NickTrap Yuri One-shots
Cat-fight Turned Confessional (1/2)
Heavy footsteps creaked across the hardwood floor. The house was unusually quiet for this time of day. Springbonnie half expected to see Delaine running around, shouting at one of his noisy computer games in the living room—but the boy was nowhere to be found. Her servos clicked in irritation. She hated the quiet. Hated that he wasn’t here.
Probably out somewhere with that Harley girl again.
The bunny animatronic gnawed on the tip of her fingers, metal scraping faintly. She didn’t trust that girl. Too observant. Too clever. And don't even get her started on that unkempt mane she dared call hair! Why did she have to be here all the time? Every visit, Harley would look at her with those knowing eyes, like she could see right through her casing—see everything. And maybe she could. After all, she did know. But that didn’t mean she had to dangle it over her like a threat.
Little brat.
Springbonnie’s ears twitched at a soft creak somewhere deeper in the house. Her gaze snapped toward the hallway, sensors humming as they adjusted to the dim light. Nothing. Just the faint sway of a curtain near the end of the corridor, stirred by a draft that shouldn’t exist. The windows had been locked since last night. Her fingers, still faintly trembling from irritation, lowered from her mouth. “Delaine?” she called, her voice filtered through a layer of static. It came out softer than intended, carrying an edge that even she couldn’t place—concern, perhaps, or something closer to fear.
No answer.
The bunny took a cautious step forward. Each motion came with the telltale sound of machinery beneath her casing—a low, rhythmic whir, the faint hiss of hydraulics. The silence pressed tighter around her with every creak of the floorboards. Damn it, where was everyone? She couldn't find had or tail of any living soul here. This silence was suffocating, bringing back horrible memories of her imprisonment in Freddy's; there had been nothing to keep her from spiraling, just cold walls and zero stimuli. Well, there was one form of company; however, the souls of the Children aren't exactly fun. Not with how much they hate her…
Something clattered from the kitchen.
She forced her legs to move, servos whining quietly as she crossed the threshold into the hallway. Her eyes glowed faintly against the dark wood paneling, scanning every corner for motion, heat, anything.
Nothing.
Except—
A flicker. At the edge of her vision, a shadow darted across the far end of the corridor. Small. Quick. Before she could even turn to look, something heavy and hard slammed against the side of her head. A mechanic shriek escaped her voice box before she could stop herself as a bolt of pain shot across her face; amidst her agony, Springbonnie forced an eye open amidst her agony, purple flaring within it with rage.
Nicole crouched low, the bat still lowered in a post-swing position; a look of fear and anger was on her face as she adjusted her grip, getting ready to swing again. Springbonnie touched her face as she turned to Nicole, bewildered by what just happened transpired. "You hit me… You crazy bitch! You! HIT! ME!"
The blonde woman gritted her teeth then swung again. The bunny animatronic leaned back, the wooden bat just missing her by mere millimeters. Springbonnie’s ears flicked back as the bat whistled past her face, the wind of it stirring the fur along her jaw. The rabbit growled then stepped back, trying to keep away from the maddened woman. Nicole narrowed her eyes. "I know what you are! What you did. Stevie told me everything," she hissed.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
The brief yet sharp crackle of static in her voice box gave her away. Springbonnie cursed under her metaphorical breath then dodged another deranged swing. The bat slammed into the kitchen counter beside Springbonnie, splintering tile and showering the floor with dust. The noise echoed down the hall, sharp and hollow. Nicole’s breaths came out ragged, each one laced with rage and panic. “Don’t lie to me!” she shouted, raising the bat again, knuckles white around the handle. “He told me what you did to them—what you did back in 1987!”
Springbonnie’s ears flickered, a faint twitch pulling at her metal jaw. “Stop it! Get back!” she ordered, voice low, almost pleading. “I already told you! I just woke up in this suit one day—
Nicole let out a harsh laugh, more a sob than amusement. “Liar!” she spat. “You think just because you act nice and bat your little lashes, you can pretend you aren't a monster? Absolutely not."
Springbonnie side-walked around the woman, trying to stay away from her reach. Her gears audibly whirred with fear; none of this was supposed to happen! Did Harley rat her out to her father? Or did her father already have his suspicions? Damn it… GOD DAMN IT! WHY? She just wanted to not be alone—
Crack!
The wooden weapon once again cracked against her head. Springbonnie shrieked then lunged at Nicole with surprising ease; the woman tried to run away but the animatronic caught the back of her neck, metal fingers digging into skin. Like she weight nothing, she was thrown over the kitchen counter, her lower half hitting the dining room table and causing it to topple over. Nicole hit the ground hard, the air leaving her lungs in a strangled gasp. The bat rolled out of reach as she clutched her side, coughing through the pain. Shards of shattered plates crunched beneath her as she tried to scramble backward, her hands trembling.
Springbonnie stood over her, hands clenching then unclenching. The glow in her eyes had shifted—no longer just anger, but something deeper, something raw and fractured. Her servos clicked erratically as she stared down at Nicole, trembling. “I told you to stop,” she rasped, her voice layered with distortion. “I didn’t want to hurt you!”
Nicole tried to rise, gripping the edge of a fallen chair for leverage, but her leg buckled beneath her. “You— what were you going to do to Delaine? Were you gonna kill him too?! Is that why you followed him out of the pizzeria, why you just inserted yourself into my home?!" she choked out.
Springbonnie froze, the words hitting something deep within her like a blade. She took a step forward, then another, ears flicking with mechanical twitches. “And what does that make me, Nicole?” she whispered. “Go on. Say it.”
The woman swallowed hard, defiance wavering under the cold fury radiating off the animatronic. “You’re nothing but a cold-blooded killer."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even the distant hum of the building seemed to fade away. A massive wave of panic washed over her; if she could hyperventilate, she would frighteningly be doing so. But all she could do in this cold, metallic form she had possessed was stay still. Springbonnie could snap her neck. Just grab her right here and now. Clean kill, no witnesses. Delaine would eventually understand; it was self-defense after all! Yeah, Mommy had to defend herself because then who was going to take care of him?
Springbonnie’s hands twitched at her sides, the metal claws flexing involuntarily as if her body was acting faster than her mind could stop it. The thought—the instinct—to end the threat screamed through her circuits, primal and violent. One lunge. One twist. Silence.
You haven't changed a bit…
Are you seriously going to do this again?! Leave her alone!
Murderess… Shameless killer…
The Children's voices echoed in her head. Springbonnie whimpered and covered her ears. Her processors spun wildly, static building in her voice box. “I’m not—” she stuttered, shaking her head violently, the sound of grinding servos filling the air. “I’m not like that anymore! I’m not—!”
Nicole flinched as the animatronic slammed a fist against the counter top, cracking the laminate and sending utensils scattering. The crazed rabbit cried out, almost like she was in agony; while she was distracted, Nicole grabbed the bat then crawled underneath the table; some pieces of glass cut into her palms and knees as she moved away, letting the cursed rabbit spiral; she needed to catch her breath.
Springbonnie staggered back from the dining room. She pressed her palms against her head, the metal screeching against her own plating. “Stop it—stop it—stop it!” she hissed through distorted static. Her whole body trembled, movements jerky and uncoordinated as though she were fighting against herself.
Under the table, Nicole bit back a whimper. Blood trickled from a fresh gash on her knee, but she forced herself to stay quiet. Her fingers trembled around the bat, slick with sweat and blood. She could hear the animatronic’s breathing—heavy, unsteady. A sound that shouldn’t exist in something without lungs. But yet further proved the notion she was once living. Her cover was harshly pushed aside; the table clattering with a harsh crash.
The crash made Nicole flinch violently, glass shards digging deeper into her palms as she instinctively tried to scramble back. Springbonnie loomed over her, eyes flickering violently between violet and their standard green. “Don’t—!” Nicole cried, raising the bat in a shaking hand. “Stay back!”
Springbonnie’s head tilted, the servos in her neck whining as her expression twisted from fright into pure, unrestrained distress. "I JUST WANTED A FAMILY!"
Ominous, dark tears spilled from her eyes; glitchy sobs crackled from her voice box. She shakily looked at Nicole, the woman panting in over-exertion and fear. Springbonnie’s whole frame shuddered, joints locking and unlocking in uneven rhythm as she sank to her knees. The sound of her servos whining filled the tense silence, underscored by the faint, broken static that passed for her sobs.
“I just wanted a family,” she repeated, quieter this time, voice trembling like loose wiring. Her metal fingers dug into the floor, scraping deep grooves into the tile as her head bowed low. “Someone to love and care for… And then to do the same, not bothered by what I am.”
Nicole’s grip on the bat faltered. The raw emotion in that distorted voice didn’t sound programmed—it sounded real. Like the cry of something that didn’t understand the pain it caused. Springbonnie raised her head slowly, dark fluid streaking her cheeks like oil tears. “You had him,” she said softly, gaze fixed on Nicole. “You had Delaine. He laughed. He played. He smiled.” Her voice cracked, static warping every word. “I could never have that… And I just wanted to be part of it. To belong somewhere again.”
Nicole didn’t say a word. She could only watch in pure terror as the robotic being rambled on. Her mind was frozen—she barely knew what to think. All she had known before was the horrifying truth: Springbonnie had been the Fazbear Killer. Stevie had overheard an argument between her and Harley, and without hesitation, had shared his chilling discovery with Nicole. Now, with her worst fears confirmed, her priorities crystallized: she needed to keep her son safe. She had already made the grave mistake of letting the animatronic stay, but she would not be swayed or threatened into tolerating it for another day. And she certainly would not let it come anywhere near Delaine again. As a mother, it felt only right that she should be the one to end this nightmare herself.
But before she could act, Springbonnie bolted toward the kitchen then past, sobbing uncontrollably as she fled. Nicole lay there, gasping, her heart pounding. She hadn’t anticipated the sheer toughness of the animatronic’s casing, nor its agility in fighting back. The realization hit her with a cold, terrifying clarity—this was far more dangerous than she had ever imagined. And yet… part of her pitied the soul within the casing. A feeling that filled her with reproach and confusion.
Nicole used the bat to stand up, yelping at the cuts she had suffered; not to mention, she had been thrown like a rag doll across the room. She could have killed her… Easily. And yet, she descended into a panic like a cornered animal. Nicole gripped the bat tighter, knuckles white, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Every instinct screamed at her to flee, yet her feet felt glued to the floor. The sound of Springbonnie’s sobs echoed through the house, a haunting mix of despair and something almost… human.
The blonde woman ran a hand through her short, blonde hair; blue eyes scanned her trashed dining room with bitterness and fright. What does she do right now… Her plan had failed royally, got her ass handed to her, and now she was confused (unless that's a concussion talking). What… What did Springbonnie meant by what she said? And how could someone like her be capable of… grieving.
Nicole’s mind raced, a chaotic tangle of pain, fear, and disbelief. The bat felt heavier in her hands than ever, a weight that matched the dread settling in her chest. Grieving? The word echoed through her skull like a cruel joke. How could something so monstrous—something that had thrown her across a room with ease, something that had killed before—be capable of grief?
Her instincts screamed at her to act, yet a part of her froze, shocked by the sight of her assailant fleeing deeper into the house. Every instinct told her it was dangerous, that she should strike before she had the chance—but another part whispered that this was no ordinary monster. There was something trapped inside the metal casing, something desperately human. She shakily stood to her feet then limped toward the kitchen; Nicole would follow after that cursed rabbit once she cleans herself up.