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Oct 31, 2024

Heya, @sparkym00n, I'm your Secret Skeleton! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you enjoy Sun/Moon with a reader who loves scary movies and helps them pass out candy to trick-or-treaters!

Scaredy Clown

Sun/Moon & Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: ~3,800 Warnings: N/A

A scream erupts from the TV. On the screen, the victim is savagely stabbed by the killer doll she didn’t see hiding just beneath the table. No matter how often you warn her not to go into the kitchen, she does it anyway.

You’ve seen this a dozen times before—perhaps in part because it is your favorite scary movie. Even after all these years, it never gets old. The practical efforts are still solid, and the story remains buried within you, waiting to emerge every autumn and whisper to revisit the film.

What better time to enjoy it than on Halloween?

Walking out of the kitchen, Sun stops and stares with mild concern tugging down on his smile. The October sunlight is warm while the air is cool, and you’re snuggled deep into a blanket on the couch, looking back at your animatronic roommate. You give him a sheepish grin in return.

“Friend, isn’t it a little early to watch such a dark film?” He holds a few orange sheets of crafting paper in his hands which he neatly stacks until each page is even with the next. “I appreciate that you’re getting into the Halloween spirit but I would like to organize the kids’ materials without hearing someone get murdered at eight o’clock in the morning.”

You glance at your phone and sure enough, it is bright and early on October 31st.

“Sure, Sunny,” you say with a contrite laugh. You click pause on the remote. “I just thought you said you would watch it with me.”

“We did say we would,” he gives pointedly, though you’re not certain if the uncertain flicker of his optics to the screen is just your imagination playing tricks on you so early on the trick-or-treat day. “But after daycare and after we hand out candy to kids.”

Your smile softens as you look over him. He’s even wearing a little costume, with an eyepatch waiting to be drawn down one optic and a little stuffed parrot perched on the white and rough shirt of a pirate.

“Sure, buddy.” You slip off of the couch, stretching your arms high above your head. A soft groan escapes you as you loosen your limbs. You glance back at Sun. “You look good by the way. The kids are going to love you, captain.”

Sun’s white teeth stretch into a full-blown grin. There it is. He hooks one finger, squeezes one eye, and comically growls, “Argh, me matey.”

You snicker. “Save it for the kids.”

“Argh, but me first mate must be in the spirit of the ghoulish gathering so early, and so must I!”

“Stop,” you try to hide your laughter but your shoulders shake. Slipping a hand over your mouth, your smile slips through. “Aren’t you running late?”

Sun straightens, snapping from Foxy the pirate to the daycare owner who needs to get to his job. “Oh, look at the time! You’re right. I’ll see you later. Please do the dishes in the sink and I’ll take care of cleaning up the counters after I get home.”

You reach the kitchen as Sun zigs back to the little box on the counter. It’s filled to the brim with special Halloween stickers, orange and black paper, and scissors with pumpkins on the end of the handles. A few treats are tucked inside, including a bag of sugar-free, one regular, and one little bag of carrots in colorful jack-o-lanterns for every kid and whatever their needs require.

“Will do.” You lean against the entryway. “Have a good day, Sunny.”

“You as well.” He lifts his head as he hauls up his container. “Happy Halloween! Don’t forget your costume.”

You wave him away as he slips out the door into the crisp autumn air. You glance around the kitchen, dirty and in need of attention. Still, the thought of chores does little to dampen your grin of anticipation.

It’s your day off, miraculously in line with the sugar-filled holiday.

Your roommate will return soon enough. Eager for an easy day and to celebrate something with your dear friend, you mentally plot out the rest of your day. A fairy costume awaits you for the events of the evening, but what you’re looking forward to is the night after the lights have been turned off and it’s time to crash on the couch and show Moon your favorite movie. You’ve talked it up so much, you hope they can at least enjoy it with you if only to see why you are the way you are.

Until then, you’ll surprise Sun by getting his chores done as well. You’ve got nothing but time and a track of Halloween songs to help you cruise through the day.

You’ve started counting how many groups of children knock on your door with FazCo Halloween baskets and hide behind masks from the old era of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.

There are many Freddy’s, of course, with little bear ears and some even have a mic to accompany them. Old-style Chica pops up now and then with girls that have their hair in pigtails. Once, Foxy the pirate appears, an older boy who has red hair and a big grin hiding under his mask. A few Roxannes appear while parents happily stand back to let the kids knock on your door or older siblings begrudgingly wait, seeming to wish to be anywhere but here. You even see Bonnie on a dad who slings a plastic red guitar over his back and welcomes back his daughter who’s dressed as Ballora.

You stand beside Sun as the early and youngest kids arrive for candy before the October daylight sinks. Cooing at the costumes, you admire the children. When a kid asks you to guess who they are, you hem and haw in deep thought before the Sun lends you a helpful guess. The kids giggle before snatching a treat and racing back down the front porch.

“They’re being very good tonight,” Sun says as he gently closes the door. With one hand, he fixes the parrot on his shoulder so the yellow peak is facing forward once more, “So many ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s!”

“Yeah,” you say softly, afraid you sound absentminded. You’ve been wondering all evening if anyone would be dressed as the Daycare Attendant back before the mega Pizzaplex burnt down. You almost ask if Sun is disappointed. Instead, you steal a piece of candy and unwrap it.

Sun covers your hand. He tilts his head, one optic pale and milky while the other is covered by a black eyepatch. “You didn’t say trick or treat.”

You stick out your tongue and quickly pop the tootsie roll in your mouth. “Trick.”

“Where are your manners?” he wags his finger at you before a ringing doorbell spares you from his lighthearted rebukes.

The sun drops and bleeds into a darkness thick and befitting for such an enchanting night. Moon pops out, his head spinning in greeting to older kids who stiffen in the slightest before they bust out a grin. Your roommate uses a soft, gentle voice with younger ones when they hesitate to reach up and fish around for candy out of the big orange plastic tub Moon holds.

A few children compliment your fairy costume. You thank them while boldly twirling to show off the translucent mesh of the wings. You even hold a little wand in your hand, a makeshift paint brush with blues and reds and yellows still stained on the bristles, but for any of the curious little ones who ask, you say that you’re a paint fairy. You fix things with paint! They buy it well enough. Sun was the one who helped you pick the purple fabric of your attire and made sure the wings fit on your back without drooping and Moon helped you bring your wand to life with dye.

Again, you count dozens of children wearing Glamrock Freddy masks and one kid with an elaborate Montgomery Gator costume complete with a green tail and a big purple bass hanging off of his shoulder.

They both run off, almost bumping into another trick-or-treater who stands frozen in place. A little girl. You pause, confused. There’s plenty of candy left, and you open your mouth to say so but stop short.

She whimpers at the bottom of the steps. Moon straightens from the hunched position he had used on the group of older kids who are now retreating down the sidewalk, and he fixes his hat slightly. His nightcap is replaced with a black tricorn leather piece, the kind pirates wear.

“I can…” you hold out your hand for the bucket of candy. You flicker your eyes back and forth between the girl and her mother who is now kneeling beside her, whispering encouragement into her ear.

A firm look from your dear friend gives you a reason to stay put.

Moon’s red optics soften as he crouches down, eye level with the child. It amazes you to see how small the lanky animatronic can make himself. In a gentle, low, but clear voice, he asks, “Would you like some candy?”

The girl jumps slightly. She’s dressed in a little princess costume, her dress red and her crown a golden plastic tiara. Her mother nods with a gentle smile.

You stand still, waiting with your hands clasped tightly behind your back. A lurch in your heart wonders how Moon will take it if the girl bursts into tears and runs away. It’s terrifying to watch—not like a horror movie where you’re sitting on the couch, safely tucked back from the events playing on the screen. You’re watching it unfold in real-time. You don’t want to witness it end in tragedy but you can’t avert your eyes as Moon gently holds out the orange container with black pumpkins plastered over it.

“Go on,” the little girl’s mother says.

She takes a brave step up, and up, clinging to her mother’s hand. She stops before Moon, halfway hiding her face against her mother’s leg while gazing at Moon.

“Welcome, princess,” Moon bows his head, rolling a little pirate accent in respect. “You must require the greatest candy that only your royal highness can afford. Please, would you take but one of my humble offerings?”

She giggles, partly stilted as if she’s not sure whether to be afraid anymore.

You keep glancing at him, wondering if this is alright. Does it hurt to see children afraid? Even for a moment? You can’t tell. Moon is so difficult to read.

“Are you a good clown or a bad clown?” the little girl finally asks in a tiny voice. Her big eyes stare up at him with earnest innocence.

“I’m a good one! I swear upon my heart, princess.” He dramatically lays his hand over his white, billowy shirt. “See?”

She looks back once more to her mother before she bravely steps forward. Moon tips the bowl forward so she might choose. She quickly plucks one wrapped sweet and ducks back to her mother.

“Happy Halloween,” Moon says gently.

The girl flashes a small smile, and the fear in her eyes lessens before she hurries away with her mother.

Moon straightens. Though he grins silver teeth in a never-ending smile, you can’t see if he’s upset.

Quietly, you touch Moon’s arm. His shoulder twitches but he doesn’t look at you.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly. “I can hand out the candy next time if you prefer.”

“It’s nothing new.” Moon’s faceplate swivels back to you now. His red optics burn low, settling over you with a dusting of crimson. “Kids are afraid of me.”

“Not all of them,” you say quickly. You then bite your bottom lip. Are you making things worse or better?

“No. Not all of them.” Moon looks down at the candy bowl and flicks through a few before he finds a little orange-wrapped peanut butter cup. He holds it out to you. “Even at the Pizzaplex, sometimes kids would cry when it was naptime.”

“I’m sorry, Moon.” You hold his gaze, then glance down to the candy. You try to take it but he slips it back just before your fingers can pinch it. You shoot him a disgruntled look.

He grins wildly, his hat tilting with the roll of his head.

“You didn’t say trick-or-treat,” he laughs, mischievous and deep.

You stick your tongue out.

“No treats for naughty children.” Moon tucks the peanut butter cup away behind his back. “You can have it when you ask politely.”

“First off, not a kid, second off, I think you’re avoiding the subject.”

“Not avoiding,” he sing-songs in his gravelly voice, “just changing it.”

He pauses. You follow his gaze out to the street where you see two little children skipping between their parents. One wears a mask with Sun’s face on it, and the other wears Moon’s. You almost fall while staring.

Oh. That’s sweet.

You hope.

Moon chuckles once and gently closes the door in anticipation of another child coming down the walkway. You take it as a good sign.

Fine. You’ll bite. You face Moon, and with exaggerated reluctance, say “Trick-or-treat. Please.”

He chuckles before tossing the peanut butter cup to you. You catch it and quickly rip it open, devouring it before the doorbell rings—another round of trick-or-treaters.

“Happy Halloween,” he rasps before opening the door.

You check the front porch one last time. The street lies empty and you find a few neighbors flicking off their lights and drawing down curtains. No more kids run up and down the sidewalk. Jack-o-lanterns are slowly eating up the wick and leaving nothing but a puddle of wax in the gourds of their mouths. A cold wind blows through, pushing up leaves and a few unfortunate candy wrappers.

“That should be it.” You flick the front lights off and lock the door with a heavy click. You turn on your heels and face Moon, beaming wide as you shake your shoulders once to wiggle your fairy wings in excitement. “Ready for our movie?”

His smile is unmoving. Red eyes, piercing the slight low light of the entryway give you pause before he dips his head. Slowly, he removes the pirate patch eye.

“Yes,” he rasps.

You whoop once in glee before rushing into the kitchen to start popcorn. The quiet echo of Moon’s laughter sounds behind you, but it stops short, off-kilter.

A few minutes later, you’re on the couch with a soft blanket and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. Moon crosses his legs beside you, having lost most of his pirate costume. The little parrot on his shoulder remains. It looks funny, perched there in a frozen state of fake feathers and black beady eyes. Moon moves it slightly and makes a squawk to startle you just as the film opens up with the title screen.

You swat at his metallic hands then rethink it and toss your blanket over his head. That does the trick.

Then the first scene begins with the opening scene panning upon an older house.

“Pay attention, you’re going to miss it!” you harshly whisper, straightening to attention.

Moon snickers as he drags the blanket down his face. His fingers curl over the edge.

“Too scary, too scary!” he mockingly wails before you toss popcorn at him. It bounces off the billowy white shirt of his half-put-together costume. He arches his brow at you.

“You said you would watch it with me,” your tone inches into a whine. This is supposed to be fun.

Moon pats your head before you again, shove his arm away.

“We did,” Moon relents with a dramatic sigh. “Why a movie about a possessed doll?”

“Because possessed killer dolls are scary. Especially when they’re chasing you.” You pop a handful of your buttery snack into your mouth. “Shush. This is where he gets—just watch!”

Moon reclines into the couch and finally holds still. His nightcap, replacing his pirate hat, dangles over the end of his shoulder. Curiously, you glance at him between scenes. He’s unmoving. A few jumpscares happen, and while they used to get you the first few times you watched it, not anymore. Strangely, Moon doesn’t jump either. His fists, however, clenched tight.

The movie plays on, and you get lost in it once more.

By the time the final girl makes it out alive and the evil killer is defeated, you’re sinking low into the cushions and letting loose a yawn.

“So?” You yawn again. Turning to Moon, you smirk. “What did you think?”

Moon stares straight ahead at the screen. The credits roll and you realize he was clutching fistfuls of his starry pants when he releases the fabric. The deep blue and yellow star print is crumpled.

“Scary,” he says deadpan. “How are you going to sleep tonight?”

“Just fine,” you laugh. “It’s pretty freaky, isn’t it?”

He offers a nonchalant hum. You get to your feet, putting the popcorn bowl aside. You’ll clean it up with the rest of the Halloween decorations in the morning.

“Come on, buddy. Do you need to charge?” you ask while stretching your arms above your head. You had hoped for a little more comment about one of your favorite movies, but the day has worn away your energy and you’re more than ready to hit the hay. You’ll get more of his thoughts about it tomorrow.

“No. We’re fine until tomorrow evening,” he answers.

Good, then he’s free to…

You feel a shadow close beside you. Glancing back, you discover Moon looming at your shoulder. You stare at him.

“Do you need something?” you ask, brow crinkling.

He says nothing. Which is not unusual for Moon. He’ll avoid your questions when he doesn’t feel like answering or just to annoy you. It’s hard to tell. You roll your eyes and shrug.

“I’m going to bed then.” You take a step away.

No answer. Moon keeps in time with you, still hovering well within reach but never actually brushing against you.

You look at him again briefly as you shuffle down the hall that leads to the bathroom and your two bedrooms. Moon doesn’t necessarily need to sleep, but they’ve told you in the past that it can relieve some pressure to ‘doze’ for an hour or two.

You brush your teeth while Moon funnily stands in the doorway, like a guard dog waiting for a threat to approach. Finished with your nightly routine, you slip to your bedroom where Moon continues to hover. You finally stop and face him completely.

“What is it?”

He stares at you, his fingers curling up and down.

“Come on, tell me.” You put a hand on your hip. “What is it that you tell your daycare kids? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong?”

A scowl crosses his faceplate. He starts picking at his pirate shirt, staring down at the fluff fabric bunched on the chest while you stand there. You can wait all night. You’ve never seen him so agitated before.

Was it that little girl earlier?

Slowly, Moon lifts his head. His nightcap bell falls from his shoulder and down his back with a soft jingle.

“Can we stay with you tonight?” he asks in a quiet voice.

You blink.

Sun’s expression from this morning returns to the front of your mind. The uncertain glance he spared the TV screen despite reassuring you they are planning on watching the movie with you.

“Are you…?” You stop, eyes wide.

“No,” Moon growls then shakes his head, clutching at his hat in a mimic of someone pulling at the roots of their hair in utter frustration. “Forget it.”

“No, no, it’s alright.” You touch his arm and he stops, halfway in the hall and half in your bedroom. “My bed’s a little small but we can both fit.”

He seems to teeter, almost swaying as if to bolt away and never look back, but he slowly turns to face you.

“Will you be comfortable with us that close?”

You laugh gently. “Buddy, it’s no big deal. Come on. What are roommates for, am I right?”

He stares at you. You crack a big smile to chip through his rigidness. The joke falling a little flat aside, Moon begrudgingly allows you to tug him towards your bed. You don’t flip the light on for his sake, and instead quickly throw on pajama bottoms with his back turned to you.

“We didn’t have to watch the movie, you know.” You finish fixing the waistband of your pants on your hips. “It wouldn’t have hurt my feelings. We could have watched something else.”

“It’s your favorite,” he says so simply, it gives you pause. You glance over your bed to where he stands, clutching a fistful of your pillow in his hand. “We wanted to experience it with you.”

You sigh gently. A gentle warmth spills into you, and you wonder how you found such a friend.

“Thanks. Next time, we’ll do something that you like, okay?”

“Sure.”

Moon pulls the blankets back, and at the silent invitation, you slip into bed. Moon carefully settles down beside you on top of the covers. He curls himself carefully around you, giving you space to toss and turn on the mattress until your head lies gently on your pillow. He doesn’t touch one inch of you despite so little space. Is he uncomfortable? When you lift your eyes to find him in the dark, the red glow startles you so badly that you almost bite your tongue.

“Are you going to fall off the bed?” you ask, bewildered.

“No.” He grabs the fake parrot on his shoulder and takes it off. Without looking, he sets it down on your nightstand.

“Okay.” You pause, chewing on your lip. “Are you scared?”

“Stop.” A hand covers your face as if forcibly closing your eyelids will make the question go away. “Sleep.”

“Just—can you tell me you’re okay, at least?” you ask, muffled underneath his silicon palm. “I don’t want my friends to be terrified because we did something that I like.”

The quiet settles as heavy as the night. For a long time, you don’t move, caught under his hand and held still by the urge to not shake the bed unnecessarily by squirming under the covers.

“We’re fine,” Moon says softly. “Now.”

You breathe a gentle breath of relief.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me. Goodnight, Moon.” You gently slide his hand off your face and give him a smile in the dark. He can see it, can’t he? “Sweet dreams.”

He doesn’t dream, but you want to say it all the same.

“Sweet dreams,” he murmurs as you finally drift off into the darkness.

#DCABeeTeamH24 #scaredy clown #sparkym00n #happy halloween #naff writing

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