#i'm not a frequent golden duo writer so I hope that my depiction of them (and cassidy's implied design) and the surreal vibe i went for

[valleyfthdolls]

Drabble request: basically the missing kids + golden duo(cc and Cass). All forget their memories and names, so they go by their animatronic names, and act like the animatronic personalities.

(also cc and Cass)( are regarded as one person, even though they are separate, so like Fred or Goldie)

"Chica."

The little girl tilts her head. It's jerky, robotic. Years ago, she used to have a looser neck, she thinks. She glances.

The child awaiting her is blurry, its visage shifting, warping and distorting like it can't make up its mind. Through the monstrous yellow body, she can make out black, curly hair tied into pigtails. It stares blankly at her. Dressed in a ripped, baggy golden shirt with puff sleeves adorned with the dirtiest purple bow tie and vest she's ever seen, it stands with purpose, and oh. Goldie is acting like itself again. Chica swivels, turns around and faces it. Its image is blurry in her pretty blue eyes, shining a fuchsia hue under the stage lights. Its voice is whispery, but determined. Angry. Goldie is mad again, she thinks.

Trying her best not to upset it by noticing the difference, Chica smiles, and the skin of her cheeks crinkles and stretches painfully. She clasps her hands together.

"Goldie! Good to see ya got your wits about ya again, dear," She coos hollowly, her throat hurting with every word she speaks. She thinks there was something there once. Something cold, something metal. She swallows. It burns. Goldie scowls.

"Someone is here."

Chica's smile drops.

She doesn't like intruders. Not one bit. Not after they took her away from wherever she was supposed to have come from- the factory they made her body in, the pizzeria that used to be here.

"D- do Freddy n' the others know?" She whispers. Foxy won't like this, not one bit. Oh, and poor Freddy- the sweet little thing never got over his fear of the dark, and he'll be so upset knowing they've got someone lurking in the shadows. It doesn't help him to know that they're the monsters under the bed.

"Fredbear told them already," It rasps, pointing to its blue eye and tap-tap-tapping. "They're angry. They're real angry."

"Is that so?" Her voice rises, fearful. Goldie- Fredbear- either or, really- is angry. It always is. But it carries an air of seriousness- of barely masked fear and a desperation for self defense. Her eyes ask a silent question, a beg for an explanation that goes unseen and unregarded. Is it that man?

There's a man that Chica knows. The man, maybe, who took her from the factory, the pizzeria she was made in, stretched her skin and cut her neck and made her body rigid. All Chica knows is that because of that man, the world is no longer safe if it ever was.

"You know him," Goldie hisses. Chica's hinges are slow, awkward. When her head moves to face Goldie again, it's not looking at her, or any of the other children. It seems to be looking at itself. It nods carefully, and shaggy brown hair falls into its face. "I know him."

"Goldie? What's goin' on?"

"Shut up." Goldie's red eye briefly glances up at Chica as it brushes back a black curl that's slipped loose from its pigtails after years without brushing or washing. "You know him, Fredbear. Who is he?"

Chica steps back, not wanting to anger Goldie. Everyone is angry. Everyone is so angry all the time. The anger burning in Chica's little body is enough to make her want to burst. It scares her. It physically makes her sick with revulsion, and if she ever had a stomach she would throw it all up in the bathroom and it would come out tasting like old pizza. She wipes her mouth, almost preemptively. Her servo motors whir, air pressure valves clicking with the jerky movement.

"I will not let him touch us. Do you hear me, Fredbear? I will fucking kill him." Too young to be saying such nasty things. Chica frowns. Did it ever have parents? Did its creators ever scold it for its language? "Tell me. If it's not him, who is he?"

Suddenly drained of energy, Goldie looks down the hallway, a brown curl falling over its face. Its blue eye stares wistfully. Chica clasps her hands together again, preparing to try to butter it up so that no one else has to do anything that will make anyone more upset and no one has to make her any more afraid. Her cheeks ache as she prepares to smile.

"...I know him," It repeats.

(Drabble requests are open! Check pinned.)

(If you want a more specific situation that might focus on other characters, lmk and I can try to whip something else up for you too!)