#no animatronics

It's officially been five years since I began posting Freedom AU on the internet! (I say on the internet, because I published it first on Quotev, this day five years ago, but didn't actually bring it to Wattpad until like August 29th of 2021 sooo-)

Five years is kinda wild for a fanfic series. Five years of the same AU fan media that I've just been writing and drawing on my little corner of the internet. While sometimes I feel like I could've spent those five years making a fully original series, I quickly remind myself that these haven't been five years wasted. A lot has good has come about from Freedom AU, and not gonna lie, I wanna see what more can come of it if I give it another five years.

Y'all are hearing it here first, we're gonna get to "10 Years of Freedom AU" or my creativity will die trying! (Which if that happens that means something very wrong has happened to me, and you have my full permission to freak out UvU).

Buuuut for now, we're just celebratin' the milestone of five years. As always, with a fun portrait! (I swear I always feel like I'm excluding characters in these portraits, but when you've got like over 28 characters making up the main cast, y'a can't include everyoneee TvT)

Thought it'd be nice, this year, to pose us all somewhere that wasn't an unidentified room with a couch, or some pastel colored void where we all just stand. So, we're all up at the front of the Fazbear-Grant Freedom Sanctuary!

Lil detail to point out, Gus is on a stool behind me. He is, in fact, not that tall, but when I was sketching I didn't know where to squeeze him in. (The sides of the image cut off exactly where the page does lol). So he has a stool, if you look closely-

That's all for my yapping. It's been a great five years, and with every chapter I post, I just grow closer to this little AU I created and its characters—OC or not. And for as much fun as I have planning, and writing, and making art for this AU, I'm also happy it's got some readers who enjoy the series.

So, thank you for reading! Hope to see y'all follow along with where ever I take this AU in the future 💜

I'd also like to give a special thanks to le followin' peeps~~

✧ @kittytoasteere who I met through writing Freedom AU. She understands this AU as well as I do, and has gotten me to think more improv(?)/creatively/outside-the-box about the characters and the world building, over the last year especially, mostly via "what if" scenarios. Plus she's just fun to bounce ideas off of, and y'all can find some of her art sprinkled in various books ✨

✧ @sweetlilbirb who's a regular reader of Freedom AU. You're awesome, absolutely never change! ⭐

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥, 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝔽𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕠𝕞 𝔸𝕌! 🎉🎂🎈

✧ ✧ ✧

𝙁𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝘼𝙐 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩!

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You plopped down in your chair, sighing while rubbing hand sanitizer over your hands. Your shift had been busy as hell, this being the first break you had all day, and it was only halfway over. You wiped your now clean hands over your eyes, trying to rub the tired soreness out of them. At least the pay is good, you thought.

Your coworker calling your name pulled you away from your thoughts.

“25 wants you again.” They said.

“Why me?” You whined.

“I don’t know, I think she prefers women.” They answered your rhetorical, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck me, I’m going to have to take my lunch after this. I’m never working another Sunday.” You said, standing up on your practically creaking legs.

This was how the rest of your afternoon went, running in all directions like a chicken with its head cut off. “23 wants an ice cream,” “25 pulled out her IV again,” “Call security on 26, he’s trying to leave.” It was an absolute shit show, you hardly had a chance to see the time on your phone, let alone check for a text that you were desperate to receive.

Your drive home was quiet, soft music playing to hopefully decompress you. It always seemed to help. You pulled into your driveway, noticing the lights on at a certain someone’s house across the street, his old Accord telling you that he was home. You turned your car off, trying to stop looking at it from your rearview.

Walking into your house wasn’t as satisfying as you’d hoped, boxes still covering the floor. You took your shoes off as you set your work bag on the ground. You looked at your bed frame again in the dark, not bothering to turn a light on. Was a day too early to expect a message? Was that considered desperate? Probably, you thought. But fuck, you were so desperate. He checked all the boxes,

cute? : check

siblings? : check

caring? : check

a little mean? : check

dorky as hell? : check

abandonment issues? : probably check!

You forced yourself to pull your eyes off the box. As the saying goes, a watched fish doesn’t get caught.

That’s not right, you think. Your tired brain can’t decipher what you were trying to go for, but you knew it would’ve worked.

Anyways, constantly thinking about someone texting you doesn’t help anything. You plugged your phone into the charger near the couch, purposefully ignoring staring at it for too long.

Your eyes fell back to the boxes surrounding you. You passed them all, going straight to your bathroom to shower.

The shower was the right call, you decided. Scorching water loosened your muscles and kept your mind in the present. Washing the outside world off your skin was the highlight of your day.

You got out of the shower, eventually. The warm water didn’t last as long as you had hoped, though it did try. Your nearly hour-long shower would overwhelm any water heater on the market. You quickly dried yourself off, taking the time to brush your teeth and apply your skincare before wrapping your towel around yourself and stepping into your bedroom. You threw on some pajamas from your suitcase that moved with you; pajama pants and an old shirt.

You balled up your work clothes into your towel and put them all in the laundry basket in the corner of your room, already beginning to overflow. You reminded yourself to start the laundry sometime tomorrow as you walked back to your temporary bed, the large green couch in your living room.

You pulled back the covers on the couch, piling into it. You had completely decked it out; two blankets, a comforter, two pillows (one for your head, one for between your legs), and the fan dialed up. You closed your eyes, listening to the white noise of the fan above you.

You were interrupted by the shrill noise of your phone ringing behind you. You groaned, folding your blankets over so you could get off the couch and walk to the charger. You ripped your phone off the charger, taking it with you as you laid back into your bed. You re-adjusted your blankets before pulling the phone under your ear and swiping to accept the call.

“Hello?” You said groggily.

“Hey.” A voice responded. It took you a moment, but eventually, you recognized it. You were suddenly awake with nervousness.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hi. Um, I texted you,” He said, sounding more like a question than a comment. “A few times, not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.” He joked.

You paused, trying to quickly check your messages.

“You there?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Sorry, I’ve been working all day. It was super busy, so I didn’t have time to check my phone, and when I got home all I was thinking about was sleep.” You described.

“No need to be sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” You responded.

“Good, good,” He pauses. “So, um, how was your day?”

“Pretty shitty.” You summarize, hearing him laugh in the background.

“Tell me about it.”

So, you did. You proceeded to tell him all the gritty details about your job. What your coworkers are like, the patients that you had to deal with, the frequent fliers, all of it. He asked a lot of questions, making you feel more comfortable rambling on to him.

“What’d you have for lunch?” He asked.

“I had leftover wingstop, I barely have any food at the house.”

“What’s your order?”

“Eight-piece boneless, classic hot. With fries, ranch, and a huge coke. It was amazing,” You said, practically salivating remembering it. “What about you and Abs?” You asked.

“It was very fancy, I don’t know if you’re prepared to hear me talk about it, you might be jealous,” He said sarcastically. “I made cheese quesadillas.”

You laughed a little too long at that, surprised. He was funny, another check.

You talked on the phone for a while, so long that you were talking about the most boring stuff. Like how Abby was a picky eater, and it annoyed Mike because all he wanted to do was eat a good burger now and again. It was sickly sweet and felt like being a teenager again. Whispering as to not wake your parents up, hoping that they wouldn’t catch you up past your bedtime.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you fell asleep on the phone. Mike was talking about something, maybe about the tv show he had been watching. You’re not exactly positive, but you know that you passed out cold.

Your eyes fluttered open, the phone still pressed up against your cheek, warm from the contact. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your dream in your mind. You had to think hard, as it was delicate. If you let it go, you’d never remember what it was.

It was a good dream, as most of yours tended to be. You didn’t remember a lot, only pieces of it. But you knew Mike was there. You knew that he had led you to your bed, pulling you under the covers with him. You talked, cuddling close to him. God, it had felt so real. You could practically see the lines under his eyes and the pores on his nose. You smiled, but this felt a little creepy at this point. Borderline delusional, your mind added. You barely knew him and you were already dreaming about him.

You grabbed the phone from under your face, groaning as it got unstuck from your skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t dead. You unlocked it, taking the opportunity to look at the texts that you had gotten the night before.

Yesterday, 12:36 pm: hey, this is mike. i’ll need you on the weekends from 8 am-4 pm. and idc that you said not to pay you, i’m building your bed too.

Yesterday, 2:49 pm: you okay?

Yesterday, 5:03 pm: not to be creepy, but i think i’m going to call you. you’re worrying me a little lol

Today, 1:45 am: i think you fell asleep, i’ll talk to you in the morning :)

You smiled, making a contact for him. “mike <3” was now typing. Three little dots popped up on your screen and you quickly swiped out in nervousness. You opened it again when you got a notification.

Today, 10:23 am: i dropped abby off for school and slept in a little, is it okay if i come over to build that bed frame for you?

You smiled again, quickly replying to make up for last night.

Today, 10:24 am: yeah, ofc. give me a few minutes to wake up lol, i need to brush my teeth and clean up for a second.

He replied immediately.

Today, 10:24 am: lmk when you’re ready

You willed yourself to stop smiling, god it had been too long. You hardly knew how to act with a potential date.

“Oh, god.” You muttered to yourself, realizing you had to talk to him. Why did you have to talk to a man to get a boyfriend? Why couldn’t it just happen telepathically?

You sighed, rolling off the couch. You plugged your phone back into the charger, making your way to the bathroom. You completed your morning routine and ran to your bedroom to pick something out to wear for the day. You decided to go for casual, grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. Didn’t want to seem too desperate. You pulled your socks up your feet, laughing at yourself.

You grabbed a quick breakfast from your kitchen, consisting of leftover cookies and a slice of cold pizza. You tried your best to tidy your place up, moving boxes to the corner of the living room. Running down the hallway to your bedroom with your boxed bed frame in hand, you placed it on the floor, taking the other boxes and moving them to the hallway. You scrubbed your toilet and sink, turning on the air fresheners you had placed around the house.

You washed your hands, drying them before returning to the living room. You texted Mike, letting him know that you were ready. He liked the text message, and in less than two minutes he was knocking on your door.

You eyed the door at the noise. Jesus, he was not playing around. You took another deep breath, opening the door to see him standing there with a small smile. He went for casual too, you noted. He wore a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. He held a bag, which you assumed was full of tools.

You smiled at him as a greeting and opened the door wider to allow him to walk into your house.

“Hey.” He said as you walked past you.

“Hi, thanks for coming so quickly.” You responded. “You didn’t have to, the payment feels premature.” You joked, shutting the front door. He looked a you for a second while taking his shoes off at the entryway.

“Shut up, you can’t sleep on the couch for a week”

“I totally can.” You bite back.

“You won’t, where’s your bedroom?” He finished, looking at you again.

You were shocked into silence, feeling your cheeks warm up. The comment made your head spin. Fuck, could he tell that you liked that?

You said nothing, ignoring his little smirk as you walked him to your bedroom. He followed behind you, dropping the bag on the floor with a small thump.

“Do you need any help or something?” You asked finally, breaking the tense silence.

“No, I’m good. I’ve done a lot of stuff like this,” He answered, shrugging. “You could put on some background music?” He suggested.

“That, I can do.”

You nodded, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You hesitated, before choosing a slower playlist of yours. Something calm, that you didn’t have to focus on. He nodded in enjoyment, then began to open the box that held your bed frame. He spilled the contents onto the floor, then kneeled on the ground. He started pulling stuff out of his bag. You guessed correctly, it was full of tools.

You just watched, sitting down against the wall of your room. It was attractive, him expertly putting your bed frame together. He was good with his hands, you wondered what else he was good at. He looked at you after a moment.

“You just gonna watch?”

“If that’s okay.” You shrugged, he nodded at your sort of question. He tried to hide his smile.

He was going to town, drilling, piecing parts together, all while completely ignoring the instructions. He didn’t need them.

After a while, you could tell he was getting hot. His black shirt was sticking to his skin. You hated to admit that it did something to you. You felt a warmth settle in your stomach and tried your best to will it away. Your eyes settled on his back, looking up to his neck when he turned towards you.

“Why’re looking at me like that?” He asked, eyes narrowed out of curiosity.

You made eye contact with him like a deer in headlights. Smiling at you, he laughed a little. Your words were stuck in your throat, embarrassed about being caught.

“Um, do you want some water?” You settled on.

“Sure.” He answered, chuckling at your suddenly shy demeanor.

You stood up off the floor and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. What the fuck was that? You scolded yourself, internally. Now he was going to think that you were a horny weirdo. I mean, you were, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

You shook your head at yourself as you poured him a glass. This was ridiculous, you needed to chill out.

You came back into the bedroom and handed him the glass. He took it from you gratefully, fingers brushing over yours as he grabbed it. Telling you a small “thank you,” he brought the glass to his lips and began to drink greedily. You watched him as he downed the glass, some dripping down his chin.

When he was finished, he wiped a hand over his stubble. He looked over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He held the glass out to you and you took it, quickly walking out of the room.

You placed the glass in the sink, blinking to try and bring yourself back to life. How did someone make drinking water look so good? How was that even possible? And god, the look he gave you.

You needed to get it together before you blew it. Talk to him, say something, anything other than just fucking staring at him.

You walked back into the room with a mission, you were going to talk to him. Taking your spot on the floor, you cleared your throat.

“So, what’s your favorite food?” You decided on.

He barely paused before answering, “Definitely pasta, like a good chicken alfredo.”

“Shit, that’s a good answer. I’m really into sushi right now. Can’t afford it, but into it.” You said, smiling at his willingness to answer.

The stupid questions continued for a few minutes. The two of you got to know the smallest details of your likes and dislikes. Turns out, Mike can’t stand the color yellow but loves orange. He’s not much of a drinker, mainly because he can’t afford it, but he does occasionally smoke weed. He’s a cat person but would get a dog if Abby asked for one. It killed you when he talked about his sister because it was so obvious how much he loved her.

Eventually, he finished your bed frame. The gentleman that he is forced him to carry your mattress in from the laundry room, helping you set that up too. Mike may have been on the shorter side, but he was strong as hell. The two of you put on your sheets, blankets, pillows, and finally your comforter. It was almost too domestic, too real.

When you were finished, you didn’t want him to leave. You think he felt the same. This was confirmed when he saw the tv sitting in your closet.

“Do you want me to mount that for you?” He asked.

I want you to mount me, you fought against saying.

“That would be great.” You agreed.

Mike probably spent three hours helping you put your bedroom together, setting up shelves, arranging your cabinets, and helping you put your pictures and posters up while you talked his ear off.

Even though you told him a million times that he didn’t need to, he hung your clothes up in your closet while you folded the rest to go in your new dresser. Finally, your room was fully decorated and unpacked.

He rubbed his hands together, settling on the end of your bed. You sat next to him.

“Thank you, seriously. I was dreading doing all of that by myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

You both looked at each other for a second too long, the tension between the two of you becoming thick. You took breaks from looking at his eyes by moving down to his lips. You took a deep breath, noticing him moving closer to you.

He hesitated, pushing a stray hair behind your ear instead. His hand lingered on your face, eventually moving down your arm to put your hand in his. He interlocked your fingers together, pulling it close to him and pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. He held you there, hand resting on his chin. This was almost more intimate than a kiss, you thought.

“Do you not-” You started, getting interrupted.

“I want to, believe me.”

You looked at him, willing him to continue.

“I don’t want you to think that’s all this is.” He explained, you nodded. You know that this was him being respectful, but it made you want to tear his clothes off even more. Forbidden fruit, if you will.

“Let me take you on a date, tomorrow on my lunch break. I know a place you’d like.” He continued.

“Okay.” You said, smiling.

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**i do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own, respectfully

The two entered to join Toy Bonnie, finding the bright blue bunny worked on carefully bandaging one of Chica's hands. The Marionette's dark eyes widened as he got a good look over everyone.

Bonnie was sitting against the far wall, cradling one arm to his chest while he trembled where he sat. The fur around his eyes looked like someone had taken scissors to it, several cuts—maybe even a nasty slash, it was hard to tell in the room's light—were visible dangerously close to the bunny's squint-shut-eyes.

Chica was sitting against the far wall, still looking dazed while Toy Bonnie wrapped her hand up in a bandage. Her other hand looked to be in a painful state, her wrist looking swollen. She had gotten a similar treatment as Bonnie, not quite as severe, nor around her eyes. Instead, along her cheeks and around her beak. She was in a dazed state, paying the unfamiliar bunny helping her no mind. Carl, looking unharmed, was keeping himself huddled in her lap for now.

Freddy was still unconscious, laying on the floor not far from their feet. The Marionette couldn't see much by way of physical injuries, though at this hour of the night, and with the way his friends looked so far, seeing the bear laying there unresponsive brought him no measure of relief.

Foxy was the only other one in the room, curled up in a darker corner of the room. He had one leg stretched out, as though keeping it from touching anything more than the floor beneath him. More cuts and slashes covered his leg, and thanks to the fox's pelt and the dim light he hid within, the Marionette couldn't be sure if there wasn't dried blood from his wounds.

"... As I said," Toy Freddy quietly spoke up. "A... miserable state..." The Marionette shook his head. "Right... eh," he looked towards Toy Bonnie. "Bonbell, was it?" The bunny looked over his shoulder towards the two. He nodded. The Marionette approached him—mindful of where he stepped—and knelt down beside Toy Bonnie. "Where's that first aid kit?"

'Think it's got enough bandages in it?'

'If it doesn't, I know where they store more of them.'

'That's a good thing.'

The old memory was replaying in his mind's eye as he walked. He hadn't thought about that moment in a long time, opting instead to recall the second, 'more proper' introduction Fredrick had given him after the fact. That way, he was able to appreciate the memory of first meeting the 'Toys' without cringing at the harm done by those unchecked technicians.

While the memory hadn't exactly popped up in nightmare the night before, an element of the dreamscape's scenario reminded him of that moment. (keep reading)

-> book cover created by me! -> dividers by @cafekitsune & @diviniyae

For a moment, Fred paused to think. He looked up at his brother, giving him a pointed look. "I'll tell you part of what it is, though you need to promise you won't share this with anyone." Bon nodded, saying, "I promise." Fred hummed.

"I'm helping a couple of the children in town, who came to me on their own asking for guidance on something in particular." Bon blinked. "Oh, wow..." The bunny paused. "Are the kids okay, or like...?" Fred nodded. "They are perfectly fine at home, I can assure you that. I know their parents." Bon chuckled a little awkwardly. "That's good, then. And how's it going, working with them?"

"I'd say rather well, as of now." Fred answered. "There's still things we need to work on, but it's off to a good start." Bon smiled. "That's sweet. Guess I'll wish you luck with them," Fred returned the smile. "And I'll leave you to your extra studying." Bon said to him. "Thank you." His brother replied. Bon nodded, leaving Fred be to his study session.

His gaze was fixated on a spot in the shadows around him. Right as he'd stood up from setting down two more hand drawn cards on the tray of food, he'd seen the movement in the shadows again. It didn't take him long to spot them. The white stripes on the tentacles made them just visible enough in the dark.

Trying to spot his brother, Puppet's gaze followed the tentacle along. They were extended too far throughout the room—all around him—which stopped him from figuring out where his brother was hidden in the basement. Puppet frowned subtly in disappointment.

He took a broader glance around instead, though still didn't spot his brother. Puppet stopped to think for a moment, recalling an idea he'd had on his way here. A hand subconsciously rubbed at his wrist while he considered it.

Puppet looked down at the floor around him. He spotted a well taped box. Pulling it closer to the box with the tray, Puppet crouched down to sit on the second box. He let his forearms rest on his lap, his hands loosely hanging between his knees. "Hey, Nat," he began, still looking about as he then said, "I've got a few minutes to kill, here. I'll... stay here if you feel like talking about anything."

What was he doing? Nearly deadpanning, he watched his brother sitting on the box beside the tray of food. Looking not at all in a hurry to leave, now. (keep reading)