#idunno just fun

[blu3b3rryj4mp1r3]

rarity n chocolate chipper cuz drawing g3 ponies is really fun! ^_^

[mewnia]

I’ve designed a Pascal! She was suuuper tricky in terms of color scheme. Her original design/description cannot settle on a single color, so I went based on personality! She’s bubbly and optimistic, with some strings attaching her to Sophie. So I thought yellow would be perfect :3

This is a personal exercise I’m doing for myself where I’m redesigning the Tales of Graces characters to see what parts of my own style shine. And it’s fun! Why Graces? Ehh I wasn’t always too attached to their designs so it’s easier for me to separate their original looks than, say, Vesperia. THESE ARE NOT FIXES!!

Asbel Sophie Cheria

[weisscoldglare]

[namelessprince]

drew my ocs as riptide characters :3

[spareham]

have never ... in my memory ... been This Into a show that is currently airing . i realized it's going to come out over Months of next year and got kind of scared like ... how am i gonna get anything done

[toss-for-me-boy]

curing my boredom one very poorly drawn stepswitcher at a time

[realjem-art]

yuup its kitty time!!!!!!!!

messin with this one's design a bit again :3 still figuring out the clothes and colors and whatnot

[realjem]

me circa early 2021: yeah so i made some characters but im not gonna make em tragic or anything! i dont get why everyone talks about torturing their ocs all the time lol

me now: ouuh... i thuink i gave her depression

[jadenvargen]

If I want to study someone's art or style, how do I do that? Like where do you even start when looking at an illustration that they made 😭thank you!!!

Here’s stuff i think about. i don’t do that many style studies, so idunno how helpful it is! pls sound in tha comments if anyone has tips:) 

Pinpoint what stuff you like, and focus on that. Focus on technique rather than exact replication, for example ( just first thing comes to mind) if you like rostov’s disco elysium cover art and want to study it, don’t just repaint the image, find what’s key in the style. looseness, maybe? then, instead of copying the image with your technique, try to apply the same looseness. (feat. shitty 5 min sketch plz dont judge example of how i normally approax paintings, versus a study. ALSO not to say u CANT do this it's just how i would study, myself. )

That being said, don’t force yourself to make art decisions that feel unnatural to you. a lot of the time artists make decisions based on their weaknesses as well as strengths. I do very shaky, hatchy lineart because my hands are very shaky. I focus on painting what I* feel is important and fun. 

Instead of copying a style from a picture, look at a variety of pictures and find technique. For example a lot of people redrawing a screenshot in “sailor moon style” or “ghibli style” will draw… let’s say, an old man, looking like a usagi because that’s the screenshot they looked at, instead of watching what stylistic choices for example takeuchi made when stylizing an old man. So the “studies” end up homogenous. I personally find it unproductive to replicate a painting for purposes of study, but like focusing on individual elements. say you like egon schiele, replicating whole paintings at a time IMO isn't gonna do much, but maybe you can set out on a series where you sketch copy his hands or feet from different paintings, and then try stylizing your own hands the same way? Or maybe your fave artist draws moonlight like a blue stream, or a red one? Try applying only that light to your paintings.

You could also color pick or look at the colors they make and paint whatever you want with those same colors, to understand how they work together and what can be done with them.

Also, if you can, look at their influences! Everyone learns art by seeing others art. Chances are they saw art they liked and picked from there what elements they enjoyed. Looking at the inspiration can help make some of the techniques more obvious.

Basically focus less on copying(not that copying is bad- but not always helpful for studying), and more on what you like. If you find what you like, you can work from there and try to think about your own art from the same perspective.

IDK if this helps as i said, feel free to add onto^_^

[candlezofficial]

a remake of my previous work that i hate lol

greasers of the media (added more characters) because i might have a thing for this hairstyle idunno xd

Shiv (Deadlock) - didn't play the game so i have no idea who he is lol

Free (Beastars) - saw beastars on yt in form of random clips and kinda liked the guy (well. lion)

Lewis (MysterySkulls) - discovered him via the animated song 'ghost' (still a banger to this day)

Scout (TeamFortress 2) - i played tf2 multiple times in the past. technically scout isn't a greaser because he's from boston but i wanted to include him just for fun :>

Jouske (JJBA) - never watched the anime but i know it thanks to memes lol

Dandy (Space Dandy) - didn't watch this anime either but someday might give it a watch ngl

Mondo (Danganronpa) - and didn't saw this anime too (i'm not an anime person tbh)

JawBone (Monkey Wrench) - this has to be the coolest skeleton i've ever seen in media

Pompamoto (Overwatch 2) - do i need to say anything?

TheKing Mancubus (DOOM Eternal) - i played doom (the first one) once as a kid only to never play it again because i kept dying and got too frustrated by it

[anomaly-076]

You're immediately able to tell who the letter is from, judging by the apparent fight its creator had to put up to keep it from being eaten by some animal:

'Dearest Y/N, as you know, I'm a very busy ghoul. But I'd like to spend more time with you! Maybe if you'd like, you could come over to Jabberwock and help me with the upkeep of some animals? We could go to Rui's bar after that. P.S. I'll let you pet all the animals, as long as they don't bite your hand off. - Haru ♥

Seeing Haru outside of his work is rare, so it doesn't surprise you, that even for your time together, he'll try to mesh work and relationships. To be fair, you're not complaining. All those adorable critters seem to love you as much as you love them.

Just to make sure, you pack extra change of clothes with you and some sandwiches, should you need. The amount of times Haru admitted he hasn't eaten that day, makes you wonder how he manages to even function on the daily.

To shorten the walk from your dorm to Jabberwock, in your mind you create a list of animals you absolutely want to pet, even if Haru might try to stop you.

Upon entering, Jabberwock grounds seem livelier than usual. The flowers growing in the fields bloom bigger and smell even better than before and some of the clouds in the sky are in shape of hearts. Must be Towa having fun with the weather again.

"Ah! Y/N! Over here!" Haru drops a bag of whatever animal feed it is and sprints at a normal pace towards you.

"Hi! I'm here!" you smile and hug the ghoul once he's close enough to you.

"And even at the right time! I was just about to go feed the little guys that always swarm me before I even get to get their bowls." he smiles back and moves a stray piece hair out of you face, that you didn't even know was there.

Suddenly, a low chittering growl sounds off from your feet and you both look down to see the very same fox that Haru tries to stop you from petting every time. It has a flower in its mouth and is looking up at you expectantly.

Despite Haru's attempt to stop you this time again, you squat down and take the flower out of its mouth, "Aw, for me? Thanks little buddy!"

As your hands move to pet it, Haru tries to stop you again, but the fox doesn't attack. Instead it leans into your touch and starts laughing while waggling its tail.

"Th-that's... The first time it's let anyone do that!" Haru gasps out and ushers you to get back up.

"Idunno... Maybe it's establishing dominance by trying to steal my heart away..." you ponder and mention to the fox that now curled up to your foot.

"Ah? Ghyahaha! I wouldn't worry about that. Afterall, I did promise you I'd take you to Rui's bar after we're done..." the ghoul mischievously winks at you.

[sol-rambles]

Okay its really late but I wanna say words about zam with bacon today.

First off, taking bacon up to the closet to tell him about "the demon in his closet." Which one he has each time called the demon in his closet or his evil self, yet as we know.. Its joker zam. Since well, that's why he made it a closet.

Secondly, talking to bacon about how joker zam gets closer to taking over him with every death (explosion) , when he gets super annoyed/frustrated (shulker farm) , someone infuriates him (pangi singing) or just sleeping in the bed. The last one he points out every time he goes asleep in that bedroom. But right after that, he fucking goes up to the room and sleeps in the bed.

Afterwards zam tells bacon about how he was after seeing joker zam in his dreams and he had a conversation with him, before asking if bacon heard him screaming 'Cause he was 'screaming really loudly', which, well he didn't make a sound until he woke up. Literally not one throughout the whole sleep time.

But now, the interesting part... When zam comes back downstairs to the villager room with bacon, he keeps being ontop of bacon and is speaking a little stranger than before. He's seemingly much more for killing people and is now soley held back by his oath (to himself) not to kill people. He begins asking bacon, each time coming right up to his face, or right behind him if he would mind/liked if he killed someone.

Okay finally why I made this post. He LITERALLY does a joker zam thing. Talking about a peice of his skin, and taking off all his armour. Specifically the metal arm, which btw used to be the bloodied one. Something I noticed like day one and for some reason was like, "I dont need to point that out!"

as shown, right after speaking about the metal arm, armourless. (He does quickly put his armour back on, hes not 20hearts or invincible.) But goes right back into bacon's space to ask him if he should kill people. A question bacon has continuously said yes to, aslong as its not him.

-=-

Also, this is kinda separate and may be unrelated but he seems rather against bringing up any other seasons other than s6 if its not an incredibly vague reference.

BACON: "I feel like you've made oaths to yourself and broken them before."

ZAM: "like what, name one."

BACON: "Idunno, I'm just saying probably happened."

ZAM: "I can name one, I wont."

I feel like this is pointing towards s4 exploits and zam is saying he broke an 'oath' with himself to not exploit. And how he broke it by joining spoke in the end of the season.

Another time in this conversation with a s4 mention, someone in bacon's chat says that all zam's valuables are in his echest. To which zam replies "cause the best vault is an enderchest, right?" Which was quite commonly said in s4 in regards to where people (mainly spoke) kept their exploited goods. Or where alot of the duped goods from team awesome were stored.

Okay I'm not done analysing yet but I need to sleep its really fucking late expect more in the morning. This was alot of fun to do.

[weisscoldglare]

Taste

Optionally

[superstar-nan]

Execute Command

Night 1

Summary: You're an engineer, and your best friend who works as an overnight security guard for Fazbear's Fright calls you asking for a favor. Now there's a giant rotting bunny animatronic in your home, and you need to fix him by Friday.

Words: 5,062

Fun stuff: Springtrap POV, Springtrap/Reader (but really William/Reader/Spring Bonnie─Willaim and Spring Bonnie are treated like seperate creatures), gender neutral reader, cannon typical violence, slow burn, William is a monster and insane but Spring Bonnie is just a robot, the way Spring Bonnie acts is based on this post. Dark fic. Uploaded from my Ao3.

Technically an AU of my fic Fight Tooth and Nail where the reader's best friend doesn't die, but it can be read as a stand alone.

───── (\ /) ─────

I was locked in darkness so long that sunlight burned me. 

The sunlight that poked through my crate, taunting and painful, was the only indication of where I was.

“Yeah, I mean—I guess you can set it over there.”

“You don’t got a... workshop er somethin’ we can drop this thing off at?” 

“Does this place look big enough for a workshop?”

There was silence.

“No. I don’t. Just set it in the living room.”

“You got it, boss.”

My crate was lifted and pushed. The movement alone tore into me like knives, springlocks pulling against flesh that could somehow still feel pain. I was used to it.

I was set down with a resounding THUD. Pain shocked through me and I saw red.

I’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthem-

“I’m not your boss. I’m just doing a friend a favor.”

Sunlight still burned tantalizingly against my framework. My whole body itched from it. 

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“‘S quite a favor. This thing... it's a piece ‘a work.”

“Mmm. Don’t excite me. When’s the attraction open anyway?”

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“‘bout a week.”

“A week? Am I going to have enough time to fix him?”

> EXECUTE([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“Idunno. You're the technician.”

“...Alright. I’ll call if there’s any problems. Oh, and could you move it out of the sunlight? I don’t want the heat degrading the machinery.”

“Sure.”

I was pushed, the crate dragging across the floor with a whining shriek. I was out of the sunlight, but my skin still itched. 

The door closed. It was silent. Muted footsteps slowly approached me. One set of footsteps. There was only one. No witnesses.

 > Override command = [STORAGE PROTOCOL]

error

failed to execute command

It was worth a shot.

Something wedged into the crate, cracking and snapping the wood. Then, the other side of the crate. The crate’s lid fell slowly, like a tree falling to an axe. It hit the ground with a loud THUD .

There you were. Sunlight framed your silhouette, too bright in my darkness. You were smaller than me—and of course you were, there wasn’t a human alive the size of an animatronic. You were coughing and waving at the dust I brought. When you came to your senses, your eyes widened. You instinctively drew back—and that made me desperately want to pursue. It wasn’t a new reaction. Everyone knew to be afraid of me. That was my one balm to that fucking ‘storage protocol’.

You drew closer, tentative with a knot in your brow. How strange, that you would draw closer when you were so clearly terrified. You didn’t have to say it, I knew what you were thinking, but you said it anyway, “What happened to you?”

I wanted to laugh, bitter and spiteful. The pain gnawed at me until it was numbing. I had to tear my flesh apart anytime I wanted to so much as lift a finger. My lungs wanted to fill with air when they were filled with holes, my heart wanted to beat when my veins were sealed with rust. My head rang with a never ending migraine from the rods piercing through my skull . Every light, every sound, every stimulation was too goddamn bright . A lot happened to me.

You extended your hand as if you wanted to touch me. You were slow . Achingly slow. Tauntingly slow. I knew why you were slow. You thought I would bite. I would.

As if snapping back to reality, you shook your head and pulled back. Tease . You hoisted up the crate’s lid and pressed it back into place with your full body, enclosing me in semi-darkness once again. Your subtle footsteps left the room. After you were far enough away, a door opened and then shut loudly. You left. You left me alone.

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

Being alone was terrible terrible white noise. It grated like sandpaper against my skull , slowly and gradually wearing at my mind. I was back in that room— blind in the shadows, walls swallowing me whole, twitching in pain that never stopped, nothing for decades —but waiting in this toybox was child’s play. You would return. You would come to fix me.

And I would kill you.

Light surrendered to darkness while in the static of my cage. I had a shallow grasp of time after spending so much of it in the safe room . Had it been hours? Minutes? Days? Seconds? Weeks? It felt like all of that and more and less and like the static was consuming my brain like maggots , but also it had probably been hours since it was dark now.

The instant I heard the sound of the door open and close, the static was gone.

Artificial light dazed me in its suddenness, bringing a throbbing headache to match all the springlocks in my skull.

I could hear you moving around; setting down things, ruffling through belongings. You came back at night . 

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

It wasn’t midnight yet, but it was close . I could taste it . I could taste your blood . I only had to wait.

You wedged a crowbar in my cage.

You were going to release me now? You were making it easy for me.

The door to my crate crashed to the floor. You inhaled sharply when you saw me again, as if you had forgotten how horrific I was. You swallowed your fear, but I knew it was still there no matter how brave you pretended to be. You were wearing blue disposable gloves and a jacket .

Would you cry? Would you scream? Would you cower in front of me or would you try to fight back? Anticipation sent electricity through me, and I would’ve shuddered if my body functioned correctly. As easy (and gratifying) as it would be to rip your head off your shoulders the moment midnight struck, making it last would be so much more satisfying .

I enjoyed playing with the night guard, they were so easily frightened. But they called for help too quickly. The fact that they were still alive was so annoying. It gnawed at me, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I wouldn’t let that happen again.

By six tomorrow morning, I’ll have painted the floor with your guts.

You bit your lip before offering a pathetic smile, “Hi, Bonnie. I’m going to, uhm...” You let out a shaky sigh as your eyes quaked, scrolling me from top to bottom, “... Damn , I should’ve done this during the day.”

You really should have.

You took a step closer to me, and my flesh itched to grab you. Your hand reached for me slowly, but you backed away, unsure. You tried again, but retreated again . “How am I going to...” You brought your nervous eyes back to mine, and then something hardened in them— resolve . I didn’t care for resolve in my victim’s eyes. “Fuck it.” 

You grabbed me. Full-body, arms wrapped around my decaying waist. Pain, feeling, electricity, pain, sensation, stimulation, PAIN —shocked through me like lightning . It was too much, it burned me, it was white and hot and I would tear the bones from your flesh and make you watch me break them. When you let go of me, it was too cold. Static consumed me in a moment. I needed you to grab me again, because while stimulation made me irrational and violent , I hated the static more.

“Damn it,” The noise was gone the moment you spoke. You held your nose with the back of your sleeve, “There’s no way I’m getting this smell out...”

I was on a couch. You moved me. I was in a living room—your living room. Your kitchen was just beyond a pony wall. You had tools laid out haphazardly in a way that reminded me of Henry.

You turned toward your tools, fingering through them with delicate precision, “Sorry about the, uhm, ‘ accomodations ’,” You were supposedly talking to me, but you were truly talking to yourself. It was pathetic. “Who has the money for a workshop in this economy?”

While you were looking for the right tool, I was scanning your measly home. There . A Clock. 11:57 .

You picked up the tool you wanted and turned to me. “I must admit, as... terrifying as you are to look at, you are an intriguing mystery.” Your gloved fingers came to my chin, and the sensation wasn’t as burning now that you weren’t grabbing me with your whole body. The softness of your fingers was dizzying, and the pain was lost to the sensation of gentle touch. I could feel my mind glaze over as you tilted my head to the side, “You don’t mind, do you?”

Then, you jammed your screwdriver into the side of my jaw.

With each twist of your tool, I imagined twisting your limbs out of place. Your voice came in a breathy whisper, “I can’t wait to crack you open and see what’s inside...” The feeling was mutual. 

Your twisting started to slow. Your brow furrowed. You lifted my jaw with your palm, squinting as you tried to peer past my teeth. You were so so close to my teeth. All it would take was one bite. 

My eyes flicked to the clock. 11:58 . 

“...What the hell?” You noticed something beyond my mask. You started to unscrew the other side of my jaw. You peeled through rust, metal, and stiff flesh, pulling my jaw down to see what was inside. Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back from me, your sleeve coming to your mouth. Fear and disgust dripped from you like sugar on a candied apple just out of my reach. You gagged as you rose to your feet, feeling your way into the kitchen.

You collapsed against the sink in the kitchen, just barely in my sight. You slowed your breathing, snapping off your blue gloves. You picked up something small and thin that glowed in your hand.

My eyes flicked to the clock. 11:59.

 You held the object in your hand to your ear. Then, you started talking, “There’s a corpse in it.”

There was silence.

“Yes yes, hi, how are you, there’s a corpse in it! ”

Silence again. The object in your hand must’ve been a phone.

You put a palm to your forehead, “ The bunny animatronic! There’s a body! Inside! The! Animatronic! ” A heavy exhale past your lips, “Well, I don’t know! Did someone put it there, for the haunted attraction or-?” 

11:59 had never passed so slowly before.

You dragged your hand down your face, “... Yes , I’m sure. No, no it isn’t fresh. It’s old. Really old. Look, I’ve been listening to the tapes, someone probably died in that thing. And-and I guess they just sealed it away instead of-?”

12:00.

> Execute([MOVE])

> executing command = [MOVE]

Finally.

My body ached with rust and calcified tendons as I stood. It resisted movement as if it knew it was wrong for me to move. I silently snapped my jaw back into place. I dragged my eyes to you. 

Your back was facing away from me, toward the counter, “Yeah, yeah I know! Look. I’m going to call the police.” My eyes flicked to the thin object in your hand. No, you wouldn’t. “At the very least, that’s going to delay the attraction a few days, and at the most... You might have to find a job somewhere else. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t-”

You turned around and froze. I was behind you. Your eyes slowly scrolled up to mine, wide in shock. I left enough room for you to run. I wanted you to run. Run. Run .

“...Actually, I’m not going to call the police.”

You didn’t run. You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You looked... excited.

... Disappointing.

In an attempt to scare you, I dropped my heavy arms onto your counter on either side of you, slamming against the smooth finish with a loud THUD . You flinched, but your lips turned up in an unconscious smile

“No, listen. It just moved ,” You said into your phone, and you couldn’t drag your eyes away from mine. “It moved! It works, after thirty years of rusting, it’s actually moving! I can’t get my toaster to last longer than five years, do you know how incredible that is?”

My head twitched, jerking to the side. You really reminded me of Henry.

Now that I was closer, I heard the faint sounds of someone talking from your thin phone. You rolled your eyes, “Honestly, I didn’t think he was actually moving on your shifts. I thought someone was trying to play a prank on you or something.”

Your hand came to my arm subconsciously as you talked, and my eyes snapped to it. You were touching me with your bare skin. Your bare skin on my rotting suit, but it felt like my flesh . It made me dizzy to feel someone. I couldn’t see anything but your fingers. You were just holding me, but it was all I could focus on. Warm flesh, soft skin, light touch —it drew breath I didn’t have; it sent electricity through my veins. I would sever your hand and glue it to my suit, but I couldn’t pull away from it to even cut you. All I could think was touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching-

“Don’t be mad!” You said with a laugh, and you drew idle circles on my arm that made my head spin. Literally. Gears sealed with rust beneath my suit spun for the first time in decades. It was grating and painful, but I wouldn’t dare trade it for you to stop. “The fact that the thing can actually move is a miracle . Wha- Of course , I’m being safe! It’s not hurting me, it’s just...” You tilted your head, looking at my eyes with nervous concern, “... Creepy...”

You pulled your hand away and it was freezing. My nails carved jagged slashes into your counter. You ducked under my arm and kept talking, “Let me work on him a little bit.” 

I felt heavy coming down from the high of your touch. My blunted, metal fingers wrapped around a knife you kept on your counter.

“Just for a little while, then I’ll call the police.”

My eyes trained on you—your back to me, completely unaware. I wondered if you’d still be excited if I cut pieces off of you?

“ Come on! Please? I just want to fix a few things. The rusting... His voicebox...”

I raised the knife above my head.

“The tapes mentioned something about a ‘storage protocol’ locking up the suit during the daytime? I bet I could fix that.”

I stopped.

“Oh, and he apparently follows noises. That’s probably why you kept seeing him move around at night. Maybe I could strip that from his programming, make something more useful for a horror attraction.” 

I slowly put the knife back on the counter, cushioning its handle with my fingertips to keep from making a noise.

“Hey, look at it this way, you’ll be able to keep your job? And when I bring him back to the attraction, he won’t scare you every night. And if I get a peek into the coding of this thing- Oh, relax! I’m not being-”

You turned around. I was inches away from you again.

“Whoa,” You swallowed. “Yeah, it just followed me again. It’s... so unnerving . Watch this thing be actually haunted.”

Yeah. Watch.

“Anyway, please don’t call the police,” You begged into the phone. “I only need one week, and then I’ll put him back together.”

You can put me back together. How... convenient. How unsatisfying , but convenient. I could be patient. If it meant being rid of the damned coding holding me back, I could be patient . 

A large smile stretched across your face once you got your answer from your friend, “Breakfast is on me tomorrow, okay? Thank you!” You tapped your phone and set it on the table. Then, you brought your eyes up to mine.

You were nervous. Your fingers shook when you looked at me, your body shifted from side to side, your eyes unable to break away from me as if I would strike if you did. I liked that you were nervous. You had good reason to be nervous. And then there was the keen interest in your eyes, hiding behind your visceral fear. The curiosity that would kill you. I liked that less.

You took a step to the side. Then, you stepped to the other side of me. You were testing to see if my eyes would follow you. You shivered when they did.

“Well, Bonnie. You’re mine,” You rubbed your arm as if there had been a sudden chill. “At least for the next week or so. Let’s put that time to good use, hmm?”

You rubbed your mouth and chin in contemplation. You took a few steps away from me, as if testing to see if I would follow. When I didn’t, you hummed in thought. You walked back into your living room.

“Come here, Bonnie!” You called, “Over here!”

... You were calling me like a dog?

error

command unclear

> execute command ([FOLLOW]) = Yes/No?

> No.

“Come on?” You exhaled. You looked around, before grabbing the newspaper lying on your coffee table. “ “Fazbear’s Fright: The Horror Attraction! Local amusement park is getting ready to scare your socks off with a new attraction based on the unsolved mysteries of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!” ” 

You looked up. I didn’t move.

“Fine,” You dropped the newspaper back down and trudged back towards me. You rolled up your sleeves, and said, “Let’s go.” The thought of you grabbing me with your whole body again sent a piercing ringing through my skull.

> execute command [HOLD_HANDS] 

My hand jutted forward without my own volition. Looks like he also loathed the overstimulation. You flinched back from my hand like a startled animal, your chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Your breath slowed as your shaking eyes pulled away from my palm and to my own. You put your hand in mine.

Your touch was sweet warmth and it thrilled my flesh and wires to feel . I engulfed your hand in mine, and I craved to squeeze it until your bones cracked and blood seeped between my knuckles. Not yet, though. This might be your dominant hand.

You took a step back, and I took a step forward. “Okay,” You said, “This works.” You walked backwards, keeping your eyes on me, and you didn’t know the thin line you were treading.

I followed you to your living room where you kept your tools. Your eyes were glued to me, and I thought you couldn’t look away because you were afraid of what might happen if you did. But your eyes weren’t shaking, they were steady. They were steady on my legs, my arms, my chest—you were fascinated with my movement. You were captivated by every step. I loathed it, and worse, I understood it. I remembered my fascination with them . Wretched rotten little beasts.

I twitched as you gently guided me to sit on your couch. You leaned closer to me, your brow furrowed in inquisition, “...How can you move?”

I mimicked your head tilt. I hoped to unnerve you, but a delighted smile spread across your face. 

“Charming,” You said. You started to sift through your tools again, picking through them like fruit. “You’ll have to bear with me,” You were talking to yourself again, feigning to me. “I’ve never worked with machinery this old before... You wouldn’t happen to have a USB port would you?” You laughed as if I had any idea what you were talking about. “I’ll have to do a bit of research tomorrow, but for now let’s ease some of that corrosion, hm?”

You set down two small canisters and a fiberglass cloth next to your lap. Your eyes briefly flitted to mine, before timidly staring at my body. You kept your head lowered as you held my wrist. You were deliberately avoiding my stare. That excited me. 

You gently tilted my wrist back and forth, testing the joints, but you were grinding the sensitive tendons and gears in a drumming pain that was both too piercing and too dull. When you were done with my wrist, you moved to my arm, my shoulder, my jaw; the pain of your flexion mixed with the pleasure of your touch traveling up my body. Your fingertips were hesitant checking my joints. Were you afraid of touching my flesh? I hoped you were.

You took one of the canisters and held its nozzle to my wrist joint, but you hesitated. Your eyes were drawn to mine, but you hastily returned your focus to the canister you were holding, reading its label. When my eyes followed yours, I saw what was on the label. Hydrochloric acid. “...Is this going to corrode the corpse...?” You asked yourself. 

error

command unclear

> execute command ([MOVE]) = Yes/No?

> YES.

“Whatever,” Before you could tip the canister, my hand shot to your wrist. A choked gasp escaped your lips. You froze. You stilled your breath. Your wrist shook ever so slightly under my grip, and oh how I loved that. You were terrified , and it was so sweet to the taste , I could drink it . I realized if you tried to run from me, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from killing you.

You didn’t run. You swallowed, eyes shaking as you studied me. You couldn’t hold my gaze for a fraction of a second before, and now you acted as if your life depended on keeping it. “That’s-... That’s one hell of a safeguard protocol...” You said through a trembling breath. Your skin looked so alive and flush against my rotting, soiled fursuit.

I had never been good at resisting my impulses.

> Execute([SQUEEZE])

> executing command = [SQUEEZE]

Warm flesh and bone pressed under my grip, and panic seized you. I drank how your eyes flashed through shock, then stupor, then horror. I was slow. I wanted to savor it. You instinctually clawed at my wrist with your free hand. You dropped the canister, “ Wait! Stop, stop, don’t-!” 

I relished the sharp inhale that passed your lips when I abruptly dropped you. You held your wrist tenderly, massaging the bruise and leaning away from me with wide, uncertain eyes. I would have laughed if it were possible. You swallowed and slowly inched your hand down toward the discarded canister. My fingers twitched at the possibility of scaring you again, but you noticed. Like an animal being trained, you returned your hand.

“Okay. No rust remover.” You said slowly, as if the words tasted strange on your tongue. You held up the other canister, turning the label toward me. “Is oil okay?”

You watched me with dreadful anticipation, but I didn’t make any move to respond to you. You swallowed and slowly moved the oil to my wrist. Your body was tense, ready to jump back if I moved. That wouldn’t do you any good. I was faster than you. I was tempted to show you that, but... adding lubricant to my joints could make moving less of an excruciating hell. Even just the idea of a little relief from the pain was enough to temper my impulses.

Your brow furrowed as your eyes trained on me. “You... can tell the difference...?” The words past your lips in a doubtful whisper. You couldn’t believe it, and how amusing it was that you were made to. I wondered how long it would take you to figure out that it wasn’t genius coding hurting you; how complex my actions could get before you realized there was a conscious being ruling them. I could play pretend. It wouldn’t be my first time.

The prospect of ‘playing pretend’ sent tingling electricity through me, though I wasn’t sure it was me . Spring Bonnie loved to play games. I didn’t know that until he killed me.

Despite your doubts, you poured cool, thick oil over my joints. You used the soft cloth to smear it over my dull, rotting machinery. I wished you’d use your bare hands, but I feared you’d stop altogether if I snatched the cloth from you. You were quick with your work, spreading a few cursory swipes before moving onto the next joint. Were you afraid I’d grab you again? That tempted me to. 

You coated the joints at each of my limbs, kneeling below me to lubricate my legs and feet. I noticed your raw disgust at my legs, where my corpse was most exposed. You avoided touching my rotten flesh; you didn’t even attempt to dig past my viscera to lubricate the joint at my waist. You hesitated when you reached my neck. 

I leaned my head closer to you, tilting my chin to the side so you would have easier access.

I relished the subtle, weighted inhale you couldn’t suppress. You swallowed before slowly reaching out with your cloth. You smeared thick oil with one hand, but the other hand you used to hold my jaw—your bare hand. It was dizzying to feel. It hypnotized me; wiped my mind the moment you touched me. My eyes closed and my machinery hummed. You were so alive . Your fingers were so alive. I needed them. I needed them. 

“...Weird...” You said. You pulled away from me and I was cold. I hated that I was cold . Rage crept through me until I was blind with it. I hated that you pulled away. I hated that you were alive. I hated that you weren’t touching me. I hated that I needed it. I hated you. I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d-

You held out your hand for me to grab. I took it. 

You stood up and led me to my crate, “There you go. How does that feel?”

The pain was still there, but it was dampened.

You hummed, “Your movement is a little smoother. I wish I could’ve scrubbed off some of that rust...” You leaned closer to my torso, peeking past the viscera. “I spotted a PLC behind all that-” You swallowed, bringing your eyes up to mine before looking away, “Uhm, well anyway, we can do more tomorrow. What do you think about getting your voicebox fixed, hmm?”

I didn’t want my voicebox fixed. I wanted that damned storage protocol gone. And Spring Bonnie’s penchant for children’s noises. However, I couldn’t tell you that. 

You peered at me, turning your head slightly as if you expected me to respond. I didn’t. “...Alright, well....”

You tried to lead me into the box; dragging my hand to it, lightly pushing me in. I wouldn’t go back into the crate.

“...Okay, you can just... stand here then,” You shivered. My eyes followed you as you withdrew from me and moved to a door. “ Goodnight, Bonnie.” You flicked the lights and I was in darkness.

I didn’t move from my spot, but I could still hear you move from the other room. Light pooled at the bottom of the door, an occasional shadow gliding across the floor. Finally, the lights switched off. 

> execute command ([FOLLOW]) = Yes/No?

> No. Not yet.

I was alone. The darkness and silence were nauseating. The white noise returned at the edges of my mind like a creeping sickness. It was dulling, it was numbing, it was maddening . But I could wait. Just until you fell asleep.

I waited. Stillness hugged the air like a blanket. I waited until I suffocated on static.

> Execute([FOLLOW])

Pressure released from my metal bones as they executed the command. I was silent as I moved. I wouldn’t wake you.

I turned the handle of the door. It was locked. 

...Very clever, carrot.

With one quick, muffled jerk, I snapped the doorknob off. Your door slowly creaked open. I dropped the doorknob; it bounced softly on your carpet. My eyes scanned the room for you. It was a bedroom, small and quaint. The blankets shifted on the bed. You didn’t wake. Part of me wished you did.

I moved noiseless to your bedside. You were buried in blankets. Your breath was slow and heavy. How easy would it be to wrap my hands around your throat? To lean over your sleeping body and watch the panic and fear flood your expression? If I had taken a knife from the kitchen, I could’ve painted the sheets with your blood. I’d feel the warmth bleed from you. Your horror would give way to numbness—eyes full of life fading to nothing. You’d be consumed by the static that never left me. Your death, though satisfying, wasn’t what excited me. It was your fear. The terror thrilled me. It thrilled me long before I was dead. 

I didn’t sleep. My body and mind still needed it— craved it— but I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t slept since death.

I didn’t kill you, though my maggot riddled mind desperately craved to. Even if you weren’t going to put me back together, I wouldn’t be able to resist prolonging your death—squeezing every last drop of fear I could from your heart. Now... now I just had to prolong it a little longer than I first intended. I didn’t mind. It gave me more time to savor your terror. To twist your waking moments with dread . You already were second guessing yourself. How could a machine decades old execute such an advanced cognitive function? How could I know what materials you were holding? How could I follow you without you noticing? How could I break into your room, and why was I watching you sleep?

You didn’t know that last one yet, but I was simply giddy to watch that horror wash over you.

No, I didn’t kill you. But I imagined it. I imagined it so vividly, it felt tangible— mouthwateringly tangible. Over and over , playing like a favorite melody. It was my favorite melody. And when I killed you, I’d dance to the song that was your screams.

[albihypnostuff]

Guys fun fact about me I actually have a USB port, yeah you can just like... idunno maybe plug in a USB drive! Make sure its only safe stuff like music for me to listen to my anti-virus isnt very good and we dont want any...manipulative code injected in me

[realjem-art]

more fuckass doodles of the thang (me)