with an attempt at a smile, which quickly fell back into a grimace. “But yeah, we can't risk him getting free again... what exactly did you say happened to him?” 

“He was grabbed by the mass of wires and... absorbed into it, is the best way I can describe it,” Freddy replied, shifting Gregory closer so he could rub soothing circles on his back. He could tell the boy was getting distressed again. “There has been no indication that William will be freed anytime soon, though that does not mean he can never do so. When we encountered him, he told us that he 'always comes back'...” 

Freddy then let out a small gasp and looked down at the boy in his arms, his eyes wide. “Gregory, do you recall your dream from the other day? You said that it sounded like the voices from the blob were speaking with you... what did they say again?” 

Thomas rushed to turn on the app again with a raised eyebrow, not knowing what Freddy was talking about but wanting to hear Gregory's answer regardless. 

“Um... They said something about someone still being here, I think…” the boy replied with a frown. “It scared me!” 

“SAID… SOMEONE… STILL… HERE… IT… SCARED… ME…” 

“I believe you specifically said ‘she’,” Freddy added, glancing at the guards. “Perhaps… Vanessa survived? We left her down there in our haste to escape…” 

“We haven’t seen any sign of her,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “But we’ll keep an eye out, I guess…” He shrugged, looking at Leon. “As long as William doesn’t get out, we can handle it—I mean, I’m sure we can handle it regardless; we’re Fazbear Security, after all!” 

Thomas grinned shakily and flexed an arm, showing off his not very prominent muscles. He brotherly instincts kicked in, wanting to add some lightheartedness to the conversation in case Gregory was getting scared; if only he could see the kid, he’d be able to tell how he was doing.

Leon sighed, patting the taser on his belt. “Unfortunately we can't really injure her if she's truly just a spirit… but if she's human, we'll do what we can to keep her away.”

“Thank you,” Freddy said, hugging onto Gregory comfortingly. “We trust that you will do your best, and we will let you know if we come across anything amiss as well.” 

“Sounds like a good a plan as any,” Thomas said with a small sigh. 

There was a lull in the conversation, and then the guard perked up again, his smile now genuine. “Okay, well, um… moving onto a better topic: we have a Bonnie update for you!”

Gregory lifted his head from Freddy’s shoulder, eager for any change in topic. “I wanna know!” 

“Yes, please share!” Freddy replied eagerly. 

“Great news this time—it looks like he’s going to be back in commission tomorrow!” Thomas announced. “That doesn’t mean he’s being reintroduced to the lineup, but the techs told us that they think they’ll be able to power him back on tomorrow night so his systems can get working again before they actually bring him out during dayshift.” He smirked mischievously, glancing at his coworker. “Leon and I graciously offered to keep an eye on him at night in case there are any issues… which basically means we more or less have the okay to take him out of Parts & Service for a bit!”

Gregory cheered, throwing his hands up into the air. “Yay! This is the best news ever!” 

Leon nodded in agreement with Thomas, turning his chair to face the two. “He's already in tip-top shape. They just want to make sure there aren’t any technical errors, but I doubt there will be after all that work...”

“Thank goodness,” Freddy said with a relieved smile. “We will all be happy to have him back with us!” 

“Our plan is to get him out of Parts & Service once our shift starts tomorrow and bring him to your room; then you guys can take him to the kids and do whatever else it is that you do,” Thomas explained, smiling softly. “I’m sure they miss him like crazy! The only thing we ask is that you get him back to Pasts & Service before dayshift—or at least back to us so we can take him there. We don’t want the techs to freak out and think he’s gone missing again the second he wakes up!”

Gregory looked back at Freddy excitedly, kicking his legs back and forth rapidly. “We'll get to see him tomorrow?! That's so great! I'll have to tell him everything!” 

Leon sat up a bit as he remembered something, beginning to look through a backpack at his feet. “I almost forgot—I bought something for Gregory on my way to work yesterday...”

“Oh?” Freddy questioned, feeling Gregory’s excitement grow even more as the idea of a present was brought up. Freddy chuckled slightly, watching Thomas’s face brighten into a grin as Leon searched. “That is very kind of you!”

Leon soon lifted out a thick book and held it out towards Freddy. It seemed to be a kids’ coloring book. “I figured he'd like this.” 

Gregory gasped, holding his hands out towards the book. “Ooh, ooh! Thank you! I wanna color in it now!” 

“Thank you, Leon!” Freddy said, leaning forward so Gregory could take the book. He watched as Gregory began rifling through it, grinning at its contents. “Gregory thanks you as well.” 

“Awesome!” Thomas said, chuckling as he watched the pages of the book rapidly being flipped through by unseen hands. “You should get a lot of use out of that, Gregory!”

“This is the best!” The boy grinned as he shut the book, hugging it to his chest. 

“It should keep him busy if he's ever waiting on Freddy,” Leon mentioned as he leaned back in his seat.

“Yes, there are some days that I am so busy I barely get a moment to charge, let alone spend time with Gregory!” The bear laughed gently, looking down at the boy in his arms. “It is much appreciated.” 

“And if you ever find yourself without Freddy during the nightshift and want someone to color with, you let me know,” Thomas added with a grin, pointing a thumb to his chest. “I grew up taking care of three little sisters, so I’m a pro at that sort of stuff if I do say so myself!”

Gregory rested his head back on Freddy's shoulder, smiling happily. “I'll let him have his own coloring page then!” 

“Gregory says you can have a page all to yourself, Thomas,” Freddy said, and the guard’s grin widened. Sparing a glance at the digital clock on the computer monitor caused the bear to gasp. “Oh goodness—it is nearly 5am! We should get Sun and Moon back to the daycare before it gets too late…” 

Thomas instantly grimaced at the mention of the daycare attendants, the knuckles on his clenched fist going white with tension. “O-Okay; we’ll let you handle that on your own!”

Leon shivered as he pushed himself closer towards his monitor. “…Yeah, you go ahead and do that.” 

After a quick farewell Freddy and Gregory exited the office, swiftly making their way back through the arcade. They stopped by their room to drop off Gregory’s new book, then headed back to the basement to find Sun sitting in the center of the floor. Most of the endoskeletons were gathered around him, some holding crayons, and there were papers with drawings and scribbles everywhere. 

“It seems like you all have been having fun!” Freddy commented as he set Gregory down, noticing Moon standing next to Flynn in the same spot they’d left them. 

“Oh, hi you two!” Sun exclaimed with a wave. “Yeah, we’ve been having the best time!” 

“He’s a natural with ‘em, that’s for sure!” Roxy commented with a laugh, walking up to Freddy and patting him on the shoulder. “And you’ve got good timing—I’ve really gotta recharge! Bye everyone!” She grinned towards the group of endos, giving them a wave before stepping onto the elevator.

“Bye, Roxy!” Robin called out, loud amidst the chorus of small voices.

“I got a coloring book!” Gregory mentioned as he walked over towards the endoskeletons and looking over their artwork.

“Ooh, how exciting!” Sun exclaimed, clapping his hands. 

“I made you guys something!” Ben piped up from within the group surrounding Sun. One of the endos bent slowly, grabbing a paper off the floor and holding it out towards Gregory. It was a drawing of four faces, two of which were clearly meant to be Freddy and Monty. The others weren’t as recognizable, though it was obvious they were kids—the name “Gregory” was written underneath the face next to Freddy, while “Ben” was by the last one. 

“It’s us!” Ben announced proudly. “’Cause we’re all friends! I didn’t have room to draw everyone else, but I’m gonna do it sometime!” 

“That looks so cool!” Gregory commented, lightly tugging Freddy’s hand to get him to look at the drawing. “Look at what Ben drew!” 

“Look at mine, too!” Ian said, holding his drawing of both Sun and Moon up with creaking joints. 

“These are wonderful!” Freddy praised. His gaze shifted over all the other pictures on the floor, intrigued to see what the other kids made—and how much they could actually draw in their current state; it was clear that some were more comfortable in their endoskeletons than others. 

“The children are so artistic!” Sun exclaimed, reaching over to gently pat the shoulders of the endos on either side of him. “When they get out, we’re going to have a huge crafting party with all kinds of coloring stuff and paint and glitter glue!” 

Gregory clapping his hands. He loved the sound of that! It seemed the kids did as well, some of them letting out small cheers and giggles. With a bright smile, Gregory remarked: “I can't wait for you guys to finally get outta here! That way we can play all the time!”

An excited murmuring took over the room as the kids started talking amongst themselves about all the fun things they’d get to do once they were free. Freddy watched them with a small smile, before turning his attention to Sun and Moon. 

“Unfortunately, we have come to take you both back to the daycare; it is already past 5am!” Freddy said, carefully folding Ben’s drawing and storing it in his stomach hatch while handing Ian’s drawing to Sun. “Moon, we will take you first since the lights are still out, and then we will return and take Sun back as Gregory lights up the Pizzaplex again.”

Moon nodded as he stood up straight, only to bonk his head on the ceiling. It didn't seem to faze him much, though. Looking back to Flynn, he gently patted the top of his head. “Of course. We’ll see you again soon, alright Flynn?” 

A few of the kids giggled as Moon made contact with the ceiling. Overall, they seemed to be much more comfortable with the night-themed animatronic than when he’d arrived a few hours prior. There were still some kids that felt a little uneasy in his presence, namely the twins, but even they’d made some progress. 

“Okaaaaaay,” Flynn whined, rocking forward slightly at the contact. 

Moon waved around the room before making his way over to the elevator, remarking as the doors shut: “Sun should be fine to go back on his own, by the way. He's a big baby about everything, ehehehe.”

There was the faintest “Hey!” as Sun heard Moon's comment, but the doors shut before the daycare attendant could respond further. 

“I am still astounded that you were able to keep the fact that you are two separate animatronics a secret for so long,” Freddy commented, then glanced down at Gregory. “To the rest of us, at least. It... does explain quite a bit though, admittedly.”

Moon looked over at Freddy, that eerie grin seeming to widen. “Oh, Sun didn't… I did.” 

“I tried to tell you!” Gregory huffed, resting his head on Freddy's shoulder. 

Freddy had no response, although his eyes narrowed slightly at Moon’s comment. Now that he could interact with them separately, he was already beginning to see how different the daycare attendants were… and not that he’d ever doubted it, but it was now 100% clear that Moon was definitely the trickster of the two. 

Freddy walked alongside Moon through darkness, his glowing eyes adding a bit of warm light to counteract Moon’s red ones. He wondered if the guards were currently watching their progress on the cameras and, if so, what they were thinking at that moment. Moon in fact seemed to focus on each and every camera as they walked by, as if he could sense the poor men in the office trying not to lose their cool each time he stared up at them.

Gregory let out a small yawn, gently squeezing Freddy's neck. “Man, I think I could sleep forever!” 

“I would advise against that; we still have so much to do!” Freddy replied with a chuckle. “But we will get you to bed soon; we just need to turn the lights back on after dropping Moon off at the daycare.”

“Thanks for helping me out of there by the way, Gregory,” Moon mentioned as the attraction came within their sightline. “Hopefully I can come out more often…” 

“I will speak with some of the staff when I have an opportunity,” Freddy replied. “Perhaps they can reconfigure some of the lighting so that it uses a dimmer function instead of just being on or off. That way, you and Sun can both spend an ample amount of time with the children!” 

“That's a good idea!” Moon replied, turning to face the pair and backing towards the first garage door. “Thanks again, you two; I’ll see you both later…”

“Farewell!” Freddy said with a wave as Moon scurried off, then turned on his heel and headed back the way they’d come. “Alright superstar, one last task before you can take a well-deserved rest!”

Gregory nodded as the lights soon started to turn back on one by one, another yawn leaving his lips. Though Sun should be able to get back to the daycare on his own, Freddy at least wanted to make sure he emerged from the basement and went on his way. Gregory was able to turn the elevator light on without actually going inside, and the pair waited to make sure Sun made it back up successfully. As the elevator returned to ground level, they heard a familiar jingling from inside. 

“Oh! Hi, you two!” Sun exclaimed as the doors opened. He stepped out, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the top of the door, and gave Gregory a pat on the top of his head. “Thanks for turning the lights back on, Sunshine! I’ll head to the daycare now; have a good sleep!” He began walking away, then paused and whirled back around, exclaiming: “Also, don’t listen to Moon—I’m not a baby about everything! He’s just a meanie sometimes!” 

“Don't worry, we won't!” Gregory reassured with a small grin. Sun gave a final wave and headed back towards the daycare, while Freddy walked himself and Gregory to their room. Once inside Freddy immediately tucked the boy into his usual spot on the couch, smiling down at him. 

“Rest well, Gregory; we have another exciting night tomorrow!” He gently ruffled the boy’s hair. “I will wake you as soon as I return.”

Gregory didn’t get to hear the end of that promise. By the time Freddy said his goodnight he was already drooling on the throw pillow. 

***

Masterlist of chapters on Tumblr here!

Please check out The Superstar Series on ao3 for all fics in this series: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2726401

[musesbykai]

Oron entered just in time to see V turn off their holo and pick up the screwdriver from the floor. Holding it by the plastic handle, to avoid shocking themself with it now that it had been zapped by their arm. Then, after grounding themself, the tool was placed in their messy, tight hair bun so they could carry the arm.

“Not quite sure ‘bout loose pieces,” they replied as they shuffled closer. “I recognize the voltage. Got a couple’a implants with the same level. Forces aggressors to back off whenever they get a hit on me.”

V soon placed the arm on Oron’s workbench. Endoskeleton completely bare, save for the hand, wrist and base of the upper arm. Even the original company it belonged to was just barely visible. Too worn out to be legible. The back of the hand had been removed, where there’s now a small stream of smoke. Clearly where V was trying to mess with something before their organic hand was so rudely shocked. ~ Kaiju-crimson-storyandask

Peering down into the arm, Oron's face was a little blank but he was quite amazed at this piece of tech. Obviously it was made by some corp, if the faded logo were to give him a decent clue about the origins of it, but the modifications... He can tell V loved to use this thing.

So that is when he decided to grab his own screwdriver, one with a rubber handle as to avoid shocking himself.

"First things first, always use a rubber handle when dealing with live electricity." Oron gave V a look before he started to really have a look inside. "It can't conduct and connect with your body through rubber."

Poking around some wires, Oron performed a scan.

"So, one of the implants has gone rogue then, yeah?"

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Damaged Goods.

Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x F. Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Sex Doll Au, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Themes of Past Abuse, and Slight Manipulation.

You really had to do something about his back.

You couldn’t imagine why you hadn’t gotten around to it already. There were more pressing issues, sure – when you’d first found Scaramouche, curled up in the alleyway behind a dive bar you’d never take him back to, he’d been missing his entire right arm below the elbow and his left ankle had been visibly beaten in with something very heavy and very powerful – but against all reason, his back had been the only thing to make you actually, physically cringe after you’d gotten him home and into your workshop. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve said he’d been caught in a fire, that someone had taken a blowtorch to the synthetic skin between his shoulder blades and the base of his spine and held it there until plastic melted into metal, until everything was charred enough to blackened, but not so burnt as to damage any of the vital mechanisms underneath. It’d take a few hours, but it wouldn’t be very hard, even if he’d pout for a while when you told him he’d have to be powered off for the repair. You had the right tools for it, but you'd need to order—

A mouth latched onto the inside of your thigh, a cold tongue lapping over your skin before two pointed teeth found their mark, biting down with a purposeful kind of harshness. You hissed, straightening your back, your hand shooting to his head and your fingers tangling themselves in his hair, dragging him away from you. There was a sharp whine of protest, followed by a disappointed groan, but you tried not to pay it any mind. “Scara?”

He blinked slowly, tilted his head back to lean into your palm. Despite that, his tone was snipped, hostile, like you'd been the one to hide yourself away underneath his worktable and bite at his legs while he was trying to work. “What do you want?”

“I thought we agreed that we were just spending time together, today.” Calm, composed, even. Not overly soft, but not too strict, either, lest he decide that he'd rather spend the day looking for expensive things to break. “No playing in the workshop, remember? It’s too dangerous.”

It wasn’t a bad excuse. The project you were currently working on – a pair of color-changing eyes for a very spoiled Ayato – wasn’t incredibly demanding, but you didn’t want him to start to think that a room full of very sharp, very temperamental tools was a good place to eat you out. Still, Scaramouche scoffed, rolling his eyes. Either unconvinced, or too apathetic towards his own safety to really care. “Don’t talk to me like that,” He muttered, shifting on his knees. You’d been tinkering with his bad ankle earlier, and his foot was still hanging loosely from his calf, only connected by a few strands of braided wiring. You’d have to reattach it later on, after smoothing out a few dents in his endoskeleton. He said you didn’t have to, that it was all superficial, but he’d been starting to limp, and as a mechanic, you couldn’t leave your own android in such a state of disrepair. “I’m not a dog. Just say you don’t want me to bother you.”

“It’s not like that.” It genuinely wasn’t. When he wasn’t sulking or sucking hickeys into whatever you gave him access to, he was good company, a good assistant, and you liked having a second pair of hands to go over your work – even if he always slipped in a snide comment about how inelegant the androids you repaired were when compared to his craftsmanship. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. When you’re fixed up, we’ll see, but right now…”

You trailed off, doing your best to shrug apologetically. He only scowled, looked away, dropped low enough to rest his cheek against your thigh in a way that (in your own defense) wasn’t totally unlike a kicked puppy. “You don’t want me.”

Pursing your lips, you pushed yourself away from your worktable, giving him that much more room to lean into you, to lay his head in your lap as you carded your fingers through his hair. “Look, Scara,” You started, and when he didn’t cut you off or try to walk away, “What do you want to do?”

His answer was short, predictable. “Make you happy.”

Meaning, in his vocabulary, make you cum. Considering his position, you could probably guess how he planned to do it, too.

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

With a sigh, you let your head lull to the side, dropping your hand to the back of his neck. “Once,” You said, with as much emphasis you can manage. “And then I need to get back to—”

He didn’t wait for you to finish, didn’t even give you a chance to. In a fraction of a second, your shorts were pulled off, your panties pushed to the side, and his tongue buried in your cunt, pushing hasty, sloppy patterns into your slit. You could feel his hands wrap around your thighs, a row of blunt nails digging harshly into soft flesh, and you winced, but didn’t pull away, didn’t tell him to stop and loosen up. He was clearly feeling insecure, even if you couldn’t tell exactly why. The least you could do was let him get a little rough.

Instead of correcting him, you tried to focus on his lips sealing around your clit, sucking just harshly enough to send a spike of sudden, searing electricity down your spine before his eagerness won over, before he went back to fucking his tongue into you in short, shallow thrusts. He didn’t have to breathe, an underappreciated courtesy of not being built with lungs, but you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at his neediness, at just how eager he seemed to bury himself inside of you as deeply as he possibly could. His memory card had been wiped twice over, every databank you had access to completely cleared, but still, you couldn’t help but think of it as a holdover, something as deeply ingrained into him as the burn scars painted across his back - deeper, even. That damage, you couldn't smooth over with a few hours of work and spare parts.

“Easy, now,” You mumbled, your voice low but clearly audible. If he heard you, though, he wasn't paying attention, didn’t make any effort to actually listen. If anything, his movements only grew more intense, his tongue curling against your walls as he moaned – the reverberation drawing a sharp, airy gasp out of you. You’d tested other companion droids before, tried everything from Capitano to Venti, but Scaramouche was the first android who’d ever genuinely needed to get you off – or, at least, that first who was able to put on a good enough act to make it seem that way. It was worse when you actually had time to let him fuck you, when you could give him the hours he needed to rut into your pussy until his stores were empty and his battery was nearly dead, until you were too exhausted and too overstimulated to tell him to stop before he managed to exacerbate any of the injuries you had yet to patch up. He liked being the center of your attention, liked being close to you. It seemed like he thought, in his own words, 'making you happy' was the best way to accomplish that.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew this wasn’t the way an android was supposed to function. You knew that his behavior was irrational, that he didn’t listen to direct orders, that no companion droid should ever be so stubborn, so eager to soak in your affection while simultaneously doing whatever he could to deflect it. You knew that, if it was one of your clients, you’d suggest that they contact Teyvat's resources, that they either return their droid immediately or power them down indefinitely. You knew that he was a little too manic, and a little too frantic, and...

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. Not really. Not when it came to your droid, at least. Not when it came to your Scaramouche.

He nuzzled further into you, his nose grinding against your clit, and you clenched your eyes shut, lurching forward and taking up his hair, again, half as a reward and half as a means of keeping him as close as you possibly could. Not that he needed your help. With another squeeze to your thighs, another pitchy moan, you were crying out, coming undone on his tongue minutes after he decided he needed you to. You let him nurse you through it, only tugging him away when the first pangs of overstimulation started to set in. He started to whine, to protest, but bit his tongue, his dignity winning out over his desperation. That was something you liked about Scaramouche. He was cute when he couldn’t decide what he really wanted.

You smiled, tapped your thigh, and without hesitation, he clambered into your lap, only momentarily fazed by the fact that he was still missing a foot. You could see his flushed cheeks as he straddled your waist, feel his cock pressing into your stomach, but he didn’t complain, didn’t say a word as he wrapped his arms around your neck, burying his face in your chest. You’d have to pry him away eventually, get him to sit still just long enough for you to finish his ankle, but that could wait.

Like his back - like everything about Scaramouche - you were sure it'd be fine if you waited just a little bit longer.

[mable-stitchpunk]

19 for the puppet. Any version is fine it’s up to you

Something was wrong. He knew it had been for days, watching the lines of static flickering across his vision and suspecting it had something to do with a particularly hard thump he had gotten on the back of the head while being moved. It had felt like something shifted and right afterwards the static had began to appear.

But what was he supposed to do? He wasn't in a situation where he could waltz up to a technician, tap them on the shoulder, and demand a full round of tune-ups. He could just go along with it and hope that this thing he couldn't reach would not progress into something worse.

Until it was eleven o'clock in the evening, the music box was neglected, and the Puppet rose from his box to find that the Prize Corner was nothing but a black abyss. This was impossible, he could see in the dark.

Except that he couldn't. He couldn't see.

Then came the panic. Marionette fumbled out of his box, but he was entirely disoriented. It was like he was hovering in nothingness, in the void, and couldn't ground himself until he slammed himself right into the prize counter. He clung to it desperately as his legs slid on the tiled floor.

His music suddenly began to spill forth. His typical “Pop Goes the Weasel” blared with panic, triggered by his fight-or-flight reflex and nearly wailing as he stiffly grappled at the counter and tried to piece together what he could do, if this was permanent. The thought only made the music increase with shrill, wavering chimes.

The only noise that came close to breaking past the mess was the clatters of rapidly approaching footsteps that were followed by Foxy suddenly dashing into the Prize Corner and brandishing his hook, searching for whatever was attacking the Puppet. It took him only a few seconds to realize there was nothing there.

Marionette recognized Foxy behind him and turned in his direction, reaching around until he suddenly grabbed his arm. The pirate flinched and stared down at the grip in surprise, not expecting to be touched by the Puppet. If not for a desperate voice calling through the static and music- a voice he barely heard in years, mind you- he might’ve not snapped out as quickly.

“F-F-Foxy! Can’t- Can’t see! Blind!”

Foxy turned so quickly that it sounded like his neck snapped, accidentally wrenching his arm out of Marionette’s grasp. This threw the Puppet off and he started to fall forward, only to be caught by the pirate in the last second. 

Foxy stared momentarily down at Marionette before awkwardly trying to pick him up. ‘Awkward’ was the best way to describe it too, with Foxy clumsily running out the door and breaking into a sprint, nearly running into what sounded like Balloon Boy if instead of laughing he just gave a confused whine. 

Marionette could only cling to Foxy and try to make sense of where they were going through the motion, but even that was hard in this state. He didn’t realize where they were going until Foxy nearly kicked down a door- then had to stop and wedge against the door so he could turn the knob with his arm- and staggered into a cold room.

“Fix him,” Foxy said. His voice was so stony and serious that he almost sounded unlike the pirate fox. It even held a touch of recognizable fear. “He can’t see. He’s blind. Fix him.”

It was then that Marionette knew exactly where he was and knew why Foxy sounded so visibly distressed and unattached in his voice.

“Bring him here.”

Foxy almost flinched at the voice but carried the Puppet forward and knelt before setting him down. Marionette could feel himself being laid over a familiar set of legs before a pair of warm, fabric hands lifted his head and aimed his face towards its humming voice. 

“It’s okay, Marion. I can fix this.”

Marionette couldn’t help but believe him and was more than willing to let him do anything, until he felt a strange pressure on his mask, something shifting inside, and then a much too loud click.

Suddenly the world was even more distorted. Even though he already couldn’t see, now his whole body went numb and he couldn’t make sense of where he was. He flailed his limbs, but they felt weak and wrong, and his whole self shook as he tried to get a semblance of stability. 

“Calm down, you’re alright. I just removed your mask, but I’ll be quick.”

Now Marionette was especially concerned. The mask wasn’t supposed to come off; not even the technicians had been able to remove it, yet it came off so easily. His body was feeling more tingly as he got a sensation of slipping. Then he felt something inside of his head, touching at his endo.

Then something clicked into place and the world came back into view. Though now it was massively distorted and confused, and it was almost enough to panic before his mask was lifted from his chest and clicked back into place, sealing almost seamlessly against the endoskeleton underneath.

The Puppet’s vision cleared instantly and instead of staring into darkness, he was looking up at the familiar face of a yellow bear. Of course it would be Goldie who would put him back together again, just like he always did.

“Just a loose wire. Nothing we can’t fix... But you need to be careful. Your body’s not invincible, and I won’t be here forever to fix you,” Goldie said with a gentle sternness. Marionette gave a slight nod, and the bear rewarded this by pulling him into a soft hug. 

All the while, Foxy watched from the doorframe. By now Freddy and Bonnie had come up in the hallway, but Foxy kept them held back as he watched the scene with remorse. Maybe even with a little envy.

Even when he tried, he couldn’t be the hero his brother needed. 

[iamthekaijuking]

This is @a-beepbop and I’s renditions of the 1,000,000 year old Ancient Skeleton from Subnautica (which I will now refer to as the armored leviathan from now on).

This sucker is probably one of Subnautica’s biggest biological mistakes. It had both an endoskeleton and exoskeleton, yet the endoskeleton has fused to the exoskeleton and is barely visible. It has no nostrils (which is a reoccurring problem in Subnautica skeletons). The lower jaw has no attachment point to the skull and would have barely been able to have opened due to the shell getting in the way. It was so heavy that I doubt it could swim. The skeleton has groves in it that serve absolutely no purpose (other than being a rather pathetic attempt at trying to look cool). And finally the most obvious goof… the stupid holes that serve no purpose.

Now I often like to brag about how I’m a freakin’ wizard at biology, and how if you gave me a fictional creature and told me to give you a run down on it’s biology, then I’d go to insane lengths to describe the external anatomy and biology as well as the possible internal anatomy. But this?! I had no idea what to do, and I was so stumped that I had to call up my good friend @a-beepbop and spend an entire night speculating about what this thing even is.

But we finally came up with two theories that work.

My theory is that the armored leviathan was a slug-like filter feeder, and that the weird holes were actually modified gills. It would have propped itself up on ledges and sucked in zooplankton rich water through its mouth, while the giant scary looking teeth really just kept things out of its mouth that were too big to be eaten (as well as looking scary to any predators). I provided a side view of the head and armored gills, as well as a sketch of it feeding during an algae bloom. This sketch is actually a modified and colored trace over of a sketch that @a-beepbop made (I did it with their permission and have provided a picture of the original sketch that they made).

The second theory is something that @a-beepbop briefly suggested. They mentioned that it might be an unfortunate individual affected by an incredibly rare disease called Fibrodysplasia, which is a very rare disease where fibrous tissues (like muscles for example) turn into bone when damaged. Now if this is the case then it would explain why the armored leviathan skeleton has those weird groves on it. Despite the fact that we agreed that my filter feeding slug theory is probably more likely, I actually like their theory more than mine. They also made a sketch of what they think a normal armored leviathan would look like.

[i-also-miss-our-talks]

His Bro’s Sis ~ Jeremy Heere x Mell!Reader

Requested by @spooky-scary-endoskeleton: Hey hey hey, can I have Jeremy pinning on (I think that's the word??) Michael's sister? One-shot if you can, thanks! :)

I hope you like this! Let me know your thoughts, pls!

WC: 1,829

Warning: Couple swear words?

Masterlist

“Y/N! Get your ass up! We’re gonna be late for school,” your ever-so-loving brother, Michael, yelled at you through your bedroom door.

“I’m going! Chill, Michael,” you responded, quickly throwing on some jeans and a sweatshirt before making your way out the door. You ran downstairs, gave a quick goodbye to your parents, and hopped into your older, by ten months, brothers PT Cruiser. Why he insisted on buying that car for himself, you’ll never know.

Michael got in after you and drove you two to school. Upon arrival, the both of you split to go to your separate classes, promising to meet up at lunch with Michaels best friend, Jeremy. You had to admit, Jeremy somehow managed to catch your eye nowadays. Knowing him since he was ten probably helped to see the blessings that puberty had given him. His brown hair that seemed to glow even under the cheap, florescent lights, his lopsided smile whenever he found something slightly amusing, and even his (barely visible) muscles that he somehow snagged from the years of late night video games in either his or your basement.

To say you were crushing on Jeremy Heere would be a quite accurate statement. But you weren’t running after him, trying to gain his attention. He could have any girl he wanted, after all.

But the girl he wanted, was you. Yes, Jeremy was pinning after Y/N Mell. The little sister of his best friend. He had watched you mature into a beautiful and sophisticated young lady; a flower that emerged from a small bud.  And Jeremy was lucky enough to stand back and watch you bloom. He wanted nothing more than to show you how much of a flower you had become. He wanted to give you everything you wanted and never let you fall asleep alone. He wanted the world to know how amazing you are, but he also wanted to hold you close and keep you to himself. He wanted to know everything about you, yet wanted to experience new interests you might enjoy with you. Jeremy was in love with you.

So when you walked up to him with Michael on the first day of his junior year to share lunch, he smiled his lopsided smile and straightened his back, hoping to appear taller than he already was in order to gain your attention. “Hey, Mell’s,” he greeted.

Michael flung an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders. “Jeremy! My buddy, how’s it hanging? Lunch is banging! We’ve got our sushi’s, got our slushies and more!”

You rolled your eyes and handed Jeremy a 7/11 bag. “By ‘more’, he means we grabbed you a bag of chips and some cookies. I don’t know why he couldn’t just say that but I guess he prefers to rhyme everything today,” you sighed.

Jeremy laughed and grabbed the bag from your hands, desperately trying to control the blush that threatened to cover his cheeks. “Let me guess; Bob Marley?”

“As always,” you laughed, sending shivers up Jeremys spine. Oh, how he would love to hear that laugh everyday. Especially if he was the one that caused it. “So, are we gonna go to lunch or just stand around?” You looked between the two, seeing that neither of them we’re making any initiative to move. You rolled your eyes and walked away, muttering a “Boys” under your breath.

Once you were out of sight, Michael removed his headphones and faced his friend. “Dude, you look like ass. What’s wrong?”

Jeremy sighed. “I wrote Y/N a letter telling her how I feel.”

Michael smiled brightly. He knew his best friend and sister were crushing on the other, but neither one was making a move. If they didn’t do something fast, he was going to have to intervene. “That’s progress!”

“Yeah, but I tore it up and flushed it!”

“Ugh.” So much for that plan.

“It’s still progress,” Jeremy said, trying to lighten the mood.

Michael shook his head. “It’s all good. I’m telling you, though, Y/N feels the same way for you that you do for her.”

Jeremy sighed. “How would you know? You’re not inside her head.”

“I’m her brother, Jer. I’m always inside her head. And in her room, reading little notes she tries to write for you,” he said, pulling out his phone to show him the pictures of the notes he took.

The stripped boy pushed the phone away. “Those are fake. There’s no way she would like me like that.”

The bell rang, indicating lunch was over and also indicating that it was time for Michael to take matters into his own hands. “Listen here, Heere,” Michael said, then took a moment to laugh at his wording. “You. My house. Apocalypse of the Damned. After school. Got it?”

Jeremy nodded. “Got it.”

“Good. Oh, and, don’t walk there, okay? I don’t need your sweaty pits messing with my weed down there,” Michael said before heading off to meet you for the one class you two shared.

After school, as soon as you and Michael pulled into your driveway, you saw Jeremy walking down the sidewalk. “What’s Jeremy coming over for?”

Michael frowned and slammed his head against the steering wheel. “I told him not to fucking walk,” he mumbled as the horn blasted.

“Mike, get your face off the horn. Unless you want to deal with the complaining neighbors,” you said and hopped out of the car. “Hey, Jer!” You waved and smiled at him.

Jeremy smiled (his lopsided smile) and waved back. “Hey, Y/N!” He crossed through your yard to meet you at your front door. “How long is Michael gonna blast his horn for?”

You shrugged. “It varies, really.” You smiled and opened the door. “Come on in, Jeremy. We can grab a snack while Michaels still in his car.” You leaned close to him and whispered, “I know where his secret stash is.”

Jeremy, though blushing out the closeness, nodded and followed you inside the kitchen. He set his backpack by the door and watched as you removed your shoes and bag. He felt weird watching you do such simple tasks, but he couldn’t help it. Everything you did fascinated him.

You stood on the tips of your toes as you tried to reach the top cupboard. Unfortunately, Michael had at least three inches on you, therefore he hid his best snacks where he knew you couldn’t get to them. You then decided the only way to get to them was to climb onto the counter. So you began your journey, but was promptly stopped.

“Y/N!” Jeremy came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “There’s an easier way to do this,” he said and lifted you up so you were face to face with the cupboard.

You blushed and grabbed a bag of Doritios, two Crystal Pepsi’s, and a box of Cheez-It’s. You closed the cabinet and let Jeremy set you down. You turned around in his arms and clutched the snacks to your chest as you noticed his expression.

Jeremy was looking at you the same way Eugene looks at Rapunzel, the same way Chat Noir looks at Ladybug, the same way Kirito looks at Asuna, the same way a guy looks at the girl he loves. That’s how Jeremy was looking at you.

“Y/N?” Jeremy whispered.

You nodded. “Yeah?”

He didn’t respond. Not with words, anyway. But with a sweet kiss to your lips. Unfortunately, as soon as he did, he pulled back, in fear that you didn’t feel the same way.

You smiled and leaned forward, once again connecting your lips. Jeremy smiled and kissed you back, moving one of his hands from your waist to hold your cheek.

And that’s exactly how Michael found you two when he walked through the door.

“Y/N Y/M/N Mell!” You two pulled away instantly, whipping your heads around to face your brother. “Are those my Doritos?”

You smiled. “They’re ours now!”

Michael lunged forward, trying to get his snacks back. Lucky for you, Jeremy stood in front of you, blocking his path. “Y/N, I can only block him for so long! Save the snacks!”

You laughed—holy shit Jeremy was going to explode he made you laugh!—and ran up towards your room, closing and locking the door. You sat on your bed and traced your lips with your fingers. Holy crap, you just kissed Jeremy Heere. Holy crap he just kissed you back!

Not even two minutes later, a knock pulled you out of your thoughts. “Yo, sis. Come here for a sec,” Michael said.

You tucked the snacks under your bed and unlocked and opened the door. “What, Michael? You’re not getting your snacks back, if that’s what you’re gonna ask.”

Michael shook his head. “No. That’s not it. I just wanted to say if you ever break Jeremy’s heart, I will kill you.”

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to tell Jeremy that about me?”

Your brother shrugged. “What can I say? Bro’s before Hoe’s.”

Michael got a swift slap across the cheek and a punch to the gut for that comment.

“Do not get on your bad side. Good to know,” Jeremy laughed and stepped over a withering Michael to enter your room. “So…”

You smiled and shut the door, leaving Michael to cry out in pain outside your room. “So?”

Jeremy ran a hand through his glowing hair. “Do you, maybe, wanna get dinner? You can so no, of course! It’s your decision after all! And besides, maybe you already have plans for tonight. Yeah, you already—“

“Jeremy,” you cut him off by grabbing his hand. “I’d love to get dinner with you tonight.”

“Really? Awesome!” Jeremy blushed and intertwined your fingers. “I mean, uh, cool, yeah,” he mumbled. But eventually, Jeremy sighed. “No, I really mean awesome. I’m really happy you said yes.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’m really happy you asked me out.” You let go of his hands and ran to your bed, pulling out the snacks from underneath. “Wanna watch some TV before dinner?”

Jeremy smiled and grabbed the Pepsi’s from your hand. “Absolutely!” He opened the door for you and held out his hand for you to take as you stepped over Michael. He intertwined your fingers as you two walked downstairs and to the basement. There, you turned on the TV and found a random show for you two to watch. You both hopped onto Jeremy’s bean bag and cuddled while indulging in your brothers snacks.

Thankfully, Jeremy’s years of pinning had paid off. And even though you are amazing, he’s secretly glad you’re Michael’s sister because not only does he end up with a beautiful bride five years later, but his best friend becomes his brother-in-law. Of course, Michael’s just an added bonus. The real prize for him was being able to call you his wife.

[plushmenace]

springed-bnuuy​:

“O-Oh…I-I’m a s-s-s-spring lock s-suit/a-animatronic,"he replied, "Th-The fi-first S-Spring B-Bonnie m-model. I-I could sh-show you wh-wh-what’s under my fur I-if you’re curious.” It didn’t bother him to have fiberglass plating and an endoskeleton under his fur and clothes. He was an animatronic!

He pulled the fur that made a glove over one of his hands off, it was the easiest to get off. The rest required unzipping a zipper on his back or taking the face plate and hood off on his head. This was the simplest. He pulled the sleeve of fur he had up to uncover the plating he had up to his elbow that gave his forearm form and kept the springs and mechanical bits from being caught on his furry skin. He took the plates off carefully to show the endoskeleton arm be had beneath. The spring locks were visible now.

Spring Bonnie’s fur can just...come off? Wow, that must make it way easier to wash! Which makes sense, Plushtrap supposes. Spring Bonnie’s way too big to go into the washing machine.

Ah, that’s what the ‘Spring’ part must mean. Plushtrap never thought he’d get to meet a working springlock model. He remembers watching a training tape on how those suits got ‘retired’ for being ‘absurdly deadly.’ Then again, as long as no one wears Spring Bonnie, that should avoid the cascading springlock failure problem. He claps in appreciation. Maybe Spring Bonnie being able to dissasemble himself makes him less dangerous for maintenance. Well, good for Spring Bonnie!

One of the many perks of Plushtrap’s Job is that he can go pretty much anywhere in the Pizzaplex that vermin can be found, which is pretty much anywhere in the Pizzaplex. But he wonders in what part of the Pizzaplex he’ll be likely to see Spring Bonnie. Back to the whiteboard! 

‘YOUR JOB?’

Oh m-m-my goodness...Y-Y-You look like a d-d-d-delightful little fellow.

Plushtrap is, in fact, at least two of those things! He nods at the ra-

at the-

the yellow-

There's another yellow rabbit here. He's not the only one anymore! It's a shame he has no idea who this one is, where he came from, what he does, or any other information. Well, one problem at a time. Plushtrap withdraws the little dry erase board from his backpack and draws two rabbits. The smaller one has an arrow pointing to it labeled 'PLUSHTRAP'. The larger one has a similar arrow but with '???'

Right, that ought to cover it.

[dortykid]

Short-Story: Magiteched

Been a while, haven't had the urge to write, but here's a new story to quench your thirsts (if you're even thirsty for these). Warning, this one contains a surgical procedure, so if you're not able to handle stuff like that, you don't need to read this.

----------------------------------

A few months had passed since Jukkerbaut's disappearance, shortly after the thing had reached the Ring of Fire. All tracking on him had been shut down, as were all sources of communication or sending messages. Even the vital readings that would have been received and displayed on the screen in the dark lab were offline. Jukkerbaut was completely gone, or at least, completely gone from under control; the metal beast was left to roam the landscape, doing alchemy-knows what.

Although, Zaxaxx knew no better at what had really happened, for he had taken the assumption Dorty had finally eliminated it on the fire isles. In all honesty, he was expecting that to happen in the future anyways; Jukkerbaut was his first creation, after all. A hulking behemoth of a burnt, fleshy charr underneath with a tough, metal exoskeleton on top, surrounding the squishy insides in a protective coating. The mind was wiped of most previous memories, and then imputed with new code and orders to follow, essentially making the charr a loyal servant.

Alas, time was starting to take its toll anyhow. The chip in Jukkerbaut's mind was glitching out, and occasional shut-downs were becoming more and more common. Even after Zaxaxx had made some adjustments himself after such a long while, Jukkerbaut was still loaded with bugs. All he needed was one good push and he would be destroyed, either by the chip being destroyed and shutting down the brain, killing them within, or the armor would be exploited and leave them exposed, easily leaving them open for being killed.

How long was it ago that Jukkerbaut was made? A couple of years, perhaps, or more, but Zaxaxx had improved on his technique since then. He had some practice with working with Scarlet's twisted watchwork, admiring the rather larger one he had acquired, and to which struck his inspiration. After acquiring the corpse of a dead asura, he began working to compress the larger machine down into smaller parts, before cutting up the dead asura and shoving the machinations into them. From there, all he had to do was make some new, more complex coding, and soon Xakat was born, a horrendous watchwork creation cleverly disguised as an asura. Unfortunately, it wasn't the most convincing. While the metal and such inside was almost perfectly hidden, it was rather obvious that this asura was previously dead. He did whatever in his necrotic powers he could do to cover this up, stitching parts back together, a few touch-ups on the face and head, then a cost and other clothes to cover the rest.

Once Xakat was complete and ready, he sent him out to the Wastes to gather intel on the Inquest security development from the local krewe there. For a while it worked, and Xakat had sent back numerous designs for security and such that Zaxaxx could use. Sadly, the krewe leader caught on to some of the issues Xakat was causing, and when he was found out, the watchwork within him sprung into its full form, eradicating anyone it could find in the lab to leave no trace. Sadly, Xakat was destroyed halfway through his rampage, but thankfully the core in the chestpiece that was inside of him was rigged to explode shortly after death, but even that was faulty. In the end, it was another experiment down the drain, but what was learned and earned was going to further aid in this dark research.

Following this, Zaxaxx proceeded to focus more on the same technology used with the Peacemakers armor, throwing in some of the watchwork and golem technology, as well as a few dribbles of the toxic fluids he has developed. These creations that soon came were more focused on single things, rather than balance the usage. Each one he made was more advanced than the next, as he experimented with new ways to gear them, ranging from blades to internal functions.

The next creation he made after Xakat was a norn with their arms and legs sawed off, and replaced with legs like that of a golem dog, if those even existed, and a large turret on their back, which he called the L4Z-Walker. The idea was for them to run around on all fours, while the turret on top shot beams of energy out at targets. The two things worked seperatly, meaning the norn part could focus on one thing while the turret focused on another. A deadly weapon good for laying siege on places, but it had yet to go out into the field for a real test.

After that came what he called the A5A-Leecher. His ideas for this one were more nefarious than before, taking a human female and implanting blades onto their arms, legs, and back, but that wasn't the important part. The important part was the multiple short-ranged mechanical tendrils that were able to puncture into flesh, and suck out blood to power the thing, hence the "Leech" in the name. For good measure and extra terror, one of these replaced the tongue, where as the A5A stabbed into its helpless target, the tendril would come out of the mouth and jab into the victim to speed up the draining process.

Zaxaxx continued to make more of these nightmarish creations for some time, all with watchwork built into them under the surface of the skin, or visible in some areas. All of them had chips implanted into their brains to wipe their memories and replace them with code, if he hadn't removed it himself and just replaced it with pure code, but he found that if a creature can think, they could make decisions and thus be able to deal with targets easier, or escape. After all, a damaged creation dragging itself back to him was better than a destroyed one that was either left dead or stolen.

For the current moment, the A5A and the L4Z were guarding the various doors in the lab, along with the others. His current plan was to make as many of these as he could without being found out, and then send them all out to finally deal with the pathetic asura he always hated. After that would come the attacking of any settlement that wasn't asuran, taking the dead that were taken and making more of these minions for himself, until all that would be left would be the asura race, with no idiotic beings to drag them down. That, however, would be far in the future, should this come to that, and for the moment he was sterilizing tools for his next project.

The dimly-lit green glow from above gave the lab a poisonous look, the light illuminating the center of the lab where his worktable was, or rather his operating table. Strapped down on the thing was a young human girl that, rather than kill, he put to sleep and kidnapped to bring back here. Normally, his creations were revived bodies, but this one was still live, he was curious how this one would differ from the others, and he already had ideas how to make this one. The A5A and L4Z had wandered into the room to examine the being who would soon be their next soldier, sitting above to watch the process.

Done with the cleaning, Zaxaxx set the tools on a rolling table to bring over next to the operating one. Atop it, aside from the tools, were the various pieces of tech he was going to put into her. He wouldn't be able to stick a watchwork endoskeleton into them without killing them, so external and partially internal incisions would have to be done. He had left the sleeping girl in a cooling chamber over the night to reduce their temperature, and minimize blood loss from cuts.

The part of the floor under the asura and the rolling table rose up to a suitable height where the subject was about level with his waist. He looked over their sleeping form, they were almost too innocent to do this to, but he had little to no mercy. Just to prepare for the surgery early, he went ahead and ripped out the left eye while they were still in the cooling chamber, some blood was still visible in the socket where it once was. Zaxaxx grinned, turning to grab a vial off of the roller and uncork it, carefully pouring the contents in a single, straight line across the forearm, close to the girls elbows. The A5A above him tilted its head, and started to climb down from the seat above.

"No, A5A, you may not take the blood directly from the girl." He scowled at it, making it stop for a moment, before he continued. "You may, however, be of assistance and clean up the floor as I work. I believe this will get at least a little bit messy."

Nodding as if in understanding, the A5A crawled down all the way, taking cover under the operating table, the metal tendrils poised to suck up any blood that spilled onto the workspace.

Zaxaxx stood there for a few moments, wondering where else he would pour the fluid, before shrugging and setting it back, picking up a handsaw. He held the tool over the fluid line on one of the arms, bringing it down slowly until it touched the skin. The next moment, he began bringing it back and forth, back and forth, the sound of flesh being ripped through echoing through the chamber, accompanied by the splatters of blood that were gushing out. As he had asked it to, the A5A's tendrils were zipping around frantically to suck up the blood, fueling itself with the life-sustaining cells. The gentle cutting sound was quickly replaced by the grinding sound of bone-against-saw, Zaxaxx hastening the motions and applying more force until it was cut through, and kept going until it hit the metal of the operating table. Lifting the saw back up over his shoulder, he grasped the dismembered arm with his free hand, purposefully dropping it onto the floor beneath him. The sound of metal piercing through flesh rang out from underneath the operating table, Zaxaxx grinning as the A5A punctured the hand and began to viciously suck it dry.

With one forearm off, Zaxaxx leaned over the body and began to do the same with the other one now, just as quickly as the previous one due to the blood oozing out now, cutting through the flesh and bone before dropping the second arm for A5A to consume, though it was still busy with the first one. He set the saw down, picking up two hands, very similar in design to Jukkerbaut's, but different functions. One hand had a hook built into the palm to shoot out to grab someone, while the other had a sword that flipped out from the underside of the arm to use. Green crystals were built into these ones, storing the energy from his latest, unique toxin, that was both deadly and could energize. Rather, it would energize the girl but harm anything else. How he was going to do this however he had already figured out. In the meantime, he stuck the hands over the bleeding stumps, spiked sensors digging into the flesh to pick up nervous signals, allowing the subject to move them around.

Next, he grabbed what seemed to be some kind of scooper, a strange mix between a sharp edge and a double ice-cream scoop. He opened it up, then stuck it down into the skin right above the sternum, and then clamped the two parts together through the flesh, pulling up to remove a spherical chunk from near the top of her chest, perfect in size for the next part of the procedure.

A bright green power crystal was sitting on the roller, which he grabbed, examining it for any imperfections. It was filled with the toxins that were also in the hands, but this had a ring of sockets around it sticking in, just a little off-center. On the very bottom was a single spike of the crystal pultruding out of the almost-perfect spherical shape. Carefully, he lowered the crystal down into the cut he made, the spiked end first, until it was about half-way in and half-way sticking out, just what he had hoped for.

Next, he grabbed two objects for the following part: an eye-visor, as he called those things that work as eye-patches, except they can work like normal eyes and more, and a tiny vacuum. He started with opening the empty eye socket up and using the vacuum to suck out the excess blood that was there, before setting that down. Then, he fastened the eye-visor over the socket, clicking on a single switch on the side just to turn it on. Connecting it to the brain for registering would come later.

Now that most of the risky parts were done, it was time to outfit the subject with some actual clothing so he wasn't seeing them naked. Thankfully for him, he had taken the liberty to scan their form and create a permanent tunic to cover up their torso in. Stepping off of the elevated floor, he waddled over to a control panel that was linked up to a great multi-tool device attached to the ceiling. Normally, he would use this to place watchwork endoskeletons into subjects, but this time it would be used for something else.

A claw reached down and gently grabbed the girl by the sides of their head, lifting them up into the air. Two more claws moved to pick up the metallic tunic Zaxaxx had put together for them, and proceeded to open up the back of it, then placing it over the girls body before folding it around and reattaching it on the back. Another device lowered down to the opening in the tunic that was meant to hold the crystal in, and gently pushed that in place before activating the small coat. Immediately, small plugs extended out of the small holes within the larger hole, and connected into the crystal, pulling the hole around it tightly so as not to leave any gaps.

The two claws from before were already pulling some metallic pants onto their legs, which also had boots connected to the bottom of them, with blades on the heels and knees. They moved away with their job done while the third device started to fasten the clothing into them, making it stay so it wouldn't be able to be taken off, at least not normally.

Now the second to final step of the whole procedure was ready. One final instrument of the large multi-tool, a sharp needle, gently stuck into the back of the girls head, just a little on the left side, inserting the chip that would allow Zaxaxx to program their directives. Meanwhile, one of the claws was attaching a circular device tightly around the needle onto the side of her head, for future fixes if they were needed. The claw holding her up began to lower her back onto the operation table, facedown this time, so the needle could stay in her so this chip could continue to be edited.

Zaxaxx clapped slowly, admiring the newest creation of his. All that was left now was the programming. He stepped away from the controller and over to the larger computer to begin coding. He glanced back at the girl, then back at the computer, starting to type.

>POWER VENOM INSTALLATION:1 >LINK @ E73 >NAME:

He paused here, names were usually difficult to come up with. He tapped his foot impatiently, glancing back at the girl again. A5A and L4Z were looming over her while he was typing. He turned back to the computer, typing in something out of the norm, because this one wasn't his usual creation.

>NAME: L3SSA

He nodded, liking it, then continued to type.

>LINK @ SW-2 >LINK @ GR-2 CHECKING FOR POWER CORE...

Now that everything was linked up, he waited a few moments for the rest of the installation process to go on by itself. One that was done, he could type in directives, and direct her to, of course, kill Dorty. He let out a short laugh, followed by some more hysterical laughter, for this was his finest creation yet.

Suddenly, a red light began to flash on and off above them, his laughter cut short by a grimacing snort as he glared near the main exit. He swung his head to glare at the other two creations, pointing toward the door. They began to scuttle and crawl towards it, while he grabbed one of his saws to bring along with him. Whoever had broken in was going to regret every single little decision they had ever made in their life that led up to this moment.

>POWER CORE DETECTED, INSTALLING ENERGY... >WIPING CURRENT MEMORY... >PREPARING TRACKER INSTALLATION... >ERROR: INSTALLATION INTERRUPTED >PREPARING TRACKER INSTALLATION... >ERROR: INSTALLATION INTERRUPTED

A5A leapt out from behind the corner, metallic tendrils poised, only to be greeted with the closed front door. L4Z and Zaxaxx followed shortly behind to witness the mystery. One of the windows in the door had powered down, and on the floor was a rock.

"This is it?" Zaxaxx huffed, stomping forward to pick it up. "This is what set off the alarm?" He snarled, tossing it aside. He had been hoping some bookah or an asura would be here, but instead whoever it was threw a hard object through his door and ran. If this was their idea of a prank, it was a very poor one.

Zaxaxx slowly turned and walked back toward the two, glaring at L4Z. "Blast the rock." He spoke, turning back toward the central chamber. L4Z's back-cannon took aim, and charged up before releasing a blast that charred the surrounding structure while destroying said rock.

Just outside the door back into the chamber, Zaxaxx looked back at his two creations, wondering just when he should even send them out. The blaring alarm couldn't allow him to think, so for now he just had to go back in and turn it off himself, opening the door.

He stared inside for a few moments, then screamed in rage.

The operation table was empty, the needle broken, the console left on an endless loop of attempts. L3SSA had somehow escaped, but how? Was the rock a distraction? Did they just wake up and walk away?

After some moments thinking, it hit him: the drug he used to capture the girl was a powerful tranquilizer, meant to last for at least a day. It must have run out while she way laying there, giving her the chance to break out and escape.

Even still, Zaxaxx stiffened up in anger, unsure what else to say about the matter. On one hand, at least the procedure worked; he had successfully created a living minion to serve him, one that wasn't resurrected. On the other hand, they had escaped, and now doing something else for all he knew. Or maybe...

Zaxaxx stomped over to the computer, punching a button to turn on all of his devices that were already programmed correctly. He typed in a command:

>SEARCH LAB AND RETRIEVE L3SSA IF HERE

The sounds of mechanical creatures waking up and moving quickly became apparent over the alarm, which was promptly shut off. Zaxaxx sighed, but grinned a little. He could further enhance his future creations with the things he had learned from this one. Already, a new idea was forming, one for specifically dealing with leaders. While his many creations scourged the lab for L3SSA, Zaxaxx began typing in notes for his next creation...

...and all the while, L3SSA was lost, with no memory, in an unfamiliar world.

[axolotiels]

Nuclear Winter

    GLaDley Fallout AU Oneshot; I hope its... decent lmao

    Everyone had heard the millions of jokes about 'nuclear winter' on the radio, particularly from Radio New Vegas. If it was any consolation to them, the denizens that joked about this, so very far away and safe from it in Nevada, would never have to endure a nuclear winter. The unfortunate group of synths that holed up in a mountain valley somewhere in Michigan, however, did. Sure, there were no deathclaws when it got this cold, but half of the time, Her turrets pumped them full of lead before they could shoulder too far into the territory anyway. Raiders knew to keep away from the valley basin, Black Mesa Scrapyard couldn't make the climb over the mountaintops, and their hard-drives never over-heated, but they still couldn't bring themselves to actually enjoy the flurry white season. 

   It was the visibility that made Wheatley the grumpiest. So what if the optic itself was cracked? The least they could do would be to fix the glass inside or to turn off the video-transmitter so it wouldn't give him an odd spider web crackle breaking up his vision. If he could root around in his own head, he would. Well, maybe not, but for god's sake, it was annoying to see white cracks on one side of your head in the thick of a blizzard. 

    The snow beneath his feet crunched and collapsed as he trudged along the outskirts of the territory. Usually, he wouldn't head out on his own, but someone was already at his destination waiting for him, and this was the least dangerous time of year. His bat was slung over his shoulder, its electric crackle muffled by the harsh wind and snappy snow. He'd been given some new winter clothes, thankfully enough; even if he couldn't get cold, he didn't like it when snow got into the open side of his face and gunked up his gears by freezing overnight. It was thick black and white Kevlar; it did not occur to Wheatley on a conscious level that he was beginning to hate black and white together. It was all around their little cantonment, because everything had to be spotless.

    God forbid a piece of stray dirt touches one of your computer terminals, lady. He'd been a lot more bitter a few years ago. He still didn't like the pressure that was put on everyone to keep the outdoors as shiny as a pre-war linoleum kitchen, but it was more routine now. At least it gave him something to focus on.

    Wheatley crested a short hill and squinted with his good eye; in a cluster of blackened scrub there was a flashing red light and faint movement. One of the turrets had its communication channel snapped that morning, much to the dismay of everyone in the communication hub at the camp. The pip-boy on his left wrist sung harmoniously, unfortunately to deaf ears. It was one of the few songs that the radio station had. The Aperture faction prided themselves on their ability to relay almost any radio signal and, in turn, eavesdrop on many other factions that were states and states away. 

    The radio-waves from New Vegas, other than the nuclear winter jokes, had proved to be a favorite of Rick, one of the synth scavengers; he was out picking the local vaults for ammunition and textiles with a few others. Wheatley's personal favorite was Diamond City radio and it's sister stations; he enjoyed the Silver Shroud radio show and some of the songs that Diamond City spat over from wherever Diamond City was. It was also a bit exciting to hear that a synth colony had also established itself in Maine; the Sole Survivor, whoever she was, had made a pilgrimage to Far harbor, where it was. Even Gladys liked Diamond City radio, and she hates the sound of anything that wasn't her own voice. His least favorite station was Galaxy News Radio; aside from the general association with space, which he didn't like in the slightest either, the host was atrocious, always howling into the microphone and saying the same headline for two weeks. 

    The radio, despite it's gentle buzz, was the last thing of Wheatley's mind at the moment. "Of course I have to wade through a fleeting blizzard; good old me with half of my face torn off. The least they could do is be honest about it! None of that 'you're the strongest, Wheatley, you could swing the head off of a yao guai, Wheatley'." he grumbled to himself, the synthetic equivalent of a headache budding in his forehead. If he'd thought about it, he probably would have realized that yakking to himself against the grain of the falling snow would likely quicken the thing that he was hoping would not happen.

    He closed in on the turret and the mechanic who was already there, but neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor close proximity to another synth would stop his angered yammering. "Why send me? Why not someone with more skin left on their bodies that can cover their endoskeletons, or why not someone with two working eyes? God's sake.”

    If the person at the turret heard him speaking, they didn't make it known.

    A few brittle twigs snapped beneath his boots as he blinked the snow out of his eyes, the melting flakes stinging and running down his cheeks. "Gonna have to get cleaned and clocked when I get back. 'Your feet are big enough not to sink when you hit the snow, Wheatley'- We are all wearing snow boots and we have lived in this damn basin for years, you can walk through some bloody snow!" He raised his voice a bit louder than he intended, and a rad-rabbit darted out from its place in the underbrush a few feet away.

    When he heard the turret's aiming mechanism, he froze in place. "Who's there?"

    I don't personally know if you've ever had an automaton point a gun at you while asking for identification, but it is one of the most heart-bottoming experiences one can ever encounter. It's similar to climbing a staircase and thinking that there's one more stair than there actually is, only the danger is being plugged full of bullets and dying without anyone knowing rather than stumbling and bruising your knee.

    "Uh, I… It-it's model 54M, Wheatley." He managed to choke out, watching the little red iris contract in his direction. At least, that's what he thought it was doing.

    "Oh, it's you." No doubt, it was Her voice. The idle and contemptuous tone was always present no matter who She spoke to, so he didn't pay it any heed. It was the voice itself that made him shake in his casing; rarely did She ever raise it, which he was thankful for, but the way it sounded anyway was enough to freeze a molten reactor.

    Gladys, who had been fiddling around in the back panel of the turret, poked Her head out. She looked bored, as usual, Her mostly white Kevlar uniform and silvery hair blending with the flurried landscape about them. The one optic that was not currently obscured glowed a pale goldenrod, and then was gone as She jerked Her head; a signal for him to come over.

    Eyeing the turret warily, Wheatley clutched his bat as he made his way over; with ever step past the hill, the snow had seemed to get deeper, sucking at his boots and sticking to his clothes. It seemed to blink at him in confusion, but the turret said no more once he was around its field of vision. Once he got behind the turret, he found that Gladys had scraped away the snow from around its base and put a minimalistic tool kit beside Herself. He twiddled with his fingers before deciding to just sit and wait for Her to tell him something; best not to interfere with Her while She was working.

    Glancing into the back of the turret's case, even he could see the problem; a few of the wires had been iced over, and when the ice melted, they fried the controls on that side, which just so happened to be the side that housed the signal wires. 

    The radio had switched again, and now that he was sitting down and not complaining to the wilderness, he heard that it was one of the many songs about atom bombs. This one, like many of them, was an allegory for something a lot less radioactive but just as jarring. Wheatley's already clenched jaw tightened, and his broken eye sparked; it always did when he was nervous. 

     "Atom bomb baby, I love her so 

    Nothin' else like her anywhere ya go, 

    Man she's anything but calm, 

    A regular pint-sized atom bomb" 

     Even if She made no motion to indicate that She didn't like the song, Wheatley could still feel it as strongly as if She was staring him down. Much to his utter horror, he had jokingly called Her, what else, a 'regular pint-sized atom bomb' one day. Of course, that was a month or so ago and he had meant it in the least aggressive way possible, but if you were to cut a piece of cake a little too hard, Gladys would take it personally.

    Having someone gesture toward you violently is already frightening, but having someone who is angry at you and known for holding grudges make any movement whatsoever at you is twice as scary. You can imagine how far back Wheatley jumped when Gladys casually clocked her arm back towards him quite suddenly.

    When he sat back up and hurriedly brushed himself free of snow, he found that She had cocked her head at him, Her lips pursed and Her usual bored expression worn on Her face. The soft gold light of Her eyes filtered through the windblown strings of Her hair and pierced through him like a bit of molten steel. "The pip-boy."

    Stunned, it took a moment to register, but eventually, he got the gist. He stretched out his left arm and scooted a bit closer, not daring to look Her in the eye again.

    Gladys went on with Her duties as though the machine She was operating was not attached to a synth powerhouse with the backbone of a gummy worm. Judging by the clicks and shuffles, She was shifting through the upgrade programs and his inventory, taking some stuff out, repairing the turret, all that jazz. Much to his surprise, She did not turn off the radio, or switch the station.

    It took Her no time at all; She'd built the machines, he'd be surprised if it did. Once She was through, she rewired the turret and closed its back. Wheatley only pulled his hand back when Gladys pushed it away as She gathered up her tools and he awkwardly clambered up after Her. Sparing Her another glance, it was always a bit disconcerting how small She was compared to him. Then again, She had more than enough attitude to make up for Her lack of stature. Napoleon complex, you know. The synths had snickered to each other before, most of them now tossed to the scrappers.

    As She began walking briskly away into the blizzard and back toward their camp without so much as a brief glance over Her shoulder, Wheatley picked up his bat and bolted after Her. Furrowing his brow, he was going to ask what exactly She had told him to come out here for, but found himself unable. He tried to open his jaw, only to realize that talking to yourself with half of your face gone let snow get inside of your jaw quite easily. A dull panic was beginning to nag at him as they walked through the snow, and hedging his bets was the last thing on his mind at the moment; he lunged forward with his left arm, radio blasting, and grabbed at Her shoulder. As if he'd touched a hot plate, he yanked it away and stepped back a bit, eye sparking away.

    When Gladys turned around, he was greatly relieved that She did not look as though She was about to vaporize him. She raised one of Her eyebrows and stopped. "What?"

    Wheatley made a noise that was usually reserved for more questionable activities and pointed at his mouth. He peeled back his lips and tried to pry his teeth apart, the ice on his jaw only creaking in response. Searching Her face for anything other than bemusement, he was at least a little bit surprised when She took out a rag from one of Her many pockets and walked toward him.

    "Try breathing on it." She said slyly, and before Wheatley even had time to realize that it was a joke, started rubbing at the exposed hinge with the rag. He bent down a bit, finding it hard not to look Her in the eye with Her face so close to his. It was like watching a grizzly bear be afraid of the tiny-but-vicious owl that was picking at its teeth; in other words, absolutely ridiculous.

    Had he been able to speak, Wheatley would have asked how exactly rubbing a dry rag against ice was going to break it off, but since he wasn't, he didn't. Much to his surprise, the ice was beginning to chip out; it was bouncing back down his throat and hitting his teeth as it did.

    "Open up a bit," Gladys commanded; Wheatley gladly complied. It was a bit uncomfortable to have the rag be shoved through a hole in the side of his face and angled around to the inner jaw, but as it touched his tongue, he realized why it was melting the ice away; it was a salt rag. That must have been how she de-iced the turret's casing.

    She drew her hand back and crossed Her arms over Her chest, one of her eyebrows raised. It always seemed to be stuck there, at least to Wheatley. "I never thought I'd say this," She mumbled to Herself, "But talk."

    "Ain't that a kick in the head." It went along with the radio, and Wheatley didn't know what else to say. One it left his mouth, along with a few more ice shards, he slowly broke out into a grin and felt at the joint with his fingers.

    Much to his surprise and delight, Gladys turned around quickly while She tucked away the salt rag into its designated pocket; he'd seen a smile. Just a little one, barely upturning the corners of Her mouth, but it was there. It was a rare sight, and sporadic at that, but it was always a welcome one.

    "What'd you need me out here for anyway, love?" He chattered, the note in his voice remarkably more giddy than he meant it to be.

    Gladys had begun trudging back toward their camp with Her free hand in Her pocket. "I wasn't sure if I'd need you to carry it back to the repair shop." She replied simply, Her voice almost musical in tone. It always was, though usually overshadowed by the strict attitude and piercing gold eyes.

    "Oh!" Wheatley said, then faltered a bit as he tried to keep up. For someone who could be swallowed up by snow, She moved pretty fast. "Ah, well, I'm glad I could be of... little to no assistance."

    She snorted softly, and for a moment he could have sworn that he saw her look back, but that could have been the snow. "I knew giving you that pip-boy would prove advantageous sooner or later. I just didn't expect it to be for repairing turrets."

    "Better then nothing, eh?" He said, almost elbowing Her jovially but holding himself back. He didn't know why this had put a pep in his step, really, but it had. They walked in silence for a few minutes, Wheatley stealing the occasional sideways glance at her while the radio pumped on and on. Through the howling wind and shaking black trees, they spotted the camp and its many lights. If it weren't for the lights, it would have been lost to the white storm.

    "You know you're the only synth I gave a pip-boy to, right?" Gladys said suddenly, this time actually turning to face him.        He nodded and grinned softly. "Yes! Uh, why? You don't need it, do you?" Suddenly, his mind went to the thousand different bad reasons that She would need such a device. "Did you get knocked around a bit and your reticle program's malfunctioning? Or maybe you just need to adjust your carry-weight? Or-"

   Gladys wasted no time in raising a gloved finger to Her own lips and waiting for his motor-mouth to quit. He got the picture and began to shuffle through the snow a bit quicker; if his face could get red, it would have been. She slyly followed behind, watching him hunch over like he always did when he got embarrassed. Even when he tried to make himself tiny, he would always be a hulking scratched-up synth with a barbed-wire baseball bat, but it was amusing to see him try.

    She broke the silence, pleased with Herself. "I gave it to you because I trusted you with it. And seeing as how it isn't broken yet, it seemed my trust was at least placed half-way decently." And she kept walking.        Wheatley, not wanting to think about it but finding it creeping back into his mind, as well as a grin onto his face, followed her toward the cantonment. 

[mable-stitchpunk]

FNAF-TOBER Prompt- 12: You Forgot Your Costume

Unlike what was believed, the animatronics did receive routine cleanings. There were different degrees of this with the more thorough cleanings much more rare. Commonly, animatronics would be sprayed down with a powerful disinfectant and have anything unsightly squirted with a little cleaner and rubbed down. When they got too filthy to have this matter, their suits would be removed and dry cleaned. Normally, this process took a few hours.

Unfortunately, everything was a little more difficult with Foxy. Foxy purposefully acted up during repairs, sometimes outright leaving his stage and hiding when he knew it was coming, and the damage to his suit meant it was more difficult to clean. Eventually it got to the point that the workers threw their hands in the air, cornered him during the earlier hours on the weekend, and removed his suit. 

Since Foxy’s suit was in such disrepair, it seemed like a waste to just dry clean and send it back cleaned and tattered. Instead, they sent the suit out for repairs, cleaning, the whole nine yards. Something that would take longer than one day. Which would mean that Foxy wouldn’t have his suit all night.

Which wouldn’t be a problem if the other animatronics’ programming meant that none of the other could recognize him. No matter how much he snarled and yelled, they saw a suit-less endoskeleton.

And he was very aware of what they did to endoskeletons.

Foxy barged into the kitchen and looked around frantically for a hiding spot in the dark. The closest thing he could find was the kitchen island and he scrambled behind it. His whole body felt so flimsy and small, leaving him feeling even more defensive, but he hoped it would also make him less visible.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make him any more quiet, and it wasn’t long before the kitchen door was pushed back open.

“Aww, come out little guy! It’s okay, we don’t want to hurt you. We just want to get you in a nice, warm suit,” Chica cooed. 

Though as sweet as she sounded, he knew what that ‘nice, warm suit’ entailed. It involved all three of them forcing him into a spare Bonnie or Freddy suit, bending his ears, probably breaking his hook- it would be a nightmare.

Unfortunately, his pitiful hiding spot was soon found out. “There you are!”

“Ya come even a step closer, Lass, and I’ll capsize this here island and barge right through ya!” Foxy threatened. “Ye better bet yer beak I’ll do it!”

“Aww...” Chica cooed, completely unable to make sense of Foxy’s words beyond panicked garbling. She turned back to Bonnie in the doorway. “I think he’s shy.” Foxy groaned, metal clanking as his head dropped into his hand. “I’ll get him out!”

No, she wouldn’t. The moment she started to close in, Foxy reacted exactly how he had threatened. He threw the kitchen island over into Chica, sprung over it, and made a sprint for the door that Bonnie was standing outside of. Foxy might’ve lost his sturdiness without his suit, but he was faster than ever, and slid right between Bonnie and the door.

Right into Freddy Fazbear, who tried to trap him in a literal bear hug. Foxy swung out and wound up hitting him directly in the nose with a loud squeak. This staggered Freddy long enough to let Foxy get by and sprint down the hallway. Just a touch faster, just a touch harder to see through the camera, running down a hallway he didn’t typically enter. 

Foxy was running for his life- or for his skin- and all he could think of was getting away from his band, which was currently hunting him like a common crook. 

How tonight was the night that he skirted under the office door and got inside was beyond him, but it had to be some sort of cruel, universal joke, because even with the door slamming shut behind him, blocking the other animatronics from reaching him, he was forced to come face to face with the security guard.

Of course it would be Schmidt.

The man looked absolutely floored as he stared at the endoskeleton from his office chair. Eventually he found his voice. “What the-?!”

“Ya open that door and I be pluckin’ out yer eye!” Foxy snarled as he pointed his hook threateningly. The hook being pretty much the only thing differentiating him as Foxy. 

Normally, no animatronic would dare speak around a human, but Foxy didn’t consider someone as persistent and irritating as Schmidt to be human. Maybe that’s why his reaction was equally blunt.

“What the hell happened to you?!” he asked. He then realized the other elephant in the room and added, “And exactly how long has this intelligent speech thing been going on?” 

“Don’t even start with that, Schmidt. Yer not wantin’ to go down that rabbit hole,” Foxy firmly dismissed. He then slowly slid up to peer out the window, seeing Bonnie coming. “They be lookin’ fer me tonight. Ya can’t let ‘em in.”

“Because I routinely let Freddy walk through my office,” Mike said sarcastically as he checked the monitors. Then his head snapped over. “Wait a second! You can talk and think like people, and still you and those three overgrown beanie babies have been trying to break in here and kill me?!”

“I ain’t tryin’ to kill ya!... Err, they be tryin’ to kill you. I just be lookin’ to knock that bilge-sucking smirk off yer face.”

“Oh, okay. That clear it up. Totally doesn’t make me want to give the good captain the heave-ho out the side door,” Mike said flatly. His eyes raised to the window as he heard the footsteps outside. He knew it was Bonnie, so he didn’t waste the power to turn the light on. 

He then looked down at Foxy, who was looking rather pathetic, huddled under the window emaciated and on edge. He always had a hunch that Foxy was purposefully messing with him, but now that he knew he genuinely was Mike wasn’t sure what to think. Though he was becoming increasingly curious. He sighed and made his decision. 

“Tell you what, Foxy. You can stay in here until whatever that is blows over. Or at least until I’m off the clock. But here’s the deal-.” Foxy knew there was going to be a catch of some kind, and he was totally unsurprised by what it was. “You’ve got to tell me what’s going on here. And I don’t mean why you’re streaking through the pizzeria- I mean why you’re alive.”

Foxy knew someone as stubborn as ‘Schmidt’ wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, he gave a defeated huff of static and, after hearing Bonnie wandering off, turned back to the security guard. 

“Ya got yerself a deal, but don’t say Cap’n Foxy didn’t warn ya...”

What a night to get exposed.

[rottenmask]

devilwaiting‌:

☆ ┊ ╱╱  —   Henry   seemed   to   just   stare   at   William   ,   he   had   remembered   the   old   times   ,   before   it   all   went   to   shit   .   He   was   completely   frozen   .   “   Can’t   we   just   sit   down   and   talk   like   we   used   to   or   are   you   too   stubborn   for   that   ?   ”   The   mention   of   his   children   cause   a   sudden   burst   of   emotion   to   swirl   up   although   he   kept   it   down   it   showed   in   his   eyes   how   much   this   hurt   him   .

“   Did   our   friendship   mean   anything   to   you   .   .   .   ”    He   knew   he   was   outmatched   why   they   had   made   the   suit   he   was   in   so   tall   was   beyond   him   he   knew   this   was   a   battle   already   lost   but   he   had   to   try   .

☠ — William’s memories are fuzzy, considering how his brain is probably a layer of dust in his skull cavity, but he can remember Henry, if only in part. Mostly blurry instances of them working on animatronics at Fredbear’s and Freddy’s, and vague flashes of them surrounded by children... possibly their children? 

He wasn’t sure. Maybe they’d had something close to a legitimate friendship once, but it didn’t matter anymore. All those moments were gone now, and there was no way of getting any of it back. His eyes dimmed for a moment as the hazy memories played out in his head, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared, eyes brightening back at to their glowing grey, 

“ There’s nothing to bloody talk about. “ he stated, a sick kind of satisfaction pulsing through his endoskeleton at the hurt that was visible in Henry’s eyes. His jaw shifts, a very clear and smug kind of grin on his decayed face, 

“ Who knows? The fact you actually believed whatever rubbish I gave you says something about you, don’t you think? “ he asked, grip on Henry’s shoulders tightening as he leaned in close. The stench of rot and mildew overwhelming as he tilted his head slightly, 

“ One has to wonder what possessed you to trust someone like me. “