FNAF One Shots - REQUESTS TEMPORARILY CLOSED

🥀🥀 Stargazing (Moon)

Summary: Moon used to be popular just like Sun, but as his programming began to glitch out, he became the "scary" animatronic the children wanted to avoid. Finally, one night the pain gets to be a bit too much.

Note - I've had some requests for an angsty Moon story, so *hands out tissues to anyone who might need them* ;-; . There will be a fluff one-shot after this; apparently, I was just in the mood to write something sad instead lol

Take the ending however you want, it could go one of two ways. Depends on how sad you want to be 😆🥲

~*~*~

Moon sighed, staring out across the dark Daycare. For so late at night, he'd never felt more awake-- painfully aware that he was alive. He used to thrive in the darkness, stalking the halls of the Pizzaplex and visiting his few friends, but now... Now it just hurt. The silence was like knives grating against his non-existent ears, the darkness felt tense, like it was expecting something to happen, if he would just get out of the way first. Like ink, it licked at his arms, his body, his clothes, tugging at him as if to tug him back down into the tarry abyss where he belonged. 

There was nothing wrong with his programming, and yet the ringing he could hear was driving him insane. Anger bubbled up inside him, frustrated at the persistent noise, then the anger began to melt. He was just so frustrated-- frustrated that there was no other sound in the Daycare (granted he'd turned that blasted overhead radio off himself, just to get the irritating sound out of his head earlier). 

Frustrated that all he could hear was the ringing, frustrated that all he could feel was the tightness in his chest that only grew tighter and tighter as he realized, this was all he had. This was all he had, all night, every night. This was all that was pardoned to him, nothing but the darkness and the silence, and the ringing-- and there was nothing he could do.

There was too much going on, yet not enough-- and the tightening only kept getting tighter as the hopelessness of his position dragged him further down. Ah-- there was the anger again, taking turns with the frustration like the bubbles of boiling water rising and falling, crashing against each other and building up, only to die down again as one was replaced with the other. His head felt full and heavy, but no matter how he cradled his head, the aching refused to stop. Oily tears welled up in his eye sockets.

It took him a moment to notice them, and another to register, but as soon as it clicked in his head, he quickly brushed the tears away with his fist, letting out a pained growl as he angrily threw his arm to the side. The bells on his wrists jingled angrily as his fist collided with the wall behind him. He could hardly care for the dent he'd left, and though he stared at it absent-mindedly as he stood-- when had he fallen to his knees?-- he couldn't help but feel like he was looking at himself. Part of a whole, a small piece of a much bigger picture, cracked and broken. He was nothing more than a fractured dent in someone else's finger painting, flaking and wearing off, and no one was the wiser. For an animatronic with such big presence, he felt so small.

Hopeless.

He was hopeless. His life, his very purpose--! Everything was hopeless. Pointless. What purpose was there, for someone with such high expectations weighed on him-- until he was suddenly thrown away, useless. He had worked so hard-- so hard, for so long! And yet-- he didn't feel like he had done anything. They said he was 'too much', that he was 'overdoing it'-- but what had he done? All he ever wanted was to care for the kids, like he was supposed to. That was all he ever did.