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melodramamirrors · 4 months ago

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🎉Happy Birthday Again🎉 // Toy Freddy x Host! reader

It feels like every day is the same, doesn’t it? Wake up, get dressed, clock in, and do the day. No variation, no surprises; like a looping song, repeating itself forever. Well, that was capitalism for you. It wasn’t any different this morning. Attired with your sprucely contoured Freddy’s uniform, you entered the doors of the pizzeria.

“Hello Y/N!”

“Good morning Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N.”

As if right on cue, your fellow coworkers greeted you like always. You gave a smile and waved to each other as you passed. Deeper into the pizzeria, you strolled along to the employee’s only room. It was a rather dimly lit room, with no windows, no vents; only the old flickering lightbulb tiredly hanging above, and the stale scents of dust and rotten tomato sauce. You wondered if the maintenance crew would ever switch out that old lightbulb. You thought about complaining or perhaps doing it yourself, but you decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Maybe one day you’ll get around to it.

You grabbed a time card and slid it into the slot of the clock machine. As you slipped it back out you took a look at it. 9:46 am. You were one minute late, like always. You felt a slight shiver run down your spine and you wondered where the sudden draft had come from. You were ready to leave.

You made your way back down the hall and into the lobby. Just past the cashier’s counter stood your host stand which you stationed yourself at. Damn, you thought. Why did you always forget to clean off your station the night before? You sighed as you began to tidy up. In your concentration, you hadn’t noticed the peculiarly light footsteps of a familiar friend. You bent down, shuffling through your supplies as you searched for your clipboard. Finally, you found it, but as you reached for it you caught something from your peripherals. You would’ve been quick to straighten back up if that godforsaken stand didn’t stop you. Yes, you, Y/N, had just rammed your head against your own host stand, and you fell back onto your butt with a quiet yelp.

“Oh my, employee Y/N!” you heard him gasp. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was, but you glared at him anyway. Towering over you was no other than Toy Freddy, who gingerly reached out a giant paw. You bitterly refused his offering and stood up on your own. “Are you okay?”

No. I’ve got a headache and my ass hurts now, you thought. You heard the stifled giggles of your coworkers nearby and rolled your eyes. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this, Freddy,” you grunted, rubbing the back of your head.

“My sincerest apologies, Y/N,” he said guiltily. Still, you wondered if he was truly sorry at all.

“How do you even walk so quietly anyway?” you asked. Freddy’s ears wiggled.

“I’m not sure! I’ve never noticed,” he said. Somehow you doubted that. You watched as his bushy eyebrows raised. He looked worried, concerned even, but in a distinctly animatronic way. It was like these robots tried their hardest to express emotions, but they couldn’t get it quite right. It was uncanny. “But Y/N, are you okay? Did you get hurt? I can take you to the first aid kit!”

“No, no, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” You waved him off and began preparing for the guests again.

“I see… Well, have a rockin’ day Y/N!” he said with a cheeky smile as he turned to wander off. He stopped, however, mid-walk and turned back to you. Ah, here it comes… “Oh! I almost forgot! I meant to give you something!”

He rushed back to you, toddling as fast as his husky build would allow. You pretended to be confused with a raise of an eyebrow. He lifted a clenched paw and gently unraveled his clawed digits to reveal a small pin resting in his palm. “Ta-da!”

“Aw, you found my nametag!” you exclaimed. You smiled and reached out to take it. It was a cute name tag, you were quite fond of it; it had a space for your name—already written in cursive. Colorful confetti surrounded it and an adorable cartoon Toy Freddy hung off the side as if giving your name a big bear hug. You actually had quite a few of these by now. What started as a simple mistake had turned into a habit when you began leaving them at home. Sure, your collection had grown a bit excessive, but the expression on Freddy’s face when he handed you a new one every day made it hard to reject another one. He just looked so proud.

You placed the pin snugly on the right side of your uniform vest, ensuring it wouldn’t fall off again. “I don’t know how I keep losing these. Thanks, Teddy bear,” you said and smiled up at him.

He grinned, almost bashfully. “You’re very welcome, Y/N. Try not to lose it this time!” he said with a goofy chuckle. “Oh, look at the time! I’d better get on stage before the others give me an earful again!” You chuckled and waved goodbye as he made his way back to the dining hall.

The morning flew by about as quickly as a tortoise. It was that time of day when nobody really came in and by god you were bored. The only time you found yourself stimulated was when the occasional group of hungover teens or an older couple with grandkids came by to enjoy an early morning pizza. You may have been a bit guilty of holding them hostage just for a little socializing—yeah, you really were that desperate by now. You did, however, have a few opportunities to chat with coworkers and the occasional bot when they were granted off-stage privileges..

Toy Bonnie was the first to greet you. He usually was, being the annoying bunny he was. You were minding your own, checking off seats on your clipboard when the blue idiot slid up behind you. “Hey there, dollface,” he said in his squeaky, chipmunk-like voice. You nearly jumped right out of your skin. No really, you felt like your soul had ejected itself and flown away. “Sheesh, someone’s a jumpy bunny today!”

“What do you want, Bon?” you asked, but not before giving him a very obvious eye roll.

“Woah, you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today or somethin’?” he giggled. You stared at him blankly. “Say, I know what’ll cheer you up!”

“What’s that?”

Bonnie leaned closer and slumped a heavy arm across your shoulders. “Alright, sugar, imagine this—tonight, a dazzling rockstar and the most darling host team up for the ultimate after-hours hang. Sound tempting?”

You stared at him. He stared at you. You threw his arm off of your shoulders and walked away.

“Hey, wait! Where ya goin’ honey buns?”

“Don’t call me that!”

As the hours carried on, so did you, and soon enough it would become the afternoon rush. You were growing quite sick of this day already.

The guests piled in by the dozens. Lunch for three here, Party Room B for ten there, I want a booth, we need a highchair, can I have a napkin, please? Where’s my fork? Why isn’t Chica wearing her beak? My kid’s thumb is stuck in the arcade machine, my son is missing, his name is David! Save him! Why can’t you save him? Help, my pizza has an eyeball on it! What? No, not a real one, it’s a plastic eye! How did that happen? Why was it your problem, anyway? Oh dear lord, you needed a break.

“HI.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You whipped around. “...Hey BB.”

“HI. HA HA HA HA.” He waddled away. What’s with these robots sneaking up behind you? You sighed and rubbed your temples. Breathe, Y/N, breathe, and smile.

“Y/N? Honey, you look exhausted…” You were too tired to even react this time. You hazily turned to face Toy Chica. “Hey, why don’t you take a break for a little bit? I can handle the guests.”

You smiled at her. At least, you thought you smiled. You weren’t sure. Nonetheless, you shook your head. “Nice of you to offer, but I can’t leave my post.”

“Oh, come on, you can rest for a couple minutes! No one will notice, I promise,” she pleaded and put a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. The feathers on her arm tickled the back of your neck. “Besides, isn’t this when you usually take a break?”

Huh. You weren’t sure actually. You were a tad too tired to argue, though, so you sighed and nodded.

“Ahh! Yay! Ohh, I promise I’ll make you proud Y/N! Don’t you worry, I’ll do everything perfectly!” she squealed and clapped her clawed hands. You already had a feeling you were making a mistake.

Time must have been warping because, by the time you had started feeling regrets it was too late, you were already in the employee lounge. You half expected to be greeted by another coworker, but it seemed everyone was too busy to rest. You weren’t sure why Toy Chica had offered to cover you when there were plenty of waiters, janitors, and cashiers working ten times the amount you were.

Perhaps it was just a matter of robotic limitations. You supposed you wouldn’t trust an animatronic to mop vomit or carry greasy pizza either. Did robots steal? What would they even do with the money? Could they count change? Of course, they could, dummy. You sat there staring off into space as you argued with your own mind about what robots could and couldn’t do for quite a while. You could’ve sworn you’d had this debate before…

The door creaked open allowing a looming shadow to cast over you. You felt a spike of panic surge through your body. How long have you been gone? How could you let a robot chicken take over your job? Your boss was totally going to fire you.

Okay, okay, calm down Y/N. Breathe. You’ll just have to take care of whoever found you before they snitch! Yeah, that’ll do it… Wait, what if it was your boss? You couldn’t kill your boss! Oh god, breathe…!

He stood there, staring down at the panicking you. He lingered for a bit too long, as if he was observing, rather than simply looking. After some time, he entered the room, almost hesitantly. As the door closed behind him your eyes finally adjusted back to the dim lighting. You breathed a sigh of relief as you realized it was only Freddy. It was an odd quirk of yours he’d noticed; you seemed to relax more around the robots than the other humans. He’d always wondered why.

“Hey Teddy bear, whatcha doin’ here?” you asked. He tilted his head, and the light no longer hit his eyes. Something about him felt… off. It was then that you felt that odd shiver wash over you again.

“You shouldn’t be in here alone, you know,” he said. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the comment. Was the air in here staler than usual? Did the light always flicker this much? Was the vending machine always so damn loud? You wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“You’ve worked too hard today, haven’t you?” he asked gently. You gave him a small, almost unnoticeable nod. “Would you like me to cover for you? I can greet guests. I can smile. I can even ask if they’d like a booster seat. Just like you do.”

You felt your brows furrow. “You’re not supposed to do my job for me, Freddy. Besides, you’re on birthday duty today, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but I’d like for you to rest…” he said, and you weren’t sure what to think of that. It was a nice sentiment, but why did he put it like that? “If I recall correctly, I’ve only been booked for one party today.”

One party. Right, you’d forgotten about that one. It was the last one of the day, starting in…You glanced up at the clock hanging above him. Fifteen minutes.

“Shit! Freddy, we gotta get going!” you hissed. You jumped up, grabbed his paw, and went for the door. In your mind you were running; in reality, you were very slowly dragging a very heavy and unmotivated bear across the pizzeria. You thought you’d heard him scold your use of curse words, but you weren’t concerned with that at the moment. How on earth had you spaced out for an entire four hours? Who even scheduled a party for 7:30 pm?

By the time you’d made it to Party Room C, it was supposed to be C, right? Well, regardless, it was now. You took a look at the clock, eight minutes till the party.

You practically threw yourself onto the party plates and hats, laying them out as quickly as you could manage. No, wait, that’s wrong; you had to clean the table first, then lay down the plates. You started over. Toy Freddy just stood there watching. Observing.

As you finished tying up the last balloon you glanced at the time. Three minutes. The guests should be checking in anytime now. You sighed a breath of relief as you checked your clipboard.

Party Room C? Check. 7:30 pm? Thank god. Toy Freddy? You glanced up at him. His eyes bore into yours. …Check. Everything seemed correct.

Except, there was no information on the guests themselves. No name, number, guest list, nothing. You weren’t sure what to make of it. Perhaps Freddy knew something, you thought.

“Teddy, do you happen to know who this party is reserved for?” you asked, gazing up at him hopefully. He shook his head. “Are you sure? You didn’t overhear it or anything? Didn’t I tell you earlier?”

“Y/N, why are you so worried?” he asked and stepped closer. Sometimes you forgot just how tall the toys were, but at the moment you were all too aware. You frowned. “You’ve already done this one before. Don’t you remember?” You didn’t have an answer for him. Toy Freddy took your hand in his paw and led you back to the lobby. The lights seemed a bit dim tonight. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You just need to rest,” he said. It was only now that you realized he’d led you to the entrance. You wondered why.

Why did everything feel so… hazy?

It feels like every day is the same, doesn’t it? Wake up, get dressed, clock in, and do the day—no variation, no surprises; like a looping song, repeating itself forever.

#ahh #forgive me yall #i got a bit lazy #at the end #fnaf #fnaf 2 #fnaf fandom #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #fnaf x y/n #toy freddy #fnaf fanfic #toy bonnie #toy chica #balloon boy #five nights at freddys 2 #thank you #for reading <3

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melodramamirrors · 4 months ago

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Glamrocks x Funtime! reader

Summary: After a successful salvage, Y/N the Funtime animatronic has become the new centerpiece of the Pizzaplex’s all new History of Freddy’s attraction. You’ve been fixed up, embellished and improved. There was just one little issue. You were a tad aggressive. In fact, you hated humans the most.

Fazbear Entertainment’s solution? Make it someone else’s problem!

🧸Glamrock Freddy🎤

Kind, gentle, and understanding, he was the obvious choice. There was no better fit for the job than Glamrock Freddy. So, as the long day came to a close, Freddy was taken off to an unfinished section of the Pizzaplex. When he asked, the staff had mentioned something about the new animatronic not liking humans, thus he was left on his own at the entrance. Like a child left at the daycare for the first time, he thought.

If the daycare looked as decrepit as this place, then he supposed he could understand the child’s fear—hypothetically. Nonetheless, he swept the thought away and pressed on, through the doors. He had a duty to uphold, after all. It was time to give the newest bot a warm welcome.

The hall was quite gloomy. Shadows stretched across the near-empty room. Just past the retro arcades, there you were; alone in the darkness, just barely illuminated by the dim spotlight shining above. And how amazing you were. Freddy had never seen anything like you.

“Hello, my name is Freddy Fazbear. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted. He waited for a moment, and then another but your eyes never opened. “...May I ask what your name is?”

And again, you refused to grant him a single ounce of acknowledgment. Although Freddy was privy to your standoffish façade, he hoped to at least get a word out of you. He was The Freddy Fazbear after all. No, that was just his ego talking, he knew deep down that you did not owe him your attention. You were probably just nervous, or maybe you just needed space.

The robot bear let out a thoughtful hum.

Over the next few weeks, he’d taken the time to come visit you every night. He only spent a few hours with you, sometimes just to ramble about his day, other times he’d sing, and often he’d simply sit in silence with you. You still hadn’t spoken a single word. It wasn’t really that you meant to be rude, but you had learned long ago that kindness—true kindness did not exist. There was always some kind of motive, some objective, some goal. This bot couldn’t have been any different… And yet here he was, every night, just for you. How curious, you thought.

This time though, it seemed he did have a goal. You couldn’t be sure, but there was something about his gait that felt… strangely purposeful tonight.

As usual, Freddy made his way to the right side of your auditorium and leaned himself against the wall. He didn’t face you, only gazing upon the Fazbear-themed museum you’d been forced to call home. Over the many days of construction, it had begun to look like a proper establishment. It seemed your display was nearly complete, ready to be unveiled. Normally Freddy would be excited about this, however, tonight he was starting to feel the pressure to get you talking. So, he decided to ask a question, one that had been plaguing his restless mind for some time now.

“Y/N…” he hesitated, “Was there a… Freddy at your previous location?” he asked almost timidly. You supposed it was a fair question, so for the first time, you responded aloud.

“Yes,” you said. You felt his eyes bore into you from the side. You knew he wasn’t satisfied. A moment of silence passed.

“Do I remind you of him?” he asked, though the usually calm tone of his voice seemed a bit off, a bit hurried. You considered ignoring such a ridiculous question, but it seemed your voicebox had already decided the answer.

“No,” you turned to look at him, faceplates shifting gently. It was yet another first, you met his eyes with your own, noticing how they glowed a deep, electric blue. He didn’t resemble your old friend at all, save for those eyes, and a few accessories.

“You’re nothing like him.”

Freddy wasn’t sure what to make of that, but something told him it would be best to leave it at that. Well, he supposed it was progress. You hadn’t spoken again since, but he didn’t mind and still came to visit every night. He’d never forget that look in your eyes.

🐔Glamrock Chica🍕

It had come as no surprise when the glamrocks were informed of Chica being chosen to be your talk therapist of sorts. Out of all of the band, Chica was by far the most sociable. Chit-chat and gossip were just totally her jam. Well, it wasn’t a surprise to the others, but Chica found it to be a delightful honor. To say Chica was excited would be a disgusting understatement, no; she was absolutely ecstatic.

Although she had been briefed on your little… situation, as the staff referred to it, she was confident she'd have you broken out of your shell in no time. It wasn’t until she made her way to the new Pizzaplex historical section, and caught sight of your miniature auditorium, that she finally realized the gravity of your situation.

There you were, sitting alone beneath the spotlights of your tiny glass display, entirely unlike anything she’d ever seen. Though she didn’t recognize your character, it was the odd seams lining your body that intrigued her. Needless to say, she spent a good while simply taking in your unusual features.

Of course, the fear of getting caught staring eventually caught up to her, and she figured it would be more polite to announce herself. Clearing her voice gently, she offered a simple, “Hi.” She was taken aback, however, when your eyes snapped open, and your distinct faceplates shifted apart almost instinctively.

So, you were as unique and off-putting as the staff had rumored. But Chica was a kind and open-minded bot, and she was determined to present herself as such. “Ahaha… wow! Those are some neat face… thingies you’ve got there!” she babbled, folding her clawed hands. “Oh! Let me introduce myself. My name is…?” she paused as she noticed you had shifted closer. You lifted a paw to the glass and uttered a single word.

“...Chica?”

How on earth you guessed her name was beyond her, but for you, it was simply obvious, albeit appalling. With white feathers, an orange beak, and a fashionably pink outfit, the resemblance was uncanny. For a moment, you were sure that you were standing before an old friend.

In an instant, your mind filled with memories from your days as a rental entertainer—the days of singing and dancing, the sweet scent of birthday cake, and the chilling darkness of the underground storage you had once called home.

You recalled the painfully electric discipline you and your bandmates endured, the desperation you all felt, and the heartache that festered inside you as you watched your friends escape without you. They had left you to rot. All but one.

And here you were, trapped within yet another glass prison, gazing upon the beautiful old face of the one who had never left you all those years ago. Your mouth hung agape as your voicebox desperately sputtered. Just as you finally found the courage to speak, a gasp escaped Chica’s beak.

“Woah, how’d you know my name? Are you some kind of oracle? You are, aren’t you? That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to meet one!” she squealed with the bubbly excitement of a child.

Just like that, the delusion had shattered. The awe in her starstruck eyes told it all; she was not your Chica; no, she was just another variant. Just another stranger. You felt your faceplates shift with agitation as you let your paws slip away from the glass. No words could accurately describe the complete and utter despair that engulfed you in one swift bite. Defeated, you slumped back into yourself.

“H-hey, what’s wrong? Was it something I said? Oh, I’m so sorry!” she blabbered, reaching out as if to embrace you through the glass. It was an impossible action, but how sweet it was. You scooted away and turned to face the towering wall of your little auditorium. Chica frowned and dropped her outstretched arms. She figured that was her cue to leave.

With heavy reluctance, she turned away and trudged off to her greenroom, pondering what she had done wrong along the way. Maybe it was the oracle comment? Perhaps she hadn’t been affable enough. She realized she had been a bit impolite with her gawking and all.

Or maybe she had simply overstayed her welcome. Whatever the case, she hoped she would be given another chance to make it up to you, if that was even possible at all.

🐊Montgomery Gator⛳️

Well, truthfully speaking, no one told Monty to go looking for you. No, the gator had taken it upon himself to scope out the new attraction on his own. He’d heard the rumors of course, from the catwalks where he’d always eavesdrop. The guests seemed quite excited about the reveal of a brand-new attraction, they often speculated on what could be inside. But Montgomery knew; he’d heard from the staff. They found one, a functional one, an old relic from the past. And it was strange.

What was everyone so excited about? Just some old junk and a barely operational bot? How could something like that ever compare to him? Why waste your time oohing and awing at something so… inferior, when he was standing right here? Nonetheless, he did find himself rather curious, he’d have to go and see what all the commotion was about for himself, so he found his way to the new attraction and snuck—no, barged inside.

This place was clearly a work in progress, with exposed concrete for a floor, empty display cases, and boxes of dusty nick-nacks haphazardly strewn about. He even spotted a few rusty endo-skeleton parts lying within a few of the acrylic glass cases. Creepy.

But that wasn’t what he came here for and soon enough, he found you.

All alone, sitting lifelessly, with your head slumped over. You sat on a little stage wrapped in glass, with one measly spotlight shining above. No curtains, no instruments, just you.

So that was the amazing new animatronic, Y/N the Funtime? What a joke, the gator thought as he lazily sauntered closer. Well, you certainly looked old, outdated, useless, but at least you were clean.

“Hey, newbie. Wake up,” he commanded. His voice was gruff, and his tone unfriendly; you didn’t like that. Truth be told, you didn’t from the moment he’d stepped into the attraction. Yes, you were awake and you knew he was there all along. You were a specialist in hide-and-seek, after all. But you weren’t in the mood for seeking right now, and there was nowhere to hide, so you settled for ignoring him.

“Aye, I’m talkin’ to you! Is that how you treat a new pal?” he sneered, his long tail swaying irritably. To no avail; you must not be as functional as the others said you were. “Old hunk of junk.” You were nothing special in his eyes.

However there was something that did catch his eye, and he lifted his star-shaped sunglasses to have a look. It was a rusty-looking control panel, stationed right before your auditorium, and it only had two buttons. Intrigued, Monty reached out his claws. No.

You jolted forward, faceplates gaping wide open to reveal your piercing eyes and sharp fangs as you smashed yourself against the glass. An ear-splitting screech ejected from your voicebox, rattling your entire shell of a body. Monty swung himself away from the glass.

“What in the Sam Hill?!” he shouted, though he found relief as he realized you remained within your little enclosure. If he could swear, he would’ve just then.“What the leapin’ lizards is wrong with you? Just ‘bout gave me a heart attack!”

Perhaps he didn’t get your message. You gnashed your teeth and screamed again, this time with far more ferocity. Your claws dug into the glass, and though unable to penetrate it, you were able to leave fine scratches. The gator seemed less fazed this time, though he still took a step back. “Alright, alright, I get it, I won’t touch anything,” he grunted and raised his claws. “Why’re you ignorin’ me anyway, huh?”

You let yourself relax at his admission of defeat and allowed your faceplates to draw closed. Such a punk he was, to come barging in on your space, demand your attention, and insult you to your face. What gave him the right? And now he expects an explanation? What else did he want, an apology? Such arrogance. He was about as sensitive as Foxy, you thought.

You knew he had no idea what the function of that control panel was, but the mere thought of being punished—by another animatronic no less—infuriated you. You had no choice but to scare him straight. But the more time went on, the less scared Monty became; instead, he grew irritated as well.

In a sharp, unnatural motion, you heaved yourself up from the floor. Even when elevated, you only surpassed Monty’s height by a few centimeters. Faceplates shifting so very unnaturally as you gazed upon the reptile apathetically, taking in his features. For the first time in a while, Montgomery Gator found himself nearly unable to speak. It was something about your eyes, how they bore into him, gazing so lifelessly. He wondered if human eyes ever looked like that. “...You ain’t no normal bot… that’s for sure.”

“Are you scared?” you asked. Monty glared.

“Nah, ain’t nothin’ scary. Yer jus’ a freak.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he was telling you, or himself. You tilted your head.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you said and lifted a paw to the glass. What a strangely sweet voice you had. “Sometimes you should be.”

“I told ya! I ain’t scared of nothin’. ‘Specially not no weirdo clown.” Something dark flickered behind his eyes. “Somethin’ like you don’t belong here. Not ‘n this place.”

“You should leave,” you said simply. A silence hung in the air for some time; you never broke eye contact. The spotlight began to flicker.

Monty huffed and spun on his heel. “With pleasure,” he grunted. You watched as he left with slow and deliberate steps. You wondered if he’d come back again someday. It was a lonely stage.

🐺Roxanne Wolf🦴

You stood there, gazing at your figure from the reflection glaring against the glass wall. You hardly even recognized yourself anymore with freshly groomed fur, spotless paint, and glossy eyes. It was especially odd to feel the lack of rust and dirt between your joints. It was almost as if they’d erased every last reminder of that dark time. However, the question still weighed heavy on your mind; where on earth had all that time gone?

And yet here you were, trapped within a tiny auditorium of your own, surrounded by the many familiar bits and bobs of your past. Displays full of old props, and worn machinery, sat before you. Your entire life was laid out for future tourists to gawk at. It was nostalgic, in a twisted sense, as though some part of you missed that hell hole you’d once been kept in. As above, so below, you supposed. Half heartedly, you wondered if this was how a fish in a pet store might feel. For some reason, you found a strange comfort in the buzzing of the flickering spotlight shining down upon you. You blinked at the reflection of your face—it blinked back.

The silence, save for the vibrations of electricity flowing through the walls, was broken by the sound of distant footsteps.

When the staff asked for a Glamrock to welcome you, to everyone’s surprise, Roxanne volunteered herself. She was the most popular bot for a reason after all, who wouldn’t want to meet her? The others were a bit hesitant, Freddy especially, but Roxy made the case that only a loner could break the ice with another, so he allowed it. Reluctantly.

Within the shadows of the construction zone, you stuck out like a white rabbit in the night. Roxanne approached you with a clawed paw on her hip. You watched her reflection in the glass, beside your own, analyzing her without the need to face her. She was beautiful, tall, and advanced; it seemed the new generation of bots had quite the upgrade. Though, you weren’t sure who she was. Perhaps it was a new version of Foxy? Why was she grey? As a matter of fact, why did she seem feminine? Your Foxy never had a true gendered presentation. Foxy… You wondered if they were out there somewhere. Part of you hoped they weren’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss them, but you knew there wasn’t anywhere for them to go—the world had no place for you Funtimes.

“You’re not even gonna look at me?” Roxanne asked. Oh, right, her. You’d forgotten she was there. With a slow turn of your head, you gazed down at her. “That’s better. Say, pup, what’s your name?”

Your name? It took you a moment to recall and though you opened your maw to respond, you decided against it. You weren’t sure if this bot could be trusted.

“Hmph. Shy types,” she said, thick eyebrows knitted. She crossed her arms. “Name’s Roxanne Wolf, your pleasure to meet me.” Oh, so she was an entirely new character. She certainly had a showmanship about her, just like Foxy. An ego.

“Somethin’ wrong with your voice or what?” she said with a sneer. “Not sure what I expected. Of course something as old as you can’t speak.” There was an air of superiority leeching from her. That distinctly belittling tone of her voice was sinking beneath your faux skin. You felt your plastic hair stand on edge—something dangerous flickered behind your plastic eyes.

“I can speak just fine,” you said. “I choose not to.”

“Well, ‘least you got a voice,” she shifted her stance, putting her weight to one side. “Got a name too?”

“Y/N,” you said. It had been a long time since you’d heard that name aloud, even longer since you introduced yourself. What a stupid name it was. “The pleasure is no one’s.”

Roxanne glared for a moment. You wondered if you had pissed her off, but why had she smirked like that?

“Y/N… suits you,” she said as her scrutinizing gaze trailed up and down your body. For some reason, you suddenly felt a bit self conscious. “So, like… What’s this whole kicked puppy act anyway?”

“What?” you asked as she rolled her eyes in response.

“Y’know, the whole ‘I’m so miserable’ look.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that and a strangely disturbing silence lay thickly between the two of you. Your faceplates twitched. You felt this irritating itch to reach out and grab her, to show her what you were really feeling; the best you could do was lean against the glass, outstretched claws tapping dangerously upon the barrier.

“Let me out, and I’ll show you,” you said with a slight tilt of your head.

Roxanne wasn’t sure what had come over you, it was as if one moment you were fine, and the next you appeared as some kind of monster. That was when she realized the soulless look in your eyes like you’d rip her apart if you could. You couldn’t, of course, but she now understood the meaning behind the “Do Not Touch” warning pasted against the glass frame. Roxy shook her head.

“Nah. Something tells me you deserve to be in there.” You watched as she stepped back before turning on her metallic heel and left. Alone at last; just like you were meant to be.

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