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luminitewrites · 1 year

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Domesticity

Heard there was talk about Eclipse having a working mouth and thought, yeah, I'll jump on that bandwagon.

This is based on this ask, and I am gleefully leaning into that "domestic" part here. Eclipse can be a little tamed, as a treat. No rhyme or reason to this drabble, but it's set in a very impossible AU of @naffeclipse's Sleuth Jesters wherein somehow, the vigilante chooses to join the mob boss, and they enter a relationship.

Rating: T Word Count: ~4K Content Warnings: Nudity, bruises, biting, heavy makeouts, and suggestive themes.

The suggestive content does toe the line here, but I believe I've kept it safe enough that the reader can interpret it to their preference. If anyone feels that this needs additional warnings, feel free to let me know.

Enjoy!

~~~

Quiet days are uncommon for you. There is always something to do, something—or someone—that needs attention, and the hours have a tendency to just slip by. Before you know it, the day has ended and the night has fallen and there’s little free time to do much of anything for yourself.

But when you wake up one morning to the warm sunlight streaming across the bed, you stretch underneath its warmth and the silk sheets resting over you like a sleepy cat soaking in the rays. Opening your eyes seems too arduous of a task, so you opt to keep them closed against the orange glow shining through your eyelids and try to think of what tasks await you today. Your thoughts move sluggishly, slipping through your fingers like sand. You might doze off once or twice in the middle of trying to catch a single coherent thought.

When you do start to awaken, it’s to an idle sensation rubbing against your knuckles. Explorative and curious. You crack open your eyes just a bit against the brilliant sunshine and find that your left hand has been taken captive by a much larger, metal one. Your palm is loosely pressed against the other’s, and a thumb is smoothly gliding over your fingers. It lingers mainly on your ring finger, sweeping up and down the rest, then returning before repeating the cycle.

How abnormally gentle. Eclipse is rarely like this, unless you are asleep, and even then, you sometimes wake in the morning to fresh bruises painted somewhere on your skin. This softer side of him is one that you fail to see often, but you hoard it like a treasure. You’re the only person he trusts to be with like this.

So either he’s in a good mood, or he’s quietly contemplating murder. Of course, the latter also has the possibility of putting him in a good mood, so it’s hard to guess what he’s thinking in these special moments.

You consider testing the waters and seeing just how far you can push your luck today. Granted, you do that every day regardless, but it’s become a bit of a game for you, and you do enjoy seeing him heated. You always end up paying for it later in some way or other, but that’s just part of the game, and he hasn’t killed you for it—yet.

A smile creases your lips, but before you can put your cute wit to good use, his rumbling voice comes from behind you.

“Your hand is looking a little bare,” he says.

His chest is flush at your back, both his and your shirts lost to the floor last night—though your silk pajama bottoms snag against the fabric of his pants when you shift your legs—so you can feel the sonorous velvet of his words like they are vibrating against your spine. You still haven’t quite pinpointed where his voicebox is, but you’re certain it’s located in his chassis because he has no issue listening to himself talk even during moments when your mouth is sealed atop his. One of these days, you’re going to figure out how you can snatch his voice even if it’s just for a second. Anything to make him “still his tongue,” or whatever it is he says when he manages to do the same to you.

You frown in confusion. “I always take off any jewelry before bed. And as much as I appreciate the offer, I really don’t think I have enough room on my fingers to fit any more gold rings.”

“You could make space for one more,” he murmurs, and his faceplate nudges your skull. He taps your ring finger. “Right here.”

Muddied confusion causes you to stare at the appendage, bewildered.

And then it hits you.

Oh. Oh, that’s a very sudden thing to yank you out of your morning sleepiness. Your heart is suddenly in your throat, going a mile a minute.

You don’t like surprises too much. They tend to lead to nasty consequences and seldom have any good benefits. It’s much preferable to know what’s coming your way so you can brace yourself and prepare for it. You like being two steps ahead and spinning things in your favor.

But this time, you’re not sure. You hadn’t seen this coming at all, and your brain shuts down in an instant. He can’t be serious… can he? That seems like such a human custom he wouldn’t care about at all. You would have never thought he’d be the type to even consider it, and the bombshell sets you in a total state of shock.

The problem is you don’t even know if it’s the welcome kind or not. You’re completely stunned.

Eclipse didn’t ask a question, but letting the silence seep in feels like a denial on your end, which isn’t the impression you want to give off. Not initially, that is. You’re certain he’s not even really intending to ask for your approval at all, more so just stating a fact, informing you of his plans. But just to be sure of what he’s suggesting, you ignore the rush of blood in your ears and opt for a more lighthearted route.

“Is this your way of proposing?”

Your hand is released, but it’s fast exchanged for a solid clutch of your sides. Eclipse calmly lifts and places you on top of him so that you are now chest to chest, the blankets falling down your back and exposing your skin to the slightly chilled air.

If it wasn’t before, your face is definitely warm now.

“I don’t need to propose,” he says matter-of-factly. “You’re already mine, pet.”

The familiar statement helps to instill a bit more levelheadedness. In no way are you past your rattled-to-the-soul mindset, but Eclipse’s ceaseless possessiveness is a landmark you can always count on finding. It helps to ground you, reassure your galloping pulse. Though it’s something you once ran from, you know now you can always trust his desire. Nothing will ever take that from him, for better or worse.

You make a contemplative noise in your throat. One of your fingers finds the shallow crevice in the middle of his chassis where metal parts from metal. You follow the line slowly up, and regardless of how you’re sure he can tell just how on edge you are, you smile at the dark anticipation that crosses Eclipse’s faceplate. His hands pull your skin taut as they dig into your waist, and you can feel the fresh bruises layering on top of the recently healed ones.

“That doesn’t have quite the nicest ring to it,” you say after a quiet moment of consideration, smiling to yourself at the unintentional pun.

Unfortunately, your offhand comment isn’t received well.

“What doesn’t?” Eclipse’s tone stays mild, but you feel the warning in the escalating strength of his grasp.

“Easy, angel eyes, I’m just thinking out loud,” you attempt to teasingly soothe, but you utter a soft gasp when the barest hint of claws threatens to break skin.

“Then why don’t you share with me what that thought is instead of dodging the question?” he drawls. His teeth could be mistaken for daggers in this light.

Ignoring the flaming pain that could crush your bones, you release a heavy sigh, wavering at the end as Eclipse doesn’t let go but at least stops increasing the pressure. One of these days, he’s going to snap your pelvis, and then you’ll see who’s really sorry.

It will probably be you, but you’d like to think it would at least throw a temporary wrench in Eclipse’s plans to treat your body like a canvas to bruise.

“I was talking about you calling me ‘pet,’ not you proposing,” you tut and swat his shoulder. The hit doesn’t hurt him in the slightest, but it’s the action that matters. You ignore his bemused grin as you discretely shake the pain out of your knuckles for doing that.

Finally, your waist is released from the vice clasping it, and his hands slip down to your thighs instead. He cups them and tugs them wider, and you move to straddle him instead, reading his want to have you as close as possible in a heartbeat. You keep your upper half reclined, however, and fold an arm under your chin as you continue to trace the divots of his body. A hissing exhale from underneath you lets you know he’s pleased. Crisis averted.

“What’s wrong with that term of endearment, pet?”

“Oh, nothing,” you innocently say in a way that isn’t innocent at all. You snicker at the narrowed, yellow gaze that waits impatiently for an explanation. There is satisfaction in knowing that Eclipse would put up with such behavior from no one else, and even still, he only just tolerates it from you. Walking that thin line has become a favorite pastime of yours, and you know that he knows it too.

His hands drag up over the back of your thighs, sharp claws grazing your thinly clad skin as the silk bottoms do little to hinder the feeling, which makes you erupt in goosebumps. He then takes his time drawing over the bruises he just left on your waist, watching as you fail to suppress a shudder, and were it not for the pillows he’s lying against, you’re certain his numerous sun rays would be whirling fast. As it is, Eclipse keeps his touch light, a rarity to your body that is so accustomed to fierce possessiveness. The thin, sweeping lines he runs over your spine and the back of your ribs have you swallowing thickly and trying to keep your breathing normal.

The distracting touch comes to a stop just under your shoulder blades. The mob boss considers your reaction and chuckles.

“Nothing?” he echoes, smarmy. “Are you sure about that?”

Unhappy about how easily he’s learned to fluster you, you pout and flick one of his rays. The dull ting beckons you to play with it instead, and you tap tap tap your nails atop the surface. The mental image of a woodpecker hammering away gives you dry amusement.

Eclipse endures it for all of three seconds before reaching up and putting a stop to your playfulness. Your affront is countered by his layered annoyance. Stubbornness can take you only so far, and as he begins to exert force in his grip, you try to outlast him by hiding the pain behind a scowl. With pursed lips, you hold your ground for an embarrassingly short span of time before you wince, your bones begging for reprieve.

Your loss means his victory, even over something so trivial, and he slackens his hold but doesn’t let go. Eclipse says your name. The edge of a growl ripples through it.

At his prodding, you sigh exasperatedly and relent. “No. I just have a better endearment in mind than you referring to me as your pet.”

Yellow flirts with darkness as black as the night. “And what would that be?”

“Well,” you begin, the word curling your tongue as you draw it out, “I just think that it would be nicer if you made it a little more official. Classy. Something refined like maybe ‘my partner’ or ‘my spouse’ or…”

You stop. Eclipse is silent. You can’t quite figure out what he’s thinking, and his expression is one you’re unfamiliar with. But you’re certain you’ve never seen his pupils so large before. Round to the point that they hardly even look like rings anymore. You don’t know what to make of it, and uncertainty halts your voice.

That seems to be the opposite of what he wants though. His whole body is still, but his eyes pierce you with a deep emotion, and you hesitantly lean closer.

“Or?” he prompts, just a whisper.

You study him. Something traps you in the moment that’s not directly caused by his hands on you. It comes from somewhere in your chest, a swell of a feeling close to intoxicating but with all the presence of being sober. You’re just as frozen as he is, and your heart beats madly like you’re in a race. You couldn’t look away from him if you wanted to.

It’s the very last thing you want.

As someone who seldom holds back their words, you have an unusual difficulty finding your voice again. And even when you do reunite with it, it comes out quiet, words just as whisper-soft as his had been.

“Or what about… ‘my lover?’”

You say it so faintly, you almost don’t hear it yourself. Even suggesting it sounds silly to your own ears, regardless of whether it had been sincere. Though you’re not positive you’re just teasing anymore. Deflection has always come naturally to you. You rely on it so much, it’s become difficult to tell when you mean what you say.

Your brow furrows, and a low-grade horror trickles in. What should have been a joke feels closer to honesty than you’d meant. And you hadn’t even known you’d felt that way. Not until you’d suggested it.

Mortified doesn’t even aptly define what’s possessing you. Your eyes become saucers, and Eclipse, to your shock, looks just as gobsmacked as you.

Thoughts of bolting, tearing out of the room like the devil himself is on your heels, briefly flit through the possibilities hurtling in your head. But your limbs are like chunks of ice, and you cannot twitch a single muscle as Eclipse moves first. He lifts a hand, pausing for a millisecond before he continues. So gently you don’t dare breathe, he brushes aside a strand of hair. It’s tucked securely behind your ear, and then that hand curves down it, circling back to your cheek. His broad palm covers it and then some, and his thumb glides across your parted lips.

Through all of this, he doesn’t look away. His eyes are for you only, so bright that they rival the morning sun. With his thumb against your mouth, he can undoubtedly feel your quick breaths brushing it. Like you could even hope to hide your unsteady heartbeat from him anyways. He could probably tell just from looking at you.

His silence offers nothing. You don’t know what to do, if you should say something to fill it. Your words are already out there, and no wishing you’d choked them back down will change what’s been said. Maybe that’s for the best.

Swallowing around the knot in your throat, you force out a deeper breath. If he won’t say something, you’ll just do damage control and ask for forgiveness later.

“Eclipse—”

“Those all have something in common,” he abruptly says, quelling whatever attempt to resolve this you were going to make. Your next inhale hitches, and his eyes briefly fall lower.

You wait with bated breath.

His thumb hasn’t stopped tracing your lips, and you realize that’s where his gaze has drifted. You resist the very strong, sudden urge to wet them.

His other hand still has your own. Almost absentmindedly, he squeezes, but it’s tender. A quick pulse. He can probably feel your heartbeat in your fingertips too.

You want to ask what he means, but speech is becoming progressively harder the longer this unexplained feeling builds. Another shiver presses you further into him. The one thing keeping you afloat is seeing just how affected Eclipse is as well.

Maybe it’s because you say nothing or he was going to tell you anyways. But when he looks back at you once more, the glimmer of voracious hunger is one you spot straight away. His fingers squeeze the back of your scalp and urge you to come so close that your lips hover over his wide grin.

“They all say that you are mine,” he breathes.

He crushes you to his mouth, and you tip right into it. All air is sucked out of your chest, lost as he kisses you with the desperation of one drowning, needing to consume you whole. A muted noise crawls from your throat, verging on something humiliating, and it’s responded to by a vicious snarl from him.

Your world careens to the side as you’re suddenly thrown off him, landing on your back on the bed, and he’s right there above you, chasing your lips again as he braces himself over your prone body. You manage a gasp before you’re lost to the overwhelming ardor and the adulation in his wandering hands. They keep you close and ignite a potent fire that will set you ablaze the longer you indulge in his dark desire.

Eclipse sweeps one hand under your bare back, arching you into him while he pins you down. His other slides into your hair, scratching deliciously along your scalp, and your hair is wound tightly around his fingers. With one rough yank, your head is pulled back. A breathless gasp tumbles out, chased swiftly by his teeth finding your exposed neck.

In a move you are still not at all used to and likely never will be if he has any say in it, Eclipse parts his sharp grin and brushes his teeth against your skin. With cautious, deliberate force, he bites the sensitive juncture between your neck and collarbone. The careful shock of pain brings forth a heady groan from deep in your chest, and Eclipse clearly relishes it, based on the guttural sound he buries in your throat in return. Before you can have a second to recover, the hot compress of his own tongue laves over the bite mark he just left, and your fists twist in the sheets beneath you.

You wonder if the rest of your day is about to be stolen—a fact you won’t particularly complain about anytime soon—but even though the mob boss shifts a little down to lay a kiss in the middle of your chest, he doesn’t take it further than that. The resonance of husky laughter reaches all the way to your sternum and around your rib cage. When he lifts his faceplate to look at your flushed face, he doesn’t bother to keep his lower sun rays from scraping your skin, and they poke into you in stinging pinpricks. He relaxes the tension on your hair and brings the hand at your back to your throat and the freshly burning mark.

Your chest is as hot as your cheeks and straining with every uneven breath. Eclipse’s optics remind you of firelight and pools of liquid gold with a center of onyx in each. They watch you as if he is committing to memory every little twitch, every shuddering reaction while he waits for you to find air. You have your games you like to play with him. This is his. Winding you up and then letting you spin out of control until he repeats the process, again and again.

Safe to say he’s cleared your schedule until late afternoon, at the bare minimum.

At the rumble of another low chuckle, you quizzically lift a brow, panting. “What?”

Eclipse embodies the cat that caught the canary. In a somewhat courteous act, he lifts his head just enough so that his rays are no longer digging into your skin, and they immediately spin in a blurred display of his satisfaction. You’re sure he’d be purring now if he could.

“Oh, nothing,” he says, throwing your own mocking words from before back at you.

You roll your eyes, and he snickers again. The hand in your hair begins to knead your scalp, and you try to hold very still to make sure he doesn’t stop. He has an annoying habit of dangling anything you like just out of reach the moment you try to lean into it. But even still, you bend one of your legs and knock your knee against his side.

“I’ve got no problem throwing you out of my bed,” you threaten menacingly.

Your attempts to intimidate don’t faze him even the smallest amount.

“Our bed,” he haughtily corrects, and his hand at your throat curls on the edge of too tight. Waiting for your response, he pauses to see if you’ll fire back another snarky remark.

You blow out a puff of air, nose wrinkling to show him just what you think, but you stay quiet. The hand on your throat loosens once more.

Chuffed, he continues. “I suppose I had better find a suitable ring to make sure everyone knows that you are mine.”

You can’t resist a bark of laughter. “Oh, angel eyes, if you think that’s what’s going to clue everyone in at this point, then you have not been doing a good enough job lately.”

Your smirk grows at his irked growl. Since you’re in a good mood, though, you decide to not tug on that specific string too much. Instead, you reach up and begin to draw light circles around the back of his hand. Dark circles dip downward.

Feeling cheeky, you flash your teeth at him. “But does this mean I get to pick out a wedding band for you? All’s fair in love and war.”

Eclipse snorts. “Absolutely not. I know exactly how your devious mind works, and I refuse to be tied to some fake costume jewelry just because it amuses you.”

You tsk and blow a raspberry. Faster than you can blink, he ensnares the tip of your tongue in a biting pinch between his claws. Your exaggerated exclamation of protest goes ignored.

“However, I’m not opposed to finding something that will suit both our tastes. You may have some input, but know that I will veto anything that is less than fitting of my standards.”

He releases your tongue, and you pull the smarting appendage back into the safety of your mouth. You grimace.

“How very romantic of you.”

“Much more than you have been, I’m sure,” he states. Your confusion must show because he adds, “You’ve made quite the case for what you’d like to be called, sweetheart. And I believe I’m more than accommodating to your requests. So what shall I have you call me?”

Your eyes brighten. The question more than excites you, and a curious hum fills the air as you contemplate it. You haven’t really called Eclipse anything other than his name and the term of endearment you chose for him forever ago. That’s not counting the less than savory names you’ve also called him in the past, of course.

You smile fully.

“I’ve got one or two possibilities in mind, but I don’t think you’d agree with my frankly brilliant ideas. And you were just going on about how you like the ones I suggested because they’ll let others know I’m yours. So with that in mind, how about we go with…”

Your hand comes to rest against his chest, palm flat. Underneath, you imagine you can feel the steady thrum of the celestial wire. That fluttering sensation in your chest almost mirrors it, as do the butterflies in your stomach. You think you understand what that feeling is now.

Calmly, you stare up at him. “My husband.”

This time, you know you don’t imagine the vibrations under your palm that quicken.

Eclipse draws in closer, so close your lips graze his mouth and almost catch on the pointed edges of his teeth. His eyes bore into you.

“I hope you know what you’ve signed yourself up for, sweetheart,” he breathes, and you do the same.

Your wrists are suddenly seized and yanked over your head, pinned together in one claw-like grip that presses them into the mattress. Just like that, your heart is threatening to pound out of your chest once more. Anticipation coils low in your stomach, and your body shivers.

“You might need to remind me every so often,” you say, cheeks hurting from how wide you grin. “Just to make sure that I really get it.”

“I’ll start right now,” he promises and curtly demands another kiss that you sink into.

True to his word, Eclipse takes his time making sure you don’t forget that you are his and that till death do you part, he will be yours as well.

#eclipse x reader #cw suggestive #daycare attendant x reader #sleuth jesters au #detective au #sleuth jesters fanfic #fnaf sb #writing tag #this is the spiciest i'll ever get here

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luminitewrites · 1 year

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Roll the Die

Back at it again with another short ficlet 😎

Sometime ago, I wrote my take on that alternate universe/ending of @naffeclipse's Sleuth Jesters fic Trouble, wherein Moon and Sun bring the vigilante to Eclipse to save their life. I have absolutely no clue where that drabble is, but it's somewhere in Tumblr's archive. This is a sequel to that, set about less than a week after those events.

Turns out recovery under a mob boss' care isn't all it's cracked up to be :)

Rating: T Word Count: ~8K Content Warnings: Possessive behavior, excessive arguing, unhealthy relationships, and drugging

Enjoy! 🔔🎀🔔

~~~

Despite his kindling fury, Eclipse’s steps are silent as he prowls down the hall. No sense in giving you the courtesy of knowing his whereabouts when you failed to do the same for him. His pace is swift but measured as he quickly crosses the expanse of his hideout to the French doors leading outside to the terrace—the place where his underlings had so kindly escorted you and Moon.

It might be time to reassess who remains on his payroll. Especially when he remembers giving very precise, strict instructions to not let the vigilante out of their room under any circumstances. His fists creak as metal grinds together, and he imagines doing much the same to the next person who dares defy him. And knowing what he’s about to head into, that might just not bode well for you.

As soon as he reaches the terrace doors, he doesn’t give his men guarding the entrance time to open it. He shoves the doors open with an angry flourish, and to his simultaneous distaste and satisfaction, he immediately finds both you and his brother just ahead, startled by the loud burst. One of his hires scrambles to recover, beginning with a shaky “Sir—,” but Eclipse is too busy striding forward to care to wait. Not when you’re finally back in his sights.

To add insult to injury, you don’t even bother to turn around to face him as he approaches. Eclipse’s rage boils hotly within. At least Moon has the smarts to straighten in a flash, optics darkening dangerously at the incoming threat. Good. Maybe he can teach you some manners while he’s at it.

You, in complete contrast to Moon, are entirely fixated on the chessboard between you and him. A luxurious blanket is tucked around you, sliding down your bare arms, pooling at your feet, and revealing the crimson silk undershirt you’ve been given as sleepwear. You look unbelievably small curled up in your chair. You look fragile and every bit of the tiny form that just barely cheated death.

You look like you should be inside, in bed where Eclipse had ordered you to stay.

The late morning sun shines overhead and casts a glaring shadow over you as Eclipse comes to a halt right above your hunched over body. His eyes trace every inch of your outline, intently searching for the slightest hint in a decrease of health.

Infuriatingly, you still do not look at him. Moon’s hands are clutched tight around the arms of his chair, ready to push to his feet in a blink. With a long, aggravating hum, you push a white pawn across the chessboard. Then you click your tongue and sigh.

“Angel eyes, can you move a bit to the left? You’re blocking the sun.”

Eclipse summons every ounce of patience he has left. You have already depleted the vast majority of it, and still, you do your best to bleed him dry. Continue pressing your luck, and he will show you just how he treats everyone else who tests him.

“Eclipse,” Moon says, low, warning.

The mob boss doesn’t give his brother a single iota of attention. No, this is an issue that needs to be resolved. Right now.

Leaning down, he plants one firm hand on the back of your chair and the other on the armrest. He catches you stalling for a moment, uncertainty beginning to fester in that little mind of yours. You stop playing with one of the black chess pieces you’d nabbed and chance a small look his way.

Eclipse’s grin shears his face roughly, not at all amused. His eyes smolder, and you have some presence of the situation to lean back just a touch. He claims the fraction of space the second you offer it and savors the way you visibly stiffen.

“Sweetheart,” he says in a soft, deadly tone. “I do not recall ever giving you permission to leave your room.”

Your gaze darts from him to Moon and then to the chessboard. There’s something in your expression that makes his body begin to tremble from the stark force of holding back his anger. He will give you one chance—just one—to offer a single reason why he shouldn’t punish this blatant disregard of his rules.

You lift a brow. A puzzled frown emerges, but the corners of your lips are on the verge of tilting upward, and the hint of a taunt is already clear in the subtle change. Eclipse stamps down his instinctive reaction only just.

“That’s odd,” you say, thoughtful and provoking. Eclipse spies from his peripheral you silently stealing one of Moon’s rooks while the other isn’t watching your clever hands. You nimbly set the marble in the captured pile of black chess pieces and shrug a shoulder—not your injured one. “I don’t recall needing to ask.”

Incredulous and maddened by your impudence, your gall, Eclipse clamps down on the chair and constricts it so severely, his fingers pierce the fabric and crack the wooden armrest in the very next instant.

You startle physically this time, flinching back as your growing smirk turns to shock all while Moon shoots to his feet, his chair scraping loudly.

“Eclipse, that’s enough!”

“Oh, I really don’t think I’ve started, Moonie,” he returns, glaring into your wide eyes. “You live under my roof—you live by my rules. No exceptions.”

Your expression hardens, daring to test him even when he could easily crush you with his hands. Do you not see how thin you’ve worn your luck?

Quietly, with an air of superiority you do not possess, you say, “Then maybe it’s time we left.”

A hint of amusement tugs at the sharp edges of Eclipse’s grin. Oh, is that right? Think you’ve got this all figured out, have you? Think you have a way out from under his thumb?

You have no idea whom you are toying with, and when it comes to you, Eclipse will never play fair. Keeping you at his side is all that matters.

Moon winds a hand around his arm and applies careful pressure intended to dislodge. He’s lost without his gun, and Eclipse can sense it in the urgent nudge beckoning him back.

“Leave them be,” Moon orders.

The demand in his brother’s voice is what pulls him away. For a short moment, Eclipse cannot wrap his head around the pure audacity of it, as if Moon believes he has any room to be telling him what to do. The immediate need to sort this out forces him to straighten and briefly flick his piercing gaze to the recalcitrant child tugging on his arm.

To his credit, Moon does not balk when Eclipse towers over him, his thin red pupils flaring brightly with overconfidence and undue anger.

Traitorous little brother, his thoughts hiss. He’s been too easy on him, allowed his nostalgia to muddle his judgment. Even when locked up, Moon pretends to hold the keys to his cage. Sun at least has the decency to be more good-mannered and tolerates being shut away in a secure room deep within Eclipse’s hideout. He is by no means acceptant of the matter, but he swallows down his disrespect for your sake. Moon apparently needs another reminder.

“No,” Eclipse says simply. He allows a moment to pass, observing the darkness creeping across Moon’s faceplate. Wasted potential. He’d be so much better ruling with Eclipse. “No, I just went through immense trouble to ensure their death is not stolen by the hands of some low-level scum. I’m not about to let you or them ruin my hard efforts at preserving their life. They are coming with me.”

“Remind me what exactly is keeping us here?” you ask with bright faux ignorance.

Eclipse twists his head in your direction at an angle that is far from natural to humans. He hopes it unnerves you as much as it has unsettled others. Your eyes betray nothing, but your hand is curled tightly around the chess piece you’ve been fiddling with.

Moon continues to glare at him, but Eclipse directs his words at you.

“Your inability to do much at all, for one,” he replies, relishing the immediate downward curve of your lips. Ill health does not suit you, but Eclipse won’t deny that he enjoys having your weakened state reliant on his care. “For another, I doubt you’d be willing to abandon one of your darling detectives just to slip away. You can certainly try, but remember that Sun and Moon are my ‘guests’ just as much as you are. I doubt you’d want to leave either of them trapped here if I find you missing.” His optics flash to black. “Neither they nor you will like what I do to them if you try to leave.”

He does not have to explicitly state what that is. In an attempt to assuage the confounding headache of balancing your health and keeping his brothers in check, Eclipse has been running an even tighter ship than usual. He’d been originally met with resistance, but in the end, it was only his say that mattered. During the day, to help perpetuate the appearance of normality and to ensure that no one dares attempt a foolish escape attempt, Eclipse has kept Sun locked up in a room that doubles as an office for the detectives. Sun is allowed a phone, but any calls he makes are monitored, and there are always four guards stationed nearby—two in the office and two outside the door.

And despite the trouble that it could have caused, Eclipse had allowed a couple of his undercover officers to pull files and documents from the detectives’ desks as requested. Essentially, his brothers have relocated their workspace to his safe house. Much more preferable, in his opinion, where he can keep a leash on their meddling.

When night comes, Moon switches with Sun. One of them is always under lock and key, separated from the other and you. An extra precaution, of course.

The one problem is that you and your current trailing detective were also supposed to be confined to a single space. How you managed to convince his people otherwise is lost to him. Another matter he will thoroughly resolve later.

Moon shifts a fraction closer. Eclipse pivots back to him, and black optics narrow.

“Just how long do you think you can keep this up?” Moon asks. “You can't trap us forever, Eclipse.”

“Can’t I?” He crosses his arms. “You might not like the current setup, but I see no issue with it. And maybe this way, you and Sunny can actually start to see some sense. A break from outside influence will be good for you.”

Moon snarls, but you beat him to the punch, shaking your head and laughing bitterly.

“You're delusional if you think this will last, angel eyes.”

“Hardly delusional, sweetheart. Are you even able to keep down solid food yet without it coming right back up?”

Your lips purse, offense marring the lines of your face. “That only happened twice. And I’m perfectly—”

“Three times,” he corrects, finding no small amount of appreciation in the way you clam up the second he talks over you. “Just because the third time did not happen in front of me doesn’t mean I��m not always fully informed about your condition.”

The scowl that bites into whatever rebuttal you'd had on your tongue matches the murderous flare in your eyes. Beautiful. Eclipse knows that once you're back to full health, your transformation into the killer he molds you to be will enhance your image. It's a fantasy he entertains nightly, both in your company and on his own.

But then you smirk, and the lilt to your voice drips with condescension. You lean back in your chair and gesture to your surroundings. “Well, I guess that explains why Moon and I were allowed out here then. Because you’re just so ‘informed.’”

Eclipse manages one thunderous stomp in your direction before Moon slips between him and you. His palm slams into Eclipse’s chassis, his other reaching yet again for a gun that isn’t there. He has to tip his faceplate up to stare the mob boss down, but he firmly braces himself like a mechanical wall in front of you.

In a blink, Eclipse’s hands are curled in the front of Moon’s shirt, dragging him up so that he has to balance on the balls of his feet. Moon readjusts his grip just as fast, grimace harsh, and his own fingers clamp down on both of Eclipse’s wrists and squeeze so tight that the joints creak in protest.

Their optics are a perfect mirror, deadly black reflecting off each other. If there’s any good thing to come of Moon’s impudence, it’s that he’s held on to his anger. Good. At least he imbued one thing Eclipse tried to instill in him.

His voicebox offers a challenge, a guttural growl. Eclipse has half a mind to throw him across the terrace and dive right into a fight like they used to, without pulling any punches. Moon looks to be thinking much the same, and his fixed grin cuts downward.

“You will not touch them,” he snaps.

Eclipse draws him ever closer, feeling the tips of Moon’s shoes kiss pavement. “Know your place, Moonie.”

“I already do. I’m standing in it right now.”

His words spit harshly between them. Movement behind Moon draws Eclipse’s attention to you as you rise on unsteady feet. Ferocious and bright with crystallized fury and misplaced protection, you are ready to fight, regardless if a light breeze could knock you on your back.

And you’re shaking visibly. Not from emotion. You’re like a cornered animal, trying to seem larger and tougher than you actually are while knowing that there’s nowhere else to run.

Eclipse eyes you, considering, and then his brother. You and him are both so obstinate that reason won’t budge you. Neither will fighting. He knows when to override rationale with action. It’s one of the few things he learned years and years ago.

Callously, he drops Moon back down on his feet and yanks his own wrists free. His brother is ready for a brawl, but Eclipse does not introduce one. He stands stiffly, fists clenched but still, and Moon regards him with extreme wariness.

It’s for good reason Eclipse was never made a daycare attendant. Coddling children was never written into his code, but perhaps being around sniveling littles ones all day for an extended duration rubbed off on Moon. He’s acted more like one of those brats in the past few days than in all the other time Eclipse has known him. Seems he doesn’t like to share his toy.

Fortunately for him, Eclipse isn’t too keen on it himself. You are his, and since his brother won’t see to your rest, then Eclipse will take up the mantle. It’s not the first time he’s cleaned up one of Moon’s messes.

“No more games. Come with me,” he commands, beckoning you and Moon to heel.

He can already see the indignation ramping up, but he does not care to listen to further whining. He turns and beelines for the terrace doors. Coldly, he yells over his shoulder a final warning. “Obey me, or I will use force.”

There’s a scoff, from you no doubt, but something stills your flippant tongue from further retort. Judging by the hushed voices behind him, he has an idea of just why that is. Perhaps Moon has finally started to wisen up. How fortunate for him and you.

Eclipse pauses at the doors and tilts his faceplate just enough to make sure you are following. Something unpleasant spins his rays and curls in his system when you first push away Moon’s offered hand for support but then have to quickly grab onto him as you teeter after just one step. Moon’s faceplate ducks close to you, more whispered words being exchanged. You shake your head but must come to some sort of reluctant agreement because you at last lean heavily on him and begin shuffling over.

His attention shifts to the gentle arm that wraps around your waist. Envy is not a welcome feeling, but Eclipse silently swears to tip the scales back in his favor later. You are still too sickly to handle anything else. That night you arrived here, hours from death, remains fresh on his mind.

Satisfied that you and his brother are at last listening to him, he sharply addresses the guards at the doors.

“Wait in my study.”

The two goons, a human and an animatronic, exchange an uneasy glance. The animatronic takes a small step forward, tone repentant. “Sir, please. We didn’t know—”

“Would you like me to repeat myself?” Eclipse’s glare burns with the boiling magma of his irritation that has been steadily increasing by the minute.

“No, sir,” the human answers this time, dipping back inside the building with the other guard.

He watches them scurry away, processor racing as myriad ideas filter through. In that time, Moon reaches his side with you clinging to him and the blanket through sheer determination. The material drags behind you, and before Eclipse can even think of it, he’s reaching forward and tugging the blanket over your shoulders. You flinch back but have nowhere to go, face irritated but eyes blurry. What little strength you managed to conjure up for your trip out here has dwindled to nearly nothing.

Moon is a silent guardian as he keeps a firm grasp on your wrist, your arm draped over his neck. His hands are careful, but Eclipse hates seeing them on you anyway, knowing that at any point, a little too much pressure could leave a mark. Only he should get that privilege. His brothers do not have a claim on you like he does.

Upon a hasty assessment, he makes a decision he’s not particularly keen about. A necessary evil. And while he’d greatly relish the alternative, he knows just how much of a fight you’d put up if he did so, risking reopening your injuries. On any other day, Eclipse would love to spill your blood, but not at the present. He doesn’t trust himself to hold back his lust.

“Carry them,” he tells his brother, eyes narrowed. “They’re too weak to be on their feet right now.”

A wry chuckle from you. Eclipse bristles at the sound, but your head is so heavy, you can’t even hold it up high enough to meet his gaze. Through dry lips, you murmur, “Got out here just fine on my own, didn’t I?”

The well of patience runs dry.

Eclipse bends down far enough that he can look into your dark pupils shadowed by heavy lashes. There is no more playing your games. No more tolerating your antics. He first makes sure you focus on him, your vision surely smeared but nonetheless snapping to alertness when he captures it as is his due. Wielding your full attention, he emphatically says, “Either Moon will carry you to your room, or I will. I’m sure you already know what my preference is, sweetheart, and believe me, I’d be happy to make the decision for you.”

Your sarcasm dies in your throat and slips from your face. It was a humorlessly laughable comment regardless. You’re swaying even with the extra support. Moon must also see through your useless bravado as he stares critically at you, fingers twitching like he’s ready to yank you from Eclipse even though it would do him no good. A rough crackle of static—a sigh—broaches the air, Moon calling your name gingerly.

“Come on,” he coaxes. “It’s not worth aggravating your injuries over this. I’ve got you.”

You swiftly protest. “I already told you I can walk just fine, detective.”

Moon uses that next second to carefully maneuver his arms underneath you and scoop you into them, earning an aggravated noise. Cradled but thoroughly peeved, you smack a hand against his chassis, albeit pathetically, and as your head starts to sag, Eclipse cups the back of it in his palm and adjusts you to lean against Moon’s arm. You let out a growl that surely sounds more impressive to you in that moment.

He seizes the chance to wind an errant strand of hair behind your ear, until Moon takes a pointed step back.

“I’ve got them,” he insists gruffly. “Let’s go.”

Hand hovering in the air, Eclipse curls his fingers inward and grins at Moon, crooked and strained, sun rays slicing through the warm breeze. “You push your luck, Moonie. Don’t make me pay a visit to dear Sunny.”

Moon doesn’t back down. He looks far too defensive for someone in his position, reminding Eclipse of distasteful, ugly memories. “You’re still making the same threats after all these years. You should know better, Eclipse. I’m not worried about Sun.”

“Well maybe you should start worrying, brother, before I—”

“Boys, please,” you interject with blatant exasperation. Your cadence flutters tremulously, causing both his and Moon’s optics to snap to your face. Your eyes barely open. “Save it for after lunch.”

Even with your tease, it is beyond evident that you are not well. Your condition is taking a steady dive.

Moon frowns deeper, red pupils darting to Eclipse then back to you, but lingering on neither for too long as he tries to keep both in sight. His servos is audible from here, racing. Working overtime as he tries to decide what to focus on first. He wants to fight, but you’ve given him pause. His eyes end up staying on Eclipse, but his words, brimming with serious concern, are directed at you. “What do you need? Are you feeling nauseous again? Or are you actually hungry and want to try eating?”

You make a vague noise of agreement and loosely wave a hand. “Yes, that. Starving. Parched too, really. Sad that the only cure is not being fought over like some piece of meat.”

“You’d be surprised at the similarities,” Eclipse says dryly, adding venom to Moon’s glare. The temptation to leap right back into the argument is tangible. He is far from done with this conversation, but ensuring you are properly tended to is more important now.

Your lips are dry, suggesting a need for water. And though your words were laced with satin and mockery, they hold a clear element of truth. You require sustenance, the sooner the better. Especially since your infection has kept you from ingesting much of anything.

Against his instincts, Eclipse forcibly relaxes his stance and rolls his shoulders, metal joints shifting with the alignment. His rays spin to one side and then the other, optics changing between colors yet again. He sets his impatience temporarily to the back burner. He’ll allow it to simmer and heat in the meantime while he takes care of this.

“We’ll continue our talk later,” he promises Moon, drawing out the words. “Privately. For now, you will return to the room I have graciously given you and stay there.”

Moon shakes his head with a scornful huff but says nothing. You, however, mutter something less than polite under your breath, but you’re barely cognizant of your surroundings at this point. You try Eclipse’s patience every waking moment, and he reminds himself that this is only an adjustment period. Soon, you will listen to him. He just needs time and a firm hand to lead you, forceful when necessary.

As he directs Moon to carry you into the building, escorting the pair with pointed supervision, he thinks of the bandaged wounds on your shoulder and thigh. He thinks of the rivulets of blood that had soaked your skin and clothes, how he’d had to physically restrain himself from interfering with his human doctors when they’d performed impromptu surgery to save your life. Your blood had called to him sweetly, begging to be touched and savored as the delicacy it is. You nearly accepted death that night, and though you are on the mend now, the risk still clings to you tightly.

Through it all, Eclipse has made it his personal mission to not let something or someone other than him claim your death. The gang that dared steal what’s his has already suffered his wrath, but their pools of blood meant nothing to him. They didn’t shine like yours does, that velvet, rich color that compliments his burgundy ribbons so perfectly. Intoxicating in every way, so strong that it fills him with desire for a mouth that opens, a tongue that can taste your sweet flavor.

In time, he’ll show his brothers what they could have had if they’d listened to him. And when they inevitably see you ruling at his side, beautiful in your devotion and ruthlessness, they will mourn for what was never theirs to claim.

~~~

Around midday, Sun is doing his best to stay focused on his work. Feigning normalcy becomes more difficult with each phone call he has to make to the precinct. He keeps them as short and to a minimum as possible while convincing the police chief that it is necessary that both detectives don’t come in anytime soon. That they’re heads down on a case requiring extensive field investigation, and going anywhere near the police department could blow their cover.

It’s an extraordinarily elaborate story bearing some notes of truth. Eclipse had given him some intel about another mob to help spin his tale—a gang that the crime lord doesn’t consider an imminent threat but could happily do away with, and Sun had consulted with Moon to get their story straight. He hates lying and feeling guilt eat away at him. But he doesn’t have a choice either way, and even if he did tell the truth, it would only put you, Moon, and himself in harm’s way.

He can take what his older brother dishes out. Sun has dealt with pain from him for years now due to a broken relationship Eclipse refuses to mend. But he can’t risk letting a poor decision hurt you. If he has anything to say about it, he won’t ever be the cause of your pain. If this is what he must do to protect you, then so be it. He and Moon made their choice.

All things considered, it’s not terrible—being locked away in an office. He has no distractions other than his thoughts, but those do a fine job on their own anyway. Sun wracks his processor for ways to escape once you’re well enough. He’s thought of the guards’ patterns to see if there’s a crack in them to be able to slip away.

Mostly, he just thinks about you.

This is the most amount of time he’s ever been separated from Moon as well. The evenings he gets to spend with you and watch over your sleep. But that comes at the cost of switching places with Moon, who picks up the work in the office. Sun feels like he’s lost half of himself this way, but they’ve been firmly kept separated to prevent conspiring, save for a few occasions.

The internal clock in his system informs him that he has several more hours before dusk rules the sky and he can see you again. He’s been unable to focus on much of anything for the past twenty minutes, tapping his pen. His battery is running low and adding more difficulty to him focusing on anything other than that. So he counts down the seconds, comparing it to the schedule he’s familiarized himself with over the past week, and tries to push through his work.

To his surprise, a knock sounds at the office door. One of the guards standing in the room unlocks it. Sun quickly turns his faceplate to his older brother who shrouds the entrance with his massive height.

He twists his fingers teasingly. “Rise and shine, Sunny. Time to swap.”

Caution freezes him stiff.

“What? Why are we switching now?"

“Maybe if you come over here and do as I say, you’ll find out."

Something’s wrong.

A deviation from schedule can only mean that. The flood of possible scenarios shoots through Sun, and he has to urge himself back into motion lest Eclipse stops playing nice and considers it a challenge.

Moving spastically, Sun arranges the documents before him in semi-neat stacks for Moon to sort through. They have to have some type of physical work to send back over to the station in their absence. It’s just barely keeping the police chief from breathing down their necks. Once he’s satisfied with the arrangement of the paperwork, Sun pushes from his chair and rushes over to Eclipse. The guards stationed around him hold their guns menacingly, not aimed but at the ready.

How has this become his new way of life?

Coming to a stop in front of his brother, he hastily peers around him. A little distance away, Moon waits to take his place. Red pupils give him a hurried once-over just as Sun does the same to Moon. Relief fills the brothers at confirming the other is unharmed.

However, Sun notes that Moon’s clothes are more wrinkled than usual. He looks disheveled, and it takes a moment longer for Sun to realize that the lunar detective’s coat is missing. That’s not enough to be alarming, but it does raise Sun’s hackles.

His instincts scream louder.

Eclipse clasps a hand down on his shoulder and gives him a firm push down the hall. “After you.”

Despite herding him away from the office, Eclipse doesn’t go far until he’s certain Moon is secure in the room, new guards filling in for the ones who were watching Sun. A few trail behind Eclipse, and with another firm, not too kind nudge forward, Sun begins the brief parade down to where you are.

Moon had previously shared his worry about the lack of concern their older brother showed for either of the detectives getting familiar with the building’s layout. It doesn’t sit well with them, how they’re being allowed to freely observe their surroundings when Eclipse has taken all other measures of precaution. True, they haven’t been allowed to wander, and they wouldn’t normally look a gift horse in the mouth, but something is amiss here. Sun isn’t sure what to make of it, but his instincts tell him that Eclipse is doing this intentionally. For whatever reason, the mafia boss is making sure they know at least the path to and from the office and your room—cell.

Or it could be that Sun is just overthinking the matter. Crafting paranoia and unease where there shouldn’t be any. Sun wouldn’t put it past Eclipse. His older brother loathes his past and what he was forced to endure at the hands of the daycare owners, but his work as a security guard certainly gave him a lasting impression of how to run things smoothly. Back before everything turned horribly wrong, he used it for good. To protect the little ones. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Sun doesn’t try to make conversation as they walk. His many former attempts have already been harshly shut down, and any pleas for diplomacy have been met with indifference and cold amusement. Eclipse is a shell of his old self. Sun has since learned that all of his efforts to reconnect have been with a ghost.

And even with his paranoia and unease accelerating at every second, he stays quiet as his battery depletes to a severely low level, though that isn’t due to any neglect or means of restraining. For all his flaws, the one promise Eclipse has kept is ensuring his brothers do not ever run out of power again if he can prevent it. In fact, every other time he has come to collect them from your room, he has checked to make sure they’ve recharged. It’s one of his orders that he had made clear upon their arrival. Sun hates how it gives him hope. Moon has told him repeatedly that it’s just inapt regret tied to past trauma, but Sun helplessly views it as a piece of their older brother still living inside him.

That’s why he doesn’t put up resistance at all whenever Eclipse tells him to plug in the cables. Given his waning ability to hide his weariness today and how much excess power he's burning through now, he suspects the ritual will repeat itself again soon.

Lost in his swirling thoughts, he almost hastens right past your room. He gives a synthetic gasp when the collar of his shirt pulls taut around the front of his neck. Eclipse keeps his hand latched around the back of Sun’s collar until the goons stationed at your door unlock it for him.

Pushed into your designated prison cell, Sun grunts at the treatment. His disgruntlement violently washes away when he balks at the veritable wreckage that greets him inside. It is the picture perfect representation of a storm that has blown through and wreaked havoc. Frantic, his pupils instantly dart around to find you. At the confusing but welcome image of you resting peacefully in bed, unscathed, some of his immediate tension releases, but he does not relax. The fans inside him race to cool Sun down from his panic, and his servos works to match the calm pace of your chest rising and falling. Your breaths are slow and deep.

He spends a few more moments reassuring himself of your safety before he resumes taking in the carnage of the room. A table is sagging in the corner from a leg splintered in half. A chair has met a similar fate, with the back support hanging limply by a frail hope and a nail. Wood shavings litter the floor. Cracks spiderweb across a significant portion of the adjacent wall.

“What on earth happened here?” he breathes.

As his artificial breath falters with his surprise, a few of Eclipse’s gang members shuffle inside. They lift the broken table and chair, and Sun scoots out of the way as they carry it out the door. Just as fast, another handful enter the room with replacements that look near identical to the previous chair and table.

It feels very surreal, like he’s on the set of some show or on a stage, witnessing the changing of scenes.

When the furniture is neatly placed and the debris swept up, the last goon files out. Eclipse quietly shuts the door so that it’s just him, Sun, and you left inside. He strides around Sun, drifting over to your sleeping form, and the closeness has Sun quickly stepping over as well just to… just to be safe. He doesn’t like the look in his brother’s eyes when he gazes down at you sleeping.

Eclipse smooths a hand over your forehead and holds it there. Checking your temperature again, no doubt. The three of the brothers have all picked up that frequent habit.

Once satisfied, he finally spares Sun a glance. His yellow optics reflect the glow of the blazing fireplace.

“Moon became a touch upset earlier when he learned that I’d had a sleep aid added to the vigilante’s food,” he explains dismissively in regards to the messy chaos of the room, lightly sweeping your hair out of your eyes. “It was merely a minor dose, of course. But he reacted like I’d poisoned them.”

Flabbergasted, Sun gapes at him and the disturbing casualness with which he speaks. It’s a struggle to keep his own voice low for your sake as his words tumble out in a sharp, reproachful whisper, shock just beating out his anger by a slim margin. “That’s— Tell me this is just a terrible joke. Please tell me you didn't just drug them, Eclipse!”

“I fail to see the problem here,” Eclipse returns icily, eyes turning to thin slits. “It was a mild punishment for their actions today, hardly terrible by any means but more than justified. And you yourself have noted that they rarely sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time. Waking up from nightmares or coughing, or even too sick to do more than lightly doze. I’m helping them.”

Sun’s grin strains at the edges, and his hands ball into fists at his sides. Several garbled noises escape him as he tries to override the abhorred disbelief consuming him. “They’re not some… some pet for you to just play around with! I don’t get why you’re so obsessed—”

“No, you don’t get it, do you?” Seeing Eclipse abandon your side offers small comfort for Sun, but he stiffens as the other marches right up to him so brazenly that he stumbles back a step before centering himself. He doesn’t even have the chance to go far because one of Eclipse’s hands grabs a suspender to keep him in place. “They are mine. I own them, not you or Moonie. The sooner that you can accept that they belong to me, the sooner we can all start getting along, Sunny.”

Sun releases a scoff of crazed laughter, shaking his head at the absurdity. He registers the strengthening grip around his suspender, metal pulling harshly on the threads of his shirt, but he pays it no mind. His vision darkens with the disappearance of his pupils as his emotions begin to overheat his servos.

“You’re the one who chose this path! You’re the reason we’re no longer together as a family because all you care about is yourself and your stupid, reckless pride!”

With a terrifying growl of hatred, Eclipse hurls Sun against the wall, never letting go of him with an iron fist. Sun grunts and squirms viciously in place, rays spinning without abandon as he fights to get free. Broken sentences and incoherent words sputter out as he wrestles against his own brother while trying to spew out the pained truth.

“Why can’t you understand?! They’re not yours! They’ll never be y—”

The hand not pinning him like a bug strikes forward, leaping behind his faceplate and pinching one of the few wires tucked away.

As soon as the pressure is applied, Sun’s voice is garbled entirely. It turns to low static, indistinguishable and rough like gravel. His words die in his figurative throat. It’s the equivalent of a hand pressed over his mouth, and as if to add derision to the act, as soon as Sun falls silent, Eclipse slowly releases the wire and then drags a finger back to the front of Sun’s faceplate, pressing it against his teeth.

A dark, sinister grin writes across Eclipse’s faceplate. Softly, too soft, he murmurs, “Do not wake them.”

Sun’s eyes hesitantly slide over to where you lie. You are still asleep—thankfully—but your brows are furrowed, and your position has slightly changed. It is a wonder that you haven’t woken already, but, Sun notes with bitterness, that could be explained by the drug that was put in your food.

With a stormy glower ahead, he dares Eclipse. He dares him to deny his words, claim to not be at fault for ruining everything good they’d had.

For a long moment, neither of them move. Sun isn’t sure the other won’t attack him. He’s not sure if he wants that either. As cathartic as it seems at times to imagine getting in a few punches and smacking some sense into Eclipse, deep down, he knows it would just hurt him more. Hostility and anger won’t bring back his older brother.

But that’s all Eclipse responds to nowadays. He’s refused to entertain any imploring or questions about why things can’t be as they once were. The single common ground they share is taking care of you, and even that Eclipse wants to have to himself. There’s nothing to hint that he misses what he’s lost.

Well, no… That’s not entirely right. Sun and Moon wouldn’t be kept here otherwise if that were the case. Eclipse had offered to let them leave initially with the stipulation that if they tried to return, they would be shot in their tracks. And he would be keeping an eye on them as well and would know the second they squealed or tried to bring in reinforcements.

He hadn’t needed to say what he would hold over their heads if they tried to fight back, but the detectives know. Whether they like it or not, your life is cupped in Eclipse’s hands. It would not take much at all for him to disappear with you for good, taking you out of their lives forever.

So they’ve stayed. And it’s been strange and unnatural having their big brother back in their daily routine. But Eclipse has been taking care of his brothers too, in a very small way. Helping them fabricate their cover story, staying on top of the charge of their batteries, allowing them to keep you company when he cannot.

Something is changing. Something has to give eventually. Perhaps Sun has finally found that moment.

As he sees himself in the black pits of his brother’s optics, a dull red glow also appears in them. Confused, Sun follows the source of the glow, glancing down, and a thin light shining from his chassis winks back at him, warning him of his low power.

Eclipse holds him in place for several more silent seconds. He’s still gripped by rage—that much Sun can tell and feel in the shuddering fist holding him up—but a different emotion changes his grin and the shadows draped over it. Yellow pupils flick down to the pinprick of red. Teeth full of malice turn to something less hungry, less sharp. Incrementally, finger by finger, his hand releases the fabric of Sun’s shirt and suspender until the detective is at last freed. He slides down the wall and finds his footing again.

Sun remains as still as possible. Waiting. Unsure if it’s over yet or if Eclipse is just letting him think that.

But then his brother huffs, disdain ridden in the short electric exhale, and he leaves Sun there. He approaches the door, his knuckles rapping shortly, and one of his henchmen unlocks and pushes it open. Eclipse’s hand clamps down on the edge of the door, and the wood groans under his fingertips. Pausing, he offers Sun a final, dour scan.

“First Moonie, now you. It would seem I am not related to either of you at all, given that poor timing and choice of words runs in the family.” When he grins, it is unkind and does not reach his eyes, but it stretches farther when Sun edges back a foot. The firelight licks at Eclipse’s dark rays and casts an elongated shadow of them across the back wall. He looks even more daunting like this, pupils furious slits that freeze Sun in place. Quietly, Eclipse adds, “Recharge and do not dare to speak to me about this ever again. Because if you do… I won’t be so generous with my patience next time. Count yourself lucky that the only reason I don’t bury your head in the plaster behind you is the fact that I don’t want to disturb their sleep.”

His yellow pupils land on you, and Sun follows suit. When he looks back at Eclipse, those burning rings threaten to melt him.

“You wouldn’t want Moonie to have to pick up your broken pieces, would you?” Eclipse taunts, sneering. “Rest well, Sunny.”

He steps out, and even though his words sting and cut the air like a knife, the door clicks shut almost silently behind him.

The only light now comes from the fireplace and the faintly lit charging tube that casts a teal glow, brightening and dimming in intervals as if it’s breathing.

If Sun were human, he’s certain he’d be shaking. Even still, he slowly twists on his heel and stares at the fire in a lost way while he tries to comprehend… everything. He’s not sure he can fully process it all, but there’s no denying the deep ache inside him despite being physically unharmed. It’s too much to think and feel at once, so he just stands in place and tries to do neither for one minute of respite.

But the fire doesn’t warm him, and the thoughts don’t go away. They just scar him deeper with every repetition of his brother’s biting words. Old wounds reopened. Sun had thought he’d be ready to face Eclipse again if it came to it. Turns out his older brother isn’t the only one capable of lying to himself.

Pressing a hand to his top rays, he sighs. He almost squeezes and yanks them into a spin like Eclipse used to do. Back when things weren’t so complicated and he just wanted to get the drop on him. Just a silly, stupid prank. Sun never thought he’d miss it.

His arms drops back down as he checks on you. Your face has smoothed out in your deep sleep, and it is good to know that you’re catching up on your rest for once. Sun doesn’t agree at all with Eclipse’s methods, but what’s done is done. He’ll do what he can to maintain your comfort in the meantime.

Footsteps gentle, he heads over to the charging port and connects the cables to his chassis under his shirt. A low hum begins as his battery processes the new source of power. Thankfully, there is a fair amount of give in the cables, and Sun uses that to his advantage. He tucks them out of the way and then scoots over to you with as minimal disturbance as he can manage.

The bandage on your shoulder looks fresh. Someone must have replaced it just a short while ago. Sun hopes it was you or Moon who took care of it, but he knows that’s just wishful thinking. You must have jostled your shoulder for it to require new bandaging already. He’ll be sure to spend what precious little time he has in your company to get up to speed—after you’ve slept, of course.

Fabric shifts as he carefully winds an arm around you. You’re closer to the edge of the bed than he’d like, so this is just a precaution, naturally. He won’t deny having you in his arms feels warm. Nice. If only it were under better circumstances.

Sun stills when you groan and mumble something he doesn’t quite catch. Your head tilts in his direction, and your legs adjust under the comforter, but other than that, you don’t move. A cool gust of air trails over his faceplate as your breath tickles his cheeks. Hesitation wars within him but ultimately loses when he reaches up and delicately brushes the hair out of your face.

Holding you like this, seeing you so vulnerable and unaware… Sun resists a shaky spark of static at the unparalleled intimacy. When you’re awake, you’re louder than life and full of wit and spite and danger. You bite off far more than you can chew and keep getting yourself stuck in situations that often worry Sun to death. But in sleep, you are a new creature. Your exhaustion doesn’t hide, and you look a great deal more fragile than you truly are. That doesn’t hinder the concern from eating away at Sun, and if he curls his arm a bit tighter around your waist, no one is there to call him out on it.

Escape isn’t viable for the immediate future. You’re still battling infection and the nasty pain from the bullet wounds. Sun doesn’t want you to rush headfirst into action when recovery should still take priority, and Moon has expressed much the same.

They are working on a plan, though. Eclipse may have eyes and ears everywhere, but he can’t monitor everything. The files from work are one of them. The detectives know that Eclipse has instructed his goons to strictly check them each day and night, before and after a switch, but Sun and Moon got their jobs for a reason. By the time anyone can even start to catch wind of the vague encryptions and obscure notes left to each other, it will be too late.

They have a foundation to communicate. Now they just need to utilize it to combine their knowledge and work together as they’ve always done best. Once they’re ready or when you’re well enough to flee, whichever comes first, they’ll break the news to you. It’ll take time and an extreme expenditure of patience.

But for you? Sun will bend over backwards and break his joints and endure any heated words before he lets Eclipse ever sink his claws into your heart and mind. You are his purpose to protect and defend, and with Moon, he’ll ensure he gets you out of here.

Family ties or not.

~~~

Roll the Die Behind the Scenes:

Eclipse throughout this whole drabble: I am going to kill everyone and then myself if someone tests my patience one more time

Y/N, Moon, and Sun: Bet

Moon and Eclipse: *throw a huge fight, smash furniture and walls, scream obscenities at each other*

Y/N: *sleeps like a baby through all of it*

Eclipse when Sun tries to talk back in a slightly elevated tone: Inside voice, please. You’re being too loud (re: annoying)

Eclipse: Everyone else is the problem and I’m not. I deserve a medal for the amount of patience I’ve had to use around those three idiots, but surely I’m not the one consistent source of all these fights. They are.

Goon: Sir, I’m not sure I’m qualified to—

Eclipse: Shut up and let me talk about my feelings

Y/N: Hey, wanna see a magic trick?

Moon: What?

Y/N: *steals another one of Moon’s chess pieces*

Y/N: Checkmate

Moon: I am going to bury you myself if you don’t put that back

#daycare attendant x reader #moon x reader #sun x reader #eclipse x reader #sleuth jesters au #sleuth jesters fanfic #detective au #fnaf sb #writing tag

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