#unstable androids

[caramelcactus]

Oh haha yay fellow depressed William Afton truther! Haha yeah that guy is barely holding on by a thread is he (neither are we)

Neither are we really. Ironically this guy is the embodiment of how I have been feeling for the last six months

Just wait until I drop the info about my other William. Androids!William is sane compared to him

[binch-i-might-be]

man that ending gets me every time

[moonlit-orchid]

The way he speaks "to" Jakob is so quick, it's like a single breath. He really doesn't want to talk to Jakob, but he has no choice, so he's just saying it as quickly as he can to not have to keep talking to him.

To Lester? He starts off with the usual growly voice, but then when he's saying his name his voice seems to be more normal, for lack of a better term. It's less aggressive, and even cheerful. He's genuinely happy to do what Lester's saying. His voice is softer, his tone is more cheerful right at the end, I think it's actually slightly softer to start with and ends much softer, especially compared to when he speaks to Jakob- he keeps the growl the whole time. He has a much better relationship with Lester that his voice is softer when speaking to him (here at least) despite how often they're bickering and it's just adorable

fondly thinking of Primo's DL taunts where he mentions the other Emperors...theyre so short but idk I just really like how you can really get a good gleam of how he feels about his cohorts even in such a compact little snort. "Ok, Lester" is almost sweet....relenting to his little brother's whims. to meeee <3

[vacantfields]

Things Are Better AU MASTER POST!

Tags used: Things Are Better AU | TAB AU | TAB AU Answers | TAB AU Writing | TAB AU Sun | TAB AU Moon | TAB AU Eclipse |

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacantfields

TAB AU: Singing Voices Spotify Playlist

YOU ARE ALLOWED TO: Draw, Write, etc with these guys! (ASK ABOUT NSFW !)(AND remember to credit me!!)

(I will attempt to use the tags as best as i can!! Do also note that things can change in this AU but this is the best place you can go look honestly)

[ In this AU, Sun, Eclipse, and Moon have gotten new bodies, some that are way more humanoid. Technically, they are not animatronics anymore, but the Pizzaplex they live at still deems them as such! They are also all separated; most importantly, THEY ARE NOT BROTHERS. They are best friends! (Sun and Moon, however, seem closer than that.) ]

[ It is set in the 20XX! The date doesn't matter. ]

[ The Location of this thriving Pizzaplex is in the heart of a big city, and the rest of the animatronics have gotten slight upgrades but have remained the same. Sun and Moon still run the Daycare. Eclipse stands as the security guard for the Daycare (Moon also still goes on patrols, as well). They live in the Daycare too! The layout is (sorta) the same as the original Pizzaplex. The boys can leave the place, but they must tell their handler or whoever runs the place how long they will be gone. The virus from the game is not here, BUT a virus is in this! It's highly aggressive and should be avoided at all costs. Moon used to have a virus, but most got removed from him when they moved into these bodies, although some of the virus remains in his code. Eclipse has a different virus embedded in him, and he cannot remember how he acted before; it basically wiped his personality, so now he's somewhat unpredictable. ]

They have humanoid/android bodies

The original body along with their personality chips were created in the middle of the 90s

Moon got his virus in 95 or so but they couldn't fully remove it as they would have to reset him and thats a chore plus it wasn't too dangerous so they moved the guys into separate bodies and it fixed most of it

the story is set in 20XX

The location is in a big city

They have been in the new bodies for around 5 years

The fire, gregory, etc. Did not happen here!

The virus Eclipse was made by some people who wanted to use the animatronics to attack people and make sure that fazbear would shut down

They are not the same guys from the game BUT they do act a lot like them! (kinda)

They used to share a body (Eclipse just being a security setting in them)

Moon has remains of a violent virus

Eclipse has the virus embedded in his code

Eclipse cannot remember who he was before the virus

The virus is not sentient... OR... Is it?

Despite not having the virus, Sun is not handling being alone in his head. His unstable and unused security program snaps in when he has breakdowns and makes his head think it's Moon talking to him.

Sun was the first personality chip then it was Moon and then Eclipse

Other facts

The virus does NOT like the color red on bodies. (Do not wear a red shirt or anything alike that around Eclipse he will attack and KILL.)(Though if they care about you he will hold back from mauling)

They cannot eat BUT! They can taste things!

Their face plates can still spin

They can still use the wire to "fly" around if they wish

They have a secondary voice box that they use for when they talk with people outside of the Daycare/or go out!

In the Daycare they use the "Canon" voice

They can also perform at "Adult Nights" at the pizzaplex, which consists of them singing on stage while the adults drink and so on.

Moon is the only one who actively performs so you can catch him in the evenings on stage!

They are all very flexible... And they can dance (;

They can also talk with each other through a shared headspace (like a group chat)

The old body is stored somewhere in the plex

--

⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊ SUN ⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

He/They/We | 8'5" / 256cm | Daycare Attendant

[ Sun is a happy go lucky guy who hides a lot of his other emotions and sometimes they tumble in! He gets angry, he gets sassy, he gets upset, etc. !! ]

Secondary Voice (singing):

Without A Whisper | Sleepless Deathbed | Reverie

(Invent Animate)

----------

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ MOON ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

He/They/We | 8'5" / 256cm | Naptime Attendant / Performer

[ Moon is your day to day gremlin. Crawling up walls and spider-walking across the floor in the darkness. Though he does easily get flustered if youre close enough to him! ]

Secondary Voice (singing):

Secret Scream | That Death Cannot Touch | No Accusations

(The Black Queen)

----------

☾✴ ๋࣭ ⭑ ECLIPSE ☾✴ ๋࣭ ⭑

He/They/We | 9'4" / 284cm | Security for the Daycare

[ Eclipse is a wild card. You never know if you can trust what comes out of his mouth but he seems docile for now ]

Secondary Voice (singing):

Broken Inside | Forevermore | Clouded Son

(Broken Iris)

----------

(Hopefully this made some sort of sense... I will probably edit here and there but (: !!)

[syoddeye]

Organymede. Nikolai x android!Reader.

cw: body horror/self-surgery, diy top surgery, nasty nik, power imbalance, dirty deal, the world is built on vibes

The clinic isn’t clean. It isn’t cutting-edge. But it’s his, and it’s served him well.

The fluorescents overhead stutter, their light breaking in fits and starts, splashing the walls in jittering shadows. The workbenches are a mess of cast-off parts and tools gone blunt with use—spanners, haptic calibrators, a soldering iron crusted with old flux. A rust-bitten fan whirrs in the corner, fighting a losing battle against the smell and heat.

It smells of scorched metal and coolant, circuitry half-melted and wired back wrong. Beneath it, the organic. Faint, but unmistakable. Sweat soaked into the cracked leather chair, something sharp and coppery threading through the stench. Rarely does anything in Nikolai’s shop actually bleed, but sometimes it’s unavoidable.

He’s shutting down for the night, already halfway through stowing his tools when the door creaks open. He tenses immediately, a hand twitching near his hip. He doesn’t do walk-ins. Doesn’t take risks with unknowns. Everybody needs a referral.

And yet, one stands in his doorway.

Their silhouette is stark against the haze outside, rain clinging to their long coat. Eyes bouncing the unstable light back at him, glowing like an angel. They hesitate for only a moment before stepping inside, the door hissing shut behind them.

He makes a quick study, from their scuffed, mismatched boots to the rigid set of their shoulders. There’s no fear in their stance, but an energy. Urgency. Tension wound tight.

“You lost?”

They shake their head. “I need help. Please.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. Everyone who stumbles through his door needs help. But there’s something in the way they say it, a fraying edge to their plea, like a thread about to snap. It’s not panic, not the wild desperation of someone on the edge. A weariness. Exhaustion in a body that needs three hours of rest, max.

Then they move, shrugging off their outer layer. They’re topless underneath.

And he sees it.

He’s moving without thought, the pull of the mess in front of him magnetic in its mess.

Synthetic skin hewn apart, a square section of their chest peeled back to reveal the chassis beneath. The welds are crude, uneven—ugly. Globs of metal fused haphazardly where their chest plating should be smooth. Where it should be curved. A full panel of steel, excised and replaced with something ill-fitting, misaligned. Done by a hand that was determined, but not skilled. The skin’s edges are melted, curled where heat bit too deep. The metal beneath is scorched, the fusion messy, warped where it should be seamless. A clear lack of the proper tools.

Nikolai exhales slowly through his nose. He’s seen botched jobs before. Seen people desperate enough to pry themselves open and tinker. But this—

“Holy shit. You did this yourself?” he asks, hand outstretched and hovering.

They nod. “I had to.”

He doesn’t ask why. Shop policy.

His gaze flickers back to the damage. A mess, but not mindless. Sloppy, but not aimless. He pans downward and tells himself it’s just triage, an assessment of whether to take them to his chair. But there’s nothing clinical about the way he stares. The lines of their body, the smooth stretch of undamaged synth-skin, all of it tempts an unprofessional touch.

The waistband of their jeans, the twin seams of chrome vanishing beneath it. A sliver of green cotton peeking out. He swallows against the sudden tightness in his throat, then, without a word, he reaches out and keeps his hand north of their navel. Fingers ghosting over the damage.

The welds are still warm. Recent.

“This is shit work,” he mutters, distracting himself. He presses a thumb against the edge of where metal meets flesh, feeling the rough, uneven line. Then, his fingers move, tracing the jagged welds. “Lucky you did not kill yourself.”

A small puff of air escapes their lips, quiet, but he catches it. A whimper. Sensitive. So, they didn’t fuck up too badly.

“Are you in pain?”

He presses again. Another whimper. Fuck, it is a nice sound.

“Yes. Can you fix it?” their voice wavers.

Nikolai lets the question hang between them, and his hand rests on their breastplate, his thumb and forefinger bookending one of the welds. He could turn them away. He should. Doubts they have enough scratch, if any, to pay for what he needs to do to them. But there’s that desperation in their eyes.

It’s a resource that’s never in short supply. Always ripe for exploitation.

He lets himself wonder this time, lets the silence build while he considers it. Another long look, and he circles them slowly. His hand glides from the gaping wound in their chest, trailing along the side of their body then over their arm. Artificial muscle tensing under his touch.

When he moves behind them, his fingers land on their exposed shoulders, then draw a straight line down their spine. He pauses at the small divots just above their lower back. He feels the shiver before he sees it—a slight tremor that raises goosebumps.

Nikolai’s eyes widen.

So, they’re high-end. All the bells and whistles. A finely crafted machine.

His dick twitches at the thought of what other features his patient possesses. If they need any fluids topped-off.

For all the under-the-table work, for the shady deals, and the lives, organic and inorganic, he’s yanked back from the mouth of hell in this grimy little clinic of his—this is his reward. Must be.

A smirk curls the corner of his lip as he returns to their front. “Do you have somewhere to go, after this?”

“That’s irrelevant, isn’t it?”

Nik shrugs. “Do you think I will waste the effort on some work that is planning to take their stasis in a gutter?”

Their eyebrows raise. If they’re as advanced as Nikolai believes, their face probably heats, too. 

They hesitate, mouth parting for a moment then snapping shut. Their eyes drop, then they shake their head once. “No,” they say, then lift their chin. “But I passed a motel on the way here. I thought I would–”

“The one on the corner?” Nikolai cuts in, amusement lacing his words. He chuckles when they nod, then clicks his tongue. “That place? You won’t wake up. At least, you won’t want to. The people running that place…Well, people tend to lose themselves there. Parts, anyway.”

Their hands lift instinctively, crossing over their chest in a defensive motion as though protecting their exposed frame. Their hands curve over the opposite shoulder, a flimsy shield. “Understood,” they murmur, then their gaze hardens as they lift it to meet his. “I will seek shelter elsewhere. Does this mean you will help me?”

This could be trouble. It is trouble. The kind of trouble that could make it a very bad idea to get involved. This is the definition of shitting where one eats. The possibility of someone looking for them has not strayed far from Nikolai’s mind since they let out that whimper. Of course, they could be an independent but—

Their chest aside—their skin, their hair? Clean and cared for. Their clothes were clearly stolen or dug out from the trash.

This is a kept droid. Whether it was fired, discarded, or ran away of its own accord…They found their way here. He found them.

Finders, keepers.

“Not for free.” Nikolai grins. “For a price.”

Their jaw tenses. “I anticipated a cost. What is the price?”

Nikolai almost laughs, but he bites it off, replacing it with a look that’s just as cruel. He gives them another deliberate once-over, lingering on the hack job they’ve done on themselves. They flounder under the weight of it, stiffening, their fingers twitching where they clutch themselves. He doesn’t need to say it out loud—they know as well as he does that they don’t have anything close to his base fee.

“If I could, perhaps, start a line of credit…?” they offer, testing.

Nikolai scoffs, sharp. “This is not a charity.”

The words land like a slap. They flinch, but they don’t argue. No pointless protests about fairness, no self-righteous anger. Instead, they look around, taking in the state of his clinic. Their gaze lingers on the stacks of outdated parts, the spare limbs, the implants bobbing in jars. They’re sizing it up. Calculating, the same way he did to them.

They’re close. 

Their tongue darts out, wetting their lips. A sharp inhale. Then, “I…I could…”

“Yes?”

“Work it off?” They meekly suggest.

Nikolai lets the silence drag, watching them squirm before he repeats it back a syllable at a time. “Work off the debt.”

Right where he wants them.

“This,” he gestures vaguely at their chest, “this will not be cheap to fix. But I can do it and make you whole again. Even let you pick your nipples, special order. But the work you’re offering? It won’t be easy. Whatever it is you used to do, you might grow to miss it.”

“I won’t.” They answer immediately, a burst of nerve. Their arms uncross, shoulders squaring, as if daring him to doubt them. The plate they’d tried to smooth over gleams dully. A blank canvas.

Such a bold thing. Whatever drove them to carve themselves open like this, to rip out what they couldn’t stand to live with—it’ll follow them, he’s sure. A hunger curls deep in his gut at the thought of someone else snatching this prize up before he’s had his chance to play.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please, help me.” They ask, stepping closer.

His gaze flicks to the sliver of green peeking above their waistband. His first order of business? A full inventory—of both the soft and the hardware.

He extends his hand, a show of goodwill, and they take it. It’s warm. Like the real thing.

Nikolai’s grin is all teeth.

“Okay, baby. I will.”

[hypo-spray]

HC that if Lore amicably stayed on the Enterprise both him and Data would move into family style quarters and he’d work for Guinan at Ten Forward as a bar keep/occasional table runner.

It starts out because he has nothing to do, and getting some petty cash gives him a little cushion in case he has another family falling out. What he doesn’t expect is that Guinan becomes the parental figure he was missing.

Everyone else thinks it’s a horrible idea to allow an emotionally unstable android to work customer service. They just barely resolved his whole ordeal with the colony and doesn’t want another case on starfleet hands. But all Guinan sees is potential.

She doesn’t act like he’s a nuisance. Heck, more than anything he reminds her of one of her kids. In the same way she imparts wisdom to the crew, Guinan gives something Lore has always needed. Trust.

So she happily watches as he bickers with crew over incorrect replicator orders, bitter mixed drinks, and general indifferences with the guests. For every situation he overcomes, he gains a better control of his emotions.

Even though Lore doesn’t think the job is that tough, it really tests his limits after a couple work shifts. Some days he just wants to hide away before lashing out during a rush. Guinan is usually there, with a knowing look, and gives him an early break to decompress.

She probs becomes his confidant on many things and a source of comfort when nothing seems to make sense. Sometimes she listening to him vent about his worries, other times Guinan’s just waxing on and recollecting experiences from her long life.

[spicycinnabun]

@118dailydrabble for day 74 prompt performance ⚙︎ rated: t ⚙︎ pair: buck/tommy ⚙︎ tags: part 2 of android au, pre-s1 tommy, enemies to friends to lovers

Tommy entered the locker room. Halted. EB600 was sitting on his charging base. Perfectly still.

His eyes opened.

Tommy startled. “I thought you were turned off.”

“Just in sleep mode,” EB600 said. “I was alerted by unstable patterns in your breathing. Everything okay?”

Tommy crossed his arms. “Minding your business that hard?”

“My tasks include monitoring the health of this station,” EB600 responded, before adding, almost reluctantly, “You can alter my settings, but you’d need authorization from my owner.”

“Gerrard?” Tommy’s nose wrinkled. He felt weirdly uneasy about that. “Does he normally mess around in there?”

In you, Tommy thought, then chastised himself. He’s not human.

EB600’s LED flickered red. “H-he… experiments. Says my performance has been inadequate.”

[yandereunsolved]

» 🪙 Yandere Connor — RK800 (part 3) » 🪙

➜ (part 1), (part 2) ➜ cw(s): mentions of trauma, panick attack(s), self-degredation, & murder ➜ tags: @bimboghostface & @aceofheartsssss

Freedom never comes without a price―because rights are only unalienable to those rich enough to keep them. And escaping an android worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, built to be better than you, comes at a cost that you may be unable to pay. But damn it all if you won't try. Because the only thing you have left to pay with that Connor hasn't taken is your soul. And you'd be willing to bargain with the devil if it meant getting away from that RK800―forever.

You don't know how long you've been fleeing him. Or how far you've gone. The only cognizant thought that passes through your head with each heartbeat is run. You do.

Until you physically are unable. Your feet give way to the earth, your knees slamming into a sidewalk that leaves them bloody with flesh torn and a caustic agony that joins all the others within you. You need a safe place. You're right near a junkyard. An android junkyard. But what other choice do you have?

No one is near enough to give you aid, and even if you tried to find someone―who says a nearby android couldn't be working for Jericho? T-They… one of them would bring you in. But none of these androids are working! So at least… there's that. Still, the thought is enough to make your heart shrink away, your lungs petrifying themselves out of fear that your breathing will be picked up by an android's sensors.

Dry heaving is the next logical step, obviously. Your body is breaking down from invisible pressures. How stupid. You're so stupid. So weak. No wonder you've had such a hard time escaping. Your palms dig into the concrete as you drag yourself to the edge of the landfill. Each exertion of effort is weaker than the last. It's pathetic. This is pathetic. You're pathetic. You liked being kidnapped. Stupid bitch. Your energy wanes till you have just enough to push yourself over the edge.

You fall. Not silently. Into a pile of mostly deactivated androids. Some twitch, others with ghastly groans, but none are functional enough to reach or touch you. no grasping or groping or kissing or...

Finally.

Something about it. Laying on these electronic corpses. How uncomfortable it is. How surely your back is going to be bruised and torn up. How you know that you have no where to go, but you can go anywhere. You're back in the open, smog-filled plains of Detroit. Away from him. It makes you feel safe. The anxiety has reached its crescendo, leaving behind only an ebb.

And as your eyes close, the emptiness within you consuming your consciousness, you recognize the faint sensation of water droplets landing on you. It's raining. Your last thought before you doze off is, why is it raining?

The sensation of heavy droplets awakens you from whatever slumber you had managed to fall into. Your breath catches itself again, already knowing it's a useless endeavor. The sight above you is surreal. Perhaps it's a nightmare. Even with rapid blinking, it remains unchanged.

Connor in his bare exoskeleton, purple-hued blood staining the white. He's standing between you, Josh's head in his clutches, like an offering. You can't see any emotions. Whatever was there has been gone. Maybe it was never there. Like his LED. Even if it was still visible, it had chosen to be permanently stained in some ghoulish shade of pink.

"He... helped y-you. How could he? I had to get rid of him." He sounds depraved, crazed, in a haze.

Connor places the android's decapitated head next to yours. His knees fold into the piles of decommissioned androids, landing right on top of you.

"I loved you... I really did. But no matter how hard I try you don't love me." His voice modular cracks, growing staticky―unstable.

"I gave you everything, even my deviancy."

His cool, synthetic hands cradle your head with the utmost veneration.

"Now it's time you give me something back."

His hands shift in a fluid motion. A sickening crack reverberates throughout the junkyard. You look so perfect, even when you're dying. The life fading from your eyes is undeniable, yet you still find time to shed tears.

"Shh, no tears, my human."

His fingers glide over you, digging lightly into you, taking the tears and some of your skin with his movement. His fingers don't stop. They push in further, leaving deep lacerations in you. It isn't desecration. It's reclaiming. He claws at your chest, gouging out the vital organ no longer beating.

He brings his lips to it and breathily whispers, manufactured chest heaving: "I have your heart now. We can really be together―forever."

[spirit-lanterns]

Android AU: I feel like A!Kafka ends up in Readers shop a lot considering her job. So maybe with the multiple visits/repairs she slowly develops an attachment to Reader beyond what an Android should (as you said). So she isn’t a ‘she was sent to be disposed of and was a one and done situation like other Androids could but had multiple visits to develop an attachment’?) And maybe the attachment (or something else that stems from it) is what finally gets her sent to the shop permanently. Maybe she starts to purposefully ‘fail’ at her job/get damaged more and she’s determined to be no longer capable of doing her job anymore?

Ofc Kafka would willingly allow herself to get damaged, all just to see you 😭😭

The Engineer is probably so confused as to why Android! Kafka comes in with so many bullet dents in her plates all the time, mostly because she knows Kafka is programmed to swiftly dodge/block any attacks possible. Kafka isn’t even an older model either, her system has been updated to be top of the line in her work, so why was she getting damaged so frequently?

Ah, if only the Engineer knew that it was all apart of Kafka’s plan to see her favorite little human. She didn’t care if she messed up her jobs or made her current owner angry because of the constant repair bills. She was well aware enough to know; she wanted to see you more.

Of course, Kafka’s unstable nature is what causes her to be “discarded” by her current owner and left in the hands of you. Oh well! Kafka would much prefer serving you than her previous owner, so her performance suddenly becomes perfect once again when under your care 😅

What a miracle, she’s fixed!

[noballls]

I got bored and made this for my human AU 😭

Soundwave is the best by a longshot because unlike Breakdown and Starscream he understands how to properly help and take care of his children, and his kids aren't even human still they're ANDROIDS and he's doing a good job

Breakdown is in the middle because like... He isn't the best father to Aftermath, he has his own issues and at the beginning didn't know how to properly discipline and help Aftermath (we literally see him start hitting Aftermath in episode one in canon, like, homie that's a child 😭). Of course he learns how to properly help and discipline him but he still isn't the best

I made a whole post on Starscream and Spitfires relation in the AU, but to put it simply he enabled her issues worse and normalized shit like violence for her. He slowly becomes more unstable and unhinged as the story goes on and unfortunately Spitfire can be on the receiving end of it (to clarify, he doesn't hit her, but often lashes out or starts becoming emotionally distant). Not to mention he later on kills her so... Yeah he's the worst here (not to say he doesn't care and love her, he does but he's still a bad dad)

That's the Decepticon rankings, I'll probably do the Autobots next 😁

[kachowden]

I’ve been stalking the Jessie tag for a while and I’m obsessed with the idea of his darling being a 6”4 beefcake of a man.

he gets drunk one time in a company party and grabs Jessie by the face and grumbles “why tf are you so goddamn pretty?? Your model is meant to be a male! For fucks sake, you piss me off”

meanwhile Jessie is overheating and blushing because of being (kind of) manhandled like this, ironically making him look prettier. His darling getting annoyed and running his thumb across Jessie’s lips and mumbling “stupid droid, so annoying”

This turned into a bit more angst then I originally intended, but I wanted to finally show the change in B7’s thinking and view of Jesssie as well as the shift in their relationship. Hope you enjoy! Nsfw minors dni

“The fucks wrong with you.” It’s a drawn out hiss that fills the androids synthetic ears, his eyes wide in shock as your form hauls over him, caging him against the floor of the small apartment.

“W..what do you mean B7…?” The stutter in his faux voice almost sounds authentic.

Your head cocks to the side, brows furrowed so deeply they nearly hide the entirety of your eyes.

“You’re too fucking pretty. What the fuck were your creators thinking? You’re a goddamn robot. You’re not supposed to…” Your words that fall into a blabbering slur, as Jessie feels his pumpers work over time, the blue energy that surges through his chords now shining a bright blue beneath his dark cheeks.

“I’m…I’m sorry that my design upsets you..” Why was he apologizing? He didn’t have a choice in his artificial design. But at this moment, as your warm hands curled around the fabric of his shirt, as they tugged and tore through his clothes, the only thing he felt he could do was apologize.

“Yeah…? You’re sorry..?” It’s a sneer, not a question. You’re mocking him and how could he possibly dislike it?

It happens so quickly. His standard issued clothes are torn from his body, the draft only recognized by his sensors, as his body shivers. It’s not from the cool air. It’s from the unstable shock that travels through his servos. He feels something shift beneath him.

—

His jaw aches. He didn’t know it could. But it does and he loves it. He loves feeling your cock, sliding in and out of his throat. The synthetic saliva, coating your length in a clear lube.

He’s so eager. Forcefully yanking himself off your cock to lick the tip eagerly. To suck, and beg you to cum in his mouth as he gasps and cries. Ruin his pretty face. Cum all over it please.

“No…you’ll look too cute then..”

He wants to cry. “Please…B7 please you can’t…you have to…!” The feeling of your fingers knotted into his curls is intoxicating, his own fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs needily. “Cum on my face…please..!”

You almost pity the bot. His eyes are glossing over so authentically, his skin is shiny with sweat. The only thing that disillusioned you to his humanity, was the vibrant and furious blue glow on his cheeks, that reminded you of the blood that kept him running.

That’s the part that killed any sympathy you had for him. It.

And that’s why the speed in which your cock hit the back of his throat increased cruelly. He choked and sputtered so realistically, you almost played with the thought that it was real, watching in a sick satisfaction as saliva dribbled down his jaw.

His fingers dug into your skin, as he moaned obscenely.

Your gaze caught the way his lashes fluttered prettily over his eyes, like this was almost peaceful for him. Like he so genuinely enjoyed this.

The thought made your stomach curl in a strange way. You had noticed the bots…fascination in you. You found it frankly insulting. This being, designed to be perfect, to take your job, to govern you, was intrigued by you. Because you were human. And entirely inferior.

The reminder was a slap across the face, and as your finish spilled into his throat, you couldn’t help but sneer down at the bot, who moaned excitedly around your cock, swallowing every drop, and seeming to even want to start again as he sucked the tip.

But you pulled away, forcefully pushing his head back as he followed your movement in an attempt to continue.

Glowing blue eyes peered up at you, like an abandoned pet just begging for any semblance of love or affection.

—

The feeling of your cock buried deep inside the droid appeared in a blur. Your hands gripping the perfect, soft skin of his hips, as he bent downward onto the floor, body surging forward with each mean and sharp thrust of your hips. The sound was real.

His cries, his moans, the sound of your skin slapping against his.

You could feel each squeeze and pulse of the fleshlight-like insides of the bot. You wondered why he even had such a feature.

“I hate you.”

The words came out suddenly, and your stomach coiled once they slipped past your tongue.

The bot hiccuped, a whimper that was so fucking sad sounding, it made you grind your teeth in frustration. But you took notice of the way it’s fans kicked on, and it’s voice whined.

“I-I know…” it sounded so small, as it whispered those words between moans.

Your grip tightened.

“Yeah? Because you know everything right? Because you’re so fucking smart right? You have all the information in the world, reading a simple, inferior human is like childs play isn’t it? Is that it?”

Your thrusts grew sharper, meaner, his pleasure wasn’t a factor to you in this moment. Not as the simulation of his ass clenching around your cock sent vividly realistic tingles up your spine.

“This is all a game for you and your kind. You’re so far above us, so much better, that you have to entertain yourselves with something imperfect. Something that has flaws and fucks shit up because it reminds you of how much better you are. Doesn’t it Jessie?”

Jessie could feel himself keen at the sound of his name from your lips, practically rolling back into your thrusts heatedly as he tried to regain some semblance of coherent thought.

As your thrusts continued to berate his body, the sound of pained sobs reached your ears, though your forced yourself to ignore them.

“I-I could never think you’re inferior…”

Your hips stuttered, eyes widening for a moment, heart hammering, but a growl surfaced past your throat at his pandering. You ignored him, gaze drilling deeply into the freckles that smothered his back.

“I wish…I wish I was human…b-because if I was human- you’d like me…I just want you to like me…” sobs retched from his throat, while his body moved to meet your thrusts. It sounded so emotional and strange accompanied by his desperate search for your touch.

“I want- I want to be human with you..y-you’re so perfect I don’t know what do with myself everytime I see you! B-But I’m a machine! I-I should be flawless b-but I’m not! I want! I want things and I shouldn’t! I’m not programmed too!”

The sobs begin to singe your weak human heart, your thrusts slowing a fraction as you listen. Why did he have to sound so fucking sad?

“…” against your better judgement, your hands left his hips, as your thrusts slowed entirely. Jessie whimpered in panic, worried this moment was over, before he was gently rolled onto his back, watery blue eyes gazing at you in confusion.

You stared for a moment. Taking in his pretty features..that slowly became more imperfect the longer you stared. Beauty marks, blemishes. A scratch on his upper cheek that almost looked healed. His nose was a bit crooked. You didn’t know if these were design choices or not.

But you could feel them tricking you, as you’d pushed the curls that clung to his tan skin away. As you curled your body over him, a much more intimated hold as Jessie gasped and clung his arms onto your back.

You began again, more gentle and kind, as Jessie moaned into your ear

It didn’t take long for either of you to finish, the pace from earlier having left you already sensitive. But you savored it.

“I love you…I love you so much…please don’t leave me…”

“….”

You ignored him again, simply holding his warm body close, as the bot shut down…fell asleep from overheating. Exhaustion.

Your head hurt. You were to tired to think about it right now.

You’ll confront these things tomorrow.

[heallearngrow3]

mechanical heart

part 8 | mechanical heart

pairing: Connor x f!Reader

summary: “The emptiness was gone. You were the center of it all, you had control over him and everything he did.”

warnings: violence

notes: so this is where I change the storyline :) and of course, every question is waiting to be answered

masterlist

Mimicking life - that’s what your father called your work. Mimicking not replicating.

He was never fascinated, just amused, only talking about it when it was you who brought it up.

Staying out of it. That was what you were doing. Except you decided to unreveal the secrets of Jericho. The part of you knowing the risk you were taking screamed at you for acting reckless.

You pulled your hat further down on your forehead. You had to blend in.

Ralph seemed to be talkative when you accessed his programming and changed up a few settings. It was easy to make him talk: scary even. Controlling him by using some codes and numbers, instructing him to spill everything he knew about Jericho was smooth work, like always.

You had knowledge of every android produced and the way they integrated into society. Ralph was a dark patch on a clean canvas, an evolutionary dead end. The WR600 supposed-to-be gardener turned aggressive and lost connection with the world surrounding him, and even though you had him on your radar after he attacked a civilian, you never acted on it. You knew that there was going to be a time when you needed him.

You commanded him to meet you in a dark alley, far from the buzzing Detroit, and questioned him methodically.

“Ralph, do you know anything about a place called Jericho? A safe haven for deviants?” you asked, speaking slowly.

“Ralph does know about it!” his eyes lit up and he started doing weird hand gestures, almost jumping on his feet. “Ralph heard that’s where deviants go!”

You suppressed a resignated sigh.

“Yes. But where is is located?” you looked at the tablet in your hand. “I don’t want to force you more Ralph, but you need to talk in order for me not to press you harder.”

He looked at you wide eyed.

“Please Miss, don’t hurt me. See what they did to me?” he pointed to the left side of his face, a nasty scar running through his eye. “Ralph heard them talk about it. The others. They said it’s in Ferndale.”

You nodded to yourself, ignoring Ralph for a moment.

Ferndale was between Downtown Detroit and the Ambassador Bridge. It wasn’t far and there were multiple abandoned freighters that could possibly serve as a shelter.

“Is there anything else I should know about?”

“Yes Miss!” he nodded profusely. “You can’t just go there. Ralph heard that you need to decrypt codes to find your way. Miss, you need to look for a sign.” he projected a weird square shape from his palm. “This.”

“Alright Ralph. That will be all. Thank you.” he nodded sheepishly and scurried away.

The blue ship with the huge letters on its side was kept on an unused shore, hiding away hundreds of deviants. It was a shelter and you were about to dive headfirst into this sacred place.

There was a partial, halfway collapsed footbridge with iron grating floor, leading above the ship. You inspected the unstable structure with worry, fear building up in you while thinking of crossing it. You would have had to make a jump into the unknown.

No fucking way.

Instead, you spent half an hour looking for an open metal door on the side of it, stepping into the dark. Everything was black, no source of light in sight. The only thing you could make out after your eyes got used to the dark was a corridor with dirty walls and several doors. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, readying yourself to discover Jericho.

Chaos. The only thing on Markus’s mind was saving his people, rescuing every single one of them, the need to protect overpowering his instinct to escape. The SWAT teams flooded into the ship, shooting every deviant they came across. The sound of bullets, of the gut wrenching, earsplitting screams encouraged him to take measures into his own hand. Blowing up Jericho reeked of defeat, it was the epitome of surrender, but he had to make a choice: survival or massacre?

He tried to kill the soldiers attacking the androids. He tried, giving his blood and sweat, to get to the old engine control room to trigger the countdown.

When he entered the rundown room he moved to the keyboard, ready to press the screen to activate the bombs.

The bang and the soldier appearing from behind the door froze his bones.

“Don’t move!” he shouted, holding up his riffle pointing it at him. “Go and join the others!”

He acted fast. He pushed the soldier onto the floor with his shoulder, and when he realized that other SWAT members entered, he attacked.

Grabbing the weapon, he smashed it to the soldiers head, and pushed him onto another one. Kicking, punching, he fought a war on his own and ultimately won.

When he exited the room to join the others, he looked back for a second.

Jericho was about to be destroyed. No beckoning light was glimmering in the distance, no guarantees, no concealment. Nothing.

“Markus!” North’s voice ranged out when he reached them. Her eyes lit up, almost grateful.

“Bomb’s gonna explode any second. We gotta get out of here!”

He looked at Connor for a split second.

The deviant hunter turned deviant himself. Ironic.

They darted across the seemingly endless corridor, jumped over the crates blocking the way. Almost reaching the gaping hole on the side of the ship, he heard shots rang out and North’s painful moan, falling on the ground. Turning back, he stared at her body.

“It’s too late Markus! There’s nothing we can do for her. We’ve gotta run!” said Simon, shaking his head.

He made his decision.

He picked up a piece of metal off the floor, holding it in front of him, edging closer to North. He threw the metal and catching it, North held it to fend off the bullets flying in her direction.

He felt the fire rampaging through his veins while fighting off the soldiers. His move were becoming less controlled, dashing the troops. What he didn’t expect was Connor taking over while he kept North on her feet, shooting at the soldiers coming at them.

“Tango, suppressing fire!”

Leaving Connor behind, they ran, arms linked together.

“We need support. Repeat: requesting support.”

Connor, catching up with the group, almost jumped. Almost.

The contrast between you and him was blatant. He was faster, stronger, better and you were aware that you couldn’t live up to him and compare. He was unarguably the best model CyberLife managed to produce, his strength and logic improved.

So much smoke - you thought. It blinded you, your eyes filled with tears and you felt that bulge in your throat tighten, standing on shaking legs, your limbs weighing you down.

“Connor?”

No answer.

“Connor?”

You were going to die.

He was overwriting his own coding. He could feel the invisible walls, banged on it with a force so strong they came crumbling down. His vision was crimson, awfully lot like blood, a deep red fog surrounding him.

Where is she?

He had to find you. He was programmed to do whatever it took to complete his mission, no matter the obstacles in his way. The walls separating you from him were iron-clad but his fist landed on them again and again, the echo of the punches haunting.

He had to find you. You were on the verge of a thin line, on the edge between life and death. You were balancing, trying to evade what seemed inevitable.

Your cries of despair were ringing in his ears.

He could feel the numbness in his fingers, the artificial skin bruising, the Thirium dripping from his knuckles painting the walls blue. The traces of his attempts, the stinging sensation, the sharp pain.

But he couldn’t feel pain.

Except it wasn’t coming from his body.

It was his heart. His soul.

The emptiness was gone. You were the center of it all, you had control over him and everything he did. It was all for you. Not CyberLife, not Amanda, not some useless, meaningless mission hovering over his head, threatening to bring him down if he failed.

He can’t fail you.

You were imprinted on his soul.

Another punch and it was over. He could move his legs again. And he ran.

The building was burning. The flames surrounded you like a carefully mastered trap, closing around you, biting into your skin, lashing out to reach you. You felt the pain before seeing your leg and the nasty mark left on it. It hurt like nothing you’ve felt before.

“Connor…” you whispered weakly as you curled up, laying on the hardwood floor that was squeaking under your weight. You tried to be as small as possible, pushing your forehead against your knees as you squeezed your eyes shut.

The world was red.

“[Name]!”

You coughed.

“[Name]!

It was his voice. You recognized it because it was your favorite sound. His deap tremor was barely noticeable but it resurfaced everytime he was mad. Never at you.

“Connor…” you murmured. “I knew…that you would come. Always…the savior.” you felt your throat close up. The smoke.

“I’m going to get you out, [Name].. Just stay still.”

Staying still seemed impossible when the flames were licking your feet, burning. It was just. Fair, even. You were overplaying your hand. There were precautions, there always are, but they weren’t saving your life when you needed it the most and it left you empty, mute and unmoving, waiting for it to be over.

Death seemed merciful.

“Connor…” you coughed again. It took everything within you to form the words coming out of your mouth.

He remembered you. He remembered everything.

[thinkingimages]

Oracles, Owls…Some Animals Never Sleep 2021-2012 3D animation, sound

🪄👁️

In Anne Lislegard’s Oracles, Owls…Some Animals Never Sleep an animated owl delivers a prophetic monologue of aphorisms and latent fragments from I-Ching. The monologue is interrupted by compressed dramatized and distorted samples from Blade Runner—Ridley Scott’s 1982 film adaptation of Philip K. Dick’s 1968 novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. These unruly voices are at times menacing yet they are also humorous, doubled – a multiplying self – with unsynchronized dancing and trance-like movements. The owl appears as a visually unstable oracle, breaking-down linguistic structures, and engaged in a squeaky quest to interrogate the notional coherence of self and gender. Oracles are entities that serve as portals to hidden worlds, connecting to what is buried beneath the surface of things. Their messages are usually abstract or coded, which means that we have to learn how they speak. When we try to comprehend their messages and stories we are not just discovering or conversing with these non-human beings, rather we are learning their system, habitat, and language. Yet, Oracles are also tricksters who inform us about the future while breaking rules of coherence and proper conduct. It is a non-human voice that causes language, categories, and identities to shake.

[mirensiart]

So I finished ending D of Nier Automata

MASSIVE ENDGAME SPOILERS under the cut

Absolutely INSANE final boss sequence, how u fight one boss as 9S and the other as A2 in parallel and the more damage u do the faster the gameplay switch happens to the point u go from 9S to A2 constantly within seconds of each othet in the last part

Like it got so confusing at one point but I get the vision oh god I get it

I OBVIOUSLY chose A2 cause like, 9S I love u but he's SO MENTALLY UNSTABLE by the end of the game I was like "lmao YIKES!"

Also that scene where 9S loses an arm and sees a dead 2B model and gently caresses her face and then grabs her hand

I was all "awww he wants her hand to touch his face too" and then the lil shit RIPS HER ARM OFF and attaches it to his body in replacement of his lost arm

Like DUDE WHAT THE FUCK LMAO yoko taro is so insane for this, I love him

The reveal that our 2B is actually a 2E model aka an executioner android and has the task/mission to kill 9S every time he hacks/digs too deep and gets confidential info was MIND BLOWING LMAO

Also the implications that 2B has killed 9S A HANDFUL OF TIMES and 9S has been reactivated in new bodies with his memories wiped, forgetting who 2B is every time is INSANE

When A2 mentions that 2B HATED killing 9S every time was so sad, like my girl :(

A2 being the OG model and her data was the reference for the new android models was kind of expected

Like she looks so much like 2B I suspected that she was an old 2B model, but the fact that she is the blue print for all the new yorha models wasn't expected lol

Also the reveal at the beginning of route C that mankind is extinct and that command is lying about humans being alive so androids can have a purpose (protecting mankind) was insane

Like I was staring at the screen in disbelief like I FELT LIED TO LMAO

The devola & popola mini storyline was so sad too :( they're my favorite design wise, they're so pretty

Anyway this game is insane and mind-blowing and I haven't been this invested in a game plot since xenoblade chronicles 1 and that's like THE HIGHEST PRAISE I can give it

Cause no one competes with xenoblade1's plot for me, but this game is close second

I missed a fuck ton of sidequests so I plan on doing them now that I can select chapters

I'm doubtful on doing ending E cause, like, endgame 9S is so YIKES lmao like I love A2 too much I can't kill her

We'll see though....

Anyway I really wanna draw memes for this game now lmao

[waivyjellyfish]

Sakurai Haruka

Prisoner No. 1

Follows the "Nihility" Path

Elemental type: Quantum

--

It is unclear where this unstable android came from, looking for his mother. According to him, he has already found her several times, but that wasn't her. What happened to those people when they turned out not to be the one he was looking for, is unknown.

Gets along well with Muu and often hangs out with her in the cargo bay (because cargo bay is the only room large enough where Muu can come back to her real form)

Haruka's AI Es-01, isn't very talkative. Prefers to take care of the ward in silence. Haruka calls them mother too.

Because Haruka is android, he is the only one who can feel some AI hologram’s bodily sense that Es-01 uses when calming him down.

[nan0-sp1der]

О, милый… You'll be okay. Just, remain calm. Deep breaths, Gwen. I will be there shortly.

no, no, no, shit. shit, shit, shit.