#dca drabble

[asriel20asi]

Moondrop x Y/N

Drabble below~♡

Procrastinating all night, then looking at the clock reading 6:02 am in big blinking lights, "Whoops, Moon is going to have my head..." shrugging off the concern to grab a bite to eat in the kitchen. Pulls out the green bean casserole, puts some on a plate and mixes salsa verde in and proceeds to eat it cold. Procrastinates more by listening to music on spotify with headphones, listening to a couple of r/aita videos and just lurks around discord and tumblr. "I'm going to hate myself later..." walks back to my room and finds Moon tapping his foot with his arms crossed, a glare that makes one slink into themselves. "Moonie~♡" using the sweetest tone I can muster but a hand enters my view, "Nuh uh..." he stops me before I talk myself out of the situation. Proceeds to lift me as if I weigh nothing into his arms and cradles me close as he marches toward the bed. Climbs into the large nest of pillows, blankets and memory foam comfortably laying down on his back, so I lay atop his warm chest-plate. "Goodnight my Dove~♡"

#moondrop x reader #moondrop x y/n #dca x reader #dca x y/n #dca fandom #dca drabble #dca au #some of the things are what I did tonight and some just in the story for fun~♡ #moon x reader #moon x y/n #moon x self insert #moondrop x self insert #dca x self insert

[justfangirlstuffs]

Imagine DLA reader forcing moon and Monty getting along and the reader just forces monty to give moon flowers thinking it would be sweet while moon and sun is just trying to progress the whole thing

This got away from me a little bit, but it was fun to write.

A side adventure for my Little Assistant fic. Very Monty heavy. Like way more than I was expecting.

Making Amends

You x Monty (bonding)

It was one of those days when Elliot invited you as a tag-a-long for his maintenance duties. Only, this time he seemed to have an ulterior motive. He explained to your mom that he needed to help repair Montgomery Gator's room and that Monty seemed to be more behaved when there were kids around. Your mom was understandably concerned, but you assured her that you met Monty once before and he treated you fine.

“Sun, are you okay if I go help Elliot for a bit?” you asked him.

Sun sighed dramatically, placing a hand on his forehead in a very woe-is-me pose. “I suppose I'll survive. My little assistant abandoning me in my waning hours when I am most bereft and in need.”

“Cool, I knew you'd understand,” you said, giving him the thumbs up and turning to walk away. Sun made a squawk of surprise and you snickered, turning back and giving him a hug around his middle. “I'll spend a little extra time on your post-shift wipe-down to make it up to you. How does that sound?”

He rubbed your head through your uniform cap. “That sounds delightful. Have fun, Starshine.”

You went with Elliot to Rockstar Row, and you noticed immediately that Monty's curtains were drawn. Again. This was a regular occurrence you were noticing. You winced when you heard a large bang coming from inside the room.

Elliot rubbed his neck, sweating pinballs. “If anything happens, get behind me or leave the room as fast as you can, alright?”

“Okay,” you agreed.

Elliot led you to the door of Monty's green room. He knocked, then called out, “Monty, I'm coming in!” and then used his badge to open the door. This wasn't your first visit to Monty's room, nor was it the first time you'd caught Monty in the middle of 'blowing off steam' as he had called it. Even still, seeing a bulky animatronic gator standing in the middle of a scene of destruction was not the most comforting of sights.

As soon as the door opened, Monty's head jerked towards the two of you. “Howdy there, Monty,” Elliot greeted, using a very cordial tone that contradicted his earlier tension.

A low growl rumbled from Monty and though he was wearing shades, you saw his snout twitch lower so that his face was more directed at you peeking out from behind the handyman. “You brought a kid? Autograph sessions are over.”

“They're my friend's kid. They're just here to observe,” Elliot explained, keeping his tone measured.

Monty glared at you, his face leaning in an inch or two before suddenly drawing back. “Wait a second, I remember you.”

“I remember you too,” you answered, daring to step out from behind Elliot's figure. “Thanks again, by the way.”

Monty glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn't do nuthin',” he mumbled.

Elliot breathed out a sigh of utter relief. “Alright, welp, I'm just gonna assess the damages. Don't mind me.”

He began wandering the green room, taking note of what was broken and needed to be replaced. Monty shot him a glare but made to move to stop him. It was clear though that the gator was barely tolerating the man's presence.

You edged up to Monty and he stiffened looking down at you. “You don't like people In your room, do you?”

Monty snorted, a hissing sound strongly reminiscent of the noises you'd hear in his gator golf attraction. “Would you enjoy people just letting themselves into your space uninvited?”

You shook your head, feeling guilty. “Sorry... and sorry again about the time before.”

Monty wordlessly turned and stomped over to the couch which was definitely gonna need replacing. The green upholstery had been shredded and the insides were littered around the place. Even so, Monty sat down on it and looked at you. “Well? Don't just stand there gawkin'. Have a seat.”

“Oh, okay,” you said and shuffled over to the couch, sitting down on one of the cushions that wasn't completely mangled. You noticed Elliot was keeping a close eye on you between his note-taking. “So, bad day?”

“What?” Monty asked, looking at you.

It was hard not to be intimidated by the teeth, but you did your best not to think about how sharp they might be. “Did you have a bad day?” you asked, gesturing to the room. “You obviously were blowing off some steam. You wanna talk about it?”

“No!” Monty barked.

“Okay, sorry,” you mumbled, picking at a wad of couch stuffing that was poking out right beside you.

An awkward silence followed for a few beats, only filled by the shuffling of Elliot's shoes as he tried to navigate through the debris. In that time, Monty's crossed his legs, uncrossed them, and then crossed them again. It was like he couldn't get comfortable. He let out another snorting hiss that made you jump a little.

“I was hosting a birthday party, and I brought out the cake. But then the parents start yelling at me that it was the wrong cake. Like it's my fault. I don't make the cakes I just deliver what's given to me, you know?”

You nodded emphatically, letting him know he had your full attention.

“So, this parent is screaming at me that I ruined the kid's birthday party, and the kid starts crying, and all the other kids start screaming because they want cake. And I'm trying to tell this woman to just let me go get a different cake and then one of the kids throws their soda and gets it all over me. Then in walks Mister Congeniality himself...”

“I'm sorry, who?” you asked.

“Who else? Freddy Fazbear.” His hands curled into fists as he says the name. “He just walks up to the parents and apologizes for the inconvenience and basically hijacks the entire party and tells me to leave so I can go clean up and relax. Can you believe that?”

“I mean, yeah, people totally suck sometimes,” you murmured. “Oh, sorry. I'm not supposed to use that word, right?”

Monty snorted. “I don't care. Do you know how many curses I hear in a single day?”

Okay, so he didn't have an anti-swear protocol like Sun and Moon. Neat. “But it sounds like Freddy was just trying to be helpful?”

“I never asked for his help. Him coming in there and taking over, it's like he thinks I can't handle a simple birthday party.”

“Do you like handling birthday parties?”

“What does THAT matter?” Monty asked you. “It don't matter if I like 'em or not, it's part of my job.” He rubbed at his shoulder. “'Sides... I don't mind entertaining kids. Kids are fine, and birthdays are important to 'em. It wasn't even my fault the party was ruined and I wasn't even given a chance to fix it.” Monty hunched forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Now that he was finished venting, he just seemed tired.

You waited for a few beats before asking, “You need a hug?”

Monty's head jerked to look at you. “What?”

“Sunny always gives me hugs when I'm feeling down. He says hugs are magical and make people feel better and that everyone needs a hug once in a while.”

“That sounds like something he would say.” Based on Monty's tone, he was not saying it as a compliment.

Immediately feeling defensive on Sun's behalf, you puffed yourself up. “Sunny is my best friend and I will fight you.”

Monty stared down at you for a beat and snorted, his hand patting your head, surprisingly gentle for his bulk. “You're alright, kid.” He at his shoulder again, glancing away. “I don't need a hug... but if you were wanting one, then... I guess I could humor you.”

You grinned and took him up on the offer, leaning over and hugging him around the torso. Unlike Sun and Moon, you could not get your hands full around him for how bulky he was. However, one of his hands patted your back and you swore you felt his body relax under your touch. You could faintly hear the hum of his inner workings, though it sounded different from the noises you were used to hearing from Sun and Moon.

“Hey, kiddo. Come along, I gotta go grab some equipment to start cleaning up this mess,” Elliot called out.

“I wanna stay with Monty,” you said, before glancing up at the gator. “Er, if that's okay with you?”

You couldn't fully tell, but you thought he looked a little surprised behind his shades. “Yeah, fine by me.”

“Okay.” Elliot looked a little apprehensive, however, glancing between the pair of you, he relented. “I'll be back in a jiffy.” Then he exited the room.

Once he was gone, Monty made a grumbling noise, like clearing his throat. “So, uh, kid... since I did you a favor, think you could do me one?”

You looked up at him. “I thought you said, and I quote 'I didn't do nuthin'.” You only waited for a beat to let that joke hang before saying, “I'm kidding. What do you need?”

“I feel like after what happened, Moon's been avoiding me. I think he's mad about... you know, and since you're so chummy with them, thought maybe you could put in a good word?”

“Why not give him a gift to show your sorry,” you suggested. “Like flowers. Used to, whenever my mom was upset, my dad would bring her flowers or something and they usually made up.”

“Where am I supposed to get flowers?” he asked you pointedly.

“Hmm, okay. Well, why not draw them? Sun and Moon love getting art.”

Monty scratched at his hair. “I... don't really know what flowers look like. Haven't really seen many of 'em around here.”

“I can help with that!” you answered brightly, now fully on board with helping Monty make a gift for Moon.

From your Bonnie backpack -which you took almost everywhere with you- you pulled out some paper and markers. You saw Monty eyeing your backpack and wondered if that was still a sore subject for him.

“Life with the band treating you okay?” you asked tentatively.

“Fine,” he muttered, but you sensed it was not 'fine'.

“I can't say I know what you're going through, but I know what it's like to be the new kid, and I know what it's like to be put somewhere you don't wanna be. It really sucks, and you hate it cuz like, you didn't choose this so why are you getting punished for it? But... sometimes... things end up working out, and then it's not so bad.” You noticed he was staring at you and you flushed, quickly shaking your head. “Sorry, I know I talk too much sometimes.”

“S'fine,” Monty murmured. He awkwardly picked up one of your markers between his claws. “So... um... what flowers should I draw?”

You spent the next hour helping Monty draw a variety of flowers, along with a short apology note. Elliot was in and out with another staff member, doing cleaning while you worked. At one point, when it was just you and Monty, you heard Sun's voice coming from your watch.

“Starshine, are you almost done?”

“Yeah, I'll be back soon,” you answered. Looking up at Monty, you said, “I can take this to Moon if you want.”

“I'll come with you,” Monty said, getting up from the couch. “I'd rather it be in person from me, ya know?”

“I get that.” You shoved your stuff back into your bag and shouldered it. “Are you allowed to leave Rockstar row?'

“Under certain conditions, like escorting a kid back to their parent.”

So, when Elliot came back, you let him know Monty would be taking you back to the daycare. He seemed rather enthused about this, maybe because it meant he and the other staff member could clean without worrying about getting in Monty's way. On the way, you made small talk, asking Monty about things he enjoyed doing in his free time. You learned he actually did enjoy mini golf and asked you if you've ever played at his golf course. You admitted you tried a couple times, but the sound effects were so scary and jarring that you had a hard time focusing on golfing, but the overall design was really neat. Monty then offered you should come golfing when he was hosting and he'd make it not so scary. It was a nice gesture, you felt.

When you arrived back at the daycare, Sun was there to welcome you with open arms. “Oh, I missed you,” he cooed, snuggling you in his arms.

You giggled. “I wasn't gone for that long.”

“It felt like an eternity,” he bemoaned. Shifting you to one arm, he raised the other in a friendly wave. “Hey there, Montgomery! Thank you for bringing our Starshine back to us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Monty grumbled, clutching the handmade card in his hand. “I got something for ya to give to Moon.”

“Wait, you gotta read it,” you told him.

“Now?” Monty demanded.

“Yes! Moon will hear it, right?” you asked Sun.

“He sure will.”

Monty grumbled but opened the card carefully so as not to tear it. “To Moon, sorry 'bout what happened. Please take these flowers, and this joke: What do you...” He paused, groaning.

“Come on,” you urged gently.

He let out a low, hissing sigh, but he continued. “What do you call an alligator with a compass?”

“I don't know, Monty,” Moon said from your watch. “What?”

“A... navi-gator.”

Sun made a few snorting giggles before breaking down into full-on hysterics, clutching you tightly so that he didn't accidentally drop you. Monty, for his part, looked so thoroughly not amused. “What a delightful joke!” Sun walked over, plucking the card from Monty's hands. “This is definitely going up on the wall.”

“That ain't necessary,” Monty said gruffly.

“Oh, I insist!” Sun said cheerfully. “Consider all forgiven, Monty.”

“Agreed,” Moon said from the watch. “I'll swing by your room later tonight.”

Monty seemed a little relieved to hear this. “Great. I mean, fine. If you want. I don't care.” There was an awkward pause before he said, “I gotta go.” Then he turned and exited the daycare.

“He's such a nice fellow,” Sun commented.

“He is,” you agreed.

Your mom, who had been relaxing at her desk watching the whole thing, sighed. “I love working here.”

#saranootnoot #tdala #the daycare attendant's little assistant #sun and moon #fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #montgomery gator #dca drabble #tdala snippet #justfangirlwritings #sun x y/n #sun x reader #moon x reader #moon x y/n #monty x y/n #monty x reader #fnaf security breach #the daycare attendant

[crabsnpersimmons]

thanks for the positive response to himbo Moon! he also wanted to say thanks:

some extras under the cut!

Edit: Image descriptions added!

no text version:

oh and in case you're curious about what his new body looks like, i managed to remember to take a picture of the sketch before inking! he basically has glamrock freddy's model design, except his legs and feet are more slender so he can be more light on his feet:

also... i did the math (meaning, i eyeballed a height chart with freddy's model and put the numbers in an ellipse calculator i found online)—freddy, and therefore moon here, has a bust size of 179.74 cm or 70.76 inches (almost 5'11" circumference).

writing muse: not thicc enough. the world record for the largest muscular chest is 74 inches!

...do with that information what you will

this is what i did with that information (with a cameo of @vacantfields's android moon! they've got a bit of rivalry/affair/kismesis between each other ♠️)

poor hairdresser himbo moon isn't as flexible as he used to be :')

#fnaf moon #fnaf dca #dca fandom #New Do Same You AU #Moon New Do Same You AU #Things Are Better AU #i #i am sorry for this /jk #but that 5'11" circumference my GOSH #i can't even wrap my arms around him! #but he'd probably prefer that #he prefers hugs with arms around his waist or his shoulders (if you can reach or if he lifts you up) #he doesn't like being touched on his back #there's a... sad backstory reason for that #speaking of sad! #i'll be sharing my first drabble soon! #be prepared #and #maybe check back and zoom in on this picture later for the foreshadowing i've planted #again #i am sorry #for the psychological damage i'm about to inflict on you #crab art #traditional art #digital art #traditionally inked digitally coloured

[lunarmoves]

connected to this drabble!

"that's not sanitary, you know."

you paused, about to take a drink out of your cup of pink lemonade, and glanced up at sun. he watched you from the other side of the security desk, his arms bracing against its lip.

"what is?" you asked in confusion. you looked down at yourself, wondering if there was a stain or something on your uniform, but you were clean.

sun pointed to the cup in your hand, its straw sticking flimsily out of the top cover. "sharing drinks." there was a terseness to his smile despite it being stretched wide across his face in a vain attempt at casualness.

you only shrugged. he'd probably caught you letting the (relatively) new daycare security guard steal a few sips out of your drink before he clocked out for the night. "humans do it all the time, depending. besides, vincent's a friend. i didn't mind sharing with him. he was thirsty."

"that's not the point, friend!" sun exclaimed with a sudden loudness that had you jumping slightly. his pale, white eyes squinted slightly, but not in amusement. "exchanging saliva via straws or other utensils can lead to the transmission of germs and certain dise—"

"whoa, chill, dude! it's not that serious!" you cut off his rant abruptly, waving your free hand in the air. you made a motion to take the straw up in your mouth so you could prove your point, but before you could, sun snatched the cup right out of your hand. you let out an indignant hey! and tried to grab it back from him, but he leaned out of your reach.

"yes it is!" he said stubbornly, his fingers gripping onto the plastic of the cup. his head twitched slightly to the left, rays shifting minutely. "you could get sick! or worse!"

you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. drama queen. you already knew you weren't getting that drink back. "it was only a few sips, man. besides, vincent doesn't have any diseases."

sun's gaze narrowed, his smile thinning. there was an edge to his words you didn't quite like. "you don't know that."

okay, well, he was right, but you weren't going to admit that. you swapped drinks with friends all the time, it was just something natural at that point in your relationship with them. "i don't know why you're getting so worked up over this," you told him irritably. "i'm sure you've seen kids eat each others' foods and drink each others' drinks all the time."

"that's different!" sun replied in a peevish manner.

you gave him a look that indicated you didn't quite believe him. "how is it different?"

at that, he seemed to pause and flounder for words. his arms moved about in the air in a manner that borderlined erratic. "it's— they're not—"

"i'm starting to think this is less about me and more about vincent," you said flatly as you raised an eyebrow at him.

sun recoiled, rays shrinking down slightly before he forced them back out to their normal size. "don't be silly!" he rushed out. "this isn't about—"

"then what is it about, hm?" you asked as gently as you could, which, in retrospect, wasn't all that. it was getting late and you didn't expect to have to deal with this tonight. "you know, i don't think you like vincent all too—"

"i said this isn't about him!" a burst of pink exploded out from sun's grasp, causing a waterfall to splash down on the desk and floor. you jumped at the abruptness of it, your eyes latching onto the tight grip sun had on your drink. his fingers had punctured holes in it, crushing the plastic until it was jagged and flat.

you stared at it for one moment, two moments, then snapped your gaze up to sun's face plate. he was staring directly at you, white pupils tiny and constricted in grey optics. his smile was wide and strained, his fingers twitching minutely at his side.

you swallowed heavily, and in a small, small voice, you said "...sun?"

the word seemed to breathe life back into him. he blinked and darted his gaze down to his hand. "oh!" he jumped slightly and loosened his grip just a tad. "silly me! sometimes i don't realize my own strength!" his body restarted that idle swaying motion it always seemed to have, and you distantly wondered when he had stopped it. "you stay right there friend! i'll get this all cleaned up in a jiffy!"

and then he skittered away, leaving you to stare blankly down at the waterlogged remains of your ruined drink.

#well well well looks like SOMEONE'S jealous he cant engage in human acts that hint at deeper relationships... #dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #sun x reader #fnaf sun x reader #dca x y/n #dca x you #dca x self insert #fnaf dca x reader #sundrop x reader #sundrop x you #sundrop x y/n #dca fanfic #sun x you #sun x self insert #sun x y/n #fnaf sun x y/n #vincent WILL show up in other drabbles btw. got some stuff planned with him hehehe #yes he is a play on vincent purple guy back from 2015 #shay scribbles daydreams

[notdysfunk]

"It's a bit cheeky, isn't it?" You chanced, those pinkishly red eyes casting a glow that danced on your cheeks. He only hummed curiously.

"Dancing here... under the blue moon's light... With you, Moon." You spoke quieter as the sentence dragged on, whispering meekly as Moon chuckled.

The wind picked up rustling the leaves and grass around you, swinging the flashlight hanging from your arm. Moon's hat jingled gently, the bells on his shoes following suit with each slow, steady step.

This was far too peaceful to complain.

#dys drabble #y/n tag #moondrop x reader #moon x reader #moondrop x y/n #moon x y/n #moondrop #fnaf moon #moondropfnaf #daycare attendant #moonfnaf #fnafmoon #dca x reader #sundrop #sundropfnaf #fnaf sun #sunfnaf #blue moon

[vacantfields]

Ever since you had caught one of Moon's shows at the plex, you had playfully teased him by singing one of his songs but in an off-key manner to annoy him.

The two of you were doing a late-night security round together; he was strolling next to you in his usual jester outfit, all while you were singing your heart out and dancing around him, keeping the flashlight steady so you didn't blind the tall android.

Moon had a soft grin on his lips and hummed out in his usual raspy tone. "Having fun, Star?" he asked as you stopped spinning around yourself for a moment, smiling brightly up at him. You had to really crane your neck back to look at him as he was 8'5", and you barely reached his ribs.

"Well, yeah!" you responded. "I never knew about the night shows, Moonie! I didn't know you could sing like that!" you giggled.

Moon kept his grin soft as he let out a breathy chuckle. "I have always been able to sing Starlight. They just made sure my voice box could handle it more." You scoffed at that.

"Moon. You sang lullabies before. This is different! You were wearing different clothes, and you just looked different!" you said with a flail of your hand in your rambling that Moon gently caught in his big hand, and then he didn't let it go as you two continued to walk.

"I'm glad you enjoyed my performance Starlight. Maybe next time you could let me know you will be there so I can sing to you directly." His grin bordered on a playful smirk as he watched the profile of your face heat up, covering your cheeks in a soft red blush. "Right." You whispered.

Moon looked amused as you two continued your walk down the long walkways of the pizzaplex. He squeezed your soft and small hand gently in his.

He adored you. He adored your warmth. He thought about confessing his love for you there, but he needs to talk with Sun first, so it will have to wait.

You had begun to hum one of his songs again, and he joined in, which made you smile brightly, and the softest giggle escaped your lips.

Moon can't wait for when he can finally call you his.

#Things Are Better AU #dca fandom #Drabble #Moon x reader #Moon x yn #Fnaf moon #Writing #Fluff #Soft #Cute #Just wanted to write something FJSJGJ

[missterious-figure]

Had a thought that's been floating around my head for the past few days. What if Wine and Feathers Y/N was a female harpy at the casino. The fucking competition between Sun, Moon and Eclipse would be hella aggressive

You had been trying to keep hidden from them all day. Staying in the foliage near the trail as much as possible. Who exactly were you hiding from? The three peacock harpies Sun, Moon and Eclipse, of course.

You were a newly imported peahen performer and you hadn't expected to get much attention from harpies and guests alike. You had thought no one would care about your arrival. You were so wrong. The three most prized peacock harpies took a liking to you very fast. They teased and flirted as much as they could with you. You also noticed how competitive they were, all vying to be the single focus of your attention. They don't straight out attack each other, but you wouldn't be surprised if that didn't last long.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard boots clopping down the red tiled path. You were cowering inside a rather large bush, quietly peeking from between the leaves. You couldn't see who it was yet, but you knew those boots belonged to one of the three celestial peacock brothers. Holding your breath, you listened. Please walk past. Please.

"Sweetheart? Please, come out!"

Crap. It was Sun. He was looking for you. He walked right next to your bush and paused to look around. You could now see his silver boots from under leaves of the bush. Your nerves were getting the best of you and you tried to back away farther into the foliage. Bad move. A twig crunched beneath your feet. Sun's gaze snapped to the plant you were hidden under. He lowered himself on to his knees and smiled when his eyes met yours.

"Darling! There you are! I was so worried!"

Before you could react, he pushed his way awkwardly into your hiding spot. Sun had to lay on his belly to get in. His tail was trailing out of the bush and he barely fit. You were surprised he wasn't whining about getting dirty. He looked so silly, but you weren't focused on that. You were now face to face with the golden harpy. Sun gently grabbed your arm and dragged you closer. He rotated you so your body was in the same direction as his. He tucked you under his arm and bonked his head on yours.

Without saying anything, he began to rub his cheek all over your face. He gave you a few kisses every now and again, mostly on your forehead, cheek, shoulder, and neck. Meanwhile, you were burning up so bad. Your feathers were all ruffled in a distinctly flustered way. After a lot of silent cuddling Sun finally whispered,

"Sweety, you look like a mess, with all your feathers so puffy. Let me help you preen."

You were about to protest, but Sun was already tenderly nibbling through your neck feathers. The more he groomed you, the more your feathers bristled. You knew he knew what he was doing, making you so embarrassed.

"My my, I may need to try a different approach!"

You didn't like the sound of that. Sun parted his mouth to slide his tongue out. He could see how visibly shocked you looked and chuckled to himself. He softly lapped at your feathers, slicking them down with a little bit of saliva. He was focusing deeply on each of your beautiful feathers, making sure not to miss even one. He was humming a little song in between each lick. The song was relaxing. You began to nod off. Maybe it was the rhythmic preening, the warmth the afternoon, or the humming, but eventually, you were lulled to sleep.

Once Sun was satisfied and sure you were asleep, he rested his head on your shoulder. He sighed contently and drifted of to sleep, too. Before he did, he gazed at your cute little face one more time. He was glad to have this moment with you. He knew it wouldn't be long before his brothers came to interrupt it. Oh, well. He smirked at imaging the faces of his brothers after he would tell them that he had groomed you. They'd be so FUCKING jealous. Sun finally fell asleep, cuddling you in his arms, under a bush near the path.

#dca au #wine and feathers au #answered #missterious drabble

[muzzlemouths]

For prompt

“Whatever this is - it’s over”

Sun & Moon centered / 7,686 Words

You’ve been fired.

There’s no Ifs, Ands, or Buts about it, if your (former) boss’ tone is anything to go by. You got the phone call bright and early a number of days ago, only an hour before you were scheduled to go in, yet you were still expected to continue on with your shift as usual. This was just a personal heads-up; a courtesy, they said. You’ll finish out the week before they kick you to the curb for real.

You don’t tell anyone. Not on the first day, or the second, or any time soon. There are forty-eight hours remaining when you decide it may be best to keep your mouth shut all together. Would it be easier, that way? Would it hurt any less?

It’s hard to imagine your coworkers don’t suspect something. You’ve been suspiciously dispirited these last few days, jumping between pretending not to care, and outright hysteria when you believe yourself to be alone. You’ve been careful. Whatever emotion has spilled from your voice is only a drop in a turbulent ocean, its waves threatening to crash and pull and swallow you whole. You lack the energy to keep your head above water, and have just about stopped swimming all together. The thought of letting yourself drown is easier. It chips away at the guilt.

They don’t intend to let you lose the fight that easily.

“Is everything okay?” Sun asks fifteen minutes into your shift, a rearranging of the same question he’s asked every day for three days. You struggle to keep yourself from snapping at him.

“Everything’s fine,” is what you answer him with instead, “just like I told you yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.” The blanket in your hands is folded with the ferocity of a cat wrangling prey, as though the very fibers wage a war against you. Evidently, everything is not fine. “Will you please just drop it?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly raises himself from a slouch to avoid crowding you further, hands flying up in defense, “it’s just…you’ve been so quiet this week, sunshine, and you know how I worry–”

“Well don’t,” you snap – thinking better of it the moment you catch his flinch from the corner of your eye. Your hands slow against the fabric, then stop all together. You deflate with an exhausted sigh and do your best to regain some composure. “I’m just tired, Sun, that’s all,” you try to face him with a smile, “I didn’t mean to snap, I’m sorry,” it doesn’t reach your eyes, “can we just forget about it?”

He straightens further, stiffening in the joints (he gets the picture loud and clear), his hands wringing in circles, already. “Of course, star, all forgiven!” You don’t miss the choice of nickname. Moon will doubtlessly bring it upon himself to ask you the same damn question before the end of your shift if he’s already invading this conversation. “Forget about what?” Sun continues with a wink, “I can’t even remember what we were talking about!”

His effort softens your shoulders. You know he can’t help but worry, it’s in his nature, but it will only make these last two days all the more difficult. “Thanks, Sun. I promise to try and be a little less grumpy.” You produce a smile with genuine effort this time, and he appears to reciprocate by unwinding the joints that had been coiled tight.

“Any time, sunshine. Now then,” he gestures awkwardly toward the heap of blanket, “would you like some help with that? It appears to have gotten away from you. Nasty beasts, these things are. Always causing trouble!”

The fleeting relief of humor helps the waves recede, bit by bit. You let laughter wash over you instead of grief for as long as it’ll last and do your best to ignore the way an ocean of dread still laps at your ankles.

-

As expected, Moon is hot on your tail before you’re so much as halfway to the locker room when the lights go out. There’s ten minutes left to your shift and, if you’re lucky, you can spend them gathering your things and avoid him entirely. Unfortunately, your luck this week has apparently run dry.

“Leaving so soon?” He asks from the rafters, “What has you in such a hurry?”

If it wasn’t a hurry, it’d be a lingering. An insistence to stay for as long as your timecard would allow, regardless of task, dragging your feet like a child that wanted to stick around and play for only a few minutes longer. You’d look desperate – suspicious, if nothing else – and you couldn’t lead him on to what was happening.

“Got places to be, things to do,” you lie in perfect sing-song harmony, “I’ll be back tomorrow.” It’s one of the last days you can tell him so. “Don’t you have patrols to be doing?”

Your locker slams shut. Moon is behind it, his nails still dug into the cheap metal. He watches you like a shark circling its next meal. “Done for now,” he tells you. “Follow. I want to show you something.”

Do you really have a choice in the matter?

Moon leads you down a familiar path. Past the Daycare, into the theater, through the blue door. You know the route to their bedroom by the back of your hand. “Is this important?” You try not to sound impatient, but the longer you’re here, the harder it will be for you to leave. Moon doesn’t reply.

He holds the door open and ushers you inside with an expectant glare. Your hesitance to enter has his eyes narrowing further. If you didn’t know any better you would think he was angry with you, but you can’t think of what you might have done to piss him off this time.

You walk into the room if only through sheer force of will, each step a fight in and of itself, waged against the bile in your throat and the weight that’s made knots of your stomach. Just five minutes. If you can last that long, you’ll have a reasonable excuse to leave without him thinking any worse of you.

Moon continues to the wall and carefully frees a paper from its tape, pausing to stare at it between his hands if only for a moment before returning to your side. The fairy-lights you bought them are strewn along the ceiling corners and provide only enough light to see him offer you the paper. You still find yourself bringing it within an inch of your face and squinting to make out what it is he’s so intent on showing you.

“It’s from your first day here,” he supplies.

You look for answers in his voice. Motive, emotion, anything. Anything but the unreadable stare he serves you and the thin paper between your fingers. With no other options you draw your flashlight from its holster and bring it up to the page, careful to angle it away from him. Normally he would take a precautionary step back, but today, he remains where he’s at, eyes glued to you. The flashlight clicks in your hand.

“Oh,” a quick breath runs between your teeth, “this is…”

The three of you together. Sun on one side, Moon on the other, and you smack dab in the middle. Crudely drawn as all children’s art is.

You remember the day it was gifted; a regular at the daycare – black hair wrapped in a rainbow scrunchie, the first to arrive and the last to leave – she had come up to you in the moments before it was time for pick-up and tugged at your sleeve. You had spent the day stressed beyond belief and worried about your future at the company, and hardly even noticed her arrival until the art was shoved into your hand.

She disappeared up a slide before you could get a proper look at it, but her eyes found you through the bars of the playpen’s upper level only a minute after. You remember it melting away the stress in your shoulders upon finally turning it over, thinking to yourself that maybe things would work out after all.

Despair opens a hole beneath your feet as the ocean finally drags you under, starving your lungs of air and plunging you into an endless darkness. You fall, and fall, and fall—

“I know it can be…difficult,” Moon’s voice cuts through the pitch, “working here, I mean,” you force yourself to find his eyes, vibrant crimson in a sea of black, “but we can figure something out. Or– or change, maybe, if that’s the problem.”

“What?” Your body feels weightless suddenly, the plummet taking even the bile, even the knots, leaving you with nothing nothing nothing.

“You haven’t worn your daycare nametag all week,” he points out, voice straining as he nods toward the empty space on your chest, “I just – we just thought you would come to us first before transferring.”

The bottom of this great abyss arrives without warning and shatters you entirely. Here, you are no better than a whalefall, heavy bones on the ocean floor, what’s left of you will be picked apart and then swiftly abandoned.

Your knees hit the floor. Moon is quick to follow, eyes flashing wide in a fit of panic, he bends to reach your height and cups a hand over your shoulder. “Star?” The frequency in his voice-box is all wrong. It fizzles and pops with a merciful worry you’ve never been allowed to hear before. “Tell me what’s going on.”

If your world is an ocean then you are a tidal wave, crashing and breaking along the shore, and you risk taking him with you. The paper wrinkles between shaking fists as you finally collapse into a discordant sob, unable to hold it in any longer. The seafoam carries you far, far away, until his voice is nothing but wind in its current. But he’s owed an explanation, isn’t he?

“I’m not transferring to another position,” your every word is pulled like teeth and hurts twice as much, the effort it takes to continue plunging you ever deeper, buried within cold sand, “I was fired, Moon. I’m not coming back.”

His grip on your shoulder hardens until it’s almost painful, nails digging into flesh. You hardly feel it. Your mind sways on uneven waves, your body is numb, a distant part of you, heavy with grief. He releases you on realizing and hesitates only a moment before wrapping his hands around your own. His voice warbles with unspoken dread.

“Why?” He asks.

Why, indeed? You had asked the company a thousand times, and asked yourself a thousand more when their answer wasn’t enough to sate you. Maybe you weren’t working hard enough, fast enough, your efficiency lackluster in every way that counted. Maybe you spent too many hours shooting the breeze with Moon and not enough time sorting boxes of craft supplies or folding blankets. Maybe your coworkers had seen you bringing Sun flowers one too many times. Maybe the kids asked too many questions and you answered with too much, or not enough. Maybe it was a combination of these things, or none of them. Maybe it was as simple as management had made it out to be.

Budget cuts, is what they told you. Your presence was no longer a necessity. The daycare would manage fine on its own.

“I don’t know,” you end up telling him, “maybe I just wasn’t good enough.”

You don’t notice that one of his hands has untangled from yours until the back of his knuckles are brushing along your cheek. They catch a tear as it falls and let it bleed into a strand of hair, gently tucking it behind your ear. “No, no no no, Starlight, you’ve done nothing wrong,” his murmur keeps you from drifting further into the sea, a fragile tether around your waist, fraying at the seams, “I’m sure there’s a way to fix this. We can find a way.”

“I tried,” your sob rings through the empty space of their bedroom, causing him to freeze. “I did everything I could, offered what I could – I’d have worked less hours, accepted less pay, anything. It doesn’t matter!” The tether unravels fiber by fiber. “It’s too late, Moon.” This won’t last. “It’s over.”

“We can still–”

“No!” The tether snaps. You turn your cheek in the palm of his hand and flinch when it cups your jaw, angry tears pouring over his thumb. “I’m so tired of fighting this when it’s obvious that they’ve made up their minds,” you can’t look him in the eye, “Please don’t make this even harder than it already is.”

Your fingers pinch at the edges of the paper, then pull it taut, taking in the art for a final time as water-stains spill across its surface. Wordlessly, you return it to him.

He doesn’t immediately take it, staring back at you, instead, as if by some miracle you’ll change your mind. But you don’t. You get back to your feet when his hand leaves you to take it, a terrible, crackling whine spilling from his throat, the motion of your stand so abrupt his nail stings a thin line down your skin – but you don’t feel it. You don’t feel anything.

He catches you by the wrist as you turn to leave.

“Please,” he whispers, eyes wide, “let us try.”

The waves are cold and heartless. They brush against your skin with affections no less tender than this and numb you down to the marrow. “I’m sorry,” you shake him free of your wrist, “whatever this is, it’s over.”

The door shuts at your heel with a whisper, and Moon does not try to follow.

-

You don’t sleep that night. The look in his eyes haunts you like a ghost, there each time you close your eyes, you toss and turn restlessly from the time you get home to the time your alarm goes off the next morning. Though you expect the sound to be grating as always, today it is anything but. Sweet, like a lullaby. Familiar. You savor it for all of a minute before forcing your hand over the button. Tomorrow, you’ll hear it for the last time – until you can find yourself a new job somewhere else.

You go about your morning routine with a certain amount of listlessness. The waves aren’t turbulent, anymore. They’ve settled into a mindless current, the idle of driftwood on a calm ocean’s surface. You skip breakfast.

Key in the ignition, seatbelt on, you adjust your rearview mirror and swear that Sun smiles at you from the back seat. Here one minute and gone the next. You had often joked about breaking them out, one day. Showing them the world.

How foolish.

Your drive is interrupted by the lazy push of traffic, and you can’t help but feel like the universe itself is dragging its feet with you. The remnants of a nasty fender bender just ahead distracts you briefly. Your mind is drawn back to the many times Moon complained about you driving home each day in what they both considered a death machine. Bitter laughter chokes against your tongue as you pass it by, free hand rooting around for your phone so you can explain away any tardiness.

“It’s fine,” says your boss. Of course it is. You’re only here for a short while longer, anyway.

You’re half an hour past the beginning of your shift when you finally pull into the parking lot, the area busy with cars already. You do what you can to avoid your coworkers’ gaze upon entering and clock in with your head down, thoughts still distant.

There’s an abundance of noise coming from behind the daycare doors long before you reach them. Pushing forward, you find yourself between dozens of children playing in what can only be considered unmonitored chaos. Craft supplies have spilled from their drawers and made a river onto the play mats. Toys litter the walkway, forcing you to step over dolls and plastic rockets and stuffed animals alike just to get to the front desk. The chorus of unrestrained fun bleeds your eardrums.

And there stands Sun at the center of it all, covered head to toe in paint, glue, and stickers, hands shuffling with guilt behind him while your boss verbally chews him up and spits him out.

“What’s going on here?” You drop your bag behind the desk and sidestep through a sea of running toddlers before coming to a stop at your manager’s side. Sun’s head snaps upward with a vocal clickclick at the sound of your voice, the tiniest flicker of relief settling in his overheating frame.

“Finally,” answers your manager, “I don’t know what you’ve been teaching this thing, but it’s gotten far too lazy. These children need to be reigned in immediately,” he gestures wildly at the ensuing chaos, face so red and tight you think he might just pop. “Now that you’re here you better fix it. I expect everything to be taken care of when I return, or you can say goodbye to your last paycheck!”

“Oh, u-um,” you shoot a quizzical look in Sun’s direction, but his face is blank, save for the usual candid smile, “sure thing. They’ll be perfect little angels when you get back.”

Your answer is nothing more than a grunt, that of an angry and pouting dog. He nearly bodies a third grader on his way out.

Your neck cranes to shoot Sun a narrow-eyed look. “What was all that about?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean!” He chirps.

What happens next moves like clockwork. Sun turns on his heel and brings two fingers against his smile, and perfectly imitates the shrill of a whistle, seamlessly gathering the children’s attention with little more than that and a clap of his hands. “Anarchy time is over, children,” he sings, “time to clean up, up, up so we can watch our movie!”

He receives a divided wave of reactions, squeals of glee overshadowed by groans and whines of not being done with their games, just yet, but he’s quick to put a stop to that with the simple lift of a finger. “Remember, first one to clean up their area gets to help me pick out the movie,” his smile undeniably widens behind the mask, “and our snack!”

The resulting chaos is of a different variety. Children of all ages bustling around to do their part until every toy is in a pile and all the crafts have found their way back to the table. Not perfect, by any means, but it’s about as close to organization as the daycare gets until Sun has a proper crack at it himself.

He never needed your help. Not before your arrival, and certainly not now. Sure, having an extra pair of hands around makes his job exponentially easier, but he managed to uphold this business for years before you were hired. He knows just what to do.

And here, too, does he know exactly what he’s doing.

“You cheeky bastard–”

“Language!”

“–you did this on purpose.” You accusingly point a finger toward the smug expression he’s wearing, that plastered smile shining back at you like he is none-the-wiser to what you’re saying. He’s practically mocking the very implication of it. “What were you thinking!”

His head tilts thoughtfully to the side, pointer finger coming to sit atop the chin of his faceplate as if he’s actually thinking about it, “I’m not sure what you mean,” hums Sun. “Do you mean to say that I pulled every drawer from the shelves and placed every toy within reach first thing this morning? That I let the children run amuck, all willy-nilly? That I encouraged their ruckus? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Yes!”

He tuts, shaking his head in disbelief, “I would never do such a thing, sunshine! Why, I’ve just been doing my very best to keep these rowdy tots in line until you could get here. It was utter disarray without you here. Disarray, I tell you!”

You aren’t sure whether to be proud, or allow the feeling of your blood boiling to spill into something more tangible. “I know what you’re doing, Sun,” you decide on a halfhearted scold, instead, “this was risky. Too risky. What if you had been punished with more than a slap on the wrist?”

“I can hardly call that tantrum your manager pulls anything in the way of a slap,” he insists, “and besides, it all ended up just dandy. See?” He nods in the direction of a much cleaner daycare, the children already pouring over a basket of DVDs like vultures on old meat. His hand is heavy as it abruptly rests atop your head and rustles through your hair. “Everything went according to plan, petal. Stop your worrying.”

You slouch under the touch and gently bat his hand away, only half-smiling. “It’s not going to work, you know.”

“It might!”

“But—”

“I told you, didn’t I?” He turns fully now and cups your face between both of his hands, “Quit your worrying, little biter. You’re not allowed to stop trying until the rest of us have.”

You pout something fierce, a frustrated whine already building at the back of your throat. It eventually eases into the lows of a sigh. There’s no point in fighting either of them on this. Sun, especially, is aggravatingly stubborn when he’s set his mind on something. You can only imagine the plans they were making from the very second you left the night before.

Your eye catches on a subtle twitch in his fingers, and deeper still, in the depths of his chest, the whir of an overworked fan. The telltale signs of an anxiety attack that he’s barely restraining. He has every reason to be anxious, too. Sun can’t handle messes on a good day, so to go out of his way to intentionally create this much of it...

He really is trying.

“Thank you, Sun,” you take in a deep breath and hold it, relaxing with the exhale. “I’ll try and be a little less...grumpy, about all of this. Let you have a chance at trying at least.” You feel a pang of guilt at having to say it twice.

His right hand strays from your cheek while the other one stays. “Do you promise this time?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

When he taps his pointer finger against your bottom lip it tastes like sticky paint and glue. Your nose wrinkles, cheeks splitting with a smile even when all you want to do is cry. “I promise.”

-

It doesn’t work.

Why would it?

A single day of ruckus is nothing in the grand scheme of FazCo’s wallet. Sun is given a secondary scolding while being told to do better, and that’s that. There isn’t enough banking on your presence here to bother paying your checks any longer.

You still thank him for the attempt, knowing just how much he put himself through in the effort, and he remains convinced that something will change, even now. That a miracle will bring you back to them. When you say your goodbyes it’s with hope in his eyes, and acceptance in yours. You don’t notice how poorly he’s actually holding himself together.

Or the flicker of purple in his gaze as you leave the daycare behind.

-

That night is no better than the last. If this continues, you’re going to spend your final day with them sleep deprived out of your mind. It’s not like it can be helped, either way, seeing as each attempt at getting some rest violently reminds you of how little time is left. The memories you shared and the memories you had hoped to make, all taken from you in the time it will take for the sun to rise and set once more. It felt like a sick joke. Too cruel to be real.

It’s three in the morning when you receive a call.

You notice your phone vibrating on the bedside table within seconds of it, seeing as you’re still awake and watching old sit-com reruns to quell the anguish in your heart. You don’t hesitate to answer it the moment your eyes settle on the name.

It’s your manager. And he sounds – to put it lightly – like he’s going to piss himself.

“You better get your ass over here,” he half-quivers, half-snarls into the phone, “I mean it. Now.”

You’re already up and looking for your shoes when you hear a heavy thump from the receiver. “What was that?” You ask, eyes scanning the room for your other sneaker, “What’s going on?”

“I forgot something before closing and— does it matter? Just get over here!” Wood splinters around his voice. Behind that, the familiar sound of bells.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” you tell him, “try to find some place to hide.”

Forgetting your shoes entirely, you shove your feet into some slippers (it’ll match the rest of your attire, anyway), and throw yourself out the front door.

-

You really ought to have been pulled over sometime in the mad-dash between your house and the pizza-plex. Either the officers normally patrolling these streets are all at home sleeping like normal people, or your luck is finally turning around. Though, considering the circumstances bringing you to this point, you can’t say that’s entirely true.

The building is quiet as a ghost when you slip inside. “Moon?” Your voice spills over the empty halls and bounces back to meet you again, making the wide arching mouth of the pizzaplex feel that much more hollow. His voice does not answer you.

Instead what you hear is a rattling from the distance. The sound of metal on metal. You head for its direction in a full-body sprint while digging out the phone in your pocket, considering giving your manager another call, but ultimately thinking better of it. If he really was hiding (as he should be, if he cared whatsoever about your advice) the ring would only give his position away. You would just have to find them without it.

It doesn’t take long.

You round the corner to the sight of Moon making a meal out of your manager. Or trying to, at least. The metal bat your boss wields to ward off the normal type of intruder (already dented in to look grotesquely misshapen by now) is the one thing standing between him and a bed six feet under, and judging by the quivering in his arms, that method isn’t going to last much longer. His back presses against the floor with the entire weight of the animatronic atop him.

Moon spits and snarls, teeth gnashing behind the mask and nails carving slivers of metal from the bat that keeps his right hand from doing damage to anything else. The left hangs limply at his side with its elbow joint bent out of shape, wires exposed and barely keeping the limb pieces together. His chest is dented in a number of places, proving that the bat struck successfully more than once, though you can’t say your manager is looking any better.

Especially when you near them and get a proper look at the man who pays your checks; thick blood pools from his nose to chin, coating gritted teeth in red. The color stains his shirt and climbs the length of his body, thin gauges rivering down both arms. And his leg, fuck, the angle is all wrong–

His neck cranes to see you, face red with effort rather than anger for once. “Call your dog off!” He barks.

Ignoring the implications of that, you nod like your life depends on it (as it’s surely about to) and raise your hands into the air, daring a step closer. “Moon,” your chest feels tight, as though you aren’t getting in enough air, but you’ve done this song and dance plenty of times before. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Can you look at me?”

And he does. Against all odds, he does. The ever briefest flicker in your direction, a long enough distraction to give your manager a chance at escape but not enough to prevent Moon from immediately trying to follow.

“Hey,” you find his wrist to stop him in place, mirroring his own gesture from only a night before. An unspoken plead.

His head does a one-eighty to look directly at you, the expression he regards you with being that of a total stranger. Icy dread sinks into the lengths of your stomach and takes your heart with it.

"Moon, it’s me," you try again, "I'm here, I’m here, can you–"

His good hand raises, fingers winding above your elbow, and for an ever fleeting moment you think that maybe he's already found his way back to you. Then your feet leave the floor.

And your body ragdolls across the tile.

It’s a fickle thing, human life. It was stupid to think you could go into this situation guns blazing and still make it out okay. But it’s here, your back against the floor and body aching like a fire ablaze, when your eyes crack open to the sight of your manager limping toward the exits – leaving you behind like table scraps – that you realize just how much trouble you’re in.

Moon’s sharpened nails tickle against the back of your throat as his fingers encircle and squeeze, the choked breath he draws forth beating against your already battered ribs.

“Moon–” His name becomes lodged in your throat, rasping violently as you feel yourself raised in one smooth motion. Your back connects with the wall with merciless force and any hopes you may have had about this, too, all being an act disappear in an instant.

Tears brim at the corner of your eyes, your vision already starting to dwindle, they burn down your cheeks for what feels like the hundredth time that week. Still, you refuse to allow this to be how it ends. You’ll get your final day here, even if it takes everything you have left. Even if you’re forced to wield the same ocean that dragged you under.

“Please,” you whisper. His grip tightens. Your lungs sting with the effort of each breath, mind racing for the right words to say when it all becomes clear to you. “We can find a way to fix this,” your eyes search for any remaining piece of him, desperate and pleading as he’d been the night before, ”just let me try.“

One finger pries away, then another.

You collapse to the floor in an instant.

Moon stares upon you with a look you can’t quite read. He recognizes the words, he has to, or you wouldn’t be swallowing mouthfuls of air right now. Even so, his level of clarity is uncertain.

“Have to–” his good hand twitches, fingers contorting indecisively, “have to keep you here,” he says. “Late. It’s late.” His hand balls into a fist, then relaxes. The black swallowing his eyes begins to recede, giving way to familiar crimson if only in small, slow increments. “Time for bed.”

The song and dance continues, even if he’s forgotten which direction to put his feet and the lyrics are all wrong. You know the meaning behind them; what he wants to say, what he’s trying to say.

So you offer him a nod, slow at first but building with your confidence. You can still save yourself. Save him. “Yeah, I was just getting ready to lie down,” you tell him around a cough, “S-See?” You point with a wary smile towards yourself, thanking your lucky stars that you decided to wear an actual pajama set to bed for once instead of just an old T-shirt and pants. There’s only one slipper remaining on your foot – the other sits abandoned a few feet from where you currently sit, having been lost in the scuffle. Moon follows your gaze to its location.

He gives you a sideways, narrow eyed expression, red slits among a field of black which blends seamlessly into the dark hallway. Then he’s lowering himself into a crouch and half stepping, half scuttling towards your slipper. It would be endearing if you weren’t skating on thin ice right now.

Bending further to pick it up, he eyes the slipper for a moment before looking over his shoulder for confirmation. You nod, once more, and bring yourself to yawn with enough dramatics that it has his eyes dilating in that special way, more red blooming and overtaking the black. The action is only half forced. You really are exhausted.

Like tiptoeing across the thinnest layer of a frozen lake, you wait until he’s finished placing the slipper back on your foot before continuing with the next part of this dance. “Will you help me get to sleep?”

He stares, eyes calculating, as if he knows it’s all a game. You’re tricking his code in the only way that still works – and it doesn’t always work – but it has to, this time, because your whole life relies on him playing along.

And he does, lending you only a nod before bending at the knees and scooping you into his arms, bridal style, at a pace that denies any chance for argument. You don’t fight him, anyway, and you don’t miss the wince that crosses his face as his wounded arm wraps weakly around your shoulders, either, barely able to keep you there.

You also don’t miss the irony of having spent two days waging war against your insomnia only to be taken in for a nap by the very person you wanted so desperately to avoid. They weren’t meant to see you in this state. Likewise, you know how much he hates you to see him like this, too. A fair trade, you suppose. Life is funny like that. And by funny, you mean unfair and horrible.

When you breach the Daycare doors, Moon makes a beeline for the nap area and sets you down on a nest of blankets and pillows. It’s normally their job to fold and sort these into their respective cubbies, so you can only imagine their displacement here was a culmination of built up stress. The image of Moon refolding each blanket again and again without gaining any proper satisfaction from it plagues your mind, reinforcing the guilt that has already begun to creep its slow fingers around your throat again.

He wordlessly settles a pillow beneath your head before thinking better of it and tossing it across the room, though the blanket he had tucked you in with remains where it’s at. Then, changing his mind again, he slumps into a heavy sit just behind you and draws you near, your back against his chest, both arms surrounding you in a hug despite the effort it takes for him to raise his left below the elbow. His faceplate bonks gently against the top of your head.

And he’s silent like this for a long, long while. Leaving you feeling tense and defenseless, never truly knowing if you’re out of the woods just yet. If he’s come back to himself. You don’t allow yourself to look back until a quiet tremor spreads through the arms holding you tight, extending to his hands, trembling fingers curling into your shirt, eventually traveling throughout his entire casing until it feels like his very exoskeleton will vibrate straight out of its frame.

A noise stirs from his voicebox that you don’t immediately recognize. Practically a whisper, at first, it strains against his mechanics like a high pitched whistle through steel pipes before the frequency snaps, becoming the whitenoise heard between television channels, loud, discordant, ugly and raw.

A sob wracks through him.

“You can’t leave,” he chokes between the static in his throat, tucking you ever closer, “please, please, please don’t leave us.”

The agony his voice wields threatens to pull you back under. You fight the sensation, forcing yourself to relax in his hold, instead, even as you suffocate within it. Tears well into your eyes for the umpteenth time and fall soundlessly from your chin to land against his arms.

After a decisive moment, you make up your mind, answering him first with a stern shake of your head. “I won’t,” you promise, “they’ll have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming.”

Your chin lifts with an effort to meet his eyes, and you smile, wry and shaky as it is, hoping that he’ll reciprocate. He doesn’t. Looking down on you with a black, oily sheen smudging his cheeks, instead. You can’t bring yourself to blame him for it. In the end there’s only so much you can do. A promise is nothing in the eyes of the organization behind their very existence.

“I’ll stay the night,” you tell him, as if it’s any comfort. He answers with nothing more than a nod, then rests his chin atop your head, again, not willing to meet your eyes any longer. More noise spills from his voicebox, weak and distant, none of it words.

It isn’t long after that he begins to sway. A subtle rock from side to side, joined a moment later by the familiar tune of his music box, its winds and clicks singing against your cheek when you turn to face his chest.

For the first time since receiving that dreadful phone call, you find yourself drifting with ease. Darkness curls around you like a warm blanket to the gentle, albeit shaky hum in Moon’s throat, soothing you ever further, despite your struggle to stay awake with him for just a little longer. Just one moment more, safe in his arms.

Sleep drags you under.

-

It’s morning when you next wake. The day is only getting started, judging by the position of the sun as it glares through the daycare windows and directly into your eyes. You are greeted by your other Sun, who smiles at the sight of your eyes fluttering open and has you wrapped up in his arms much in the same position as you had fallen asleep, though you take note of an additional blanket wrapped around you.

“Morning, sunshine,” he croaks – an odd and unfamiliar lack of excitement in his quiet tone – though you know it would be cruel to expect happiness from him after last night. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm...actually, yes,” you admit around a yawn, “but I’m sure it was only a few hours.”

“Three, to be exact,” Sun answers you. His arms unwind, careful of the damage to his left, to finally return your freedom. He is visibly reluctant to do so. “It’s around seven, now. How do you feel?”

You shimmy out of his remaining grip and take the opportunity to stretch and turn yourself around, careful not to go very far. Sun’s fingers twitch in your absence like he’s waiting for an excuse to pull you back into his lap. “Seven already?” You dodge his second question, not wanting to get into how sore you are after being chucked like a stuffed toy across the room only hours before. Moon is doubtlessly feeling guilty about that enough as it is. “Shouldn’t you be getting the daycare ready for open?”

He reaches for you, but thinks better of it, and tucks the hand back into his lap with the other. “I just–” his voice strains, going silent. Every ray has disappeared into his faceplate to leave only the points. It isn’t until your own hand outstretches and rests against his that he rediscovers his voice. “I just wanted to spend more time with you, whatever time we had left.”

Your smile wavers, tears threatening to spill across your cheeks again right then and there. There is a telling layer of black oil coating the underside of Sun’s eyes, too, that you elect to ignore. “I understand,” you tell him, “but you’re only going to get yourself in more trouble if the daycare isn’t open on time. My boss might not let me finish out the day if that happens.”

A whine rings from his throat at the mere possibility of it, that of a guilty dog staring at the floor, tail tucked between its legs. He goes to say something, but you beat him to it.

“Come on, I’ll help you get set up, and we can talk some more in the meantime.” You look down at your clothes, remembering your impatience to get out of the house the night before, and grimace a bit. “We can just say I thought it was pajama day, or something. I’m sure the kids will love that. Let me just get some caffeine in me first and then we can–”

Cool fingers wind around your wrist while your knees are still bent, not even fully to your feet yet. His hold on you isn’t painful, but it is dangerously close to becoming so, and you don’t have to look far to see the panic in his eyes.

“I’ll come right back,” you promise, “Just a quick hop down to the coffee booth, that’s all. I’ll even bring some fizzy faz back for you.”

His whine sharpens, reverberating against his chest. “You aren’t supposed to be here in the first place, remember? What if you’re caught?”

“What are they going to do, fire me?”

It is evident by the harsh squeeze he gives your wrist that he does not, in fact, find your joke funny. Nevertheless, he begrudgingly releases his hold on you and takes to rhythmically tapping all ten fingers against his knees, instead, the metallic tink tink tink echoing even through the fabric of his pants. “Be quick, please?” He begs.

You give him a quick nod and take off in the direction of the booth with as much skip in your step as you can muster. Which, admittedly, isn’t a whole lot. Three hours is still three hours, even if it was spent in the arms of your favorite people, and you’re still feeling downright miserable on the emotional front.

The staff bot greets you by name as you shuffle up to the counter and order your usual, taking care not to burn yourself on the cheap styrofoam cup that gets handed back to you. When you turn back around, lethargic and gripping the cup too tight, you come face to face with your manager.

He looks…well, he’s looked better. There are bandages wrapped around both arms, a collection of them scattered across his face and jaw, none of it professionally administered. You imagine that even the management around here does their best to avoid a lawsuit. Though, judging by the crutches he’s using, you have to assume he went to someone with medical training after patching up what he could himself.

You expect him to be upset. Pissed off, really. Instead, he looks at you as though he’s seen a ghost. That, if nothing else, gets a laugh out of you.

“Hey, boss,” you hum, trying to act nonchalant, “having a nice morning?”

“I–” he gawks for a while longer, wetting his chapped lips. You think he looks almost normal without all the angry red and popping veins. “I wasn’t expecting you to be–”

“Alive?” You supply, cocking an eyebrow. Your smirk is definitively smothered, trying not to get too cocky with the asshole who left you to die the night before, but its presence can be heard in your tone nonetheless.

“Back at work, already,” he corrects with a strong grimace, evidently knowing he’s been seen through already. “Didn’t Moon…”

“I got him under control,” you say with an easy shrug. It isn’t the first time. Were the circumstances different, you’re sure it wouldn’t be the last, either. “Can I still keep the coffee? I know I’m not on the clock yet, but…”

“It’s–” he stills, breaking awkwardly into silence for a moment before deflating with a long and tortured sigh. “It’s fine,” he grumbles. “Doesn’t matter.”

He is silent as you pay the bot, sipping sagely on his own coffee while avoiding your eye and wearing a painfully constipated expression. It isn’t until you’re preparing to head back that he calls your name again, causing you to pause, dread rising in your gut. You force yourself to turn around.

He looks sour in the face, like the staff bot traded out his coffee’s sugar for a handful of lemons. You are preparing yourself for the scolding of a lifetime when his eyes roll, casting to the side. “You’re being demoted to minimum wage,” he tells you.

It takes a few seconds too long for the words to catch up to your brain. When at last the implications sink in, it takes real, actual effort to not smile like a kid on Christmas and jump around right there in front of him.

You settle for a wide – normal – smile, instead, but still laugh a little too loudly, nodding with enough enthusiasm to make him groan. “Sure thing,” you tell him, “I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow. O-Or whenever. Same schedule?”

“Sure,” he grunts, “just keep your dogs under control.”

And then he’s gone. Simple as that. He walks past you and into his office, shutting the door with a soundless click, and you are left in an empty hall too early in the morning, coffee going cold in your hand, a hundred thoughts racing through your mind and all of them sending you into a run back towards the daycare.

The drawing comes to mind again. Sun on one side, Moon on the other, and you in the middle – and it’s here where you can no longer stop the smile that blossoms across your face, the heat that warms your chest and sooths away every cold and aching wave that had threatened to drown you and take your heart with it.

Yeah… maybe it would all work out after all.

#drabbles #sun x reader #moon x reader #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #sundrop #moondrop #DCA #DCA fandom

[nebuladreamz]

“You make for terrible habits.”

The words ring in your ears as you paused for a split second, broom still in your grip before continuing. “Oh yeah?” You reply, no hesitance. “What makes you think that?”

Save for both of your presences, El Chip’s is quiet, the lights dimmed considering it was after hours. One of these days you were going to strangle your employer for the change in times, but some good came out from staying past closing. One of them being talking to your recent favorite bot. Well, technically two, but whatever.

You lifted your head up towards the ceiling, seeing your favorite hanging there, red beady eyes staring in your direction.

Arms finding each other crossed against your chest, letting the broom lean at an angle atop one of the dining tables, you raise a brow at him. “Well? What makes you think so, twinkletoes?”

He scowls at the name, which only makes you give a cocky grin.

Moon takes a few beats of silence for himself until he finally relents an answer. “Figure it out.”

You huff at that. “You’re one to talk then.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Now you’re just saying things.”

A scratchy chuckle itches your ears as you move to grab the handle of the tool to return to work. The lunar-themed robot irritated you at points, but despite his efforts of annoying and pestering you (ones that always succeeded), you could never find yourself liking him any less. What could you say? You like the kind of guy that could wreck your shit. At least half the time.

So when the time came that his hands found their place around your neck, squeezing painfully, tears pricking your eyes, the bubbling fire threatening to push through his grip was surprising. You can’t remember what was said before now.

But it hurts. Maybe it was your fault. You don’t know. It hurts.

He had a habit of getting too close. A terrible habit until the end.

#nebula writes #just a quick drabble i forgot i wrote like. two months ago #dca fandom #moon x reader #i guess??? #doomed love i guess #something something the mental image of moon seeing you/y/n as an inch #feeling like he should or can do something but it's just barely outside his grasp #and it only takes one little thing for that itch to be scratched #whether it ends up good or not depends on the situation me likes to think #anywho #not starlit related (yet) but god #oughghgh

[asriel20asi]

Moon cradles your hands between his own, places a soft kiss upon your knuckles and hums a lullaby that is soft and sweet, lulling you to sleep.

#moon x reader #moon x y/n #moondrop x reader #moondrop x y/n #dca moon #dca moondrop #dca x reader #dca x y/n #dca fandom #dca drabble

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

"W...W-Why are you doing this...?!" Sun blinked and cocked his head, feigning the look of an innocent child. "Huh? Ohhh!" He rested an elbow in one hand, using the other to draw a circle in the air referencing the man's predicament before walking around his chair. "You mean the whole 'tying you up and torturing you' thing! Well, it's quite obvious, isn't it~?"

Sun stopped directly behind him, bending low to speak directly into the man's ear.

"For Calvin, Mr. Grisham. For Eloise. And for every child in this town who has had to suffer, because of monsters like you."

Mr. Grisham trembled in his restraints, the sweet-sounding voice of Sun now laced with sinister and utter darkness. "Please, I-"

"Did you know-!" Sun halted him, continuing his walk around the chair. He waved an arm in Moon's direction, who fluidly twirled his knife, watching the man's blood still caked on it flick about the room. "My brother and I used to take care of children? You remember the pizzeria in the big city, don't you? Well, just because we are no longer daycare attendants, that doesn't mean our roles have changed. No no no~ Our roles have simply-"

Sun stopped back in front of Mr. Grisham's chair, getting into the man's face once more. His hands, once folded behind his back now gripping the arm rests. The wood creaked and nearly gave way from his grip alone. Sun's colored irises had shrunken down to slits, rattling with a craziness just waiting to bust free. His grin nearly stretched off of the edges of his face plate. A thin, black line formed between his teeth, and grew as his seemingly permanent-closed mouth, opened.

"Evolved," he finished, the word rattling in his robotic throat and chest.

Mr. Grisham whimpered, leaning back as much as he could from the looming animatronic. He squeezed his eyes and turned his head away. "S-Stop that-!"

Two hands grabbed at his head, turning it to face forward again. Two thumbs pulled his eyelids up, forcing him to look.

"What's wrong, Mr. Grisham~? Do I frighten you~?" Sun mockingly cooed. He leaned in closer, his nose pressed against Mr. Grisham's. "Good. Take a good, long, look, Mr. Grisham. I want you feel afraid. But this fear, is NOTHING compared to the fear you have inflicted upon your own children."

Sun's grip tightened. How easily he could pop this man's head like a grape. How badly he wanted to, how eagerly he wanted this maggot dead. But no. He had to suffer first. He had to pay. Sun relished in the man's whimpering as he trembled in his hands. Hot steam puffed from Sun's ajar mouth, ghosting the man's face.

"I wonder..." he thought aloud, his mouth a dangerous number of inches from the shivering man's head, "if I can scalp you with my own teeth~"

"Sun."

The animatronic paused, his eyes flicking to his left, towards Moon. The lunar animatronic stopped twirling his knife and simply stood there, giving his twin a known look between them with a raise brow.

Quickly--too quickly--Sun composed himself and stepped away, arms and hands open in surrender. "Ahaha! Apologies, brother! I got a little carried away there, didn't I?"

A small smile etched across Moon's face as he stepped forward. He couldn't fault Sun for his...eagerness. He placed a gloved hand on his twin's shoulder. "Go sanitize your gloves and face. Remove any traces of oil and skin."

Sun playfully saluted. "On it! I'll leave you to do the honors~" He then skipped away to do as instructed.

Mr. Grisham watched him go, bewildered and outright frightened by the swift changes in personality. Suddenly, something cold and sharp under his chin directed him to look forward, and he met Moon's hooded gaze, his face illuminated by narrow blue and red pupils. His own grin had widened and opened. Mr. Grisham whimpered as the tip of the knife pressed into his chin.

"Now that Sun's had his turn...looks like it's mine again~ Try to stay awake, Mr. Grisham. It's more fun that way~"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

:3c

@moonlit-dreamers

#dca!serial killer au #fnaf daycare au #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf security breach #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #the daycare attendant #for the children #cw torture #knives #spooky imagery #drabble #doodles #serial killer sun #serial killer moon #serial killer #serial killer duo #the boys are having fun #this guy is done for #rest in piss #cw blood #cw knife #they're a little unhinged

[deyisacherry]

Closing time. — Sun x Moon drabble.

The Superstar Daycare had finally closed its doors for the day. The children were picked up by their parents, and the place was now in complete order.

The animatronics in charge of that place were sitting in their room, Sun with his back to Moon, while he carefully rearranged the wires on his plate, because one of the children accidentally pulled them. For clinging to Sun and refusing to leave the daycare, his small hands reached for the wires behind his head. The little boy wanted to continue playing, but his mother was finally able to convince him, and they both calmly retired.

Luckily, they weren't too important wires and the only problem that Sun had was having his rays stuck for a while before closing.

“Alright, that's it. Try to retract them.” Moon asks with a softer voice than usual, due to his slightly low battery... And also because that's how he prefers to talk to Sunny, since he notices the clear comfort it gives him.

Sun obeys and retracts his rays without problem, silently.

“Good, now extend them again.”

Sun obeys once more, and then turns them from one direction to another, as a sign that he is now in perfect condition.

Moon smiles and softens his expression. His hands now travel to the ruffled collar on Sun's neck, also fixing it so it returns to its shape a little. “You're pretty quiet today. Is everything okay, Sunny?”

Sun just nods softly, letting Moon do his thing. He plays with his fingers absentmindedly, while he keeps looking ahead, lost.

Moon tilts his head in mild concern. He lets out a static sound like a sigh, and he moves from his spot to stand side by side with Sun. He gently nudges him with his shoulder, looking at him expectantly.

“Hey... usually you're the one who does most of the talking, and I'm the one who listens patiently. Something wrong?" Moon says, raising his voice just a little more. “You can tell me, you know that, right?... I don't think I fixed any cables wrong, so I can say that your voice box is fine-”

“Moony.” Sun interrupts.

Moon stops talking for a moment, and then answers. “Yes, Sunflower?”

“Do you think I'm still good at taking care of children?”

Moon straightens, and tilts his head in confusion. What kind of question is that?

He puts a hand on Sun's, making him stop moving them, asking him to look straight at him, but the solar animatronic remains with a distant gaze.

“... Of course you do, Sunny. You are the best at taking care of the little stars.” Moon says as he gently caresses the other's hands with his thumb. "Why you ask?"

Sun shrugs, tense.

“I guess… after all that time being alone…” Moon's hand lightly squeezes Sun's, knowing what he means. “... Sometimes I feel like it's not the same. I get too nervous, or- or I make mistakes, or I feel overwhelmed when they leave.” Sun glances at Moon, and has a sad expression. “I feel like I'm new at this again... and I'm also afraid that I'll lose them, and you, again.”

Moon's eyes widen a little. Worried, he takes the sides of Sun's head in his hands, staring at him. “Sunny…” He says his name softly. “That's not going to happen, never again. That... thing is gone. It can’t hurt me, or you, or them.”

Sun sighs, looking down.

“I know how you feel, because... you know better than anyone how hard it was for me to believe that I'm no longer a monster.” Sun lets out a small sound of understanding. “But look at me now, and look at us. Look how well things have gone, and even many more children have come here than before. We are fine, we are safe and so are they, Sunny.”

Sun looks up again.

“And we are together. I am here with you. I can hug you, and see you, and always accompany you now. None of that will ever happen again. I promise you."

Sun's expression turns into a loving smile. His face plate rotates instead of his beams, since they're trapped between Moon's hands. Moon laughs sweetly at this, adoring how expressive his Sun is.

“And again... I believe, that you are the best of all. In everything you do.” Moon waits for Sun to stop turning his faceplate, and presses his smile against his forehead. Sun lets out small flustered giggles, putting his hands on Moon's wrists.

“... Thank you, Moony.”

“There is nothing to thank for, Sunlight.”

They both smile lovingly, looking into each other's eyes.

“... May I have my turn helping you arrange your clothes and cables?”

Moon laughs, tilting his face plate while maintaining a lovestruck expression.

"Sure." He replies, before giving him one more kiss.

#daycare attendant fnaf #fnaf security breach #sun x moon #sundrop x moondrop #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #sundrop #moondrop #daycare attendant #fnaf moondrop #fnaf sundrop #fnaf dca #dca #dca sun #dca moon #drabble #NOT BROTHERS #NOT THE SAME ANIMATRONIC

[lunarmoves]

the words had slipped out of your mouth almost unconsciously.

they’d been festering in your mind for a while, you knew. bubbling and boiling until you felt akin to a tumultuous volcano. it was only inevitable that you’d eventually spew them out, you thought. you were just lucky it was after hours in the daycare, when it was just you and him. alone and with a finite amount of time at your fingertips.

“i beg your pardon?” sun said at the same time something cracked in his grip.

you glanced at his hand to see a broken crayon gripped in it. he didn’t let it go, his wide eyes latched onto your form from where he’d been cleaning up the drawing tables.

you swallowed thickly, a heat encompassing your neck and ears. you looked away, suddenly shy and— something else. “…never mind. forget i said anything.”

“no, friend.” he finally opened his hand to drop the broken crayon into the plastic box he was holding. then he set it down on a table and strode up to your lingering form to grip at your upper arms. something gleamed in the flickering iridescence of his optics. “what did you say?”

it was more difficult now than before with how he was acting. something squirmed in your gut, but you couldn’t avoid him and his persistence, you knew this. your eyes flicked off to the side and it felt like you had to force the words out again. “…i love you.”

there was a moment where he just stared blankly at you. then his eyes crinkled sharply and he started to laugh.

it wasn’t a kind thing—loud and harsh and echoing around the daycare in a way that made it all the more jarring. he laughed and laughed and laughed, breathless somehow and with a shrillness that hurt your eardrums. made you feel so utterly nauseous.

you could only stand there, confused and a bit hurt. he had let go of your arms in his laughter, folding them across his stomach like you’d just told him the funniest fucking joke in the world. you burned with embarrassment.

the abruptness with which he stopped laughing made you nearly flinch—cut off so suddenly like it was a recording. wiping a fake tear from his eye, sun leaned over your figure with his gaze trained on your face.

“no you don’t,” was his frigid reply. and it was so unexpected after all of… that that you snapped your gaze back up to his faceplate in confusion and a tinge of fiery offense.

“what?” you snapped out. you were bubbling and boiling—but not in the same way as before.

“you don’t love me,” he repeated with all the intent of a colossal glacier moving down a river. his white pupil gaze turned half-lidded.

you were irate and you knew it showed. “you can’t just—”

“oh but i can!” he interrupted cheerily, reaching out with a hand to boop your nose. the lighthearted action juxtaposed heavily against the fire licking at your heart.

you made an angry noise. “it’s my feelings and i’m telling you i—”

“my dear!” sun exclaimed loudly over your voice to smother it. “look at me!” he gestured down at himself—all yellow and red and bells and stripes and metal metal metal. his voice was weighed down by tons of concrete and it felt like a stab to your chest. “you don’t love me. you don’t love this.”

then he gripped onto your arms once more, face strained in a wide smile bordering on manic desperation. you felt all the simmering rage dissipate in a snap—leaving you so utterly cold.

and when he spoke, it was like his words were held together only by a tight, fraying thread. “you can’t.”

#remember when i said i had another idea for the ily drabble i wrote a few days ago? #yeah. #yeah… #sun x reader #sun x y/n #sundrop x reader #sundrop x y/n #sundrop x you #dca fandom #dca fanfic #dca x reader #dca x y/n #daycare attendant x reader #daycare attendant x y/n #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf dca x reader #shay scribbles daydreams

[scarredlove]

Last Line Challenge-

Rules:

In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many as you like).

I am grateful for the tag @spadillelicious!! Sorry for such a late response

Something I'm currently been working on is something my brain was cooking as I worked- Note to self: Don't be unsupervised lol

Last Line:

"If the money isn't collected by tomorrow, then I suggest you go to church." You begin, looking over to him with ice. "Maybe your God will show you some mercy... Because my boys won't."

Last Art:

Please know these aren't final~

@certified-handler @pr0ng3ls @mamajebbun @sammehshark @clxckwork-sun-n-moon

#word chain #tagging game #last line challenge #last line tag #spadillelicious #thanks for the tag! #sorry for late reply! #scar rambles #post #scarredlove #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fnaf au #dca au #dca fandom #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #mafia au #myart #my art #scar drabbles #scar writes #sun #moon #aubade #vesper #fnaf oc #fnaf fc #sun x you #moon x you

[vacantfields]

Moon had been watching Sun pace back and forth on the floor, his bells jingling as he walked. Moon was sitting high up on the jungle gym while watching Sun mutter to himself.

"They will come back safe, Sun," Moon spoke after a bit as he scratched a claw on one of the bars.

Sun groaned. "I can't believe-" As Moon had guessed, Sun wasn't listening to him, but what else was new? "That HE asked our Starlight out on a date!" Sun complained, his tone whining.

Moon hummed as Sun continued. "I mean, it's great! Great, great, GREAT that our Starlight is so loving but but but! Eclipse is so ruined! He is not our Eclipse!" Moon rolled his eyes at this.

"Sunny. Eclipse is fine, and I know you're happy he's back around again, just like I am, so I don't know what this bit is that you're doing." Moon said, sounding slightly bored as he flicked the bell at the end of his nightcap.

Sun stopped pacing and crossed his arms over his broad chest as he looked up at Moon, who sat high up on the jungle gym. He was pouting.

That's when it hit Moon, and he grinned widely.

"Oh, you're jealous!" Moon laughed as Sun huffed and stomped his foot, his face aglow with a heavy blush. "I am not! I just know I'm Starlight's favorite, that's all!"

Moon barked out a louder laugh. "OH PLEASE! AS IF!!"

They kept bickering for what seemed like hours, and when you entered the Daycare, holding Eclipse's big hand in your smaller one. You were stunned to see the two tall androids on the colorful floor fighting it out like two feral cats.

Eclipse chuckled at the sight, and you looked up towards him with an arched brow. Eclipse looked down at you and smiled. "They're just acting like children, I suppose."

Made sense, you thought and giggled a little as you two sat on the floor while watching the two others.

You would have to clean up with them after, but it's always rather funny watching the two fight like this. Eclipse looked amused, too, and at some point, he joined in on the play-fighting. You smiled and watched them.

You loved these three idiots.

#things are better au #Tab writing #Tab sun #Tab moon #Tab eclipse #dca fandom #Drabble #Writing #Silly #Short #Sun x reader #Moon x reader #Eclipse x reader #Sun x moon x eclipse x reader #daycare attendant x reader

[missterious-figure]

Peacock y/n + peacock bois

I cannot remember what i was going on about in previous ask.

Peacock Y/n would be aggressive towards peacock Sun, Moon and Eclipse at first. But gradually it would turn into a sweeter situation.

Have some doodles of the four of them being goobs!

You never really knew when it happened. When you had fallen so deeply in love. You had hated them... those celestial peacock brothers, Sun, Moon and Eclipse. Just looking at them used to bring out a feeling of disgust in your gut. Now all you gut could do was make butterflies when you were faced before them.

Everything had started out great for you. You had your own private room. A handler to abide to your every wish. Your appearance to the public was so hyped and anticipated people were begging for you to perform early. And when you did do your first performance at the Birds of Paradise casino was a big hit, so much so you were immediately reassigned to dance with the three bastards. That's when things become less ideal.

As soon as you met them your guard was up. You had heard enough about them to know they were the type to get under your skin. You didn't have to wait long to be proven right. During every dance they always tried to one up you. Afterwards they would tease and taunt you every second they got. They weren't outwardly mean or calling you names- besides pet names- they just relentless flirted with you and tried to get you flustered. You soon had enough and were determined to show them their place in the nonexistent pecking order. But they already knew their place. The top, as far as they were concerned.

You tried your best to knock them down a peg, but every time you did, every time you fought back, it only made things worse. They would only try harder to accommodate to your challenge. The brothers were getting more physical the more you resisted their teasing. Sun was leaving kisses on you forhead and cheek. Moon started bringing you treats and refusing to let you leave until he could feed them all to you. Eclipse groomed you and styled your feathers to his liking, telling you how handsome you looked.

Finally, after so long, you caved and stopped fighting so much. All their actions becoming less teasing. They were becoming much more sweet. It actually felt like they genuinely loved you. Maybe they had always loved you, but they just didn't know how to express it properly... but they did seem a bit sad. They missed the feisty you.

So you decide that if they wanted it, they would get it. You weren't as mean or indifferent as before. It was more of a friendly aggression. You began trying to find ways to fluster them back, which you found was quite easy. You hadn't thought of it before. You mostly retorted them or become mean. But flustering them was more rewarding. You loved seeing their feathers bristle when you planted a sneaky kiss on one of their cheeks and ran away. You came to love the games of chase that would ensue afterwards, the vengeful little kisses they would get back once they caught you. Your favorite thing of all was when you snuggled up with them at the end of the day in one of your private rooms. You would cuddle and coo to each other until you all fell asleep.

You didn't mind the butterflies in your stomach anymore. You loved your bastard boyfriends so much. But you had to admit, sometimes, you did still hate their guts.

#dca au #wine and feathers au #answered #digital art #peacock y/n #peacock eclipse #peacock sun #peacock moon #missterious drabble