The contestants are set!
With 100 responses, i unfortunately could not include everything <//3. However, there will be 52 contestants as listed bellow, and 26 polls for the first round!
I will begin the polls shortly, may the worst place win!
PLACE: The Stanley parable company place
MEDIA: the stanely parable
VS
PLACE: Papa's Pizzeria
MEDIA: Papa's Pizzeria
PLACE: Hazbin hotel
MEDIA:Hazbin hotel
VS
PLACE: VVV
MEDIA: Hazbin hotel
PLACE: Altobuck Hospital
MEDIA: Blackout Hospital
VS
PLACE: Aether West Academy
MEDIA: Here For Sweet Hearts
PLACE: Jovial Playground
MEDIA: Jovial Playground - Roblox
VS
PLACE: Glorp N Go
MEDIA: Regretevator - Roblox
PLACE: The BAU (the behavioral analysis unit)
MEDIA: criminal minds
VS
PLACE: Princeton plainsboro teaching hospital
MEDIA: House m.d.
PLACE: Global Relief Effort (GRE)
MEDIA: Dying Light/Dying Light 2
VS
PLACE: IMC (Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation)
MEDIA: Titanfall 2
PLACE: JCJenson
MEDIA: Murder Drones
VS
PLACE: The Company
MEDIA: Lethal Company
PLACE: Rizzo’s
MEDIA: Outer Worlds
VS
PLACE: The Halcyon Corporation
MEDIA: Outer Worlds
PLACE: Arkham Asylum
MEDIA: DCU
VS
PLACE: Lexcorp
MEDIA: Superman comics/tv shows/movies
PLACE: StrexCorp
MEDIA: Welcome to Night Vale
VS
PLACE: Night Vale Community Radio
MEDIA: Welcome to Nightvale
PLACE: Gent corporation
MEDIA: BATDR
VS
PLACE: Joey Drew Studios
MEDIA: Bendy And The Ink Machine
PLACE: Archeological expedition funded by Whitmore Industries/Preston Whitmore
MEDIA: Atlantis the Lost Empire
VS
PLACE: Clovis Bray / Braytech
MEDIA: Deatiny 2
PLACE: Engineering on the USS Enterprise NCC-1701
MEDIA: Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS)
VS
PLACE: Discovery One
MEDIA: 2001 A Space Odyssey
PLACE: Lobotomy Corporation
MEDIA: Lobotomy Corporation (the game)
VS
PLACE: The Combine Overwatch
MEDIA: Half Life
PLACE: Lumon
MEDIA: Severance
VS
PLACE: I.R.I.S.
MEDIA: Anomaly Found - Chase Brody by Jacksepticeye on Youtube
PLACE: hero association
MEDIA: one punch man
VS
PLACE: Public Safety Devil Hunters
MEDIA: Chainsaw Man
PLACE: Princess Peach's Royal Guard
MEDIA: Super Mario Bros.
VS
PLACE: Mettatons restaurant
MEDIA: Undertale
PLACE: Aether foundation
MEDIA: Pokemon
VS
PLACE: The Fatui
MEDIA: Genshin Impact
PLACE: Goddard Futuristics
MEDIA: Wolf 359 (podcast)
VS
PLACE: The Magnus Institute
MEDIA: The Magnus Archives
PLACE: D.D.D
MEDIA: That’s not my neighbor
VS
PLACE: Grand Army of the Republic
MEDIA: Star Wars (Attack of the Clones to Revenge of the Sith era)
PLACE: Coven Communications Research and Power (CCRP) MEDIA: The hatchetfield series (starkid)
VS
PLACE: ASU-NARO
MEDIA: yttd (Your Turn to Die - Death Game by Majority)
PLACE: Fairy godmother's factory
MEDIA: Shrek 2
VS
PLACE: COGs incorporated
MEDIA: Disney’s Toontown
PLACE: Fazbender Entertainment
MEDIA: The Dayshift At Freddy's series
VS
PLACE: Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex
MEDIA: Five nights at freddy's
PLACE: UAC (Union Aerospace Corporation)
MEDIA: doom
VS
PLACE: Immediate Murder Professionals (IMP)
MEDIA: Helluva Boss
PLACE: S.C.P. Foundation
MEDIA: S.C.P. Foundation
VS
PLACE: Aperture science
MEDIA: Portal
PLACE: GrizzCo
MEDIA: Splatoon
VS
PLACE: Mystery Flesh Pit National Park
MEDIA: Mystery Flesh Pit National Park
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Rebuilt
Chapter 1
Synopsis: You are the current owner of Fazbear Entertainment and founder of Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. After finally striking gold and basking in your success, a new location, Fredbear’s Frights, pops up. As more rumors spread of your affiliation with the sorry excuse for a horror attraction, you set off to sabotage the buisness before it can even open its doors.
(Warning: Alternate Universe, the timeline is ALL OVER THE PLACE.)
Reader is a 43 year old trans man but the gender is left relatively open for the most part
Also posted on ao3!:
You jammed the crowbar into the window, cramming it open. The window creaked in defiance, giving you a damn hard time. You had to kick the thing open. Finally, you opened it enough to squeeze yourself into the building.
This stupid horror attraction has done nothing but cause you trouble since it opened. You promised the public since day one you weren’t here to make fun of the lives lost and this fucker was screwing it up for you COMPLETELY. News reporters somehow mistaking this as one of your projects even though this place wasn’t even affiliated with Fazbear Entertainment!
TWO MONTHS AGO
You sat at your long desk, cluttered with notepads and sticky notes reminding you of everything that’s due. You procrastinated paying most of the buisness expenses and now you were paying the price… Literally and figuratively. All the tiny numbers on the computer screen were practically making you go crosseyed.
A knock at the door disturbs you from your work. One more minor inconvenience and you’re going to go ballistic, you groan internally.
“Come in!” you yell.
In steps Brandon. He’s a college student who’s been interning down at the workshop, watching the work that gets done on the animatronics. However, he doesn’t do any of the real repairs. All maintenance employees go through very strict training before being allowed to handle the animatronics.
You wheel your desk chair away from the monitor, “Brandon, what a surprise! What’s up?”
“I don’t mean to bother you Mr. Bossman, but I’ve got a wicked idea. What you got goin on here is great, but the people itch for more! I think we can make a totally wicked haunted house type thing. It’ll have all the old relics and-”
“No.” You cut him off before he keeps going.
“Whaatt? I thought you were all about innovation and new ideas man?”
“Fazbear Entertainment™️ is not going to capitalize on the death of others.”
“That’s not- that’s not what I’m trying to do man” he holds his hands up in protest.
You cross your arms on the table, rolling your eyes. “It’s not what you MEANT to do, but that is what you’re doing. Treating REAL deaths like a cheap horror thrill.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth, man!”
“I’m not going to entertain this conversation any longer, Brandon. Get back to work.” You sigh, sliding your chair back behind the monitor.
“I’m not going back to work because-” You hear a click noise and Brandon’s name tag smacks onto the middle of your keyboard. “I QUIT!!”
You look up at Brandon unamused. Is this supposed to be a threat? As if you’ll actually care that his mediocre ass is headed elsewhere. You had engineering students from just about every state begging for a position at the pizzaplex.
Brandon goes to storm out but then it hits you. You stand up out of your chair, peeking over the monitor, “WAIT!”
Brandon crosses his arms and stops, turning around with a smug look.
“If you use Fazbear Entertainment’s name for anything related to that attraction, I’ll sue you for everything you’re worth.” You glare at him.
Brandon’s face falls and he leaves without another word. The door clicks shut behind him and you sink back into your chair.
“He’s going to get a rude awakening” you laugh quietly to yourself.
From the day you got your hands on this company, everyone was trying to paint you out to be the bad guy. You saw the vision for what Fazbear’s could be! You had nothing to do with murder! But you were only let off the hook for one reason only: you yourself were a victim. You were able to get the news on your side as someone who could understand where the people were coming from. But Brandon doesn’t have any honorable ties to vouch for his cause. They’ll cancel his ass before he can even open for business. Maybe you’ll have to keep your eyes peeled on Twitter for news about this.
CURRENT TIME
"It felt depraved; busting into this sad excuse for a haunted house. You slipped through he window, dropping to the floor with a hard thud.
Groaning, you push yourself up off the dusty ground.
"I'm getting too old for this shit."
You hear your own whining bounce and reverberate off the dusty, cold concrete lining the inside of the complex.
You try to dust off the grime from your face but it sticks to your sweat. You get back up on your feet and wander around. This place is so gross. The first thing you notice about this place is the smell. It’s wet and muggy and smells like pure rot. Everything has this weird greenwash. Sure, the vibes are creepy, but what’s scarier is how much of a health violation this place is. “Aaandd that’s mold” you shine your flashlight at the wall. Black vines of mold reach from the floor up to the ceiling.
You put the flashlight in your back pocket and fish out the latex gloves you brought with you. You are NOT touching anything in here with your bare hands.
Wandering from room to room, you can’t help but stop to check out every artifact Brandon had managed to scrounge up. He had some legit stuff buried among a sea of fakes. You were honestly surprised at the dedication to find this stuff. (And the balls. You tried you very best to stay FAR away from the previous locations)
Something shifts behind you and you whip around to see what the noise was from. You’re greeted with an empty hallway. “Tch, this place probably has rats too.” You mumble, turning back around.
A foxy mask at the opposite end of the hallway stops you in your tracks. You walk up, taking the mask off the light fixture and examining the inside of the head. Yeah, damn it’s official too. “Long time no see bud” you chuckle, twisting the mask to face you.
“I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now, Captain.”
You wobble on your tippy toes trying to put the foxy head back on the light.
You continue wandering around, the place is pretty lack luster. Actually this place is really boring; the scare factor wore off pretty quickly. Maybe you have nothing to worry about. If Twitter doesn’t get this place shut down, the health department will surely get his ass.
A long ear-piercing clang of metal scraping metal reverberates down the hall. You nearly hurt your neck from how quickly you turn around. A hunched over rabbit animatronic grabs onto the wall, head hung low. Its neck cranes up with a loud creak. He looks like a mangled Bonnie…of sorts? Its shoulder cocks sideways unnaturally as it shifts its weight on the hand grasping at the wall. Before you can react, it dashes towards you at a terrifying speed. You screech, attempting to run from the beast.
His hand yanks you by your arm, crashing you into his metal frame. Everything goes in a blur as you’re whipped around to face him and slammed against the wall. His rough jagged hands contract around your neck, lifting you off the ground. You flail hour legs, trying to kick at his shoulders.
“Wait- WAIT” you plead. You want to say more but you can’t choke another word out.
To your surprise his hands relented their iron grip, but stayed firmly around your neck. He’s cognizant! Maybe you can reason with this thing!
Your cough and wheeze, trying to catch your breath. His putrid stench was overwhelming your senses, suffocating every jagged breath you take. “I can get you out of here” you say in between coughs. God… you can taste the coppery rot in your mouth. Your shoulders shake as you fight back from dry heaving.
He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at you.
“It’s cruel keeping you here like this. They’re treating you like an animal in a zoo! I can get you away from this trashheap!” He stares at you blankly. No response. Think of something else! “Better yet, I can fix this” you thud your knuckle against his tattered arm.
“New suit, new life, sounds like a steal to me” you feel like you’re in the investment room again, bumbling like an idiot to try to sell your idea.
His left hand lets go of your neck, clanking his knuckles against his torso, “There’s no fixing this” his gravely voice seethes.
“Oh god no!” you laugh nervously. “It’ll be a new suit entirely. New endo, new casing, it’ll have all the bells and whistles you could possibly desire!” Of course, everything comes with a catch, “But you have to promise not to kill me” you claw your nails against the hand still squeezing against your neck. It ain’t much of a catch; he’s getting all the benefits here!What more could he want?!!
His hand still stays firmly planted, scraping against your skin, “Who the fuck are you supposed to be exactly?”
Tough crowd…
“(Y/n) (L/n), Fazbear Entertainment’s current owner and overseeing repairman for the California branch” you slide your hand into your back pocket, slipping your buisness card out of your wallet. You wave the colorful card in front of him. He snatches the paper with his free hand, examining it closely with squinted eyes. You watch the lights of his eyes glide from side to side.
He looks back at you quizzically. “You? You’re the owner?” His face is unreadable but you could hear him holding back laughter.
“Yes” the corner of your mouth twitches in annoyance.
A loud gargled wheeze emits from him, making you jump. He chokes out a booming laugh, losing his composure making his hand slide you down the wall, finally letting you plant your feet back on the ground.
He covers his mouth with his hand, still choking out short laughs. He looks at you again and booms with laughter again. It’s a deep throaty laugh that rattles his shoulders. You sit there watching him in irritation.
“Ok, ok,” he wheezes through stifled laughs, attempting to… catch his breath?… he straightens back up, meeting your eyes again.
“If you’re the owner…” he stops and thinks, “Then why am I here?” He gestures at the building. His hand closes in on your neck again.
“Fredbear’s Frights isn’t affiliated with Fazbear entertainment!” You speak in a panic, trying to reason with him again before he chokes you out again.
“I have nothing to do with this place. This place is barely legal to begin with! He got this place through stupid fucking loopholes in copyright laws!” you blabber.
“If you’re not affiliated, then why are you here?”
Christ, he’s is just like everyone else: painting you out to be the bad guy. HE’S the bad guy here!! He’s fucking psycho!!!!
“Everyone’s trying to blame me for this stupid sorry fucking excuse of a haunted house! Copy-write laws be damned, I need this place GONE.” you wrangle against his grip like a fish out of water. Your patience is running thin. Can’t he just take your offer?!
“If you’re lying to me. Know that I will find you.” He flicks your buisness card in your face before releasing his grip on your neck. Your knees buckle under the sudden weight. Rubbing your sore neck, you take in a deep breath, savoring the feeling of being able to breathe normally again.
You straighten out your button-up shirt,
“Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?”
He hums and walks toward the direction he crawled out of earlier. You follow carefully behind him.
“I never got a name for you.” You speed up, getting in front of him, walking backwards as you keep talking. “I can’t say I recognize this suit’s model. It looks antique.”
he rolls his eyes, putting on a mocking tone, “Shouldn’t you already know. Since you’re the owner and all”
“Well you’re obviously not Bonnie. He’s purple. And you’re not springbonnie. He’s yellow. Not really sure what other bunny animatronics there are to compare you to.”
“Firstly, Bonnie is not purple. He’s blue.” He corrects. You go to open your mouth but puts his index over your mouth to shush you. Ew ew ewww, his finger touched your tongue. The fur was crusty but damp at the same time.
“But you were almost there. Springbonnie would be correct.” He huffs.
“See, I know what I’m talking abou-“ you trip over stray boxes in the hallway, falling flat on your back with your arms sprawled out.
The animatronic steps into your view. His ear flops as he looks down to face you. That permanent jagged smile on his maw suddenly feels so smug. “Yeah, you seem to know exaaactly what you’re doing” he mocks.
You have to fight yourself from telling him to fuck off. You’re quick to get back up on your feet. All this falling and being thrown around is going to kill you tomorrow…
Finally, you reach the storage room. It’s a bit of a stuffy room. Most of the space is taken up by the metal table in the middle. And on the top left, there’s a squatty window just wide enough that you could squeeze through.
“So,” you sit down on the stool by the table, “Springbonnie —can I call you Springs?”
“Springtrap” he sits down across from you.
“What?”
“I go by springtrap”
“……..caaan I call you Springs?”
“No.” he deadpans.
“Okay, Springtrap. So, I’d like to lay a couple ground rules down first before we begin. I’d like to remind you of our deal that while you get a new body and a life outside of here, you cannot kill me or hurt me in any way.“
“I know”
“Just confirming” you shrug. Better safe than sorry, especially when it’s your own life on the line here.
“So we have a standard endoskeleton model that-”
Springtrap waves his hand to get your attention, “let me stop you there. This isn’t going to be any standard procedure.” He circles his hand around his chest.
“In case you haven’t noticed, hotshot, I’m not a robot. My corpse is part OF the suit.” He continues to talk to you like you’re stupid.
“Well, you sure as hell smell like a dead body, so I already figured.” You grimace.
“Actually, I would like to see what I’m working with, if you don’t mind?”
“Take me out to dinner before you ask to poke around my insides, freak.” He jests.
You bite back a laugh. He’s pissed you off way too many times for you to laugh at his joke.
He’s still chuckling to himself when you get to his side of the table. “Can I?” You point your flashlight down at his chest cavity.
Springtrap hesitantly nods. You flash the light inside the large gash in his chest.
It doesn’t help that your vision here is limited, but you can barely tell where his corpse stops and the endoskeleton begins. You knew the basics about the springlocks but you’d never actually encountered on of these suits in person before. This was total foreign territory to you. In a morbid way, you were intrigued. How fascinating that his body was still somewhat in tact. His chest still rises and falls taking ragged breaths. He breathes.
Your brain starts to pile with questions. How does he function? What all is still in tact? His intestines billow around his hips, hanging loosely. Can he eat? You can’t help but squish one of the intestines lightly. Suddenly, Springtrap grabs at your wrist, yanking it as far up as he can without popping your shoulder out of place. “Did I say you could touch me?” He seethes in your face; his nasty breath clouding up in your nostrils.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to overstep” you yelp.
He drops your wrist. Your body is really taking a beating today huh? It’ll be a miracle if you aren’t bedbound tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow…
“I do have to inform you that unfortunately my time today is limited. I have work tomorrow and it’s quite a drive from here to the Pizzaplex. I hate to cut things so short but I do have a couple more questions before I leave!”
“Pizzaplex?”
“I can explain that tomorrow.” You wave him off. “But, I do need to know what exactly you’re looking for in a remodel. As I was saying before, we have a standard endoskeleton that can fit a variety of body types. You can choose whichever casing you like best. The color choice is of course up to you, and you can even change your animal if you wanna really switch things up!”
“I’ll stick with the yellow rabbit.”
“Suit yourself” you shrug.
“What do you mean by different body types? Do you have examples?” He crosses his legs and leans in closer.
You take out your phone, scrolling through your gallery for a good picture of the fazgang. Finally, you land on a picture from not too long ago. It was one of the work parties held for your assistant repair overseer, Ryan. He’d worked for the company back in the 80s but retired back in early June. You and Ryan are posed in front of the main four. Freddy is hugging both you and Ryan, Monty is throwing up the rock and roll hands with his tongue out, Roxy was slaying, and chica was being her bubbly self.
You show him the phone, watching his reaction. He freezes for a minute but then takes the phone, putting it super close to his face.
“Did you make them?” He asks bewildered.
“Yeah- well. I’ve had some help here and there but yeah, the designs are mine. Pretty cool right?” You give a smile. A genuine smile this time. They were your proudest work.
“where’s the fox?” He quizzes.
“Long story.”
“Where’s Bonnie?”
You cringe, “Even longer story”
“I’m not seeing anything I want personally. Do you have anything a little less…” he motions a very exaggerated version of the glamrock’s dorito shape.
“You’re asking for something custom?”
“Yes.”
You sigh, “you drive a very hard bargain, you know that?”
“I know what I want.” He shrugs.
“What is this thing anyways?” He waves your phone that he still held in his hand.
“That would be my phone.”
“THIS? This is a phone?? You can take pictures on this?”
“It can do a lot more than that.” You laugh.
His absence of technical knowledge was somewhat refreshing actually. Usually, you’re forced into rooms with insufferable tech bros most of the time.
“When did they start making these? What….” He goes quiet for a moment, “What year is it exactly?” He looks at you with genuine concern.
You raise your eyebrows. He’s really never seen anything remotely close to this, huh? You hold your hand out, gesture for him to hand your phone back. He plops it back into your palm. Glancing at the time, 5:25. It’s getting way too late…
“What year do you think it is?”
Springtrap sits, thinking, “I’d guess maybe… 1999?”
“Ohhh you’ve got a lot to catch up on… it’s 2024”
Springtrap’s eyes go wide and his jaw goes slack, revealing what’s left of his skull behind the mask. This is the first time you’ve seen him express an emotion beyond anger and entitlement.
“I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions. Think of all you wanna ask and I’ll have all your answers tomorrow. I do apologize but it really is getting late.” You almost feel bad for leaving him to sit in shell shock like this. Almost…. Actually, he deserves it after how he’s treated you all night.
Before leaving the room, you realize you never asked what time would be best to meet again, “How does 11:00 pm sound for tomorrow?”
“I can only free roam from 12 am to 6 am” he mumbles.
“Damn, that sucks. 12 it is then!” You turn around and leave, waving without looking back at him.
12 works better for you, one less hour you have to spend looking at his ugly mug.
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