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#robot/animatronic gore?
lig-tu · 1 year
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🦊🎀
*random radio noises* 
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rambunctioustoons · 10 months
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repairing sunrays ✨
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sage-qwq · 7 days
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I got a severe mental block for a few days and ended up only drawing how the inner mechanics of the glamrock’s endos work.
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talos-stims · 1 year
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END-WORLD NORMOPATHY | source
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barksbog · 11 months
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started a new project!!!
he breathes fog and i'm thinking about making him into an amphibian themed beast
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black-salt-cage · 2 months
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ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚
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scopostims · 2 years
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[ID: 3 GIFs of an animatronic that looks like a demogorgon head, the "petals" opening, closing, and moving around. End ID]
demogorgon animatronic (source) :•]
giffed by me, credit if you use!!
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insect0idfreakaz0id · 5 months
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I haven't made cool new things to post much and if I did I'm not posting them yet so here is a drawing of me and my boyfriend & another drawing of my truesona/me and . Little... Big drawing of wander !!!! Bye tumbler
EDIT: AGH I FORGOT TO PUT IT IN BC I LOST THE LINK BUT I FOUND IT !!! I Looked at this as a reference to draw me and my boyfriend ihope it's Okay
(warning for gore[?] Organs in below image)
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lover-of-skellies · 1 year
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basslinegrave · 6 months
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seeing more furry springtrap art on my tl and yall are weak. gotta make him prettied up and more anthro and less a rotten robot to make him more hot or whatever. the machinery and decay is where its at aesthetically. also william erasure.
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tacks-4-t33th · 1 year
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FUNTIME FOXYYY ♡♡♡
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jumperartsstuff · 8 months
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Robot plushy gone wrong
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neonbug2 · 2 years
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Nymph had a run in with an old foe on an adventure in space 
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corevoid · 2 years
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Corvie got an upgrade :)
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bryan-damage · 1 year
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youtube
Willy's Wonderland (2021)
Movie trailer
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bamsara · 1 year
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"I just wanted to say. Thank you for protecting me"
Eclipse-Centric | Wordcount: 805 | AO3 Version
(Maybe some major spoilers for Solar Lunacy, TW for some robot gore, human injury)
The damage to their body was... extensive. Not life-threatening. But extensive.
You don't know how you're going to fix this right now, but Gramps has a toolbox in the shed, and there's duct tape underneath your kitchen sink, and Eclipse is very, very patient as he sits numbly on your coach, of few words and more looks, as you pluck out charred wires and plastic out of the hole in his arm to the robot that's probably held together less out of reasonable sense and more out of will and magic that you don't understand.
The arm that was torn off has sharp edges in the metal that cut at your fingertips when you try and brush it off, and you don't know if the animatronic feel pain if you were to try and sand it. So, in a comical fashion, you've put an oven mitt over the end of it, taping it to hold its place.
The other arms are laying limp, two on the couch, resting with its palm up in your lap. There's fried wiring around the elbow, dents in the forearm where Monty grabbed him, and openings that you can't tell look like they're from wolf claws or the steel of a knife.
The sight of them makes the wound under your own bandages ache for a moment, but you swallow back the wet soreness in your throat and continue working. The hospital gave you decent pain meds. You needed to stay on task while they were effective.
"Lift, please." You talk quietly, fearing that your voice may crack.
Eclipse doesn't respond, eyes locked onto the television. The news is playing, covering the fire. The sound is low so not to bother you. Still, the animatronic shifts his limbs for you, head turned towards the screen.
There's melted plastic stuck to his forearm, and you're peeling it off with chipped fingernails and whatever willpower you have left, flicking off the pieces onto the carpet to vacuum up later when you have the energy. Leaning back, you gather the duct tape from the coffee table, pulling out a strip to cover the hole in his shoulder.
It's...not what he needs. But it's all you have. All you can do is pick up the pieces and cover up the damage so it doesn't get any worse.
"I'm gonna put this over the opening, okay?" Two long strips are wide enough to cover this 'wound', and it seals the inside of the wiring away. "So nothing gets in your chassis. Or falls out."
Eclipse doesn't make a movement to acknowledge what you said, staring limply with the default smile toward the news broadcaster detailing the company's statement, and it's an estimate of the cost of damages.
Their ability to emote is not currently active, just like their voicebox. Not until they are both fixed. You wish they were active. You wish you could get something, a facial expression, a joke, a sentence, anything. You're taping your friend's fingers together like broken bones only theirs were stuck as claws.
A warmth travels down your face, past your mouth and you don't feel the wetness until it hits your neck. Lips pressed together into a thin line, you rub the tear away. You'll do that on your own time. Not now.
When you blink, you see a shift in the corner of your eye. Eclipse is staring at you now.
Your tongue feels swollen in your mouth. "I, uh-" You busy yourself with his hand, grey-tainted with burned-off paint and scorched sharp points. "I wanted to say thank you for protecting me. You know-" You keep your head low. "Back then."
He looks at you with black eyes and still pupils. The crack in his faceplate feels like guilt and sorrow in your ribcage.
You missed them saying things. You'd be happy for a stupid nickname, even.
The fingers you were treating suddenly tense in your grip, and by instinct, you let them go, until they turn and they fold around your own hand. Long, damaged fingers curl into your own, grasping your hand and holding it along with your wrist.
You freeze as Eclipse leans down, and his faceplate presses against your forehead. Not barely, but heavily, firmly, resting in your hair.
He lingers there as the news broadcast flashes familiar images on the screen, casting different colors on both of you.
You only raise a hand to press your fingertips to the bottom of his faceplate pushing him back as you mummer you needed to remove his ruffled collar so you can clean the soot you've spotted hidden underneath it.
He lets you, but the hand not using the rag stays in his hold, and his other comes up to palm away a warmth that falls from your face and onto your neck again.
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