FNAF One Shots - REQUESTS TEMPORARILY CLOSED

☁🥀 (🖤) Talking to the Moon (Moondrop x Child!Reader)

Summary: Moondrop comforts a child afraid of the dark.

Requested by @Lunar1bloodmoon2fan on Quotev

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Moon paced around the Daycare, the bells on his shoes and wrists jingling with his long strides. Everything, and, everyone, had been accounted for. The arts and crafts and stray toys were all put away. Messes were cleaned, the front desk had been properly organized. The Daycare was shrouded in darkness, allowing the glow-in-the-dark stars above on the ceiling and walls to faintly illuminate the hall. The Daycare's theme had been turned low-- once obnoxious and playful, now slow and soothing, in an odd way. Other than that, and the generators' rumbling hums, it was quiet.

Or, it was supposed to be.

Moon knew what he heard. He'd been preparing for his usual rounds about the Naptime area when he heard it-- but it wasn't there. It wasn't among the sleeping bags and foam mats, nor the piles of blankets and pillows he liked to prepare for those children who couldn't sleep by themselves. It wasn't among the beanbag chairs nor the cushions. It was a faint sound, yet somehow nearby, so Moon figured it must have come from somewhere else.

He had been searching for at least ten minutes now. It was aggravating to say the least, but he continued the search. He couldn't just leave it alone whether he wanted to or not-- his programming wouldn't allow him.

All around the Daycare, the strange sound echoed. It echoed in the playpens, by the arts-and-crafts tables. It bounced off the ball-pit and circled around cardboard cutouts. Moon could hear it when he soared above the playground with his cord; he could hear it when he crawled through plastic tunnels and slunk through plastic alleys. The faint sound was everywhere, but nowhere, all at once.

Then it was loud.

Moon was just about to give up, call it a programming error and make a note to see a staff member about it tomorrow, when it caught his eye. A child. A small child-- five? six years old?-- curled up on the floor behind a generator. In the generator's glowing red light, it was difficult to make out the child's features, its (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. The child was sobbing into a plush Moon couldn't quite see, clinging to the generator for dear life. Aggravation melted into realization, melted into pity, and Moon quietly crept near.

The jingle of his bells caught the child's ear and it jumped, bloodshot eyes frantically scanning for danger. Doe-like eyes quickly latched onto the stealthy jester. At once, the child began hyperventilating, attempting to scoot back further into its hiding place, but there was a generator in its way. Moon stopped his advance, throwing his hands up and crouching lower to the ground. "Shhh, it's alright!" he called softly to the child. "I won't hurt you."

The child scrutinized the celestial animatronic, nostrils flaring as it tried to steady its breathing. It studied Moon's hands lifted just above his head, palms empty. He wiggled his slender fingers playfully, hoping it would help the child calm down. The child's eyes flicked down to the plushie clutched in its arms, then too quickly back at Moon, and stared. After a long minute of silence between them, the child finally relaxed.

"May I come over?" Moon asked carefully. The child stared at him suspiciously. Slowly, it nodded. Moon inched closer, keeping his body low to the ground and movements slow so as not to frighten the child again. The child watched him all the while, tensing slightly when he made it to its side. "May I sit?" he asked, and again, the child nodded. Moon settled himself on the floor by the playpen.