Fredbear Stockholm (YanderePurpleGuy X Reader)

They just stare

Content days without negativity were a rarity. One time Peter may've been rolling in good fortunes, everything going his way until—

until it stopped.

Dwelling too far into the past, he thinks. There used to be something—a possession—, a completion that supplied him with fulfillment, like a generator. It was gone, and although it wasn't necessarily vital, it permanently impinged his perception. 

Some could argue that the Man was and always will be the same, but there was definitely a new, re-patterned Principle patched over the essence of his subconscious that only he was aware of. 

And he hated it.

Once in a blue moon he'd be graced without ghosts of past reverie drilling in his mind like a bad splinter.

Peter watched as a kid held up a birthday balloon while standing next to Balloon Boy in mimicry. The dwarf animatronic charmed its signature laugh before its eyes shot in His direction.

With its sensory working, Peter waited for the Hi! or Hello! to ring from its voice box upon recognition. No such greeting. Its vibrant eyes only marked his every move as he passed through.

               Owell, 

he figured. He scanned the stage area, ignoring hyper kids before noticing something off about Chica; her beak was crooked.

               Loose,

He groused. This seemed to be a reoccurring problem and it was a pain to deal with, especially during business hours where kids would see staff perform maintenance. Things were better at the original Fazbear's, he thinks. The older stage at least had curtains to hide repairs. 

He moved closer, calculating if it required tools or just a simple pop.

               That's a wonderful one! Wanna know what MY favorite color is?

Chica spoke, triggering a "yes" from the small group of kids before her. Most of them believed she could hear their shouts and guesses. 

Peter heard the crap before many times. Knowing what dialogue came next, he instinctively waited for the It's pink! I think that's a beautiful color! 

This would be followed by Bonnie saying his was blue, and Freddy red. At times there would be at least one argument from the kids on which color was better. Luckily these animatronics were programmed to end the topic with: Remember kids, not everyone likes the same thing, and that's okay! You're ALL wonderful!

Peter did his best to not disturb them while inspecting Chica. Her varnished blue eyes locked onto his image, and stayed there. 

               Finish the dialogue! 

He thought, only to wonder why he was so concerned.

"What is it?" squeaked a girl. The robot remained motionless. 

"I bet it's orange!" said another kid.

"Orange is ugly!"

"Is NOT! Brown's ugly!"

The girl agreed before continuing to guess. As for Peter, he noticed an unnerving detail when glancing at the other two characters on stage; they too were frozen, gazes empty as if he had no business being this close.

               If they've already scanned, then what's with the hold up? 

he wondered. He finally stepped backwards. When out the reach of facial recognition everything carried on. Their heads snicked back to the kids. 

               It's Pink! I think that's a beautiful color!

A girl rejoiced in guessing correctly. Bonnie proceeded in sharing his favorite, then Freddy. 

"Okay...That was a bit strange." Peter admitted to himself.

               Must be a lock up, 

he reckoned, thinking the severs were having trouble returning to their dialogues after recognizing an adult. He left the stage area to test one last animatronic.

Poor Toy Foxy was the victim of a new game the kids made up around the same time the restaurant opened its door. The band trio were safe from curious hands thanks to their stage. Foxy had no such barrier.

Kids learned real fast how simple it was to physically manipulate an endoskeleton. Technically the staff had to loosen up the joints, making it fall apart in a crumble if kids were to stick their hands between the body plates. It was all for safety. Foxy was easy to put back together as well, but the children always chose to experiment at what they could make out of his remains.

For a while the staff loathed wasting time at night in repairing him until someone decided to just stop doing it. The kids seemed to have more fun in making a mangle out of Foxy anyway, thus birthing his new nickname. As long as his voice box and server still operated smoothy, management didn't have a problem with this new attraction. Only way someone could get hurt from this fox was if it defied its programming and got up and attacked someone on its own will. But that could never happen.

Peter found the fox's head stuck to a heap of metal as the kids tried thinking of what to make out of him.

               Don't forget to include ME in the fun, kids!

His shiny yellow eyes shuttered before acknowledging Peter's presence. It was another case of being gawked at with no reaction. 

               You too, huh? 

Peter thought. Well that settled things. 

He exited Kid's Cove and went to retrieve one of his mechanics. He was near the Parts and Services room when he found someone exiting through the door.

"Uh...hey." the young man greeted his boss respectfully.

"Hey. I need you to take a look at the animatronics. They're having an issue with locking up whenever they see a grown-up...aaand with how their security defense is we do not need them mistaking anyone for a criminal. So I need you on this pronto." Peter informed. 

"That's strange. I just worked on them this morning. And they were doing fine minutes ago. At least Foxy was last time I saw him."

The two headed over and observed Kid's Cove again. Just then two parents walked in to fetch their kid. Foxy's eyes spotted them and instantly began talking;

               Hey there! Have you come to join in? 

Peter's gut knotted. It locked in a stare with him not even a minute ago! So what was the meaning of this?