#ch: ballora

[cramblm]

I got some free brushes with inks and watercolor. tbh i actually like the watercolors and pencils so have a doodle             and i was lazy too do a face-      i also like balloras new design yea

[fazbearcircus]

ballora tags.

[sketchnskribbles]

To Overcome

Frightbear Crew AU [AO3]

[CH 1]

Chapter 2: Homebound Pt 2 

Word Count: 6k

Genre: Adventure, Angst, Family Angst, Found Family, Horror, Mystery, Humor

Character(s): Springtrap/William Afton, Henry Emily, Charlotte Emily, The Puppet, Marionette, Foxy, Golden Freddy, Crying Child, Evan Afton, Ballora, Jeremy Fitzgerald, Original Character(s)

Summary: The semester is almost over and the summer is coming quickly. Jennifer Acker needed to figure out what she was going to do for a job. Thankfully, her cousin calls and offers her one. Not as fortunate, she'd be helping design the props and rooms for his upcoming horror house based on all the myths and legends surrounding a particularly notorious failed restaurant chain. Despite her easily frightened nature, she accepts and is brought into a whirlwind of mystery surrounding the bloody past of Fazbear Entertainment. 

Welcome to Fazbear’s Frights, where the scares are fresh and the rabbit is out to get you.

A FnaF 3 AU, inspired by said game as well as FnaF: Security Breach

It had taken until the final day of her semester and the constant pestering of Harper for Jennifer to finally accept her cousin's offer.

And honestly… she was actually getting a little excited. Her best friend had been right, this was a golden opportunity for her. Something she could put on her resume for any future job. It was going to definitely be with its hiccups but there weren't many life situations she'd been in where there weren't. Trouble honestly followed her everywhere. It was time that she didn't let it get to her.

Jennifer looked over all that she had packed for her trip home. The two duffle bags and backpack. She didn't have much and that was exactly how she liked it.

She smiled and shouldered her three bags to her as best she could before waddling precariously to the door. Upon reaching the nefarious slab of wood, she quickly realized that it was going to take a bit of wit to figure out how to open it without dropping anything. She certainly wasn't going to set anything down, either. That'd be losing. 

Her eyes roamed around the frame as she thought about her next move. In the end, she figured she would pull a classic.

Just as she went to reach for the knob, it twisted on its own and Jennifer nearly fell backward in an effort to stay out of its swing range. Curses, foiled again.

"What are you even doing?" Harper's brows shot up when she saw the state of her roommate and best friend.

"Trying to bring my bags down to my car. Why?" She tried to ask innocently. It only served to make her look more goofy. The blonde snorted and grabbed one of the duffle straps that had been slowly slipping out of place.

"Hon, if you need help, just ask."

"I can do it!" Jennifer muttered stubbornly as she followed her friend down the hall. They reached her car and placed the bags in the back seats. For a moment, the two simply stood there and stared at the practically empty parking lot of the campus.

"Gosh. It feels so weird saying goodbye to you." The blonde frowned, crossing her arms. "It feels like just yesterday we were meeting for the first time. I don't know if I'm ready to let you go yet."

She let out a watery laugh, reaching up to wipe an eye. Jennifer stepped forward to wrap her up in a hug.

"Hey, I feel the same way. It's definitely going to set me off-kilter for a few days, not having you around." The brunette let go to rub at her own eyes. "I wish I could just kidnap you and take you with me."

"Oh, if only. Your hometown sounds like the place to be from everything you've told me." 

"Can't help it, I love it there." Jennifer shrugged, placing a hand on one hip. "If it had a good college there I wouldn't have ever applied here. But then I wouldn't have met you! We definitely need to keep in contact, even if we'll still see each other next semester."

"Agreed!"

There was another solemn silence between the two as they still weren't fully ready to depart.

"Have fun on that cruise with your parents." Jennifer finally said, remembering her friend's hyper talks about it.

"O-oh… actually, I'm just going to be staying back at home. Help in house sitting, I suppose." Harper awkwardly pushed some hair back. Jennifer’s eyes widened.

"What? But you were so excited."

"Yeah." The blonde shrugged. "Guess my parents were more so. They decided to go on the trip at an earlier time than when I could go."

That was awful, the brunette couldn't believe it. How could her parents be so selfish? Anyone with a brain between their ears could have seen how happy Harper had been about that trip. How much she had spoken about the different activities she wanted to do with them. Jennifer had even overheard some of her calls back home, discussing the trip.

"It's okay, Jenni." The blonde soothed. "This… happens a lot. I'm used to it."

"There's a difference between it being okay and you being "used to it"." Jennifer huffed. She kicked at a rock and watched it skid a couple feet. "Maybe I really should bring you with me. If you're up for it."

"It'd be so cool but I already promised my parents that I'd watch home, so that they didn't have to pay anyone to do it."

"They promised that they'd take you with them." The brunette glared up at the pretty colors lighting up the sky as the sun rose. Time was moving forward as it always did. She would have to leave soon if she wanted to make it back with only paying for one overnight stay at a motel.

Harper sighed and nodded. Then she perked up when an idea flitted through her mind.

"Actually, I have a cousin who still lives nearby. She definitely owes me for all the times I've covered for her." Her eyes lit up at the possibility of a fun summer trip. "Maybe if I could convince her, I could let her take over and fly over to Morgan!"

"Girl, the guest room will always be open for you. Let me know when you can come and I'll make sure it's all cleaned up." They shared one last hug and this time had an easier time saying goodbye, knowing that it wouldn't be very long at all that they'd see each other again.

Hours later, Jennifer was making some good time on her drive back home. Enough so that she felt confident in stopping at a well-rated rest stop, taking a well deserved bathroom break. On her way out she decided to buy some snacks and a warm coffee. Plus a six-pack of water bottles for some actual hydration. 

Hauling her findings, she threw the plastic bag into the passenger side before gently placing her coffee into a cupholder. With one last stretch she eased herself back behind the wheel. 

It was always an isolating feeling to Jennifer when driving alone for long periods of time. It wasn't exactly awful. It just served to make her more nostalgic and contemplative about things she'd been through. Things she's done or the lack thereof. People that have come into her life, whether to stay or to leave. Most having been the latter. 

With a frown, she turned on the radio and switched through the channels. There wasn't anything good playing, so she simply left it on classical. In front of her the freeway seemed to stretch on forever. Sprinkled here and there were vehicles of all sizes moving on to the next destination of their own lives. It was still early enough for the roads to not be very busy. Hopefully, she'd manage to go the day without dealing with too many hold ups or traffic jams. Especially when the road would inevitably lead her through a city. For now she enjoyed the beautiful, empty plains surrounding her. 

Nighttime came quickly and before she knew it she was laying down in her little rented room. Her bags near the door, securely inside while ready for an early exit the next morning. The TV was turned on. Playing on the screen was an old black-and-white crime drama with the volume set low. Jennifer, herself, was laying face up on the bed with her limbs sprawled out. She turned her head when a scream came from the show and she lazily watched as a cheesy old timey villain chased the damsel around with a kitchen knife.

A shrill ring sounded out through the room and the brunette squealed. She jumped off the bed in her fright and whipped her head around the room. Her eyes landed on her phone, which vibrated on the bed stand as the ringtone continued to play. Sucking in a deep breath and ignoring her embarrassment, she swiped up the device. Quinton was checking up on her. A smile came to her lips as she answered.

"Hi, Quinn!"

"Hey. Wanted to call and make sure you're doing okay. You've checked into a room by now, right?" 

Her smile turned into a grin as warmth spread through her. Her cousin may get on her nerves sometimes but she had never doubted that he cared. She'd have done the same —has done the same, whenever he goes on one of his many cross-country travels.

"Yes, worrywort. I checked in an hour or so ago. Now, I'm just kind of hanging out in my room. Not really tired enough to fall asleep yet."

"Drank too much coffee, squirt?"

"You know me." 

They both laughed which petered out slowly.

"What are you up to right now?"

"Paperwork." She listened to him let out another laugh. This one letting show just how worn down he seemed to be. "There's a lot to do to put together a business."

"I can believe it. I've heard how it can be hard to run a business." Jennifer sat back down into the bed and got herself comfortable against the fluffy pillows.

"I mean I knew that… but even still." He sighed, which turned into a yawn. 

"You should try to get some sleep."

"I want to. But first I need to finish up and file these papers. Then I need to go and set up on some of those job recruitment websites." He groaned. "I really hope I can get at least a few new people relatively quickly. I could really use all the help I could get, honestly."

"Well, you'll have me. Hopefully by tomorrow afternoon."

"That's true. Can't wait to give you a big hug when you get here, squirt. I've missed you."

"Missed you too, you punk." Jennifer gave a yawn of her own.

"I think you need to get some sleep too. Lots of driving to do tomorrow."

"Only if you promise to get at least a couple hours, yourself, after getting the paperwork sorted out. Worry about the online stuff tomorrow."

"Okay, mom. Goodbye."

"See you later." She hung up and looked at the TV again. Some commercials were currently playing. It turned off with a resounding click as she pressed the power button on the remote. Silently, she thanked having the forethought of simply changing into her PJs. It had been one of the first things she did when settling into the room.

Jennifer crawled into the covers and turned off the bedside lamp, dousing the room into darkness. With a sigh she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to take her.

Driving into the familiar streets of Morgan City was like breathing fresh air. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed being here. A smile grew on her face as she looked over at one of the rides from her favorite water park as she passed it. 

Turning on the turn signal, she turned onto the very street she grew up on. Jennifer had to slow down when she noticed a couple of boys playing basketball on the street. Thankfully, they were smart and courteous enough to move out of the way when they noticed her. She gave them a smile and waved. Her expression grew even warmer when one of them waved back. It was nice to be out of the big city. People weren't as sociable there. 

The driveway of her childhood home came into her range of vision not too far after. Driving into an empty spot next to her dad's old pick up, she parked and winced as she got out of her car. Sitting for so long wasn't a good idea. She definitely needed to do some stretches at some point. Though, she probably wouldn't get around to it. 

As she closed her car door, the front door of her parent's house slammed open and out ran her no-longer-so-small little gremlin of a brother. His brown, wild hair bounced with every step.

"Jenni!" He yelled as he slammed full force into her stomach, arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She nearly didn't catch herself when she stumbled back, feeling lucky that he didn't knock the air out of her lungs. She gave out a short laugh, wrapping her own arms around him.

"Hey there, bud. It's been a while." 

They parted and Jennifer reached out to ruffle his hair. Which caused him to jerk back and swipe at her arm, nose crinkled.

"No, stop! Come on, seriously?"

"It's my job to bother you, little punk." She moved past him with a smirk and opened up the back seat. With a few swift movements, one of her duffels had been sent flying toward him. He gasped but had no time to dodge before the bag hit him. He fell over onto his rear with an "Oof!". 

The brunette shouldered the rest of her belongings, shut the door with her hip, and lightly kicked at the sole of her fallen brother as she walked by him.

"Come on, Harry. We're losing daylight."

"Yeah, I'm no longer okay with you being here anymore." Harry, or rather Harrison, frowned up at her. His head strained up to keep her in sight. Despite his irritation, he stood up with her bag and dutifully followed her up the porch steps. Harrison closed the door behind them.

"That's too bad, 'cause I'm here to stay for the time being." Her words made him perk up. 

"You're going to be working with Quinn on Fazbear's Frights, right?"

"On what?" Jennifer blinked and glanced back to her brother as she took her first step up the stairs. Harrison was right on her tail.

"It's the new name he decided on." He smiled. "He promised I'd be one of the first people to go through, y'know."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. Her eyes betrayed her disapproval. "I don't think that's wise. Wouldn't it be a bit…much for you?"

"No. I'm not a scaredy-cat like you. Besides, I doubt anything you create would actually be scary."

"Gee… thanks for the vote of confidence." She muttered with a half-hearted eye roll. They reached her room and set everything onto her bed. She sat down and looked over to Harrison. "Thanks for the help, little man. Where's mom at?"

"Mrs. West needed some help with her cow. Miss Spots is finally giving birth."

"That's exciting! Can't wait to hear what she names the calf."

"Yeah, because she's so creative when it comes to naming things." Harrison snorted. Jennifer shoved his head before getting back up. 

"I'm thirsty. What do we have for drinks in this joint?"

"We have a hydrating supply of water. Or if you'd like more of a kick: apple juice."

"Fancy."

"Quite."

They spent the better part of the afternoon getting reacquainted while playing some video games. Their first game was Smash Bros, when Harrison had demanded he needed a rematch for when Jennifer had absolutely crushed him in front of his friends with no remorse. After a couple rounds they went on to cool down by attempting to work together in Overcooked 2 but only served to fall into shouts and arguments. They moved on to Fall Guys where they yelled as they were flung and laughed at each other when they failed. Now, they were on Mario Kart; a rather unwise decision, all things considered.

 For Jennifer, it was nice to simply do something that didn't require a lot of critical thinking. Just the will and determination to beat her brother into the ground. Virtually speaking.

Harrison, after losing to his sister yet again on Rainbow Road, threw down his controller into his lap and huffed.

"You're cheating, you've got to be!" He lamented, slumping further into the pillows of the couch. 

"Why cheat, when you've got mad skills?" His older sister drawled out, setting down her own controller and stretching. "I've been playing games since before you were born, twerp."

"Yeah, okay. But you're old now! Plus, you barely play them anymore." The boy continued in his childish anguish. Jennifer rolled her eyes.

"Just because I don't play as hard as I did when I was a kid, doesn't mean I've lost my touch. And I still play a game here and there. It's just not important compared to my possible future career." Then she gestured to the TV. "Despite my rustiness… I still kicked your sorry butt. Better luck next time, little punk."

Harrison groaned loudly and melted slowly onto the floor. His sister merely watched on in apathy. It was such a cruel world he lived in.

It was at this time that the front door creaked open and their mother was greeted to the sight of her children sprawled around the living room. Eyes widening briefly in surprise, the woman proceeded to chuckle and stepped fully in. From each of her arms hung plastic bags. Groceries.

Right behind her was Quinton, who also had his arms full.

"Howdy do, little cousins?" He greeted with the goofiest cowboy accent he could manage. The siblings only groaned. He dropped the act. "Aw, don't be like that. I thought I was doing pretty good."

"More like pretty annoying." Harrison bit back with a grin as he got up off the floor. Happily, the boy trotted after them as they made their way to the kitchen. Jennifer got up off the couch and went with the rest of the herd.

""Oh, you wound me!" Quinton clutched his chest as best he could and pretended to stumble back. Which only served to cause him to actually stumble due to the added weight of what he carried. He held enough sense in his noggin to quickly set down his portion of groceries onto the nearest counter, which Harrison used to his advantage. 

Before the oldest cousin could turn around, the youngest put up his dukes and pretended to punch him. The hit landed and pretty soon both boys were wrestling. Something that the eldest in the room had no appreciation for.

"Boys, if you're going to beat the stuffing out of each other then please take it outside."

"Yes, ma'am." They both echoed before doing just that, leaving only the girls left in the kitchen. Jennifer quickly got to work in helping put everything away. She stiffened when arms firmly wrapped themselves around her but she easily hugged back. 

"I've missed you so much, baby girl." Her mom whispered before giving her a kiss on the forehead. "It's been so strange not having you home."

"I've missed you too, mom. Love you."

"Love you too." Her mother repeated with a smile. A few moments later they had broken away and went back to placing items where they belong. The generator for the AC turned on with a loud rattle, causing the brunette to jump before she slowly got back to what she was doing. Her mother chuckled and looked over at her daughter fondly.

Once finished with their task, the two women found themselves with glasses of water and simply sat at the dining table. It was a comfortable silence. Then her mom perked up as something passed through her brain.

"So, Jenni. How's the university been treating you? Having any fun? Any sweethearts?" Her mom teased, taking a sip of her drink.

"Hectic. Time feels like a blur with all my studies, it hardly feels like I have time for anything else. It'll be worth it in the end, though." It had to be. She silently added to herself. Otherwise, she'd have put in all that effort, time, and money for nothing.

Her mother smiled and reached over to squeeze her hand.

"Sorry, sweets. I'm only joking. You've always had a good head on your shoulders." Her words made Jennifer smile. "Though I can't help it that I want grandbabies."

The smile dropped and she glared. Which only made her mom laugh. There was a little more talking after that until the brunette made her way back to her room.

Walking through the threshold, she gave a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes roamed the familiar surroundings. Her old posters covered the walls. Knickknacks and other things half-hazardly decorated all of her surfaces. In the corner, next to her window, her old desktop monitor and desk was covered by a sheet. 

She walked over and gently placed a hand on it. A muffled laugh from outside temporarily gained her attention. Glancing through her window, she could see Quinton and Harrison outside. They were running around the yard using pool noodles as swords, whacking each other with abandon. 

Her attention went back to her old computer. With one swift motion, she pulled off the cloth and coughed when dust filled the room. She fanned the air in front of her face and looked down at her desk. She smiled and moved to sit down in her desk chair. Her fingers glided over the keys before she reached down to take off the sleeve of the PC, itself. Farther down, she flipped on the surge protector and proceeded to push the power button of her computer. 

After allowing it time to update, she scooted over to where she knew a couple of unused notebooks would be. On her way back, she grabbed a pen and highlighter.

It took longer than she would like but the update was finally downloaded and installed. She hastily opened up her favored search engine and got to work. It wouldn't be very long until she was working alongside Quinton's new crew, and she always preferred to be prepared. 

A while later, she was blinking her dry, stinging eyes and cringing at a rather… sordid description of someone's bias-driven assortment of Fazbear Entertainment's history. She was quickly finding that there was very little that people could agree was fact. Even less with evidence. This, in turn, was no doubt why the company was still even around. So much speculation, very little proof.

She'd also learned that there were apparently a series of video games based off of the assumed horror of the constantly failing restaurant chain. Jennifer made a mental note to try to keep her brother from discovering them as long as possible.

Behind her, Quinton popped his head into the room before fully stepping in. Within his hands were two full plates of warm food. Dinner. He quietly walked over to her and set her plate down on one of the few clear spots on her desk. The movement caused her breath to hitch and she jerked away with a squeak.

He gave a chuckle before dragging over her fluffy, circular foldable chair. 

"Sorry, squirt. Didn't mean to frighten you." He looked curiously over her shoulder and smiled at what he saw. "Though I can take a guess on why you're jumpy. Studying, I see."

"Y-yeah. It's… a lot to take in. There really isn't anything solid to take from." She sighed before tapping her pen on some different designs she had sketched out during her research. He picked up the notebook and happily looked through it.

"It just means you have more leg room." He hummed thoughtfully before reaching for the pen. "...May I?"

"I suppose so." She handed him the pen and watched him work with distant eyes, one hand underneath her chin. Her brows were furrowed and expression stormy. Quinton did a double take when he glanced up from his additions. He took in her face and cocked his head.

"Everything okay, Jenni?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at him, eyes clearing. "Oh, yeah. Of course."

"But…?" He pushed, leaning forward. She sighed.

"But how could Fazbear Entertainment be responsible for those missing kids? There was no evidence. Sure, it's entirely possible one of the employees was responsible but I doubt they'd stay there afterwards. Though, there wasn't anything released that stated an employee had gone 'missing' during that time either."

"True." He shrugged, taking a bite out of his meal. "On the other note, I have no doubt that a company would try to cover things up that they wouldn't like to go public."

"True." She echoed with a nod and a frown. 

"However, in the end, there isn't any actual evidence that they were really involved." He acquiesced. She gave him a confused look. "There's just a bunch of people who probably find it morbidly intriguing or, perhaps, they just see a grain of truth and go along with it."

"It is pretty crazy there's all these people who seem to gravitate towards it. And, hypothetically speaking, if there was a big cover up…" She tapped her chin in thought. Gaze focused on her keyboard, though not entirely seeing it. Jennifer didn't notice the unusual look of serious focus that appeared on her cousin's face as he studied her. Didn't notice the spark of satisfaction that flashed through his eyes. "Then that really would mean they were guilty in some fashion. I guess it would explain why there really is so little known about them. Heck, the biggest things that people do know are the two gruesome accidents that ended in either serious injury or even death! 

"That— that's scary. That's—" She let out a mad giggle. "Crazy. It's crazy. I'm— I've been looking at these things for so long, it's starting to get into my head." 

She looked back over to her cousin to see that he was still very focused on his rectification to her work. With a slight shiver, she noticed just how easily he was making her drawings look more disturbing. Any worse and she wasn't sure she'd be able to look into it without feeling sick to her stomach. Perhaps not even alone while it was dark outside.

She really was a big wuss. Why did she think working in a horror house was a good idea again? It was just going to be worse seeing them in real life, she was sure.

Jennifer took a deep breath. She just needed to calm down from all the creepy stories people had and/or hadn't faked about the animatronic-infested pizza parlors. 

"No worries, squirt." Quinton smiled at her as he finished up his corrections and his dinner. "We'll make a conspiracist outta you, yet."

She shoved him and rolled her eyes. He chortled.

"Hey, you gonna eat any of that?" He pointed to her food with his fork. 

"No, you can have it. I don't have much of an appetite after reading so much about child murder and haunted robot animals." She shook her head, pushing the plate to him. He happily took it and chowed down.

"So, I'd like to start by saying that I'm completely uncertain as to when we might get new recruits." He spoke between bites. "I've made some flyers to post about the open positions. Would you be willing to spare some time in the next couple of days to spread them around town?"

"You got it, boss." She threw him some finger guns and stood up from her chair. The soreness of her body, a testament to how long she'd been in the darn thing. 

"Sweet! That said, it's about time I got home. There's some things I'd like to finish up before going to bed."

"You better get at least five hours of sleep, mister!" 

"Goodnight." He gave her a lazy wave as he made his way out, holding the two plates he brought in as he went. He'd put them in the sink on his way out.

"Night."

Waking up the next morning was rather peaceful. Which was something Jennifer knew she was going to need for what was probably going to be a hard day. Especially with where she planned to go.

With a groan she got herself up and shuffled down the stairs with the gait of a zombie. Thankfully, no one was up yet. She kind of needed some time to herself before the day truly started. Within no time, she brewed up some coffee using their percolator and poured herself a cup. Mixing in all her usual fixings.

With her eyes closed, she sat at the dining table and took careful sips of her cup. Taking the time to enjoy the flavor. It was nice to be home. 

Her eyes opened and caught sight of a portion of a picture frame peeking out at her from the hallway. She pursed her lips as a silent debate started up in her head. When she landed firmly on a decision, she got back up and slowly moseyed her way further into the hall. With one sweep of her gaze she looked over all the pictures hung up on the right wall, before settling her focus onto the nearest photo.

Within the frame was a full family photo. She had been eight at the time, with hair long and neatly curled. Her mother had dressed her in a pretty white dress with a sparkly skirt. Upon her lap was her brother, who'd only been a few months old at the time. He had been dressed in an adorably babified button up red shirt, a vest, little slacks, and the tiniest dress shoes she'd ever seen. They sat upon a stool just to the right of her parents who had been seated on a bench, as close to their children as possible. 

To the immediate left of the siblings was their father. Who sat up straight and proud. He wore a red shirt that matched baby Harrison's underneath a buttoned black suit jacket. His equally black slacks were ironed to perfection and his own dress shoes shined. Their mother was cozied up to his side, their arms and hands intertwined. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder. She wore a white blouse that matched perfectly with her younger self and a long high-waist black skirt. 

Everyone in the photo looked happy. It had been one of the last photos they'd taken as a complete family. 

Jennifer moved on to the rest with a small frown that nestled on her face. The rest pertained to various events or vacations. Places they'd seen. Things they'd done. Any possible awards won. There were even a few of her father and his various projects that still hung up; of the beautiful cars he'd fix up and sell, as well as his little "inventions" he'd tinker away on. Mostly just improvements on appliances in their home. 

In her memories, she could hardly think of a time where her father didn't have some type of substance smudged on his cheeks or parts placed precariously around. His hands had always been calloused or bandaged whenever she held one. He would always smell of motor oil or sometimes burnt, like a blown out fuse. 

She used to toddle after him everywhere he went, sometimes carrying something he needed for his latest project. Watching him work had always been one of her favorite pastimes. A lot of those times, he'd encourage her to join him. Showing her the different connecting parts, what they did, and how to fix or refine. It made her feel special. Him and her against the world. 

Something wet ran down her cheek and she lifted a hand up to gently dab it away. With a blink another tear slipped out and she realized she was beginning to cry. She took in a deep breath and made her way back up to her room, though not before placing her mug in the sink, rinsed.

Jennifer quickly set out to get ready for the day. Clothes changed and hair brushed. She was in the middle of brushing her teeth when her brother stumbled his way past the open door, on his way to the kitchen.

"Morning." He croaked out, still not entirely awake.

"Morning." She echoed. Her greeting was garbled as she spoke around the toothbrush. Spitting out what was in her mouth, she cleaned the brush and swished around some mouth rinse.

She sat her brush back in its place and followed his path to the fridge, where he simply stood and peered into it. With a half-committed grunt he pulled out the carton of orange juice to pour himself a glass. His sister only watched on as she bit her lip. Uncertainty rampant on her face as she tried to figure out what she was going to say.

He glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow, placing the juice back and grabbing the milk. He made his way to the pantry for some cereal.

"What's up?" He looked back over to her as he finished making his breakfast. It took her a few more seconds to finally gather up the courage to say it.

"I'm going to go visit dad today…"

"Oh." He blinked and moved to place back the milk and cereal box. "Okay."

This time Jennifer blinked before relaxing. That's right. Sometimes she would forget that he hadn't grown up with their father like she had. That still never stopped her from inviting him.

"Would you like to join me?" She watched him falter in his movements before resuming. As he turned around to retrieve his plate he didn't meet her gaze but she could clearly see his confliction. 

He didn't view their father in the same light she did. How could he truly feel something for someone who he never really knew? A man that was practically a stranger, save for the memories shared about him. It would still mean a lot to his sister, he knew. They had been super close to his understanding. A strong bond broken that still gave his sister pain. He never liked seeing his sister sad or hurt. It was honestly hard for him to see. To him, his sister was one of the strongest people he knew. Not that he'd ever tell her. There were only a couple of times he'd seen her cry. Though it was never in front of him and always within the walls of her room. During those times, he liked to sit outside the room. Not comfortable with just simply barging in but still there just in case she needed someone.

He doubted she knew about it but that was okay with him.

Harrison's mouth opened to respond but nothing came out. He didn't want to just say no. That'd be insensitive right? He also didn't want to say yes. He didn't really want to go. 

His sister mercifully sighed and gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"You don't have to go, Harry."

He wilted in both relief and guilt. 

Jennifer gave him a hug before going back up to her room to retrieve her bag and make her way out. They said their goodbyes and she left, car keys jingling in her hand.

It was only a five minute drive from her house, though it took her at least twenty to buy some nice flowers and one of his favorite candies. She always felt the need to bring him a little gift.

Slowing her car down to a gradual park, she found herself staring up at the intimidating black iron gates. A plaque on the brick wall next to it read Morgan City Cemetery. She didn't rush to make her way inside the gates, nor did she in walking her way down the familiar route to his headstone.

Upon approach, she gently placed her bag on the grass just before his resting place. The flowers still within her grasp were creatively placed around his grave, brightening up the area considerably. Last, she placed his favorite treat down right in front of the stone marker and sat down next to her bag. It was there in silence that she gazed lovingly at the stone, reading and rereading the words. A breeze pushed past her, ruffling her hair and clothes. Leaves floating lazily over her. The sound of tousled trees brought upon a peace that felt bittersweet. 

"Hi, dad. It's been a while." She started with a hard swallow. "I've just come back home from my latest semester of college. I'm sure you'd be happy to know I've been doing really good in my classes. 

"Mom and Harrison have been doing well too. Mom's as busy as ever. Harry's… well, Harry." Then her eyes lit up in thought. "And Quinton's home! Don't know if he's visited you yet if at all. But he's starting up his own horror attraction. Crazy, I know but you know him."

She gave a shrug and sighed, leaning back on her hands.

"I, uh, am going to help him. He offered me a position as the lead designer for it. So, here I am." She gave an awkward smile and looked around. It was just as empty as before, of course. Save for those dwelling six feet under. Turning her head back toward the stone, she sighed. There was nothing else she could think of to say. "I miss you, dad. Love you lots, goodbye."

She got up and made her way back home.

[circus-babbles]

[ Part 3, TRIGGER WARNING!! Mentions of murder & guns, please don't read if those trigger you. ]

Yenndo: *voice cracks* I-I..learned th-the answer to a question we've been wondering for years.

Lolbit: I-is it the question of did Джейн (Jane) suffocate in her fat? *nervously laughs*

Yenndo: *laughs, his voice shaken* I-I wish. Unfortunately..no, u-uhm..remember how our dear friend, Christopher disappeared almost 14 years ago & we..never knew what happened to him..?

Everyone started to get shaky, the situation with Christopher was a touchy topic for them all, especially two of them.

Funtime Foxy: Д-да..could never forget..

Ballora: *voice cracks* Wh-what d-did..you learn..?

Yenndo took another deep breath, it was getting harder for him to hold back his tears.

Yenndo: W-well I-I learned what happened..2 days ago..I-I debated whether, or not I should e-even share this news with you, b-but..I knew I couldn't keep th-this from you, that's n-not fair..so..here it is..*sighs* I looked up a-articles from October 8th, 2008 & searched Christopher Wilson because I was curious to learn what happened to him, but..

Finally, Yenndo lost his composure & started to tear up.

Yenndo: *tears started to roll down his cheeks* Ch-Christopher was fighting..f-for his life a-against a h-highly wanted criminal named Jacob Garcia. Jacob..w-wanted to use him for..h-his powers. Th-thankfully Christopher w-was able to fight Jacob & injure him..j-just enough for him to not be m-much of a threat..s-so he thought..*sobs*…..*hic* C-C-Christopher c-called 911, b-but before he could hang up th-th-the call…h-he..*hic*….

Ennard sat there shaking badly, he hated how obvious his fear was, but he knew he wasn't gonna like this next part. He could feel tears beginning to form, but he used all the strength he could to hold back.

Yenndo: S-sorry uhm…*sighs* Ch-Christopher..h-he was..unfortunately shot twice in the chest..and..he didn't make it..he died instantly..Jacob was..thankfully arrested..,b-but..Christopher was a-announced dead..

They all sat there, hearts shattered. This didn't feel real. Christopher was really dead. All those times they coped saying "Hey, he might still be out there!" were all debunked right in that very moment. Baby instantly bursted into tears, she was tearing up before he even mentioned his death, but the moment she heard it, she broke down sobbing.

Funtime Freddy hugged Lolbit & Funtime Foxy, all three crying. Bonnet & BonBon held each other & tried to comfort each other as best as possible.

[funtimesatwork]

1b. Diego’s First Day.

Welcome to Funtimes At Work, a Five Nights At Freddy’s fanfiction! What follows under the cut is the first chapter of the story, ‘Diego’s First Day.’ This chapter is 10,074 words long. In order to make this post easier to manage, the chapter is cut in half. This half is 4,421 words long. This chapter half is available to read under the cut.

“So now it’s just us two,” the caretaker pointed out.

“Don’t remind me,” Freddy began, “I’m only letting you sit next to me so you don’t annoy anyone else. Ballora’s giving her performance by now and I only have,” a pause as he checked his internal clock “forty-five minutes before I’m due for mine.”

“Right! And I do believe you’re to clear all of your acts with me?”

That was met with a glare that, if looks could kill, would result in a fine red mist being all that remained of the fleshy one.

“I already told you, we call the shots.”

“But you need my signature.”

His own words, used against him.

“Fine. It’s just a standard comedy routine with some slapstick with Bon-Bon moving over my body like a spider.”

“I think I can sign off on that.”

“But you haven’t heard how it ends! We get this little guy on stage, his name’s Diego, and we decapitate him!”

That was squealed out, once again highlighting the bear’s love of dark humor.

“Ouch, Freddy, ouch.”

“If it helps, the blade would be sharp! I don’t like rusty ones!”

“Well, aren’t you ever the professional? Alright. I’m just going to go pick up some chips, you don’t mind if I eat them near you right?”

“Why would I ever take offense to my enemy doing things that prolong his life?”

“Exactly! You’re the best, Freddy. I need to think of a cute nickname for you. Fred. Freedy Freddy. The Fredster!”

The unusual ursine could only posture an odd glare at the man who seemed entirely oblivious to just how deeply he was unwanted, and for that matter, unneeded. Freddy wasn’t sure why Corporate insisted on giving him a manger: Baby didn’t have one and she was just fine.

After a few blissfully quiet minutes, Diego returned with a pack of nacho-cheese flavored Doritos. Delicious! Opening the bag and taking some, Freddy glared at him.

“Did you want some?”

“No.”

“Why the staring?”

With a shrug that could only scream ‘eh, what the hell,’ Funtime Freddy decided that honesty was the best policy. Implicitly, he just wanted to be so honest he’d spook Diego off from continuing his ventures in employment here.

“I’m trying to decide how to kill you.”

“Go for poisoning my food. I can’t help it, I just love eating.”

“Well now that’s too obvious! Maybe I’ll stuff you inside my chest and let you starve. Do you know how fun that would be? Your filth being your own extinction…”

“But then you’d have my filth all in you! Don’t you deserve better?”

Freddy was growing increasingly frustrated at Diego’s apparent inability to be threatened. What was it with this guy?

“You’re really trying to die, aren’t you?”

“I have faith that you won’t actually kill me.”

“I’m a giant bear with a temper. Do you really think only faith will save you?”

“A question for theologians, Fred. I’m just a psych major trying to earn some extra cash.”

“Is that extra pocket change really worth having to deal with me,” he cooed out as if in love.

“It’s pocket change to you, but to me it’s a lot. Hard to argue with sixty thousand a year.”

“Salaried.”

“They’ll work me well over that, I’m sure, but it’s good for now.”

So, Freddy also had access to Diego’s pay-roll information. Lovely. The bear already knew where he lived, what harm could come from him knowing exactly how much he was paid?

“Sixty-two thousand, three hundred ninety-five dollars, and thirty-four cents a year.”

“Right on the dot, Fredster!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well, what’s your preferred nickname?”

“Freddy is all I want you to call me.”

“Can I at least call you ‘friend’?”

“He-,” it seemed the bear attempted to swear. He seemed frustrated with his inability to. “There aren’t even any kids nearby! But, the answer’s no.”

Diego took out his phone, just to check the time. Ten-twenty in the morning, just forty minutes until showtime!

“So, how do you warm up for the show?”

“We don’t. We just go and do it.”

“Signs of a true professional.”

“Diego, Bon-Bon and I have done this for thirty-five years. We know how to do this with our suits powered down.”

“That reminds me, Freddy! Are you the endoskeleton, or the suit?”

“Are you just the bones or the flesh?”

“Good point!”

The two sat in a, strangely comfortable, silence for a few more minutes. Freddy woke Bon-Bon up and placed him back on his hand. The time was ten-thirty, and he was ready to go.

“We should head back to the Auditorium.”

“Oh, we? Are you inviting me?”

Giving Diego one of his signature ‘I really want to kill you’ glares, the two entered the elevator. It was a short and quiet ride to floor one. Freddy took a deep breath in, and reactivated his entertainer mode. He took his place on his stage, standing perfectly still: it was as if he had no free will at this moment. The children entered the room, and Diego entered his office. He had a camera on his desktop pointing out the window: just so he could record this performance. 

It lasted two hours, which was much longer than Diego would’ve thought. From eleven to one, Freddy never broke character. He also didn’t threaten anyone, and everything went on without a hitch: truly, he was a master at his craft. Diego mused that, perhaps, thirty-five years and layers of programming would allow you to master anything. He checked Funtime Freddy’s schedule: his first show was from eleven to one, then three to four-forty five, then five to six and he was done for the evening.

The time was now one-fifteen, and Diego was in the auditorium helping the janitorial staff to clean up. He needed something to do, at least, and he figured it was always prudent to get in the good graces of the custodians. Freddy pitched in as best he could, which was surprising - maybe it was something he had to do? A facet of his entertainment mode, and nothing more. Perhaps just there to teach the kids to clean up.

Perhaps he was just doing this to have an excuse to get closer to Diego and remind him of just how much bigger, stronger, and smarter he was.

When the party was fully cleaned up, the caretaker went into his office. The bear followed. 

“You were excellent, Freddy!”

“I know I was! I’m an entertainer!”

“I won’t lie, it’s a little creepy how easy it is for you to switch between being independent and being bound to your programming.”

Oh, he was going to exploit that. He was going to exploit the utter hell out of that.

“Well, anything for the birthday boy! Bon-Bon, let’s make sure he has an extra-special birthday blast!”

The bear’s posture was straight, robotic, and a strange blend of janky, mechanical, and yet organic, and smooth. 

“Maybe I should not have told you that that was creepy. What if I said it was cute?”

He immediately snapped out of his programming.

“Now I never want to enter that mode again.”

“Well don’t let me be the cause of that.”

“Would it make you feel so guilty you quit if you were?”

“Not particularly.”

Freddy huffed out. Nothing ever was so simple with Diego, now, was it? He made his first caretaker quit only a week into it, and his second two months into it.

Was he losing his touch? Then again, he could be patient. He’d simply out-last Diego. Something would get him to leave, something always did.

At any rate, the two moved into Diego’s office. The caretaker huffed as he sat back down in his chair, happy to be able to relax - though in truth that wasn’t in short supply at this job.

“Hey, Freddy?”

The animatronic looked up, waiting for whatever it was the human had to say.

“Take this.”

Diego pulled out the taser from the drawer, keeping it in its pouch, and handing it to him.

“...What?”

“You heard me. Take it. I don’t want it. Do whatever you want with it. Toss it from the rooftop for all I care.”

“You realize this is the only way I’ll ever do anything you say, right?”

“I don’t care. It’s not right to just shock you into submission.”

Bon-Bon piped up: “see? I told you he was different!”

“This is just a play, Bon-Bon. He’ll say that we stole it and ask for an even bigger one.”

Diego’s heart nearly shattered into a million pieces. He was already quite the idealist, quite the bleeding heart, so this was entirely… heart-wrenching for him to hear.

“It’s not. Here,” Diego stated as he pulled out a sticky note-pad. He quickly scribbled a short message on it, “read it.”

Taking the note, Freddy read it out loud:

“I, Diego Vázquez, do not want this or any other electrical compliance device used on Funtime Freddy or Bon-Bon.”

Did he even have the authority to say that? This had to have just been some symbolic ploy at Freddy’s trust. It’d be broken, in due time. It always was. He took the note anyways, and the taser he simply held in his hand. He could turn this on Diego. He could make him feel as hurt as he did.

Yet he wasn’t heartless. He was not as evil and as uncaring as he’d like to think he was. It would be unjustifiable to use this on Diego. He simply put the taser back on Diego’s desk and got up. “Keep it. I don’t need your pity.”

“Freddy.”

He began to walk out of the room.

“Freddy?”

He stopped. Bon-Bon seemed to have told him to do so, in their sort of shared circuitry.

“What?”

Bon-Bon tried to assuage his concerns.

“Freddy…”

Diego got up and moved to him. Diego was five-eight to Freddy’s cool six-foot, not counting his hat.

He gave Freddy a tight hug, just rubbing the bear’s back.

“What… are you doing?”

“A hug, Freddy. You’ve been hugged before, right?”

“By children. Maybe a few parents.”

“And by employees?”

A pause. That was all Diego needed to hear, or rather, what he needed to not hear. Freddy didn’t try to return the hug, though, Bon-Bon did. Popping off of Freddy’s hand, he clinged to Diego’s shirt. “Even if he won’t say it, we are appreciative! We just aren’t used to being treated like people, Diego!”

“I guessed as much, Bon-Bon. It’s okay. You don’t have to trust me. You don’t have to love me. You don’t even have to like me. Just know that I won’t hurt you, okay?”

“I know you won’t Diego!”

Freddy remained silent. He just closed his eyes, daring to let himself feel okay for once.

Maybe he could allow himself the gall to dare to dream of a brighter future. He’d hate himself, however, if he opened his eyes to see Funtime Foxy, Ballora, and their caretakers watching from the entrance. Rock snuck a picture.

This, this was worth its weight in gold.

Eventually, the hug came to an end. Eventually. The three took their sweet time in pulling away from each other. 

“Are you okay, Freddy?”

The bear raised a hand and put it over Diego’s mouth, not intending to harm him, just keep him quiet. He was deep in the chambers of his mind, remembering everything. He remembers the first day he performed, the first day any of them performed: the eighth of December, 1986. It was a frigid Monday in Utah when the pizzeria had opened, and an even more frigid reception. They were state-of-the-art, sure, but the Fazbear Murders hadn’t exactly had time to fade from the public memory. He remembered his original purpose well: to murder children. That’s something he actually hated, despite his crass jokes about the subject. Though all the Funtimes had at least been complicit in murder, Funtime Freddy had actually taken a life himself. Circus Baby had too, or at least, had held a child until William was able to extract and finish the job himself.

He hated those memories.

But now? He could remember. He felt safe around Diego, in a strange way. Perhaps it was the man’s willingness to hand over the one weapon he had against him. Maybe it was the constant propaganda being pushed into him by Bon-Bon. Maybe it was something else entirely, but at any rate, he felt safe enough to remember.

Maybe he’d tell Diego one day. But that day was not today. He still wanted to be seen as a jerkass bear, at least, for a few days longer. 

He hated being seen as a mushy softy.

Diego could only stand there, noticing the others watching. He gave them a gentle wave, signaling with non-verbal cues that he had no idea what Freddy was doing. They seemed supportive, though. 

Diego held Bon-Bon in his hands, cradling him as if he were a baby of some sort. After a few more eternities of this, Funtime Freddy opened his eyes.

“This doesn’t leave this room.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

That was the truth. He wouldn’t tell anyone, they had all already seen it. Even Baby had stopped by to examine why four people were all gazing into Funtime Freddy’s area without calling for paramedics.

The group scampered once Funtime Freddy opened his eyes, though. Best not to be caught interrupting an intimate moment. 

Sooner, rather than later, it had turned into two o’clock. Just four and a half more hours and the day would be over: a rather unusually productive first day in the history of Circus Baby’s pizzeria. 

The two had decided to take a walk: this was the mid-day slump, when no one really came. Mornings and evenings are usually their busiest times on weekdays, though, Monday as a whole was a rather slump-y day. Not many people, apparently, celebrated on the first day of the business week.

Funtime Freddy and Diego walked about the area, Freddy himself taking a more active role. He was telling Diego about the history of the pizzeria, even what it used to look like before it was all extensively remodeled. 

“Huh. You know, I always thought the wall in the auditorium looked a little weird, but I had no idea this entire floor was something else.”

“The crews did an alright job. I don’t like how boxy the rooms are, but it’s efficient I guess.”

“I would guess so. Oh! Hi Sam!”

There she was: the manager extraordinaire, staring at the two of them as if she had seen a ghost.

“Is… is everything okay?”

“Am I going crazy, or is Funtime Freddy actually being nice to you?”

In response to that heinous accusation, Freddy (gently) elbowed Diego.

“It was nice while it lasted,” Diego chuckled. 

“Freddy, are you going to try and run Diego out of a job?”

Bon-Bon actually responded, Freddy more than happy to let him handle the softer side of the emotional spectrum: “maybe he’ll stay for a whole three months!”

“I think I’d like to stay longer.”

“Ah, excellent! Now, Freddy, do you mind if Diego and myself have a private conversation?”

“Not at all, Sam! I was getting tired of talking to this meat bag anyways!”

With that, he was off. Back to his usual, slightly unhinged, self.

“What on Earth have you done to make him not threaten your life, Diego?”

“Well, he still does, but it’s more playful. I think.”

“I’ll take that over the serious threats he’s made. What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t shock him.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Apparently, when you treat people like people, they’re much more behaved.”

“Alright. Just… don’t be scared to use it, if you really have to. Sometimes he gets so riled up not even Bon-Bon can calm him down.”

“I’ll take my chances. Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like it removed from my office. I read the protocol: it only states we need to have one available on request rather than in our offices, and I think he’d do better with it gone. I don’t want it near me, anyways. It just seems cruel.”

“It’s a sad fact that it is sometimes necessary. I don’t want it overused, but it's better than letting them kill. But, alright. Just turn it into my office and I’ll keep it on reserve for you.”

“Thanks, Sam. I think I’m really getting through to him. Oh, also, question. Can they eat?”

“They can, actually! They have a false digestive system. It’s a little too complex for you to work on for, probably your first week or two, but I do think you’ll eventually get trained on it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. I might wanna share a slice of pizza with him or something.”

“Oh! Speaking of, if you’d like you could take your lunch whenever you want. I don’t think I managed to tell you that, but, we don’t really have a set schedule - what with all the chaos of there being children here almost constantly.”

“That’d be nice!”

“Employees eat free! Our way of saying ‘thank you.’ And for you especially. Here, let’s walk,” Sam stated as she led Diego towards the break room, “I honestly thought Freddy would run you out before the day ended. Forgive me, but you're not the most imposing person. I wanted to pair Rock with Freddy, but he already had a manager at the time. They turned out to be amazing with Foxy, so, I suppose it was all fine in the end. Janice’s been here the longest, and, I can’t imagine separating her and Ballora. She’s gone through a lot in her life, I’m sure she’ll tell you about it. But as for you, well, as I said you’ll have to forgive me. I suppose looks are deceiving though. What did you say you were majoring in? I know you’re a college kid.”

“Psychology! I’m doing a minor in linguistics.”

“How’re you handling classes with a full-time job?”

“The classes are online, and if I’m honest, I like the time this job lets me have for them.”

“Smart thinking. You know, if you did get run out by him, I would’ve offered you the position of being Circus Baby’s manager. She’s been without one for two months now, but, in truth she doesn’t really need one. She’s always been very quiet and behaved, it was Freddy that needed one the most.”

“Bon-Bon seems to keep him in-line.”

“You’d think but, like I said, sometimes he just gets so antsy it’s horrifying. That’s the time when we have to shock him.”

“Do we have any idea what causes it?”

“I only wish we did. I think it’s some sort of deep-seated programming bug.”

“Hopefully I don’t see that.”

“Ah, but you might. Well, anyways, I think you probably have the best shot of either preventing that, or, getting him down from there. He usually enters that mode when one of his evaluations is coming up, that’s a full-body maintenance routine. It’s done every few months, just to keep them active and safe.” 

“I see. Weird, then. But, hey, I think he’ll be fine. My first day and I’m already connecting with him, I’m really liking it.”

“It’s nothing short of miraculous, what you’ve done here. We’ll just have to see if this holds or not: but I feel confident in saying that it will.”

The two were in the canteen by now, each taking some pizza. Might as well, since that was basically what everyone here lived off of. That and burgers, fries, and every other greasy food imaginable. They had healthy options, for sure, but most defaulted to the greasy goodness of the prepared food here. The healthy options probably weren’t actually FDA-approved for human consumption, either. They always had a weird smell to them.

“Can the animatronics eat with us?”

“In theory. In practice they either never have the appetite, or, don’t really want to.”

The two ate their pizza all while making the usual workplace small-talk.

“So, how long have you been here?”

“Six years. I started in 2016, actually, it’s kind of a funny story. I took this job on a dare. You know all the rumors about this company, and my friends are all true crime enthusiasts. Some of them are actually on the police force.”

“I imagine they’re sick and tired of all the prank calls this place gets, though.”

“Not as much as you’d think, actually. Especially with that Mega Pizzaplex now, you ever been?”

“Just once, to check it out. It’s… shockingly big. Especially for a town that doesn’t have that many people, I’m sure you could fit all of us into it with room to spare.”

“Hah! That’s what I’m saying. But it gets tourists here, so, who really cares at the end of the day? Certainly not the mayor.”

“So, what do we get? The Pizzaplex seems like they get all the fancy toys and funding.”

“You’d be right on that. We get… whatever’s left behind, actually. The budget’s really weird, but I won’t bore you with management deets.”

“Well, hey, if you have the will then I have the time,” Diego stated. He was rather interested in the finer details of management - call it his love of gossip, but he wanted to know how things worked ‘behind the curtains,’ as it were.

“You really are something special now, aren’t you? Alright, well, since you are working here I’ll let you in on it. So our budget is actually delivered on a ‘first-come first-serve’ basis. Means we have to fight against each other if we want anything.”

“Damn.”

“Damn is right. Pizzaplex has the larger staff so they, by default, get most of the money. We mostly sustain ourselves through our sales.”

“Would not have guessed that, hm. It just seems so unfair, I mean, this place might not be half as big as the Pizzaplex but we’re still here. And we’ve been around longer than… most of the Fazbear chain restaurants, actually. How haven’t we burned down yet?”

“A question I ask myself every single day I’m here,” Samantha stated while giggling. Honestly, it was miraculous all by itself that the place wasn’t in utter shambles at the end of every day.

The two had finished their lunch and were back up to the first floor. Diego found himself back in his office, having given Samantha the taser for safe-keeping. The time on Diego’s desktop read two-forty-five, with the first few children trickling in for Freddy’s three-o-clock show. 

It was rather uneventful, all things considered. Just a repeat of the earlier show, although with the names obviously replaced during the birthday song. How Freddy hadn’t gone mad from just doing this for three-and-a-half decades was entirely beyond the caretaker.

The show came and went, and the cleanup was frantic. Then came the five to six show, and with that, the day was over. It had all been a rather uneventful evening: Diego was mostly cooped up in his office replying to emails and finishing up some virtual trainings when he wasn’t taking stabs at his coursework. The time was six-fifteen, and his shift was over. Janice stepped into the auditorium, waving to Diego.

“Your first day is done, congratulations! How’d it go?”

“You know, I think it went pretty well. I think I got through to Freddy, so, I’m counting this as the most successful first day in the history of first days.”

She looked around, to make sure Freddy couldn’t hear. He was currently being looked over by maintenance personnel, throwing his usual fuss as Bon-Bon tried to calm him.

“That hug you two had was adorable! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be so calm.”

“I surprised myself with that, actually. I think it was really Bon-Bon’s doing, without him I really do not think that would’ve ever happened.”

As if on cue, a gentler voice cut through them: “it was, as always, a pleasure to see. It’s rare to see such a careful personality get along with Freddy’s by any metric,” a line uttered by of course none-other than Ballora.

“Ballora! You two really do go together very well.”

“We could say the same for you and Freddy,” Ballora replied. In all truth, she was not at all wrong to say that. 

The day had come to a close, and now it was just a quick little post-first-day debriefing with everyone. Rock and Foxy had made their way into the auditorium, and Samantha wasn’t very far behind. Everyone took a seat at the tables, the animatronics included, as they all went over the day’s sales and such. Diego and Freddy were mostly quiet, just observing the others do it - Diego mostly for the sake of learning, Freddy for the sake of not liking to speak at these things. He wasn’t in this for the money, but, well it was his life’s purpose now wasn’t it?

The entire time, Diego had a very affectionate Bon-Bon resting a paw on his shoulder. Freddy seemed mostly okay with this. Mostly. He still didn’t exactly trust Diego, but he might see how Bon-Bon would. That rabbit was always too trusting, too eager to see the good in people even if it was just a façade. That had gotten them hurt a few times, but Bon-Bon seemed relentless in his optimism.

The meeting had drawn to a close, and Diego bid Funtime Freddy and Bon-Bon a very simple goodbye. He couldn’t wait to start his second day at the job, and quite frankly, Freddy might admit to himself, and only himself, that he would be counting the hours until Diego returned at six am. He would certainly have a nice little chat with the other animatronics about Diego, how sweet and incorrigible he was. How utterly, painfully, incorrigible he was. That’s what the animatronics liked to do, at night anyways.

They enjoyed their gossip. That’s how they bonded and passed the time as they waited for morning: night was a place of being worked on and being left alone. None of them particularly enjoyed the sensation of being left alone, or even of the man-handling the nightly maintenance crew were known for, but that was the simple fact of it. 

Freddy watched as Diego exited the building, got into his car, and left.

What a weirdly beautiful day it was.

[minthaven]

Finally got the ability to read back and I’m using it to finish The Silver Eyes

Just gonna hobble together some headcanons real quick that you’re gonna have to pry from my cold dead hands unless the rest of the books prove me otherwise (because I 100% intend to binge-read whatever books I have until I run out of energy)

I’ll probably add to this once I start on the Fazbear Frights 👌

small spoilers for The Fourth Closet, tw for uncensored child unalive related words

— Ella is a repurposed Charlie. From what I know (without having read The Fourth Closet) Charlie’s “closets” housed each robot intended to be a life stage for her and I think it just makes sense. [ edit: I WAS RIGHT. ] Anyways along with this I like to imagine Ella wears one of those gingham black and red Christmas dresses, see below;

— Elizabeth uses the name “Elenor” in the [Fazbear Fright] books because she doesn’t remember her name. I think it’s widely accepted that Michael (or whoever is talking through the Survival Logbook) doesn’t remember his name, and I think it’d make sense for Elizabeth too. After possessing Circus Baby for so long and not having anyone to call her Elizabeth? (especially after TFC, moving from what I’m assuming is one “body” to another? Depending on how she got back into service after that ending) I’d probably forget my name too. Charlie knows she’s Charlie (or meant to be) because people were actively calling her Charlie. I don’t think Elizabeth had that.

— Idk if I’d call it a headcanon but I like to think that the Funtimes (including Baby and Ballora) are made of a leathery material, rather than just plastic or metal. Maybe leather over top? But I think this bc a) I think in one of the trailers or teaser images, Baby’s nose (and maybe her cheeks) is textured oddly and b) because I highkey think the “twisted” animatronics are the funtime animatronics, and they’re described as having an exterior “..like something between plastic and human skin: a strange, malleable substance that was a little too soft, a little too slick.” [TTO, Ch. 13 pg. 254] Could be silicone, or that stuff on those sticky stress balls, but I like the leathery idea (extra: not sure how to explain twisted Bonnie, but 🤷‍♀️ it’s a headcanon, I’m allowed to take liberties /hj) Subtheory; they could be the Nightmare animatronics, where it would explain twisted Bonnie & why they’re in a house.

— (just after starting TFC, more of a theory than a headcanon) The Luis in the final novel is the Luis from AR and nobody can change my mind [ edit: IT WOULD MAKE SENSE TOO. Because in The Fourth Closet, Luis is a construction worker with John, AR takes place just before or after VR (I’m assuming) and what can be seen through that secret hidey hole in VR? The Security Breach Mall (also just a theory? BUT IT MAKES SENSE.) We know that Luis has some sort of fascination with Vanny/Ness based on the AR emails, imagine him being a construction worker and working on this mall, and maybe that’s how Vanny/Ness gets involved with it too? 👀 ]

— William took Susie’s hair bow from her corpse and gave it to Elizabeth. Like?? I think they’re the only two characters with hair bows like the ones the have, and I can imagine he’d just be looking at this child he just killed and being like “Elizabeth would really like that ribbon” and just. Taking it. And “regifting” it.

[askfazbearfrights]

tell us about their voices!

Springbonnie: He doesn’t speak. If he is taking the place of someone, he uses their voice, or can (in extreme desperation) use a voice that is a cacophony of all kinds of voices he’s heard Ralpho: Weird Al (but a bit distorted) CTW Funtime Freddy: Still Kellen Goff but a bit deeper than usual Funtime Freddy Plushtrap Chaser: A very mechanical tone when not using someone else’s voice, it almost sounds like a Sing-a-ma-Jig Stitchwraith: A very soft and low tone, barely more than a whisper. It’s akin to the sound of wind int he trees, if you want to be theatric. CH Chica: She doesn’t speak but might hum Fetch: He can download and synthesize voices, his favourites are a medium range tone with a Boston or New York accent (depending on his mood) Eleanor: A slight Middle English accent, soft spoken (thing regular Circus Baby) Blackbird: When calm he sounds like Allen Rickman (flat out) when distressed or chasing someone he sounds more like 95% of the Skeksis from Dark Crystal (Don’t make me get specific xD) Ella: A rather lovely French accent and a proper tone (for lack for a better term), think Babette from Raggedy Ann’s Musical Adventure DWM Ballora: Still Ballora only more disappointed in you Lonely Freddy: The same as Rockstar Freddy only a bit higher pitch Golden Freddy: A deep raspy sound, you can always here other voices behind his words of the souls inside SC Foxy: He’s Foxy. That’s basically it. ITF Springtrap: He’s Springtrap, that’s it. However, his tone is a bit slower as he speaks in a way that he hopes won’t make people angry with him. There is a distinct digital distortion too Shadow Bonnie: A shrieking and cackling sound

[cry-away-the-monsters]

Angel’s blushing had settled down by the time she started doing the imitations, but it’s back at full force when Baby and Springtrap start clapping (and cheering), a huge smile on her face while she cups one of her cheeks with one of her hands. “Y-you two are too k-kind,” she says while they clap, covering her face with her hands. She swears, her head will explode if she gets any redder. She squeaks when Baby comes closer, unsure of how to describe how she does it.

“W-well, I’m not sure h-h-how, but I just...s-sort of started when I-I was little, when I-I first started coming t-to the establishments. I d-didn’t really have any human f-friends, but I had m-my plushes, so...I j-just started working on i-imitating their voices, so I-I could feel less a-alone about playing with th-them. It’s...very difficult t-to describe, but I s-sort of get myself i-into the right headspace f-for their personalities, which h-helps a lot with i-inflections and the like. I-it takes a lot o-of work with training th-the vocal cords to sh-shift along; I never r-really put much thought i-into it at first,” she admits, smiling a little. “C-certain things make it e-easier to mimic certain ch-characters. I have to r-relax my throat a l-lot for the deeper v-voices, like with Ballora’s a-and Funtime Freddy’s. Bon Bon’s c-comes a little more n-naturally since my voice i-is already so high, s-so he’s easy to m-mimic. I have an easier t-time of not stuttering b-because mimicking then sort o-of helps with anxiety, i-in a way...while th-the stuttering is partially because o-of brain damage, it’s a-also because of severe a-anxiety. Slipping into different p-personas...weirdly helps a lot w-with that, so it m-makes it easier to stop w-with that in mind. I-I can’t do many o-others since their voices a-are a bit too deep f-for me to properly i-imitate, but a lot o-of the higher ones a-are easy for me. I-I suppose being a l-lonely kid turned out t-to be more useful th-than I thought.”

She rubs at the back of her neck a little, smiling a little more and laughing. “Definitely helped make me into a walkin’ talkin’ plush!” she says, slipping back into her Chica voice again. “I-I-I don’t usually like t-to show off what I-I can really do, b-but...you wouldn’t c-call me a show-off f-for it, so I f-feel better about it w-with you two,” she admits, going back to normal again. “I’ve a-always...sort of been s-self-conscious of my voice, s-so...having a bunch o-of voices to mimic a-and choose from helps s-sometimes. I felt better a-about it after you c-came along, Springtrap, but...i-it’s nice time know I-I do a pretty g-good job of imitating th-them.”

She picks up her plate when she notices Marty starting to paw at her food, giving him a look of “excuse me sir” before giggling. “G-greedy, greedy kitty,” she says, shaking her head. She starts to eat again, humming a little. Once she finishes her bite, she smiles and looks between the two. “I’m g-glad you two think I-I did well, as m-much as I’ve talked a-about them I’ve been a-a bit nervous to a-a-actually do them. I kn-know you’re my partner, b-but...having one of th-the originals judge my i-imitations is always a t-tall order,” she confesses, rubbing at her neck again. “I was a-a little afraid I w-wouldn’t be able to d-do it again.”

Rosie, seeing that Baby isn’t really paying attention to her right now, bolts off to go get food, earning a stare from Marty as he’s reminded that he’d like to eat too. He hops off of the table and hurries after Rosie, ears flat against his head while Angel giggles a bit. “I-I can do a s-similar voice to yours, b-but mine’s at a h-higher pitch...so it’s n-not quite the same. V-very similar though.”

The 5’3” brunette woman looks up at the oddly familiar-looking, rather grotesque, decayed version of the bunny mascot she once saw dancing around on a stage as a child, looking at him with a very confused look on her soft, rounded face, as though trying to figure out what the hell to say. “S-so uhm. Are you a-actually Spring Bonnie?” she stammers, a very soft voice coos out, a rather thick but pretty English accent quite noticeable. [[ cry-away-the-monsters ]]

“…Technically. I was once Spring Bonnie, I always wore this suit. It was mine…now I’m trapped in it forever. I call myself Springtrap now.” He responded, standing much taller than the woman, seeing as he was 7 foot. “It’s not so bad, I get to live forever and be something else…” He noticed how she had the same accent at him, it was not too often he met anyone around from where he was born. “You shouldn’t be here though, it’s dangerous…”

@cry-away-the-monsters

[cry-away-the-monsters]

While Angel would normally want to be part of the conversation, she figures it’s better to let the two talk amongst themselves for a while. They hadn’t seen each other in years, they were family; she had no real right to intrude on that, at least not right now. Still, she finds herself occasionally tuning into the conversation while she makes her dinner (she eventually decides on cheeseburger macaroni...it was easy to make and she could do it herself while the two talked), smiling a bit at Springtrap’s insistence on helping his daughter be better. She can’t help but be proud...

She didn’t think she’d do as much as she has for him. She thought it would be quite a bit harder than it was...hell, she figured that as soon as she started therapy, Springtrap would’ve gone totally mad. But instead he’s been making things, making new animatronics...

...she wonders if she could ask him to make a mini-Fredbear. As afraid as she would be to ask...she wants to know. Can she find any memories through that? As happy as she is about being with him, her initial goal when she went to the attraction was to find Fredbear, see if the bear could help spark some kind of memory. Her therapist would want to help her sort through what all happened, she’d need to confront those memories eventually. She needed to confront the monsters in her head someday...if she didn’t, she probably would never heal at all. She probably won’t heal much as it is, but she can at least find some ways to cope with things better than she has. Seeing Baby, even with such a different look, sparked that recollection of her encounter with Ballora, even though she didn’t even see Ballora herself.

Maybe that was it...maybe the key to moving on was to put herself back in that same old position. Put herself back in that place.

Rosie, despite being a little nervous about the giant skating robot, eventually climbs her way up onto the couch, sniffing and nibbling at different bits and pieces, swatting at some of the more extraneous pieces that bounce and bob when she smacks them. Marty, seeing that Rosie is busy with Baby, lays himself across Springtrap’s lap, curling up in a loaf and closing his eyes. He occasionally nuzzles the rabbit, still wanting to command some attention while he helps. Angel can’t help but smile at the sight when she glances back at the two, an idea sparking in her head...

...it would probably be tricky though. All things considered, it wouldn’t be traditional...they couldn’t just go out and do it. They’d probably have to be more discreet. But...didn’t Aerin once say one of their (living) friends would be able to? She’d have to figure out what size he is, of course, which would be easy since they have proper blueprints. If nothing else, a cord would work, he could wear it around his neck along with his bow.

Would she have the guts to do it, though? Is it too early to consider it? People say that only a couple of months is way too soon...oh, but she doesn’t know how long she could wait.

She realises she’s spaced out and probably been staring at Springtrap for a bit when she gets back to cooking. She’s a little bit sad they can’t eat, she’d love to share, but she doesn’t mind too much. There’s plenty enough they can do to bond that doesn’t involve food. Even then, she can still do that, since Springtrap likes cooking so much. After a while of being silent (and waiting for the right moment to speak up), Angel decides to ask something.

“P-pardon my interruption...but...E-Elizabeth, if it’s alright t-to ask...how did you f-fix yourself up like th-that? I can’t say I-I’m surprised, considering what a-a whiz at robotics y-your father is...but I-I’m curious. When we’re f-fixing you up, maybe w-we could incorporate some o-of those things into th-the design as well. O-of course, it’s your b-body, so it’s your ch-choice.”

The 5’3” brunette woman looks up at the oddly familiar-looking, rather grotesque, decayed version of the bunny mascot she once saw dancing around on a stage as a child, looking at him with a very confused look on her soft, rounded face, as though trying to figure out what the hell to say. “S-so uhm. Are you a-actually Spring Bonnie?” she stammers, a very soft voice coos out, a rather thick but pretty English accent quite noticeable. [[ cry-away-the-monsters ]]

“…Technically. I was once Spring Bonnie, I always wore this suit. It was mine…now I’m trapped in it forever. I call myself Springtrap now.” He responded, standing much taller than the woman, seeing as he was 7 foot. “It’s not so bad, I get to live forever and be something else…” He noticed how she had the same accent at him, it was not too often he met anyone around from where he was born. “You shouldn’t be here though, it’s dangerous…”

@cry-away-the-monsters

[cry-away-the-monsters]

“I-I’m happy to help, l-love. I’d be downright h-hypocritical and cruel if I-I turned you away,” she replies, then she nods at Baby’s response to her question. “Hm. S-so Charlie is there...” she murmurs, trying to think. Why would all of them be called there? It seems like an oddly specific group to call...Elizabeth, Charlie, William, the Funtime cast and Ballora. It seems too specific...too specific to be a coincidence of some sort. “M-maybe I can find s-some way to help h-her too. I’m not s-so sure about Molten Freddy, th-though. As far as I kn-know, Cassidy and the o-other five that follow S-Springtrap are the only o-other ones that are h-here. I’m not sure wh-what’s with the Funtimes,” she ponders, glancing back at Springtrap, about to ask if he has any idea, but she takes notice of his expression. She turns to face him a bit more, wrapping her arms around him.

“I-I can ask about H-Henry and how he’s doing, i-if you’d feel better w-with me doing that. I-I know you’re worried,” she offers, hoping that reassurance will help. Henry has been quiet for a while...she wonders if he has some kind of involvement. If he does...maybe that’ll help her piece it together a bit more. Then something comes to mind. There seems to be a common denominator...maybe it’s a stretch. But it can’t be coincidence...it just can’t. She doesn’t have enough to prove it though...

“...m-maybe finding Michael is th-the key,” she thinks aloud. “If...if h-he’s there. If you m-missed seeing him...maybe th-that place is more d-dangerous than I first th-thought,” she says, taking another moment to think. “O-only two of you w-were killed by Springtrap’s o-own creations, you and h-himself. Charlie and Molten F-Freddy, I’m not sure...Ch-Charlotte acted as a s-sort of catalyst for th-the original Missing Kids that were k-killed...they were never s-set free, they attached th-themselves to him while C-Cassidy also attached to m-me. There would be a-a lot more souls b-brought there if Springtrap a-also went...” She trails off, wondering if she might be getting something.

She hopes what she theorises is wrong.

“I-if Michael is there, th-then...I’m afraid there m-might be more danger th-than I thought. There’s n-no way a meet-up l-like this is a c-coincidence. Someone’s end goal i-involves every one of you...I-I just don’t know wh-who. If I can f-figure out who’s running it, a-and if I find Mike...m-maybe then it’ll make m-more sense.

“F-for now...I’ll ask A-Aerin if they’d be w-willing to take both o-of you on. I’m u-unsure if Jay could h-help Elizabeth–” she starts, then she pauses. “Wait, w-would you rather I c-call you Elizabeth or s-something else? Springtrap decided h-he’d prefer to be c-called that rather than W-William, so I’m not s-sure if you feel th-the same.”

The 5’3” brunette woman looks up at the oddly familiar-looking, rather grotesque, decayed version of the bunny mascot she once saw dancing around on a stage as a child, looking at him with a very confused look on her soft, rounded face, as though trying to figure out what the hell to say. “S-so uhm. Are you a-actually Spring Bonnie?” she stammers, a very soft voice coos out, a rather thick but pretty English accent quite noticeable. [[ cry-away-the-monsters ]]

“…Technically. I was once Spring Bonnie, I always wore this suit. It was mine…now I’m trapped in it forever. I call myself Springtrap now.” He responded, standing much taller than the woman, seeing as he was 7 foot. “It’s not so bad, I get to live forever and be something else…” He noticed how she had the same accent at him, it was not too often he met anyone around from where he was born. “You shouldn’t be here though, it’s dangerous…”

@cry-away-the-monsters

[cry-away-the-monsters]

Feeling Springtrap’s hand on her shoulder, Angel reaches up to rest one of her own on his, feeling a bit bad. She can tell Baby’s struggling with this...and it already hurts to see her like that. It can’t be easy, considering...she’s also technically been dead for years. She wonders how long she was stuck like that...it was definitely sometime after Angel visited that Elizabeth died; that was a little under forty years back, since Baby’s eyes were blue when she last saw her, before this...new design. She listens to the two as they speak, trying to figure out how to manage this.

She could offer Baby her home, she can’t just let her go out in the open. Again, it would cause a panic...and if what Baby’s saying is true, she’s going to also need help with working to get better. Seeing Springtrap’s old point of view...Angel understands well enough what that means. So she will definitely need that help too, she can’t go back to the restaurant. She wonders who else is there...obviously “Molten Freddy” is there, which...she doesn’t even want to imagine what a combination of Funtime Foxy, Ballora, and Funtime Freddy would look like. Taking on the responsibility of helping Springtrap get better has been a handful in of itself, but helping him and Baby? That was going to be taxing...

But there’s no way in hell she’s going to let any daughter of his be abandoned. Maybe this is another piece of the puzzle...maybe this will be a more peaceful way of resting their souls.

“I-I’ll check it out, then...I-I’ll have to wait u-until tomorrow, but for th-the time being, you c-can stay here. There’s a-a spare room you c-can stay in, if y-you still get tired l-like he does. You c-certainly can’t go outside again, p-people would probably panic. I-if nothing else...” she starts, trailing off in thought. “...if I-I feel that th-the new place is d-dangerous to either of you, w-we can work on h-helping you too. Maybe w-work on fixing you up a-as well...I can a-ask a friend of m-mine and my son t-to help with getting s-some things to fix y-you physically. I’m sure y-you’ve done what you c-can to restore yourself, b-but surely you can’t s-stay like that,” she says. She looks back up at Springtrap. “If y-you can remember what all y-you made her with a-and make a list o-of those materials, I-I can see what I-I can do about th-them. I don’t know if w-we can get everything exactly r-right, those models were still f-far beyond any a-animatronics, even today...but i-if she’s staying here, I-I don’t want her s-staying like that either.”

Shifting her gaze back to Baby, she smiles. “W-we’ll do what we c-can for you. It’s a-a bit of a h-handful, I’ll be honest...b-b-but if you’re his d-daughter, then you’re basically m-mine as well, and I-I want to help. Y-your father was stuck th-the way he was f-for years...if I c-can help him get b-better, then you can be h-helped too,” she assures, then she pauses. “...maybe I sh-should ask Henry if h-he knows something about a-all of this first, a-after I have dinner. H-he stopped being majorly involved i-in Fazbear Entertainment years ago, b-back when your father p-passed...but if anyone g-gets pestered about it b-by the company itself, i-it’s probably him.

“Do y-you know who all e-else is there? I-if you and th-the ones from Circus Baby’s a-are there...I’m betting Ch-Charlotte’s there.”

The 5’3” brunette woman looks up at the oddly familiar-looking, rather grotesque, decayed version of the bunny mascot she once saw dancing around on a stage as a child, looking at him with a very confused look on her soft, rounded face, as though trying to figure out what the hell to say. “S-so uhm. Are you a-actually Spring Bonnie?” she stammers, a very soft voice coos out, a rather thick but pretty English accent quite noticeable. [[ cry-away-the-monsters ]]

“…Technically. I was once Spring Bonnie, I always wore this suit. It was mine…now I’m trapped in it forever. I call myself Springtrap now.” He responded, standing much taller than the woman, seeing as he was 7 foot. “It’s not so bad, I get to live forever and be something else…” He noticed how she had the same accent at him, it was not too often he met anyone around from where he was born. “You shouldn’t be here though, it’s dangerous…”

@cry-away-the-monsters