And Through All of Your Attempts, We Still Love You

Daemonophobia

The crayon in your hand snaps as you press down onto the coloring page top hard. You sigh and place it in the pile of three others. You're at war with yourself. You just want to relax. You want to be happy.

You're using them for your own gain. Abusing their gentle and loving touches. You don't even love them back. They brought you back to life and you're spitting on their love for you.

You can't even argue with that one. Because you're right, you don't love them back. You love their attention and affection, but can you really love your captors? The ones who stole you away and ripped your independence from you?

Thinking that, your thoughts spiral and you're thrown back into the whirlpool of despair. You don't want to use them. They don't deserve that and you definitely don't deserve theirs, or anyone else's, love.

Horrible, pathetic, gross, ungrateful, waste of a human being. Those sentient animatronics love you with all of their soul and you have the gall to use it for your own sick satisfaction and selfish desires.

Snap! Another crayon gets tossed into the pile. You face-plant into the floor, crinkling up your drawing in the process. You have to come clean to them. You groan at the thought. 

Have you been leading them on this whole time? Should you not have started to respond to their touches? It certainly made them happy when you did but you never thought about it at the time.

You groan into the floor. 

"Pfft, Sunbite, why are you face down on the floor?" A breathy chuckle causes you to lift your head up at an awkward angle to see Sun standing in the balcony doorway with his face plate tilted.

You resume your position, answering with a muffled, "I'm wallowing."

You hear shuffling before seeing the iconic red and yellow poofy pants rest on the ground in your peripheral. A hand rests upon your back, soothingly rubbing it up and down. "Are those naughty thoughts back again?"

"Something like that..." you say, not really wanting to divulge into what you were really thinking about. Sun tsks, continuing to rub your back. He leans forward and you feel the paper beneath you get tugged.

"Now don't ruin your beautiful drawing, Sunflower! Come on, lemme see!" You slightly lift up and the paper is removed. You opt to lay with your face sideways now, your nose aching from the strain of being pushed into the ground.

Sun smiles at what you drew before it slowly falls, falls, falls, all the way into a frown. Words. Chicken scratch of all kinds of words litter the page. Highly naughty and degrading words, too. Sun spins the page around to read it all.

"I'll just uh..." he chuckles, folding it up, "put this away for now..." He shoves it into his pocket, making a note to return to that later. Now at his full height, Sun looks down on you with a hand on his hip. "Is there something else you'd like to do?"

The only response he gets is a long, tired groan.

The sunny animatronic lets out a huff. He looks you up and down, noting the grime building up on the soles of your feet. Your hair isn't looking too good either. "How about a shower, hmm?" The boys just know you wouldn't deny a shower!

"I don't wanna shower..." you whine, shocking the jester. Sun bends down, knees splaying outwards, and pats your head.

"My little Sunray...I know you're having difficulties right now, but maybe getting cleaned up is just what you need! You'll feel refreshed and energized, I just know it!" You don't move so he continues. "We'll get you all washed up, get you some new jammies!" He nervously eyes the tattered one in the corner of the room. The one you had since your first night here.