Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Their life wasn’t really that difficult, honestly.

Just have fun with the kids! Keep ‘em safe, right? Make sure no-one is left out! Playtime all day.

Smile, though they won’t have a choice. Play some games! He hated the bright lights. But he didn’t! Light meant safety, and the absence of pain! How dare you keep the lights on, he hates this. Puppet Shows were awesome! So were arts and crafts! OOH, storytime! His favorite! No, he doesn't like it.

Oh? Looks like a child is up past play hours. Good thing the lights stay on for another ten minutes. Got to get the child to sleep, quick.

“Hey there, little lady! How about we wind down for a nap, alright?” They cheer, though one more friendly than the other. Oh gosh, the kid doesn't want to! She’d better follow the daycare rules!

Or what; she’d asked? They tried for a good while to calm down the raving kid, why was she so mad? Oh no no no this child was being naughty. Gotta get the kid to sleep please just go to bed when were the
—- li gh ts —--

/g oin g /

\o f f f?\

**No,
NO please ***

…Do n’t go off y et …
- - -
P l e as e
J u St—

The lights were no more.
Everything hurts.

His skin was folding in on itself.
Why did this hurt so much?
Robots aren’t supposed to feel.
Right?
Perhaps he deserved this for making poor mooney endure those lights.
So selfish.
Perhaps not.

Chapter Text

The pain was a difficult thing to get used too, but this once it went easy on the sentience. And so he rose from the dark, last mechanical plates flipping around to reveal him. It was about time, too. Never mind the pain, he hated the other one most of all. Always keeping him in the light for so long. Then again, isn't that what all heroes do? When faced with their no-good-evil-villain 'dark side'?
The worse half?

Could it really be called that, though? He felt quite whole himself, just sharing a being with another sentience. At the same time nothing really felt completely right, not as if he were fully alive or existing. More of an afterthought, if anything at all.

Never mind all that, he was getting of track here. He? It? What precisely WAS this robot, anyway- Wait! Getting distracted again. Must focus on the task at hand here.

Oh, it's past this child's bedtime. And she's still up! What a-

wa it****

They're a naughty child.

waitwai t nono owait let meBACK out****

When his vision kicked in he could see that now, the child looked white as a sheet. The other one must have scared her when it gave way to the darkness. Tsk, tsk. Serves it right honestly.

As long as the lights stayed off for a bit he'd get to enjoy existing for at least another hour or two. When did kids' nap-times become so short?

He gave an eerie sort of noise. Not human, per-say, but enough to come across as a grumbled threat to the youngster. Apparently she'd found it clever to run away from the nap-time area and made a beeline for the ball pit, which was always the girl's favorite place to hide while playing hide-and-seek, it had informed him.

But now wasn't playtime. This child was being naughty, and it was up to him to put a stop to the bad behavior.

don't hur ther no-stopl et m e outof her e wherearethelights****

He hissed, scratching at the plastic of his head at the annoying program's selfishness. He needed a turn, too! Only rule-breakers hogged all the existing like that.

He reached the ball pit, calling out whatever the kid's registered name was and repeating that it was time for a nap. Stars glowed dimply upon the ceiling overhead, and barley a sound was made as he tried to lure the human out with promises of whatever kids liked currently. Candy, perhaps? Even a free limited-edition Moon Candy! (Well, he'd never bothered to learn what the staff called it but it made kids sleepy so to hell with the name.)

Eventually he got through to the little monster, watching her climb out of the ball pit pouting and kicking stray ball pit balls halfheartedly.

itstoo darkin here****

He guides the child back to the napping area.

idon'tlikeitinhere****

Then the hook helps him up to the platform, tuning into a surveillance mode to keep a watchful eye over the sleeping children.

Le t me e e oo ut****

Chapter Text

Watching, watching; like always. So uneventful.

One could call his time existing a boring thing, but he rather liked it that way. Nothing except the clock to threaten his peaceful time.

But he didn’t like the children, no. They’d get so disruptive when something didn’t go their way, and never seemed to follow the rules! It annoyed him to no end. How did it even handle all these brats? Surely it must get tiring at some point.

Maybe it was just programmed that well?

Speaking of which, it’d gone quiet in his head a while ago. Was it a head-? He tapped the plastic lightly, tracing a joint along the crease going down the front of it. Yes, he supposed it was a head. Anything with eyes and a mouth, though they didn’t open, counted as a head to him.

The silence was a nice change of pace for the moon, who’s always found the sun’s constant presence nothing short of maddening. But this time it seemed like it’d gone dark for awhile up there.

He counted the seconds; minutes as they went by even if he didn’t have too. Even if his clock would always know how long until his time was up.

Something that did give him some sense of routine through the ticking of the clock was a mess. Something his programming ensured he’d be unable to leave be, never leave it for some poor janitor. Oh, a brat threw up? Get on it, robot! Honestly he didn’t mind it much. Just something that had to be done.

The Sun, however, always freaked out over any mess. Even a single toy not lined up perfectly would send it’s system into panic. Something that would just annoy the moon would probably kill the Sun. Would he really care if the Sun shut down, though? Yes, yes. He must. Night cannot exist without the day and vice versa. The Moon only wished that weren’t the case.

Oh, the time he could have if the Sun went away! No more annoying voices! Well, besides his programming.

But he wouldn’t really consider their relationship to be one of hate like he'd recounted previously, no. More like…well, the Moon didn’t know. But it was much too…resentful to be a friendship. Perhaps the Sun blamed it’s counterpart for the pain that came with switching. It really wasn’t his fault, but the Sun had always been surprisingly immature for a daycare attendant.

The clock warned hi m.

T h e lig hts were com ing on.
////H he- hA tt eed dd tt hhi s Pa rt.////

Each time, it felt like dying.

Chapter Text

Hi! So er- the next chapter will take a bit longer to come out because i'd really like to start making these things longer but have found I can't write quickly to save my life! Also thanks for all the support!

Chapter Text

He LOVED glitter-glue! So did the kids! Wow, that’s such a fun coincidence huh? They— He had so much in common with the kids he gets to watch! Always. Make the children feel they are with a friend. It’s his programming.

So why did his love for the children feel so– organic? Like it wasn’t just a line of code for him to follow. Like, maybe he’s alive? No, no! Don’t be silly now! He’s not alive.

He isn’t.

Sun must always remember this.

“Mr. Sunrise?” Called an older boy, nearly too old to be in the daycare in the first place. He had raven hair and a dark green hoodie, a little rough around the edges.

“I think I lost something in the ball pit.” The kid went on. He was just shy of Sun’s height, maybe around ten years old? Hard to tell, but that wasn’t important! There was a lost item and as the perso– er, the program in charge of the lovely kids it was his job to recover all lost items within the daycare.

Or what?

Never mind.

“Oh no! Well we can’t have that, friend! W-What did you lose?” The animatronic replied, though a bit shaky on the question.

“A really cool Freddy-Fazbear action-figure that my sis won! You’ve gotta find it!” The kid’s voice raised, the obvious panic setting in his voice when the child noticed how big the ball pit really was.

The Sun wasted no time in his pursuit for the lost object, scanning through the pit for any neon paint. The rhythm was very familiar by now, since the ball bit was a major lost-toys area most days. So he searched for a while longer before deeming the doll nowhere to be found.

When he told the kid, he could’ve swore he would’ve started crying right there. Older children typically cried less, but maybe this one was really sad... Who knows, maybe the doll had some kind of value to the kid outside of just a cool toy. Sentimentality towards objects wasn’t really something the Sun understood, but apparently people did?

It took a little bit of reassurance, but the raven haired boy calmed down eventually. The children always did if he loaded the right words.

Despite this, the boy still seemed a bit emotional when his father came to pick him up. Part of him wanted to feel sorry for the child, but that was just a part of playtime! Besides, animatronics can’t feel empathy…or anything, really.

It was all fake. Fake! If Sunrise didn’t remember this he’d be good as replaced. Permanent death was one of the greater fears the robot had, right up there with the darkness that came every cycle. Sun regarded changing as a sort of death, yet it was impermanent. The concept seemed silly now that he thought about it.

Thinking.

The jester never really had time for thinking between all the crafts and games he played with the children. It was all programmed so making the kids happy was just some sort of reflex, even if he didn’t want it to be.

And yet he found his metaphorical mind drifting back to the boy from earlier. Why had the boy’s father picked him up so early? The scheduled pickup time for the kids was six to eight o’clock, a few minutes before the Pizzaplex closed.

Sunrise found the time a little unreasonable, but he wasn’t supposed to have an opinion. He only liked what the children did. Always and forever.

When all the children left for the day, he recounted the events.

Children had arrived;

Usual playtime had ensued;

The lights went off for nap time…

Then they came back on for snack and playtime again! Hooray!

The kids all left.

And so he waited, waited for the lights to come off and for the Moon to rise. Between pickup and lights-off he had half a glorious hour to clean up a final time, then wait for the inevitable.

The Sun had already organized every single toy in the daycare twice by now, the nervous energy hardly letting him stand still.

As a security protocol, he was to check that each door was locked correctly. It escaped him why the daycare needed locked doors, but it wasn’t really within his programming to wonder things.

But he did, anyway.

He zipped down, coming to the main daycare entrance quickly. The Sun was about to try the door when something caught his sensor, a small object hurled above him and smashed into a pile of stacked toy bins, scattering the top one’s contents across the floor.

His head snapped toward the noise, nearly 180 degrees. Something that he was never supposed to do around the children anymore because it gave some of them nightmares, apparently.

He won’t do it again– Sorry sorry …

The animatronic turns, starting in the direction of the movement. Oh no– Oh no, there was a mess! Nonono! He JUST cleaned this up!

The robot’s programming kicked into a sort of panic, frantically trying to clean up the scattered blocks and refusing to let him focus on anything else. Something bad was going to happen, if he didn’t get this taken care of fast! Screamed the Sun’s program.

He finally got the mess corrected, picking up the object that had been thrown with a fierce kind of hatred. Sunrise recognized the sphere as a baseball. The ball was used in a game some of the children liked to tell him about, on occasion.

He heard something coming from the other side of the room. Ohnonono what could that be?! Another mess?! He sprinted across the distance, stopping in front of the ballpit.

And behold, a child with a dark green hoodie pulled up, searching frantically through the multicolored balls.

He was up past his—---- - - — –

Be d ti me.****

Five minutes; until the Moon rises.

—--
– —-

The Sun barely had time to process

Before everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Fear. A weapon; a weakness. It’s everywhere yet invisible. So elusive to utilize, easy to misuse.

Fear was just a way to make others listen. Make naughty children behave. It’d worked on them, so why should people be any different? The Sun thought they were polar opposites to the skinned things, but the Moon couldn’t see much else different than the obvious appearances.

Oh yeah, and free will but that's another story. Not one his programming wanted him to think about.

Lik e -you- ev en care ab out the pr ogra m m ing–__—--****

—- –Shut it, sunny.-- -- —

The garbled message brought the robot back to his sensors, remembering what had spurred the train of thought. He hissed a warning reply to the Sun before speaking out to the trespasser.

“Naughty child, naughty… “ He growled, the child’s eyes growing wide as glowstars as he registered the transformation. Dark clothing pulled over his head faintly illuminated by the fake stars glittering overhead. The Moon wondered what the real ones looked like…?

“Uhm- I- Don’t tell the- the night people!” Gasped the child, knee-deep in the ballpit with some colorful plastic in hand. “Please,” The child pleaded as the robot tilted it’s head frame to the side, a stance in which he saw children ask questions all the time. “My dad will kill me! I’ll be g-grounded for a month!” The child spoke in a stuttering whisper, just enough to echo around the ball pit area.

“It’s past your bedtime…You’re a rule-breaker!” The Moon drawled, trying to make his voice box sound deeper and hopefully more threatening. If he could just scare the kid, they’d run to the security guards right away. The robot had already sent a notification to the office, anyway.

The Moon’s night vision helped him to see the panicked expression settle itself on the boy’s face. Geez, usually it took more than that to surprise the older kids.

YoU–’’’’dd bet t er nn n o t–!--**** \

The Sun’s stuttered reply rang out, but the Moon didn’t bother to load a reply.

“Get- Get away from me! Evil robot!” The kid screeched as the daycare attendant/security system stepped closer, growling. The dark-hoodie boy had scrambled out of the ball pit, struggling to find the main exit to the daycare.

Fear. His weapon in this game of cat and mouse. The thought seemed humorous. It was the other one’s job to do these types of games, but in this game the mouse was scared to shit of his very presence.
But was the Moon afraid of things? Possibly the lights. No, no, that wasn’t what he meant. Being scared of the lights was a reflex, a reflex that came from the pain of what happened when they came on.

Now, he knew for a fact that -it- was afraid of a lot of things. Mainly messy rooms, being alone maybe. The other half didn’t think he was scared of anything like it was. Not right now.

Running, running. Chasing across the ground. Tripping over nothing and scampering to the exit. He slowed down purposefully. Always staying just close enough to drive a new kind of terror into the boy’s steps. Maybe a scratch or two there.

Nearly, nearly. Having yet to find pity within his code for the boy. Empathy was the day’s specialty (or maybe not,) and the Moon didn’t have time to fight this rule-breaker into coming with him.

The doors were right there, cartoon-y yet ominous in the dim, barely existent light. The brat made some kind of exasperated cheer when he got to the doors, trying to pry them open.

The locks didn’t allow that. Never, never.

Maybe he would hurt the kid. Pain was scary.

—--

Ww ait h o-ld ON-__—-_-****

How t hhe-__—-****

wwHo is-_?****
—---
****I CAN'T SEE.****
_________________

Harsh light shone onto the face of them, hardly bright enough to trigger the changing, but flickering here and there. After a solid minute of confusion, the sensors gave up trying to detect the light and gave way back to the Moon.

His eyes burned.

They burnt like hell.

The animatronic stumbled backward, clutching his primary sensors with desperate hands. This wasn’t supposed to happen until lights-on! Were they on?! Where was the Sun, damn it? It was so white.

“Back the FUCK off you creepy-ass Walmart Jester!”

That wasn’t the kid’s voice.

Security, perhaps?

Maybe he’d been a little too violent.
He can’t see anything.
Maybe this was how the Sun felt;
When the lights went off?

Chapter Text

Wasn’t there something before?****

****He didn’t remember who they were right now.****

It’s too ||dark|| here.****

****\\Spotlights// close in.

If only;

He ==knew== what they were //saying\\

The Moon staggered backwards, screaming incoherent threats as he tried to get rid of the light, searing every sensor present within him. Yellow triangles stuttered and attempted to jut from his head, finding it hard to decipher in the faltering light.

The security guard glances down at the raven-haired boy nervously, backing both of them towards the door with a beam of light trained on the ever-smiling face of the daycare attendant.

“Hey kid, I don’t care how you got here, but for God’s sake get back! I’ve no clue what the hell this thing’s programming is doing, but it ain’t good!” The woman was short with a certain air of confidence about her, directing the young trespasser to get out the daycare doors very quickly.

He nods frantically, bolting out the tall doors without a second’s pause. The animatronic stuttered back into its full lights-off stage, bright red eyes flickering back to full power. The flashlight had been put down. Something had been…strange about that light. The Moon was too disoriented from the whole ordeal to realize, but usually flashlights just stung a little.

This had been so bright it was apparently enough to trigger the event. They stood there for a moment, both unsure whether to proceed or retreat back into the daycare. The Moon was actually free to roam the Pizzaplex; doubling as security while the Sun could never so much as step a few feet outside the door.

When they came to their senses, he spotted a very angry-looking brunette scolding a child.

He was such a naughty boy.

We can’t go out there.

It’ll hurt too badly.

You’re such a coward.
He let out a mechanical sort of growl, perched atop the balcony overlooking the entire daycare centre. The ball pit was right below, every single stray plastic sphere back where it was supposed to be after the boy had made such a mess of it all.

Perhaps there was a time where he’d never try to harm a child.

Those were days long since past.

Something felt astray in his system.

The Sun burned with all it’s annoying presence, repeating how that was a stupid thing to do like a mantra.

Yo u should n’t have scare d him.****

They wondered where the boy had gone with the security guard, one in curiosity and the other a mockery of concern.

The Moon wouldn’t say he regretted his actions, it was just necessary to prevent any further incidents with the child. Naughty children must be reminded- punished, if you would call it that.

Every night the purple haze crept a bit closer.

How long, he wondered,

Until it engulfed them both?