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do you want to read some fun UTMV Vampire fanfic? do you want to see social outcasts bonding, platonic affection, found family forging, and most importantly, vampire bites?
check out Blood for Blood on AO3 now!
this fanfic is very much inspired by @/owl-bones and @/antlered-prince's Vampire AU designs and discussions
we're currently 5 chapters in with 22k words, take care of the tags and warnings!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
So Cries the Wolf - Chapter 11
Summary: Preparations that were put into place begin to pay off. You and Eclipse tango around your respective emotions with Montague as your unwilling partner. And the Sun rises.
Word Count: 9546
PLEASE. PLEASE I NEED ECLIPSE TO CARVE A PUMPKIN IDC HOW IT HAPPENS JUST GET THEM A PUMPKIN PLEASE
Pumpkins - 969 words
“I need your biggest pumpkin.”
The pumpkin seller gave you the flat look of a woman who had been told the same statement at least five times before you’d shown up and she fully expected to keep hearing the same thing after you left. Letting out a long sigh, she gestured to the broad spread of pumpkin patch ahead of you.
“It’s self-service, you take what you can find,” she intoned. “Have a spooky blast finding your perfect pumpkin. The weighing scales are up by the entrance, we do not provide trolleys to transport from the harvest patch to your vehicle.”
“That’s okay, we came on foot! And we have plenty of hands.”
Her eyes went from you to the dog by your side, unassuming. And then her gaze tracked slowly up and up behind you, and garnered that expression of surprise you were quickly getting used to. Even after putting him in your biggest hoodie, thick overcoat, and wrangling an extra long pair of cargos from an online shopping site, he still caught eyes wherever he went with you.
“He’s shy,” you said quietly as Sun raised a hand and waved. The seller waved back, stepping aside for the three of you to shuffle onto the pumpkin patch proper.
It took about an hour for the three of you to find four good pumpkins. Sun was extremely excited for this, and you let him go running off freely to find his own personal pumpkin. Moon had already talked to you the night before about what sort of pumpkin he wanted, and you obliged to his wants, picking out a smaller one that easily fit into both of your hands. Montague would hop across the trails, sniffing around the pumpkins for any possible smell of rot, but otherwise keeping his distance - you two would share, as was the easiest way when one friend didn’t have opposable thumbs.
But you also had another to pick a pumpkin out for, and Eclipse specifically had asked to be surprised. Easy enough to do, since this was his first Halloween and not only was he excited but they had been decorating after finding your old stash from three years ago.
It was nice, being genuinely excited about this holiday for the first time in a while.
Montague’s low whuff caught your attention. Hurrying around the end of one of the plots, you saw what he’d found and the glee in your chest warmed up into a bright grin.
“Oh. Oh yes,” you said softly. “He’s going to love this one.”
-
Three hours later, involving having Sun carry all your goods back to the train station, wobbling your quad bike back to the cabin, and an obscene amount of pumpkin disembowelment: it was time.
“So, what did you guys carve?” You leaned over to glance at Sun and Eclipse’s pumpkins, sat proudly hollow on the newspaper-covered table. You’d done this outdoors just in case, but you didn’t know the extent of the splattering that would occur (and since you were going to be cleaning juice out of your hair tonight, the preparations had been underwhelming).
“I did a crescent moon!” Sun said proudly. “I don’t think the clouds were that good, I kept breaking pieces off.”
“Hey, it’s good for your first attempt.” Sure the moon was a bit wonky and, yes, bits of the clouds were more jagged than smooth. But you hadn’t expected masterpieces anyway, so the fact it was recognisable was all good.
“Is that a moon on your’s too?” Sun asked, leaning his head over to peek.
“Full moon! And a werewolf, kind of.”
“I modelled,” Montague chimed in from below, his tail thudding on the dirt ground at an ever increasing rate.
“And what about you?” You turned now to Eclipse, still licking bits of pumpkin scraps and juice from his claws. Smacking their feathery lips, they crouched down fully to grin alongside the pumpkin.
“Me,” they chirped. Sure enough, there were two pairs of eyes and a very wide, very jagged grin stretching right across the pumpkin that was at least twice the size of his head. Lots of surface area to work on, and they’d shredded most of it as snack food.
Laughing softly, you ruffled through Eclipse’s feather ruff, his head nuzzling hard into your hand as he hummed and they purred and you half expected them to bowl you over in their enthusiasm.
“Okay, okay. Help me clean up the insides, this will make at least a week’s worth of curry, maybe some muffins too,” you said, gesturing to the plastic bowls dotted around. You’d made sure to rig a few bowls with bucket handles for Montague to lift through too, but after carrying everything inside, you need to box it all for refrigeration. Thankfully many hands made light work, and you had many hands to help you out.
An hour in and Moon was out, and the pair of you ducked outside with Moon’s pumpkin in his hands. Fireflies began to flit around the edge of the clearing as he carved away, with you sharing stories of the day and him sharing stories of Halloween at the Pizzaplex. No peace was yet left, as eventually Eclipse came bounding after you, full of energy and pumpkin seeds and intent on peppering you with the latter. Dew soaked into your jumper but nothing would drown the mood as the pair of you rolled over on the grass, Montague sitting next to Moon and the pair exchanging a quiet look.
Soon, four pumpkins sat in the window of your cabin, while four figures bustled around your kitchen in the constant process of boxing and weighing crushed pumpkins and seeds. One a werewolf, one a demon, one a moon, and one a lonely blackbird in a night sky.
"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." (For SCtW please? 0w0)
EEEEEEE this one was fun~
-
Hunter (2230 words)
The sound of your name urged you out of sleep, sluggish and muggy, thick summer air clogging your thoughts and lungs as you rolled over and into a face of feathers. Unpicking your way through arms and fluff, grimacing as sweat left the sheets trying to cling to you, you shuffled up to the bedroom door and opened it to Montague.
“Sun’s making breakfast, you should probably get up if you want it fresh,” he prompted. “Both of you.”
“Wasshe making?” you mumbled out.
“Blueberry pancakes apparently.” There was a loud plastic clatter from the kitchen and Montague promptly scooted backwards, glancing over his shoulder. “...I should-”
“Yeah, I’ll go change.”
Closing the door on Montague’s rapidly retreating back, you began your morning routine, stumbling blindly through to the bathroom. Lukewarm water never felt so good, clearing off the secondary skin of grime that had formed overnight and leaving you just a bit more alive compared to ten minutes ago. Towelled down to a point where you weren’t exactly dry but you were at least less damp, you pulled on a clean set of clothes and stepped out and into, once again, a face of feathers.
“Clip.”
“Hot.”
You shuffled aside to let the grumbly overheated demon past and left to the sound of the shower running. Water pattering turned to pan sizzling, your bedroom left behind for the smells of oil, sugar and blueberries in the kitchen. Some smears of batter decorated part of the opposite wall to the kitchen counter surface, which was covered in bowls both empty and partially full, and a bag of frozen blueberries that had been ripped open and left empty. The space around the stove was devoted entirely to Sun - bobbing around the frying pan, flipping pancakes onto the steadily growing pile next to him, slaloming around to grab the nearest bowl of batter and ladle the contents into the sizzling pan. Montague sat quietly nearby, his gaze fixed entirely on the animatronic’s hands and anything that could end up within his constantly moving reach. The smell of cooking batter, brown sugar, and caramelised fruit juice coated the dining table as you dropped into one of the available chairs.
Mid-spin, Sun’s optics locked onto your face and his movement halted, although his head continued through several spins of momentum.
“Good morning, star! Breakfast will be ready soon. You should get a drink after last night,” he chirped away. You deigned not to argue this morning, instead sluggishly dragging yourself back out of your briefly acquired seat and pushing another bowl out of the sink so you could fill up a water glass. Leaning against the counter surface, you sipped your glass down, watching as Sun hummed and bounced his way through another two pancakes.
“...How many have you made?”
“Oh, I lost count after…six I think?”
“How much batter did you make?”
“Does it matter? Sometimes you measure with the heart!”
You glanced to the side. An empty box of waffle mix stuck out from the top of the freshly crammed trash can. Finishing your glass, you made a mental note to add this to your upcoming shopping list.
Two glasses of water down and you could see Eclipse peeking from your bedroom, face still scrunched up in a fatigued glower and curl of the teeth, but now with droplets of water clearly dripping onto the floor. They reached up a hand, waving it briefly at you, before ducking back out of view.
“Clip should be coming out soon,” you mentioned to Sun.
“Good timing, I think we’re all done here!” Sun glanced over the bowls, then picked up one, peered inside, and tipped the batter contents into the other bowl he was using. Maybe not done just yet.
Quietly you sat, thinking of city apartments with cramped kitchens, the frying pan sizzling away, a mug of coffee pressed into your hands and a friend leaning against your shoulder. It’d been too easy to abandon that routine, tucking your microwave and kettle into one corner of the kitchen here and leaving extra cupboards empty. In these mornings now though, as another glass of water was earnestly pressed into your hands and a heavy furry weight lay across your feet, you could ignore the sticky hot air and poor sleep and simply be.
Montague shifted abruptly against your leg, a low growl ebbing from his throat. Just as you were putting your water glass down and scooching your chair to move, there was a knock at the door.
Dok-dok.
You stared in silence. The pan sizzled. Montague crouched close to the ground, hackles raised. Sun hesitated, the last dregs of batter frozen at the lip of his bowl.
Dok-dok.
Your bedroom door was empty. Filling your lungs with a preparatory breath, you glanced to Montague and gestured to the emergency tools cupboard. He shook his head, but remained agitated. Lowering your hands down, you got up from your chair and padded across to the door. A cursory crack let in a stream of cooled forest air that sent the hair on your legs prickling.
“Hey! I’m glad I managed to catch you.”
A man stood a couple paces from the door, sun-freckled face held up by crow’s feet from years of smiles. He was certainly dressed appropriately for the terrain, complete with a camping kit hooked onto his bag. His attire was partially dirt smudged, his baggage was dulled by sun and rain. He looked like any other hiker enthusiast you’d run into, if not for the crossbow dangling off the side of his backpack.
Once you were primed by the one sign, the rest came into view easily. A thermos clasped on the leg. Small pouches clipped to the bag straps. A faint dent on the inside of the jacket that was too thin to be a torch. A lone tent peg that dangled from the backpack, only it wasn’t a tent peg, of course.
Mustering the best ‘so help me I just got out of bed’ smile you could, you raised a hand in greeting.
“Hi, hey. Yeah, I’m not on patrol for another hour but when I’m out here I’m always on the clock. Is there something the matter?”
“I’m just fine, myself,” the hunter replied, waving your concern off with a blase hand. “I was told by the park management that there’d been some strange occurrences happening out in this area, and that you were the ranger that patrolled this area in particular. I was wondering if you’d have any better insight of these events?”
Shit.
“Look, all kinds of strange stuff can happen out here, especially in summer. Mostly because people keep getting heat stroke or the heat messes with some of the radio signals,” you said with a shrug. “Any strange in particular?”
“People getting lost on trails? Signs sending people down the wrong way? Maybe reports of landmarks getting moved apparently?”
“Oh yeah, that’s the heat stroke. The number of times I’ve been called out because someone got lost on a popular trail and they’d actually blundered off elsewhere because they were exhausted and confused. There’s a reason we keep an ambulance on site nowadays.”
The hunter kept smiling, but the crow’s feet had fled. You were clearly not giving him the answers he wanted, and you were content with that.
“A lot of folks getting heat stroke, I guess. Maybe campers reporting strange sounds? Grinding sounds?”
He was digging in. But you were so good at deflecting that you were putting mirrors down for a challenge.
“Are you a Youtuber?” you asked, leaning against the door. “One of those guys that tracks down spooky things?” You had to avoid smugly grinning as the wave of discomfort washed over the hunter’s shoulders.
“Not like those guys, no. Well, thank you for the help you could give. I’ll be around for a week so if you hear of anything else strange, come give me a call. Or a knock,” he commented.
“You on the campervan site?”
“That’s right. Airstream Basecamp, with a woodlands decal. Can’t miss it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. And uh - “ You sharply nodded your head upward, gesturing to his bag. “You be careful hunting. We’re off-season, so you’ll need to make sure your licence from management is to hand.”
“Licence? Oh, of course!” The hunter patted one of his trouser pockets. “No worries there.” He was backing away. You stayed leaning against the doorframe, all too aware of Montague having nosed his way out from behind you and watching the man intently. One more hand wave, one more friendly goodbye smile, and then the hunter turned his back on you to vanish into the woods around.
Your breath wheezed out your nose as you closed the cabin door. Montague butted at your legs, whining up a storm, and you quickly crouched to bury your fingers into his ruff.
“It’s fine, it’s okay,” you murmured. “He’s gone, he’s not going to bother us any further-”
KA-BANG
The floor shuddered from an impact sound. Feet skidded on the wood as you bolted upright, abandoning the empty kitchen and burnt final pancake to instead haul into the workshop room.
Curled up and over and hunched against the cabin ceiling, Eclipse’s core eyes were furious pools of shadow, burning amber pinpricks barely visible under the surface. All four eyes glared past the open doorway you occupied, over Sun’s head as the animatronic continued to brace his body against Eclipse’s chest. His jester feet struggled to maintain a grip - already one chair laid out on the floor near to the pair.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, sunshine will deal with it,” Sun continued to murmur as a low hiss bubbled up from Eclipse’s throat. Their mouth split wide, baring his teeth.
You ran to them, under Sun’s arm and burying yourself in their feathers. Reaching up you cupped their cheeks, drawing their attention down towards you, just you.
“Hey, hey,” you whispered, the same tone you’d use when you found an injured fox or deer. “Look at me, big guy. Look down, look at my face, okay.”
Eclipse tore his gaze away from the unseen foe outside the cabin, rattling growls gurgling up his chest. You could feel his teeth grazing the top of your head, the shift of his chest forward as he continued to bend inwards.
“I can smell them,” he snarled. “The hunter.”
“He’s not coming here, he’s going away,” you whispered, digging your fingers into their feathers.
“Threat, pain, hunter. Would kill me, kill Montague, kill you.” You looked up slowly, in time for hot breath to scatter the hairs from your face, their four shimmering pupils scalding your retinas.
“No, no, it’s okay. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you.” Gentle touches pulled on their face, taking a step back. Urging him to continue folding down, crouching into the floor, always trying to keep himself in your palms. Another guttural snarl was his response.
Bit by bit, Eclipse sank down. You slowly collapsed yourself too, down to a squat then letting your knees drop to the floor. He followed, of course.
“No-one’s going to come and hurt any of us,” you whispered. It was easy to find your perch, the curve of their leg that dipped towards the hips, and you nestled your way up. No sooner had you done so, then hands made their way around you, arms wrapping tight and pulling you even closer.
Eclipse’s snarls and growls ebbed, leaving the bare warning rumbles of a departing thunderstorm. Their eyes closed, just a little. Their head rested on top of yours.
Birdsong began to echo in the cabin once more. Your fingers tallied tracks through meadows of purple, and Eclipse’s claws made soft furrows through your hair.
“If he comes back, I will defend us,” Eclipse warned, soft but undeniable of his intention.
“I don’t doubt you will,” you agreed.
It took another minute for the pair of you to untether, and for you to immediately receive Montague’s muzzle burying into your stomach. Smiling gently, you ran your hand over his head, holding him close with your other arm.
“Will he come back?” Sun asked, crouching down to join you all on the floor.
“He shouldn’t,” you said. “I bullshitted about the licence. All I need to do is call Anthony and tell him there’s a poacher going around my area with a crossbow, and he’ll deal with that.”
“But what about the cryptid he’s hunting?” Montague asked. “Something has clearly caused enough issue for hunters to come out here.”
“It’s not the first time something’s caused a stir, just one of the rare times that stir has led to one of them turning up on our doorstep,” you replied. “Problem is, I might have been too right. This cryptid’s been fucking around with hikers during peak summer heat. It’ll be hard to get a bead on where it is or what it might be.”
Eclipse’s hand settled on your shoulder. Montague pushed himself further up onto your lap, nuzzling at your cheek.
“That’s okay,” he said. “We’ll figure it out, same way as always. We protect these woods, we’ll keep them safe from anything.”
“Including the hunters,” you agreed, reaching up once more to cup Eclipse’s cheek, feeling them lean into it as if your touch would mould them.
“Guardian angel.”
looking at the toolbox fools in particular, two prompts to choose from:
"You can't keep it bottled up forever." and/or "How long did you think you could hide that?"
i might have a catharsis communication/ hurt comfort agenda here hehe >:3c
mmmm yes we are serving some good catharsis tonight
(bounty hunter Eclipse is from naffeclipse, detective AU is from sunnys-aesthetic)
---
Smoke (2172 words, no CWs)
Eclipse had been sitting in the workshop for ten minutes now, and his mechanic had barely said a word to him beyond “Hey, make yourself at home.” They’d been working on a limb project the whole time, and considering the amount of grease scraping their elbows they’d been roughly this amount of busy the whole day.
He sat at the work table. They worked. He leaned across on his elbows. They worked. His fingers tapped slowly on the table surface. They worked.
A thin wisp of steam vented from the back of Eclipse’s neck as his optics narrowed.
“Busy day?” he asked.
“Mm? Yeah, pretty busy,” they replied, briefly glancing up from the leg they were wrist-deep in. For a moment Eclipse wanted to breeze past the table, grab them from their work, and curl up on the sofa until they weren’t sweating and their hands didn’t tremble. But he didn’t. He would be good, he could be good.
“Have you taken a break at all today?” he pressed in further. There was a twitch, a telltale squeeze as the mechanic tightened their grip on the screwdriver in their hand.
“It’s fine, I’ve just been working on back-up things,” they replied.
“Didn’t realise you could have a busy and a lazy day,” Eclipse kept the pressure down, and the mechanic didn’t buckle so much as show a crack in the edge. They let out a long and slow breath, before quietly continuing to pick through the leg’s innards, setting peeling wires aside for later inspection.
Eclipse’s fingertips dug into the metal table surface. Just a notch.
“Have you been getting up to anything?” he asked. “Getting outside the workshop at all?”
“Mmm. Not much.”
Oh, now he definitely wanted to grab, but this time to scruff and sit them down and find out what was hidden behind the low words and quiet attitude and inability to look at him in the optics. Stepping around the side of the table got the mechanic’s attention finally, as they paused in their work to look over and up (and up a bit more).
“What’s wrong?” Eclipse rumbled.
“Nothing!” It was like their whole body had puffed up, the way their shoulders tucked up to their ears and arms folded in with elbows sticking out.
“You’re not talking about something.”
“Because there’s nothing to talk about!” Their gaze flicked downwards, narrowing as they looked back to Eclipse’s face. “So says the guy with a busted ankle. How long did you think you could hide that? Honestly, the way you hold your weight to one side says it all-”
“And you have been working non-stop since the morning, maybe even last night.” Dark bags under the eyes, sweat-swept hair, a tremor on the knuckles. Eclipse ducked down, lifting the mechanic easily into his grip to set them on the worktable - only they abruptly curled inwards, painfully whining.
That was not a usual response to Eclipse’s level of strength.
Immediately he set them on the table, eye to chest, but easier now for him to pull at their shirt. The mechanic smacked at him, cawing and fluttering and spluttering, but he tugged the hem from where it’d been tucked in and pulled it up.
Purple and green. A violent splattering of colour adorned the side of the mechanic’s lower torso. Some of it was sparse dots but the largest bruise was most definitely the size and shape of a regular human boot’s sole.
Eclipse stared. Servo ticking wildly as he absorbed the sight, taking in the details, the depth of florid violet and sickly green.
“Clip?” Hands against his cheeks pulled Eclipse from his daze, optics going from black to yellow once more. His mechanic dragged him back to their face, the distant exhaustion turned agony now turned a soft regret.
His shoulders sagged. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead against their’s as they drew circles along his sunrays. Together they waited for the burst of energy to seep away to the corners of the room.
“Let me down so I can fix your ankle,” the mechanic said quietly.
“Do you have anything for the bruise?” Eclipse replied.
“Some lotion. Nothing fancy.”
Humming in understanding, Eclipse scooped his hands under their arms, waiting for them to grip on before he lifted them back down to the floor. He kept a hand on their back as they moved to one of the stools, and kicked off his shoe with the toe of the other. While he sat, they rummaged in one of the drawer, pulling out several screwdrivers and a set of pliers that they slid into small loops on their belt. Then they kneeled below him, rolling up the trouser leg with professional focus.
“I don’t see anything straight off, what happened?” the mechanic asked.
“Kicked something harder than I should have.” Specifically someone’s rib-cage. Eclipse was built well but kicking things (people) over and over had consequences. Who could have expected that? The mechanic squinted a touch disbelievingly before going into the ankle joint.
“...Oh, yeah. You’ve popped part of the joint connection to the leg, I can rewire it back into place and strengthen the back part of the foot so this won’t happen for a while.”
“Good.” Eclipse leaned back in his seat, gritting his teeth as the panelling of his calf was pried open. As much as there was comfort in familiar, reassuring hands, it didn’t necessarily reduce the discomfort as someone else opened him up to fix problems he was well accustomed to. Metal clinked away as the mechanic did the work they promised. Moments of hissing wire and quiet tension that grew and fell. Silently they propped his foot up onto their knee, to better open it up and examine the supports inside. Under the screwdriver, the low wire ache ebbed away, leaving behind a comfortable emptiness. A lack of pain.
“Give that a try,” the mechanic urged. Eclipse lifted his foot free, setting it flat on the ground and testing the ankle joint, back and forth.
“Much better,” he said, giving it a little stomp for good measure. The mechanic huffed, pride filtering through the exhaustion, and left him to set his trousers and shoes back to normal while they packed the toolkit away. When they turned back, he was already stood to full height, a hand extended to settle between their shoulders.
“Your turn,” Eclipse rumbled. The mechanic shifted, eyes widening a touch. Surprise? Panic? A bit of both? But they didn’t argue, folding underneath his hand as they led the way around to their washroom. Rummaging through one of the cupboards, they retrieved a small pot of lotion, handing it over to Eclipse. With them sat on a spare stool, and Eclipse on his knees, they were both almost about the same height level.
They unbuttoned their shirt, pulling the undershirt hem up and aside for Eclipse. Daubing some of the lotion onto a finger, he began to work it into the patches of mottled skin that he could see.
“Easy,” the mechanic muttered. “You don’t have to press down so hard.”
Eclipse gave them a brief look before continuing his work. Silence seeped into the room, lit by a partially fizzing light bulb. For such a menial task, Eclipse took it with a combination of reverence and repulsion - it was still his mechanic but the work was ugly, and these bruises would need to be looked after with care until they healed. How easy these bodies were to break.
For now though, he would kneel.
“Who did this?” he asked. A name, a face, a location. Anything to spark a trail.
“I don’t know,” his mechanic replied, shrugging briefly. “I - I was having a bad day. Bad week. I just wanted one thing to go right so I got dinner at Chica’s and just…some guy decided to mouth off on one of her waitresses.”
“You stepped in to defend?”
“I cracked him across the jaw.” They snorted, and Eclipse could feel the muscles contract under his hand even while they winced. “Fighting on linoleum floors is…tricky. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Eclipse muttered as he rubbed his thumb across the wide sole-shaped bruise. A size six? Maybe a size seven. He could consider it later.
“Honestly, I wasn’t even doing it to defend her. I was just mad. I wanted an outlet and that was the easiest one that I could see in the moment.” The admission was unbidden, and a surprise to that much as well. Especially since earlier talk had been like prying blood from a stone.
Wiping the last traces of lotion away, Eclipse inclined his head, nodding that the work was done. The shirt hem was left to fall again. While he didn’t say anything, he did offer his hand after getting to his feet, and the mechanic took it to shuffle in his wake out of the washroom.
Back inside the workshop, they took charge again, this time guiding Eclipse towards the main sofa - the easiest place to be held and a favoured spot for both. They sat down, he sat down next to them, and they scrambled their way over his lap to lay against his chest.
“How long were you holding onto that anger that you decided to start a fist-fight?” Eclipse asked, genuinely curious. He had seen plenty of his mechanic’s fire and knew they were entirely capable of protecting themselves (most of the time), but going from zero to one hundred on the compulsion to hurt someone was not something that fit into his view of his raven.
The response was to press their face into his chest and remain quiet. Once several long seconds had passed of this, he sighed and began to card his fingers through their hair.
“You need to find an actual outlet when you get overwhelmed,” he chided them quietly.
“Strong words from the bounty hunter,” was the cloth muffled reply.
“I’m serious. You can't keep it bottled up forever. You could have talked to me, if I’d know you were stressed.” His fingers tapped against their cheek, soft contact on soft skin.
“I…I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Little bird, the reason I don’t talk about my work is because it’s confidential.”
“And you shoot people.”
“Sometimes I shoot people. If you need to complain about your workload, I can listen.”
The mechanic sagged in his arms, head shuffling so they could peek up to look at him.
“How do you deal with strong emotions?”
Eclipse hesitated. For a long time. Thoughts slipping backwards towards metal and sanguine, before he felt his mechanic pick up his hand and start playing over his fingers, as if they knew he needed tethering in the moment. Or maybe they were trying to tether themselves.
“I smoke cigars,” he replied.
“You don’t have lungs though.”
“It’s - it’s the act, not the breathing.” His eyes flickered over them, the way their head tilted to the side. Bringing out a cigar, Eclipse flicked his lighter open. It felt wasteful now, without the desire for the spark, but still the calm rolled over him as the red embers began to wrap around the end of the cigar, smoke starting to wisp and roll into the air. They watched quietly, shuffling sideways to kneel on the sofa.
“...It is hypnotic, in a way,” they commented finally.
“In a way,” Eclipse agreed. “...Do you want to try it?”
“Like actually smoking it?”
“I’ve heard humans like it. Seen them smoking it. And cigars are meant to be better than cigarettes, more…flavour.”
The mechanic’s nose wrinkled, but they shuffled in closer, taking the cigar from offered hands. As ever, they put their trust in Eclipse’s palm to hold and protect, as they lifted the cigar to their lips, breathed in - and started choking immediately. Smoke spluttered out of their nose like a dying dragon, fitting to their wheezing. Eclipse patted them (not too firmly) on the back, waiting for the thick coughs to return to spluttering and then back to gulps of air.
“No,” they muttered, passing the cigar back. “No, absolutely not.”
The smoke and embers were extinguished fully by Eclipse’s palm, and he shoved the wasted tobacco back in his pocket. Small coughs continued to rise from the mechanic, eased by circles he drew on their back.
“If you have someone you can talk to, maybe you should,” he pressed the issue further. “I…didn’t. For a long time.”
“Hence the coping method of setting a little something on fire.” The small laugh wasn’t hearty, and the smile didn’t reach their eyes. But the fall of their shoulders wasn’t one of defeat. “Well, since I’m not the keenest on mild acts of arson, maybe I could…I don’t know. Talk a bit more.”
“It doesn’t have to be me,” Eclipse added. “Just someone.”
“...Thank you.” They folded into his arm, which settled around their waist. Now at least as the pair shared silence in the room, it was breathable.
"How long did you think you could hide that?" or "I'm sorry you had to see me like that." for so cries the wolf au!
Also BITE BITE BITES YOU /POS
BITING U BITING U EEEEEEEE THANK U
(cw injury)
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Your flashlight carved a beam of moonlight over the forest floor, turning leaves and pine-needles into lizards and hedgehogs. Every rustle made you hesitate, every crack of a twig made you pause and swing the light around, scouting out your surroundings. One time the light reflected into the pupils of a deer, who promptly bolted from its sleeping patch while you instinctively tensed up.
A slow cold crept up the back of your neck as you progressed. The shadows stretched around you, a trespasser in these woods so late at night. Familiar trees mocked you with alien surroundings. Your palms were sweating against the flashlight and staff you carried. Another crack had you turning quickly, only to see nothing.
Alone still.
But the cold remained. It crawled up your scalp, the lurking sensation of being watched. Your breath came out too fast, no matter how you controlled it. As you swallowed, the cold abruptly dropped down your neck and into your sweater.
Letting out a shrill yelp, you hopped away, swinging your flashlight up into Eclipse’s face. He reeled, batting at the light, and promptly tumbled from his ethereal wire to splat into the forest floor.
“You asshole,” you spluttered, pulling free the unfortunate frog that had been left to wriggle down your back.
“Worth it,” Eclipse croaked with a grin.
“Fuck you.”
“Language.”
“Seriously, Clip. We’re working tonight. I told Monty that it was fine for it just to be us two, do you want me to call him in?” You folded your arms as Eclipse’s shoulders ducked in, the threat of being admonished by the older demon sitting heavily on them as they pouted. Reasonably chided, Eclipse shrank back down to your level, although it was less to look at you and more to look beyond you. Seeing from your perspective. It didn’t always work but they liked to do it anyway, and it helped you feel more secure as you turned back around to examine the forest around you both.
There had been two actual reports of campsites being hassled in the middle of the night, and one very strongly resurging rumour about an entity with glowing red eyes being seen in the woods at night. If there was one thing to get cryptid hunters rattling in your direction at speed, it was the possibility of a mothman lurking around campers, and you were going to make sure whatever it was either got the better idea of swooping tents or got a large metal stick to the nose.
Whatever the response, you were certainly not going without an entourage and you had plenty of volunteers these days (although Sun and Moon enjoyed being outdoors but rathered that they didn’t get so directly involved in your business - being fixed from scratch once was enough). So tonight, it was Eclipse.
“You’ll probably want to go back up,” you explained to him. “If it is a mothman, they tend to be up in the trees a lot. You could get the jump on them by being up higher.”
“While leaving you rather vulnerable here on the floor if it’s not a mothman,” Eclipse replied.
“I’m fine. I’m hardy, I have the big stick, and I can call for you if I need to,” you said, giving him your best winning smile. They scrunched up their face, all four eyes squinting down at you before poking you on the nose.
“Cheeky,” they grumbled, before reaching overhead and swinging backwards up into the canopy. It never failed to unsettle you, the way he could ascend without any sign of the wire that carried him. But he called it a wire, so you would call it that too.
You were, however, already missing him. Logically you knew he was close by, but unable to see them? Your heart was already pawing at your chest like a sad cat. The forest didn’t give you a reprieve either, only an empty darkness.
Quietly you walked. If it had been silent before, it was a void now.
The forest was holding its breath.
Two feathery forms made a heavy impact right next to you on the path, nearly jolting the flashlight out of your hand. Scrabbling with the light, you reattached it to your backpack strap and flipped the staff over in your hand. Eclipse rolled across the dirt ground, the winged entity crouched on top of him with a wide maw open and showing off rows of teeth that would probably make Eclipse jealous. Massive moth wings with red crescent moons flickered in the light coming off your chest now, folding back as the mothman briefly turned to face you down. Massive red eyes gleamed and reflected back the light, the dark blue face cut through by a swathe of silver. He hissed low and deep at your face.
“Look, please get off my boy and let’s talk,” you said quietly. One hand raised in a calming motion, although that just earned you another warning hiss. “You’ve been causing a fair amount of trouble and-”
“Trespasser,” the voice rolled in your direction, sending cold up your back in a very unpleasant not-frog way.
“My woods, asshole,” you blurted back, holding the staff more upright. So much for talking this through. The mothman crouched low, preparing to spring for you and your light, only to receive two large feet directly into his chest as Eclipse rolled back upright. The two tumbled over each other, exchanging snaps of teeth and flailing curved claws to each other's faces and chests. Trying to separate them out into individual blurs of purple and blue was nearly impossible.
Gritting your teeth, you struck through regardless. Swinging the staff around and over to smack into the chin of the mothman.
“Get - off - my - boy!” you grunted as you drove the mothman back with each concussive swing. Harried backwards, he swiped for you instead, only to have the strike blocked by Eclipse’s hand pushing him down.
“Two on one is cheating!” the mothman snarled.
“Buddy, you picked this - ” You weren’t able to get much further as the mothman kicked his feet out at your chest, the massive fuzzy paws tipped in hooked talons that hooked into your jacket. A weightless swing lurched your stomach sideways before weightlessness swung you true as the mothman launched into the air, carrying you both into the sky. Eclipse’s voice shouted out your name from the forest floor, a panicked shout fading out of earshot far too quickly. Flipping the staff around in your hand, you jabbed up into the joint of the wing best in view. The mothman screeched back down, insulted by your attempt to fight back. Up became around, everything rotating head over heel as a third body slammed into the pair of you. Suddenly it was all about trying to keep yourself from being clawed apart by the entities sandwiching you.
One of Eclipse’s feet kicked into the staff, braced across your chest, abruptly knocking the last bits of air from your lungs. The mothman grunted, flailing across the sky, and your vision blurred hard as wood impacted hard into your back.
Pain screamed up the side of your hip, Your fingers scrabbled around, one hand desperately trying to find something to cling onto as your feet attempted to find a nearby branch for you to slide down onto. It was…far. Several splinters managed to bunch up your shirt and prickle up your waist before you found something sturdy enough to balance on, staff in one hand and cut palm pressed against the tree.
As quickly as the fight had started, it had passed. Leaning against the tree trunk, you held your breath to try and listen out for any sound of the two clashing cryptids.
Silence. The trees creaked around you, pine needles and leaves rustling.
Slowly you slotted the fire staff back into its packing, slinging it over onto your back. With the light of the flashlight still barely flickering and holding onto your backpack, you had some way to navigate your way down the tree. Every possible swish or rustle that could be a returning mothman had your head snapping around attentively, light swinging wide and illuminating the empty neighbouring trees.
Then the light reflected back from large amber eyes and you had to hold back an aggressive shout.
“Careful,” Eclipse growled out, easily clambering into the boughs of your tree, the branches embracing them as they in turn embraced you.
“Sorry,” you replied. It was so easy to fold yourself into Eclipse’s chest, your hands finding purchase among the feathers. Black smudges stained your palms, mixing with the red. “Is he gone?”
“Mmm, flew away. Probably not coming back.” Okay, that wasn’t too bad. “You were very…protective, back there.” Eclipse’s arms tucked under your legs, easily lifting you into a secure grip.The trees began to ascend around the pair of you, pirouetting and sliding from branch to branch.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” you said softly. “I much rather be able to talk these things through. But he was aggressive and - “
“He bit me several times. I think the returning blows were well deserved on his part,” Eclipse grunted. “Plus - “ Their smile nuzzled into the back of your neck, promptly earning a round of ticklish giggles from you. “ - it’s cute to see you being protective.”
“Oh?”
“My boy.” His hands gripped you tighter. “Am I rubbing off on you, sweet pup?”
“Pfft, I was always protective of you. Even when you were being a dick,” you replied with a soft laugh. The fondness cut through the pain still ebbing through your back and waist, and you allowed yourself to remain folded into Eclipse’s arms until finally their feet touched back to solid ground.
Surprise jolted you as you spotted the lights of the cabin ahead through the trees.
“You took us back?” you blurted out from confusion.
“Mothman gone. Job done. Why bother walking?” he replied, even now still carrying you towards the cabin. You gave a small wiggle, unwilling to go through the lack of dignity of being carried (again) into your home, only for the pain in your waist to flare aggressively. Breath stolen from your lungs, you gasped and curled inwards. For a brief few seconds the world was only you, pain, and the walls of feathers around you.
Eclipse’s murmur roused your attention. He’d been still for a while, you realised that now.
“You’re hurt,” he rumbled.
“I’m fine,” you lied. “Put me down, I can walk back.”
They did the opposite. Instead their hands tightened around you, pressure on the mote of pain that made you writhe and dig your fingernails into his chest. Eclipse hissed in return, buckling just a moment, as you both entered the front door light.
“You two have seen worse days.”
Montague and Moon both looked over the pair of you, one disappointed and one concerned. Eclipse quietly lowered you to the ground, where Moon took your dizzy hands and ushered you inside.
“It honestly looks worse than it is,” you told Montague. “We’ve had way worse scrapes and cuts from an aggressive mothman.”
“You have a hole in your side.”
Before you could question what Moon was talking about, he pressed his palm against your waist and pain flared again, causing you to cower away from the touch. Turning his palm up, Moon showed the blood smears to your face.
Ah.
Before your knees could decide whether or not to give out, Eclipse’s hands were cupping under your legs again, not fully lifting you up but cradling you carefully as they manoeuvred you over to one of the new taller dining stools. Moon was already going for the first aid kit, Montague huffing as he nosed at the injury.
“How long did you think you could hide that?” he asked sharply.
“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know it was there?” you replied just as bluntly, swinging bats at each other. Montague’s ears flattened, before he licked his nose and laid his head on your thigh with a low sigh. You apologised in kind, rubbing carefully at one of his ears.
Eclipse settled on the floor next to you - one hand on your back, another on your shoulder, and two on your hips. The palms steadied you as Moon lifted up your jumper, your backpack having been removed way before the door and discarded shortly after. You braced for the needle sting of the septic wipe, but it still made you jolt when the cold damp fabric came into contact with the bloodied hole. Eclipse’s hands promptly flexed, holding you still.
“What happened?” Moon asked softly.
“Found the mothman. He was kind of an asshole, and started fighting us,” you explained through gritted teeth. “Tossed me into a tree.”
“Could have been a branch impaled you then,” Montague murmured.
“Nothing like a little impalement to end out the night then.” Eclipse’s low warning rolled over your spine, their face pressed into the side opposite to Moon. Reaching awkwardly around, you placed your hand against his shoulder, and his hand found yours in turn. The night wasn’t quite over yet.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
So Cries the Wolf - Chapter 10
Summary: Eclipse and Montague ensure plans to help look after you during your recovery rest, and you admit to the reasons of your cold shoulder against Eclipse. Finally you begin to put into play a plan to recover Sun and Moon, and free Eclipse of the animatronic's tethers.
Word Count: 8604
a touch prompt from @pure-plum
"5. feeling their pulse"
feat. @naffeclipse's Bounty Hunter!Eclipse and a sequel to this prompt. be aware this drabble contains violence and major injury
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Anyone who deigned to shake the rotten underbelly of the city was bound to get a target on their back. Small or large, constant or wavering like the river tide, there would inevitably be someone coming after you. Depending on how much shaking you did, you could end up with a small number of very dedicated guns trained on you, waiting for the opportune moment, or you could end up with a large number of people unaware of the danger they were about to run into.
Eclipse did a lot of shaking. Not large and heavy-hitting, like the vigilante, making the rot tremble and fall in their wake. He did his own swathes of small concentrated jabs, steadily burning weeds that grew from cracks in the concrete.
For the longest time, he had the benefit that anyone who decided that he had slighted them to the point of retaliation would only be coming after him. His brothers were, in a way, protected by the distance that they had built between themselves and their brother. Even as this distance was slowly being broken down, Eclipse maintained the illusion of separation. There wouldn’t be any involvement of that sort in his brothers’ lives, not in the past and not now.
There was also the protection that came with the way that he carried out his business. On a normal day, he would quite casually come out of a hole with blood across his hands. So if someone decided to hit anyone close to him, then his wrath would have been dealt exponentially.
It meant he wasn’t prepared for anyone to be ruthless and gutless enough to make a step after a figure that he’d allowed to be close.
So when he arrived at the mechanic’s door to find it loose and open, the cold shock of surprise punched twice as hard.
The inside had been tossed around, put mildly. A couple of the larger stools had been knocked over, a drawer of tools emptied on the floor. Most importantly, the room was empty of life. Eclipse took a step inside and his shoe skidded for a brief second, liquid underfoot. He glanced down, and found puddles of prismatic black flecked by splatters of red, all close within the immediate space of the door. His gaze slid up, and saw more red across the edge of the door itself. Fingers trailed up, smearing the beads of red along by the slow, methodical movement.
Everything was red in that moment. Red burning against his optics, red burning in his servos, overheating and whirring at furious speed. Clenching his fist, Eclipse slammed it into the wall beside the door frame, leaving brick dust to crumble like ashes.
He pulled back. Stared into the empty room, sweeping the surface with a cold gaze.
Considering the knocked over furniture, there’d definitely been a scuffle. At least two or three other people, enough to overwhelm the mechanic in little time. Maybe tossed over the stools to get to them, while they dumped the drawer to slow down their attackers, but to no avail. Too many, too quickly. The scrum was over and done with before more damage could be done. As they were brought to the door, they’d lashed out. An animatronic took the hit. With the amount of oil, it was a grievous hit or an old injury that easily split. But then the animatronic or one of the capturers retaliated on them, before they were taken outside.
Eclipse was quite good at putting threads together. He watched the picture unfold, saw a familiar face among the ghosts of events that had taken place. Quietly turning on his heel, he put the tiny ‘Closed’ card in the window and shut the door behind him, letting the locks fall into place.
This wasn’t even him going to work. This was him having to clock in overtime. And unlike the majority population that hated overtime, Eclipse intended to make the most of this for his own satiation.
-
The goon that answered the knocking door had the brief chance to look a touch surprised before Eclipse grabbed him by the face, dragging him into the dark outdoors and slamming him into the wall. His other hand snatched away the pistol from the goon’s shaking hand as he tried to pull it out the holster.
“Where’s my mechanic?” Eclipse asked, voice low as he leaned up closer to the goon.
“What?”
Eclipse pressed the barrel of the goon’s own pistol into his stomach and felt the breathing get faster over his hand.
“Th-They’re in the basement, near the boiler room. One of those spare rooms, but the guards will - “ The gunshot was muffled by the goon’s body, bullet ripping through his stomach. Eclipse pulled a handkerchief out of the goon’s pocket, shoving it into his mouth to stem the heaving pained wheezes, and dropped him on the ground before stepping inside. Maybe he’d still be alive by the time Eclipse returned. He knew he wouldn’t last beyond sunrise at the very least.
The building was barely metal beams and brick squeezed into mortar, bare walls carrying any trace of sound from one corridor to the next. Eclipse passed by empty door-frames with rooms of boxes, desks with stacks of files or papers, blank rooms of shelving waiting for smuggled goods or crates of fire-arms.
Well. Inevitably when word got back to the precinct, they would deal with the clean-up and reap the rewards of this gang hideout.
Another goon stepped out into the corridor, an animatronic with an unfortunately blank face that turned in Eclipse’s direction. He’d already raised the pistol he’d borrowed, firing twice into the animatronic’s torso and once into their face. The burnt out servo sizzled and spat before he stepped into the cracked porcelain, crushing any wiring and activity underfoot.
By now the gunfire echoes were rattling down every corridor of the building. Eclipse emptied the pistol cartridge and dumped it on the floor, casing and chunky metal clattering on the ground. Instead he unhooked the tommy gun off his shoulder, flicking off the safety and holding it at his hip.
Footsteps, hard and fast, made the telltale call of someone hurrying up from a turning ahead. The human fell quickly under a barrage of bullets, scattering red across the grey wall. Eclipse turned down that corridor, stretching the sanguine paint down the path behind him and casting another spray of ruby from the back of the next goon to step into view.
Two animatronics attempted to jump him from behind, failing to take into account how the sound bounced and warned him before they took their chance. One took three bullets to the neck, messily severing the head from the metal body, which Eclipse then used to slam into the face of their buddy. Stunned and reeling backwards, they were open to Eclipse swinging up a hard kick to the hinge at their abdomen and knocking them over. This time he separated the head by stomping down hard with his heel on the more delicate neck of this animatronic, listening to it crack apart as the exposed broken wires popped in the air.
The flight of stairs he found led both up and down. Any lighting down here was minimal and orange. As Eclipse started to descend, waves of hot air breezed up from below, making his coat swirl back in his trail. It reminded him of the way books and people spouted off about Hell and various peoples’ inevitable fall into it, as punishment for their wickedness.
It was possible that Hell did not exist for animatronics. He would make one if necessary.
There was just the one wide corridor at the bottom of the stairs. Eclipse paused, listening intently for any sounds of feet coming up behind him or shuffling out of sight from the further empty doorways. But all there was to hear was the faint rumble and hiss of the boiler room.
He shuffled forward. Moving slower, quieter. Yellow pupils flickered from doorway to doorway, searching. Hunting. Each stride carried past another empty room. His toothy grimace curved into a snarl as the red burned brighter.
And there they were.
Eclipse darted into the room, dropping down to one knee as he immediately lifted their head up within the palm of his hand. They were handcuffed to a pipe, one leg stretched out and a tourniquet of bloodied cloth tied tight around the limb. More blood had trickled from their head, dried in streaks down their cheek. Eyes shut and form uselessly limp, they moulded under Eclipse’s touch as he sat them up and pressed his fingers underneath their neck.
There. A pulse. Low and wavering, but there. He leaned his forehead against their’s, feeling the steady ticking of their life force under his hand as the waves of red started to recede from his servo. Only once he could lean back without the crushing desire to curl his fingers in and hold desperately, did he rock back on his heels and take one more look over them.
There was too much blood. They were positively drenched in it, a ruby scarf over their shoulders and sanguine painting their trousers, a ruined blush and faded lips. Rolling up their trouser leg, Eclipse eyed the thick red hole sunk into the skin, matched by an exit wound in the other side. Good, he wouldn’t be digging anything out of their flesh. But their coagulated blood still coated his hands and fingers, smeared on his coat as he reached up and snapped the handcuffs in two. As he lifted them up into his arms, he watched them shift and whine, more sparks of life through weak human noises. Like a newly born kitten. It was pitiful to watch, and he wanted nothing more than to have them back to squabbling, fretting, and laughing with him.
“I know you’re stubborn enough,” he murmured to them. “You won’t go down with a fight.”
“Eclipse?” Their eyes didn’t open but they heard him, knew him. His grip tightened, turning and sweeping out of the room.
A familiar face stood, blocking the stairs and flanked by several other goons. His painted face a leer, one of his legs wrapped up in bandages that showed black blooming stains. Eclipse had asked his mechanic to fix him, of course they would have known where to strike and make it hurt.
“I’m surprised you took so long,” the animatronic mocked. “We were wondering if-”
The tommy gun roared into the spiel, Eclipse cutting through any further acid dripping words with bullets that tore through the animatronic’s chest plate, shredding their finely made suit and ripping apart the metal below. He buckled and fell without further speech, limbs briefly jerking as Eclipse emptied the rest of his clip into the body.
In the hollow stillness that followed, he ejected the cartridge, lifted a new one out of his pocket, and slotted it into place. All still with his mechanic secure in his arms.
Eclipse’s blackened gaze swept over the goons that trembled in their places. They fell like cards, blown away by the wind. And bullet holes.
There was nothing to relish here. He’d come for what had been taken. He barely even cared how his bounty had already left the jail cells - some form of “good behaviour” in the shape of copious bribery, no doubt. He’d squandered his chance of a continued existence by putting his hands on what was Eclipse’s and spilling their sweet ruby red.
Stepping over the bodies in front of the stairway, Eclipse hurried up and through the corridors, retracing his steps back to the door he’d entered by. The man he’d left outside to bleed out had tried to crawl inside, and Eclipse didn’t care to check his stride as his foot crunched into the human’s hand on his way out.
Once more he shifted the body in his arms, tilting their head back so he could check their pulse. It was neither weaker nor stronger, a steady and faint rhythm. Slowly his fingers slid around the back of their neck, thumb still pressed on their pulse, pulling them in close as his shoulder dipped to curl around them.
Mine. The thought hit with such clarity that a shudder ran through Eclipse. A puff of steam spat out the back of his neck as he slowly straightened up, letting go of the mechanic’s neck to nudge stray hairs away from their face.
They needed immediate medical attention. The nearest hospital was an hour's walk. His brothers’ apartment was only half of that time in distance. They didn’t have the same equipment, but if Eclipse carried their mechanic into a hospital in his current state there would be more panicked questions than action. There’d be attention, possibly separation. But the hospital could be trusted to make sure his mechanic would be getting up by the next day. His brothers would find out one way or another about what he’d done to get his raven back.
Eclipse started walking.
