#police chief!eclipse

[naffeclipse]

Dance, Detective, Dance

Detective!Reader x Police Chief!Eclipse

Commission Info

Who's ready for some dancing with Police Chief!Eclipse? I had a delightful time writing this darling little fic which was requested by Anonymous. The detective reader must navigate a situation they truly do not want to be in and are ultimately rescued by a very dashing Eclipse. Now, time to hit the dance floor.

———

This is not where you’re meant to be.

The candlelight twinkle of the capitol building’s chandeliers cast the ballroom floor in gentle, romantic lightning. The marble columns of the great architecture build a grandness to the politics and party tonight. Men, women, human and animatronic alike, flutter around the space in bird-like trillings of socialization. The suits are finely pressed and the gowns are exuberant and shimmering. The large, photo-ready smiles mean nothing to you. Though fellow officers mingle among public workers and rich city members, you stand deliberately away from the conversations in a shady nook against the wall.

You must remind yourself to unfurrow your brow lest you stand with a perpetual scowl on your face for the rest of the night. This should not be mandated as part of your job—a charity ball, put on by your police precinct no less. Your time is better spent pooling over castfiles and running down streets to locate criminals. 

You tug at the collar of your formal attire, dark and fitted for a black-tie event. The weight of your gun rests heavily on your hip, hidden beneath your clothes. You wish you could stroke it, hold it in your hands, and count the rounds. The number of bullets inside the clip is branded in your mind, but the routine is grounding. But, your hands lie empty and repeatedly clench.

The night has worn on. This has been your service for the evening. You can excuse yourself on the basis that you’re needed back at your desk to study the recent string of crimes the Celestial Gang conducted. Surely that’s better spent time than standing here, stuck in fancy clothes that do little to make you more approachable.

The door. Your eyes have been returning to it constantly in the last hour. You could piece together what’s been eating away at you about the last rival gang slaying. What are the Celestial Gang building up to? Why suddenly strike so hard and fast at enemies? Do they simply have more confidence or is there something moving in the underground, dark and silent as a reaper?

This is enough. You’re going back to work. You step out of the shadow alcove you’ve lurked in all evening. Shoulders hunched as you begin to slip between oblivious attendees of the charity ball, you keep your eyes on the door. Single-mindedly, you weave towards the exit without seeing one face or hearing a voice in the crowd’s babble.

Someone emerges at the top of the grand staircase to the left of the doors. A familiar figure, tall and lithe and adorned in sun rays, descends the steps.

You stop in a crowd. Eyes drawn up, you stare at the police chief.

Eclipse. You’ve never seen him so sleek and sharp in a tuxedo of deep crimson. He fixes his bow tie with deft fingers, his eyes lifting to the crowd as if he’s lost something. His expression is intent, unsatisfied as he searches for the brief moment it takes for his gaze to swiftly land upon you.

Your lips part for an inexplicable reason. To call out to him. To explain why you’re making a beeline for the door. Say hello before you tell him goodbye. You have no answer. No words slip from your lips as he holds your stare as if you were the only person standing in the room.

His canary yellow optics brighten. His hands fall, softly opening in a gesture that seems to invite you closer. The police chief tilts his head. He finishes descending the steps as you push through the crowd—not to escape the ball but to meet him at the foot of the staircase.

He says your name softly in a manner you consider dangerous.

“Eclipse,” you greet, though it’s unnatural to say his name while the two of you are very much not alone. Yet, the crowd leaves you two in a pocket of privacy, unaware and unconcerned with a commanding officer and his subordinate.

Music pulls on strings, echoing in the air. Dancers begin to meet and pair behind you on the polished dance floor. Eclipse’s eyes briefly stray to the live music conducting the beginning of a couple’s dance, but his black pupils return to you. 

“Where are you going?” He reaches out and touches the sleeve of your clothes, smoothing down a non-existent wrinkle. 

“Out,” you answer, almost shoving it between your teeth. “I have work to do.”

His grin tightens like glass crunching in on itself. His fingertips slip further down your arm, trailing carefully over the sleeve that’s far too stiff for your liking to loosely encircle your wrist. He keeps you in place.

“You are expected to remain for the entirety of the charity ball; the same as every officer in attendance.” He speaks with the firmness of authority.

You narrow your eyes. He meets you unyieldingly. Your fist clenches just underneath his large, dark hand.

“I need to go over the case files from last week. I can’t stand here all night.” You look out over the band playing, accompanying dancers as they step and twirl. The bodies are organized yet chaotic in their colors and energies. A few people are laughing and others are stone-cold serious, focused on the rhythm while others kiss their partner.

“Detective, you can last one night at a social event.” His voice gravels low, almost touching a note of mirth.

His thumb slides down the bones of your hand, caressing your skin softly. A shiver subtly works its way up your spine. You turn back to face him. A stubborn argument crawls upon your lips but you stop short.

The police chief is strangely quiet. No, distracted. His eyes roam up and down your person. You stand frozen under his inspection. You dressed appropriately. He can’t fault you for improper attire but you can’t unravel the motive for his silence. His expression deepens into something soft. His optic lights dust you gently with his attention.

The strange exchange prompts your study of the police chief. He’s never been one to slack in his appearance nor fail to dress for the occasion. There is an undeniable charm to how the tuxedo looks on him. His fingertips are soft against the pulse on the inside of your wrist. The deep crimson color compliments his maroon and indigo sun rays.

A beat passes. Eclipse finds your eyes again.

“You look exquisite, sweetheart.” The note of affection in his tone sends a weakness into your knees.

“I’m not staying,” you say. Eclipse knows better than to charm you—though you must breathe to regain the feeling in your legs. “Even if I will miss seeing you look so sharp and spiffy.”

“Thank you,” his voice is low and gravelly. It echoes him finding you late at night, working at your desk, and walking you halfway to your home. A voice greeting you first thing in the morning with a cup of coffee. A question of concern, wondering if you’ve had enough sleep lately.

He holds out his other hand. The hold he has on your wrist is loose, soft and so unlike the coldness of handcuffs you’ve experienced before. You’re reminded again of his relation to the Celestial Gang mob bosses. Though what happened to separate Eclipse from his brothers and lead them down such different paths eludes you. You don’t pry. You won’t ask him to give it all up. 

He is not his brothers.

“Since you must stay here, we can make use of your presence.” His fingers unfurl. His dark digits and silicon palm wait before you. Like an offer of hope. Like an invitation to sneak away, just the two of you. His optics are lower in light. “Won’t you dance with me, Detective?”

You stare at the offering. A weak stirring begins within you. You tilt your head back to hold his gaze.

“I can’t dance.” You have the bluntness of a hammer. He knows this. He has always known this.

Eclipse’s grin remains unwavering. 

“I’ll lead.”

The music swells to a final jazzed ending. Couples drift apart and shuffle, and others stay perfectly together, waiting for the next song.

This is dangerous. Your hand falls into his. Him leading you deeper onto the dance floor to lose yourselves in the crowd and yet, find all the privacy. 

“Stand on my feet,” he says.

“You’ll regret this,” you warn him gently for his own sake. You fix your shoes upon him, scuffing up the shiny black polish but Eclipse doesn’t even glance down. His optics are firmly fastened on your gaze.

He chuckles low within his metaphorical throat. The first twirl begins, and you are perfectly safe upon his footwork. If anyone notices that you’re not truly putting in effort, allowing Eclipse to lead and put in all the moves, no one says anything. No one truly looks at you. All the politicians officers and city workers are engrossed in their dramas. You almost feel as if you were alone with Eclipse.

The music slips over you. The string cords and the waltz rhythm of the instruments tug you both along. Eclipse effortlessly weaves and carries you through the people, his attention tilted down to hold you in his vision while the room spins at the edges. You stare into his optics. Yellow with pinpricks of black. His smile is softening at the edges, his sharp teeth less visible in his focus.

“How do you know how to dance?” you ask, your interrogation voice coming through full force.

Eclipse tilts his head. A glint in his gaze gives way to something you can’t help but find unusual for the police chief.

“Personal interest and a need to fulfill certain duties a police chief must uphold such as appearing at public events. Especially for an animatronic,” his voice is gravelly.

To be charming and capable in every manner, to have to give even more than a human would in his position. Your hands clench his as he cuts through the space, leading your clasped hands like a wedge through the masses. Your grip tightens upon him. A burn sets in your chest, hot and spitting.

“You don’t have to dance,” you say, “Not with me.”

“I know,” he says softly. His voice lowers. “It’s a shame I don’t see you like this more often.”

You grimace as you glance down at yourself.  “These clothes are too stuffy. Who could chase a criminal down in this?”

Eclipse’s smile is poignant as he remarks, “It’s a very good thing you’re not on active duty tonight then.”

A sound between a huff and a growl escapes your mouth. Eclipse twirls you in a motion that leaves your head spinning slowly until you remember to focus on his eyes. His light is constant through the movement of his practiced swaying. 

You fight the urge to close your eyes and rest your head on his chest. His height gives you the perfect advantage to rest against him. You might be tired. The entire social event has sucked you dry and now you’re stuck in a slow whirl with the police chief. It’s difficult to remember that you wanted to leave only a few moments ago.

“Eclipse, I have to go,” you say over the ringing of the music. You’re getting distracted. You feel weak, held up by him so tenderly. His hand presses into the small of your back as he shifts you in his arms. 

“Would it kill you to spend an evening with me, looking so fine, and dancing?” His eyes burn low. You can’t look away.

“Maybe.” He doesn’t let you loose, so you must grit your teeth and admit, “I dance and wear nice clothes only for you.”

Eclipse grins. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, and his movements grow stronger. 

You cling tighter to him. Held flush against his chassis and fine suit, you watch the room twist upon itself. Eclipse draws you in and out, and he carefully stops to gently set you back on your feet. You immediately freeze like a wild animal set in a civilized place. Before you can succumb to your failure of not knowing a single dance, Eclipse takes your hand and lifts your arm above your head. Pressing your shoulder softly, he guides you into a soft spin upon your toes. You almost stumble. He holds you steady.

Then he takes you by the waist, holding you tight as he dips you low. You’re parallel to the floor, parallel to the police chief's smile as he hovers above you. You both hide below the crowd. The music swells.

His mouth has never been closer. You don’t realize how much your chest heaves, your heart alive in your ribcage as if amid a shoot-out, but it’s him. It’s only him. A smokey-amber scent fills your senses. He’s so close, and you drown in him.

Eclipse gently lowers himself closer. His optics flash between your eyes and your lips. You breathe out. Your eyelids flutter close—

And gunshots ring out.

Your eyes fly open and Eclipse’s optics flare. People scream. The stringed instruments cut off with abrupt notes souring the air. In a blur of a second, Eclipse pulls you back onto your feet. You whirl around, your hand upon your gun and freeing it from its concealed holster. 

The doors are wide open, held by men in dark attire as more shots ring out, thrumming out of Thompson machine guns. Gleeful criminals stare down at the panicking charity ball. You step forward. Eclipse's hand falls on your shoulder, pulling you back just as a politician in a suit dashes right in front of you. Eclipse’s grip tightens on your collarbone.

The gangsters glance around, lowering their weapons. Screams of panic ring out again but the gunfire stops—they have everyone’s attention.

“Eclipse,” you utter. Your finger is careful on the trigger. There are too many civilians. The boldness of crashing a party in the heart of the capital building leaves you seething.

“The Celestial Gang,” his voice lowers. He knows. You both know.

Henchmen step aside and hold open the doors to the dark, cool night. Dressed in fine suits, sharp and oily as finger-rubbed gold, the mob bosses of the most feared gang in the city step into the ballroom. They hold guns in their hands, gleaming cold and dark. Their eyes, gray and pale, and red and black, cut through the panicking people. 

Eclipse is half-frozen beside you. He steps forward, placing himself between you and the mob bosses. His brothers.

Your eyes dart around the room. The people have crowded against the far wall. Other officers have drawn their weapons. You glare down the animatronics bearing the themes not unlike the police chief, one of a pale yellow sun, and the other of a dark and silvery moon.

“Oh, Moon, I hope we’re not too late to the party,” Sun announces. His fingers stroke the trigger of his gun. His mouth curls sinisterly. “It’s so nice to see all the elites of this rotten city celebrating their charity.”

“Look, brother,” Moon tips his dark hat at you. “We’re just in time.”

You grit your teeth where you stand, and glare back.

“I think you’re right.” Sun laughs, cold and chilling against the marbled columns. His attention rests on you, hungry with avarice.

Moon lifts his gun into the air and smiles with sharp teeth. He announces, “We will be stealing the detective for a dance.”

[solunest]

Three Eclipses bring their three Y/Ns and they have a field day together. Vigilante is picking at their cuffs, Little Sleuth desires to shoot the other Eclipses, and Bartender is tryna mediate their Eclipse. Some are more successful than others.

~~~~~

Mafia Boss!Eclipse and Vigilante Y/N (far left) are from @naffeclipse

Police Chief!Eclipse and Detective Y/N (middle) are from me

Bodyguard!Eclipse and Bartender Y/N are from @certified-handler

~~~~~

Dialogue in case my handwriting is dogwater-

MB; “You’re so pathetic, restraining your desires.”

PC; “I-no?? What do you do, act on every intrusive thought?”

MB; “YES.”

PC; “W-Why-?!”

BG; “MB has a point, PC. If you really want to keep your Y/N. You gotta keep ‘em.”

PC; “I am starting to see why your Y/N’s are currently unhappy...”

and in smol => PC; “Pls, put away your gun, LS (Little Sleuth)-”

[naffeclipse]

OH THEM!!! AHHHH! I will never be normal about your Eclipse expressions, you bring all of his dastardly faces to life—and Police Chief Eclipse!! I love to see him in your art style ahhh ;-; I also adore the poses with Moon, he's so shaped in your art lasjfdlasdf

I absolutely do not mind! I actually love seeing a tag from you *smooch ya on the head*

Thank you so much for sharing! ♥

Sighs 💖💖💖 oh Sleuth Jesters beloved… rip Sun tho it’s always detective Moon and Eclipse

Sleuth jesters written by @naffeclipse I really hope you don’t mind the amount I tag you ‘:) I try to compile the drawings into bigger posts but I really do be drawing them all the time <333

I need to do more scenes instead of just drawing eclipse standing there looking devious lmao. Also ignore the weird physics of the table moon leans on

[o-cinnamonstickz]

Blood spatters, like scarlet stars, dot your hardened face.

But when I cup your cheek to clean, a new shade takes it’s place.

[justfangirlstuffs]

THE FINAL CHAPTER IS HERE AT LAST!!!

Story summary: You are just a humble tinkerer of animatronics trying to make their way in a city that doesn't care if you live or die. However, two infamous mob bosses have taken a rather keen interest in your skills, making your life a little more complicated than you'd like. Sun and Moon are determined to have you under their rule, but you won't bow so easily.

Chapter summary: It all comes to a head, and you're caught smack dab in the center of it.

[naffeclipse]

MALEWIFE MATERIAL.

He would have taken you home to cook dinner but you never let him take you home smh

[naffeclipse]

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT

THANKS, IT'S PERFECT

I LOVE SEEING ALL THE ECLIPSE BOYS LIKE THIS IT'S SO SILLY BUT HILARIOUS ALSDJFASLJFASD

Mafia Boss!Eclipse deserves the bullying

Thank you so much for sharing! ♥

Bully the Mob Boss!Eclipse, he's a loser~

Featuring Cryptid, Mer, Chief and Hunter.

@naffeclipse 's boys

Cryptid and Mer boys design by @themeeplord

Original meme by an ask (sorry i literally can't find your username p-p)

[solunest]

Random question(s) from a thought. I know HCFIQ Eclipse can drive and Heavenly can’t, but can the Celestial twins drive? And if so, do either of them like driving? What roads would they like to drive on (curvy, straight, uphill, downhill, lots of turns, no turns, etc. etc.)? Do they get motion sickness (yes I know they’re robots but still)? Do they like to listen to music while riding/driving?

How do they handle someone else driving? Do they prefer a safer driver or one who takes a bit of risk? How safe do they like to drive? Do they race down the streets if possible without being caught or drive casually? Do they prefer riding up front or in the back? Limousine-like car or personal vehicle for just the two of them plus some weapons? How much trust do they place in another driver?

Same for Eclipse?

Anyways just some thoughts.

(Sorry for throwing a load of questions at you all at once, but driving is something that a lot of people feel differently about. How one approaches driving can speak volumes just as much as how one dresses and how one talks.)

Alright, I dedicated THOUGHT to this one. Including some lore that isn't shown in the fic, but I have notes about for some reason ^^; (i went digging y'all)

This is a whole schpeal;

Alright, obviously in the TFP AU, they obviously can't drive. But, in the original, as mentioned, Eclipse had gotten his custom car around the time he became chief, as a gift. Around this time, Sun and Moon are freshly recovering from the burning of the Daycare. Looking for Eclipse, wondering where he disappeared off to, and like...it took them a week or so since they weren't familiar with the layout of the city and were very paranoid, but it was the day he received his car. Can you imagine that? Seeing your older brother who abandoned you, finely dressed, in a position of power, not a scratch on him, and the mayor heartily gifting him the keys to a fashionable car? Just ignore the fact that his rays are shrunken in, fear and haunt shadowing his exhausted posture, the man is living fat while you're shivering homeless and near decommissioned where you stood.

So, naturally, Sun and Moon, when they're at their positions of powers, in their flashy clothes and riches, they, of course, splurged on vehicles. They have more than one, actually they have five. Each brother has one flashy fancy car and a more discrete car. Then the fifth one is a limousine that both of them can use. They're all animatronic grade cars, so if they (begrudgingly) have a human associate in one of their vehicles, they're guaranteed to make fun of them for not fitting properly.

They're an animatronic only syndicate. The brothers have a very clear vision for what they want to stand for in this mafia, of which then they have very heavy biases for animatronics. Protocol Free animatronics come from hard lives, as the Celestial brothers have, and they have banded together on that fact alone. Yes, they trust them to drive them places. They also have learned how to drive, purely to spite Eclipse.

I wouldn't call it motion sickness, but when they first started out, they were very scared. This is around their ascension, so they couldn't really show it, but the twins were shook. Now, they sometimes flaunt their wealth and power with their cars if they're moving downtown to wherever, if it's not important. If it is, they'll use the discrete vehicles, but the interiors are very lavish. They take their time driving, never in a hurry, both with tastes of music playing on the radio. If they're late to a meeting with outside associates (who are usually human), they'll taunt them about what they'd do about it. The cars, aside from animatronic treats and drinks, are of course, stashed with weapons.

Eclipse is a different story. He owns one car and does his best to preserve the mint condition, since it is a gift from a kind friend who wishes well for him. He was a nervous wreck learning how to drive, almost refusing help before, but later had asked helped from said friend, and learned a lot more efficiently. He didn't really get to properly enjoy driving it, really using it to get from his old apartment to work. That was, until he started taking you to missions and meetings, because he'd take scenic routes just to explain things and watch your eyes light up and ask your small questions.

Anyways! I love these questions, don't hesitate to ask me more :3

[sunnys-aesthetic]

i’ve been thinking about this so much since i read about how you said mafia boss eclipse fell down a rabbit hole and his infected side uses the affection sun and moon have against vigilante (which btw with the purple text and everything i just *starts shaking you*) so i wonder if eclipse would still become a crime lord if he wasn’t infected?? like, was that an inevitability or more so circumstance?? what was his personality like before he went off the deep end?? was he less dangerous and possessive, or is he just Like That?? sorry i could just ask endless questions about him bc as deranged and violent as he is, i love him dearly and i want to fix him👁👁

-It was a hard mix of both inevitability AND circumstance!!!

-His personality before he went off the deep end was drastically different, hes was an extremely nurturing and patient person, and took care of a lot of people. During his time as the police chief he was literally the one robot whom both human and robot officers respected and would never talk back to, he was literally that respected. He was a very good man until he was forcibly driven insane. He only ever had two bots in particular under his wing and many were slightly jealous of sun and moon for it. But what could they do?

PLEASE do send questions!! id love to answer them!!

[naffeclipse]

Hehehe, I can see that ♥ Oh gosh, not even an additional five inches can change the fact that Eclipse is crazy tall (but ahhh, he does think it's adorable ♥)

Awww, Luce, you draw the best expressions! Your choice of colors is always *mwah*

New boots make me feel tall but that experience would be rather limited with Eclipse around >:| (affectionate)

@naffeclipse I continue being normal about him

[piixelpaint]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @naffeclipse​!!! Happy Birthday to you, one of our very favourite writers in this wholesome fandom!! ☀️🌙

You have gathered hundreds of people around your exciting stories, making us hold our breath each time we read a new chapter you post. You inspire each of us to create our own stories, drawings, animations, to bring something of our own to this fandom. And you helped us find new mutual friends within it, with whom we may sometimes chat for hours on end. You yourself have become one of said mutual friends and it is always such a pleasure to write to you!

You are simply fantastic and we all sincerely wish you the best Birthday that one could have, knowing that you bring so much joy and inspiration to others!

// All credits and more under the cut! Please, do take a look! :) //

Unfortunately, we could not invite all the people who appreciate your writings to participate in this collaboration, as much as we wanted to. This was our first time organizing something like this, and we needed to limit the number of people. But, Naff, I think you yourself know very well that there are hundreds of people in this fandom who sincerely love you and your work and that this art piece would be much bigger if all of them took part in it :)  And on that note, a huge thank you to everyone who agreed to participate! Regardless of busyness and time zone differences, we all worked together and were able to finish this wonderful art piece!

Full List of Credits: Characters In Deep Dreams Between the Waves Mer-Eclipse - @themeeplord  Fisher Y/N - @pure-plum

Sleuth Jesters & AUs Detective Sun - @zelda7999 Detective Moon - @kibbits  Mafia Boss Eclipse - @miwachan2 Vigilante Y/N - @pure-plum Police Chief Eclipse - @lavenoon  Detective Y/N - @cero-sleep

Cryptid Sightings Cryptid Sun/Moon - @sillysaysnonsense Hunter Y/N - @lavenoon 

Double Toil and Trouble Demon Familiar Sun - @solitary-star Demon Familiar Moon - @chaotikanvas  Witch Y/N - @sanchensky Demon Familiar Eclipse - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon

The Writer Naff - @piixelpaint

Layout @themeeplord, @sanchensky, @piixelpaint & everyone for their great ideas and feedback!

BG & Comp @pure-plum

Organizers @piixelpaint & @sanchensky​

Special Thanks To Plum, who gave me (Piixel) the confidence to start this whole thing after I pitched it to her x)

___ Quick note from Piixel: This was honestly such a fun project to work on and to all my fellow collaborators, I have to give a massive thanks!!✨ You really made this project and this seriously couldn’t have come to fruition without your willingness, patience and seamless cooperation. So from the bottom of my heart, Thank you guys so so much!!

And for you, dearest Naff, I think this really shows how wonderful a community you’ve built around you! Not only with your masterful writing and charming stories, but also by being such a sweet, kind and giving person.

So here’s to you, Naff! Happy Birthday, babe! 🥳🎉❤️❤️❤️

(Closeups below ;)

[kriimhild]

Moon helps the city under cover, just like a real superhero should! And Sun is Joker&Dr.Horrible as Moon's nemesis! It's an enemies to lovers :D

Details: Moon bears resemblance to Batman, but not as gloomy. He goes by the name Drop as a superhero, and has an adopted daughter named Amy. Moon often visits the police station due to his work, having a direct business relationship with the police chief, Eclipse. Amy frequently accompanies her father to the police and usually just hangs out with the other colleagues while her father and the police chief converse.

Moon is a great father, but inept in romantic relationships, and has never been able to keep anyone for long. Having had no luck so far, he has given up on having someone else in his life. He used to be an assassin, but when he amassed enough money, he quit. He hates crime, but blood on his hands even more. When he adopted Amy, he swore to himself that he wouldn't kill anyone else.

Dr. Sun, or as the world knows him, Dr. Rise, is a graduated genius. Sun grew tired of humanity being trapped in the clutches of capitalism while slowly destroying the forests around it. Sun wants to create creatures by crossbreeding humans and plants that will find a balance between the two species. He was once very passionate about his work, but the truth is, he is incredibly burnt out and only does what he does for the sake of attention. He's incredibly lonely, avoided by everyone because of his bad reputation. The only entertaining thing in his life is Moon, who prevents him from hitting rock bottom. After every battle, he becomes so angry that he comes up with new ideas. His plan is to save humanity and defeat Drop.

At least, that's the current concept. To be honest, I was afraid to post this idea because lately I've seen a lot of similar designs to Sun's, and I didn't want any trouble from it. I'm not sure if there's still a superhero AU in the DCA fandom, but if there is, please let me know or reach out if your a creator :D Sorry if there's already a similar concept; I've been thinking about this AU for a few months ^^ it's not going to be a long story as i plan

[clxckwork-sun-n-moon]

sometimes you gotta embrace self-indulgence and that involves certain folks having a mechanic 'friend' (because I dunno how well animatronic healthcare works in the Sleuth Jesters-verse but that's not gonna stop me)

@naffeclipse's AUs are very fun to mix around too so we have bh!Eclipse getting a well-meaning talk despite both folks present knowing full well he's perfectly capable of self-maintenance - whereas mb!Sun and Moon are being hellions and getting warned that their mechanic has the police chief's phone number on their rolodex

these all stemmed from the og detective AU belonging to @sunnys-aesthetic

[naffeclipse]

I love this!!! Ahahhaha! ♥

Thank you for sharing!

Been losing my mind at everyone coming together to (rightfully) dunk on MafiaBoss!Eclipse and his complete inability to get bitches, so take this meme I hastily made about it.

Inspired by @naffeclipse ‘s delightful EFU (Eclipse Fanficmatic Universe)

[respectthepetty]

How does it feel to stay winning Petty? Also who would've guessed that baby Barcode would be the one of the BOC boys to collect kisses from all the homies!?

Anon, I appreciate you sending this because, right now, I feel like an elite status female rapper. Like CL from 2NE1 rapped in their 2011 hit, "I am the best", Be On Cloud owns me, and y'all can't tell me shit about this show.

I know I have some Wild Ass Theories and I'm always clownin' in these BL streets, but I love when my theories actually hit their target like . . .

When I knew Teacher Chadok was in a relationship with Teacher Dika since the first episode of The Eclipse.

When I knew Kanghan's house was going to be robbed and his dad would be shot since the third episode of Dangerous Romance, even though I thought Saifah would do it.

When I knew Pat was working with Joke to win over Zo since the first episode of Hidden Agenda.

I love making Wild Ass Theories no matter how crazy they are, like my belief that the twins' dad is involved in this whole murder and sex work plot in Playboyy. No matter what happened in this past episode, I still believe it and am eagerly awaiting the upcoming chaos to see how hard I clowned.

Which is why I LOVE Dead Friend Forever.

I want the record to state that no matter what happens after episode seven, that at this exact moment in time, I love this show. It makes me happy to be alive at the same time this is airing, and I'm not joking. I want to remember that at one point, this show was everything to me, and even if it goes down hill, it had all my attention in the first seven episodes. I want to appreciate it right now because regardless of what happens, it did everything right in the first half.

With the way some shows keep losing their footing in the end, sometimes we forget how good they were in the beginning, and the emo in me doesn't want to forget this feeling. Some of my favorite movies are Scream, Heathers, and Jawbreaker so this show has been giving me the explicitly queer version of kill your frenemies since the very first episode, and I love it.

My internal alarm went off the second Tee got upset that Phi was speaking to White in episode one, then the dark hand touched him making him enemy #1. I didn't like the way he told White he needed to obey him, and I feel like the dark hand wasn't too pleased with it either. It was a vibe.

And now Non has a hurt hand in the past from falling off the bike . . .

Then, Jin was the main character of the previous film, so he was either the killer or the biggest baddie.

But Phi was just so sus, that I clocked him as a killer.

Which meant Phi and Jin were the killers, but Tan has no backstory and people with no history are intentionally hiding it, so they can kill everyone and peace out.

So in my mind, Tan and Phi were regulated to the killers, Tee was the second to last to die, which I'm hoping it's by his boyfriend White who he thinks disobeys him, and the rest of the squad would die as needed. Which left Jin to be the baddie.

All of my theories could blow up at any second because we don't know if Jin actually sent that video or if his computer fizzled out before it finished uploading, so he could still be a killer avenging Non instead of a baddie who wronged Non (but he took the video and that is messed up regardless of what he planned to do with it).

But either way, I'm hoping it comes down to Phi and Jin in that forest because the show started with them.

And I don't think Jin realizes who Phi is to Non since Jin never got a good look at Phi's face in the past.

The Twitter folks spotted that Phi's dad was the police chief from the letters the boys got calling them in for interrogation in episode six.

And now the knife from episode two is showing up in the past in Non's backpack.

Up until this point, I feel the show has laid out a solid story with a good cast, and I think Be On Cloud relied on their KinnPorsche casting to throw people off in this show because who expected Us to be doomed in the first episode? That was like Drew Barrymore dying at the beginning of Scream.

People have felt off about JJ's character, but the show wouldn't really have JJ do anything bad to sweet Barcode, right?

And Barcode and Ta being paired together was a pipe dream for the Macau x Porchay shippers, so it could never happen here!

Especially because Ta and Copper won The Hidden Character, which meant they were going to be the main pair of this show, right?

WRONG!

Barcode is gonna be involved in some fucked up shit, and according to those MDL comments, people are realizing they messed up making any assumptions before this show started based on what the actors previously did.

I truly feel like BOC looked at its lineup and said "Baby Barcode was babygirled so hard for the past two years that the audience won't even think his character is capable of such things"

and I love that for us.

BOC gave these youngsters (19-23 in age) a script from Dr. Sammon and the Pit Babe writers and said "go HAM, bitches"

And the audience stays winning.

This isn't about my Wild Ass Theories coming true. This is an appreciation post for what this show has given to me up until this point - a good mystery.

Every week I have more questions and none of them feel like they will go unanswered. Is Non dead? Did Jin actually upload the video? Is Tan a killer? Why did Phi hook up with Jin? Will White finally snap, crackle, and pop like a bag of Rice Krispies treats for the mere fact that he simply wanted a nice weekend getaway with his boyfriend and now has to deal with all this bullshit?

But most importantly, when did Phi realize he was going to kill all of them after making them run around scared for their lives?

Because by time the show makes it back to the present day, I'm sure we're all going to want to watch these kids suffer in the worst ways possible.

Manipulate, Murder, Mayhem

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iii

plots are half revealed, and willy "mr accidentally steal yo girl" wonka gets his sorry ass saved by a woman wearing one of those "oh no my husband mysteriously floated away died" robes you see all over pinterest. (now there's a sentence i never thought i'd write.)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

i would like to thank mr mathew baynton in that one bts interview for those bits and pieces of fickelgruber analysis that will totally now be used here. and also for being generally wonderful. thanks mat ilysm

also i thought it would be sort of funny for at least someone in this world revolving around chocolate to be lactose intolerant and then of course i had to turn it into something sad and poetic bc of Who I Am As A Person

enjoy!! and thank you for all the support on this fic so far!!

part two fic masterlist part four

She had a lot to think about that night.

Felix hadn’t returned home yet, and she started to worry that the fateful flying chocolates weren’t quite as harmless as advertised. The young man who’d made them, too, was swirling about her mind in a haze of schoolgirl blushes and piercing guilt.

Florence Fickelgruber had chosen her lot when she agreed to take on that name. Who was she to imagine a freer life, one of candy-coated dreams and a clear conscience, of gazes and banter with someone her own age, of running her hand through curls that weren’t slick with expensive gel? Who was she to foolishly wish for anything different, when so many people were counting on her?

She missed her home, her family, and it hadn’t been lost on her that Felix had never told her about his own background. Their wedding was attended mainly by those surrounding the Fickelgruber business, as well as another flood of press. She’d had to blink so much that day, unused to being in front of cameras after a youth spent on the stage, but her new husband had preened next to her as if this focus on appearance was where he felt most at home. She remembered the crowd’s polite cheers fading in her mind as he had slowly lifted her chin while she accepted a forkful of the most extraordinarily decadent chocolate cake.

For that day, she had allowed the feeling of his hand on her face to eclipse that of the too-rich frosting stuck in her throat.

Then he came through the door, humming a jaunty tune, and she blinked, torn out of the memory that she felt an entirely different kind of guilt for indulging in.

“Felix? Darling, where have you been?”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty auburn head, my songbird. The boy’s finished, absolutely finished. No one will be flying about the Galeries Gourmet if the police have anything to say about it.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“He’s disturbed the peace, made a commotion, even encouraged the-the-the unfortunate to disgrace our sacred sanctuary of chocolate. And the Chief is none too happy about it.”

“Is he?” she said suspiciously, stepping in front of him-because, up until this point, he hadn’t looked her in the eye.

Felix was silent for a moment, cacao eyes darting. His wife’s gaze was strong and unyielding-don’t lie to me again, I can’t take it-but her head tilted innocently to the side, a sort of plausible deniability.

A sort of protection.

“Yes,” he breathed with a curt nod, and took her hands in his. “I promise you, it was a solemn thing.”

“Then what were you singing as you came in?”

The chocolatier blinked again, falling into an absolutely done sort of expression, and Florence’s head tilted to the other side.

“You’ve had another musical number without me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, pet.”

“You know you can’t hide from me, Felix,” she said, something that would have been playfully teasing but held an edge of desperation that he refused to pick up on.

“It of course wasn’t the same without you,” he drawled in that ever-dramatic way, bringing her into their living room. “We’ll make it up now. Dance with me, Florence.”

He snapped his fingers, and some unseen yet attentive servant placed a needle on a record. A crooning melody started to crackle and bounce across the high golden ceilings, and Felix spun his wife into him, twirling her about with a smirk that she could only imagine to be the result of a monopoly saved.

She swayed to and fro in his arms, trying desperately to sink into the music, unable to focus on anything but the wrenching pull of her battling guilts.

~

Florence spent much of the next day in a state of ping-ponging worry. She’d looked intently out of the mansion’s sprawling windows over the town square, wondering whether her forbidden new friend had taken her advice.

“Just…don’t give up.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

And who knows what they’ll do to him now?

The hours had passed in a blur, and then she was laid limp, unable to sleep, and mentally exhausted, next to her husband and his piccolo snore.

She had screwed her eyes shut and burrowed into him, trying to force herself to feel as secure as she did two years ago; then, the slight sound of a little girl’s singing voice lifted itself into her consciousness, followed by the blare of a police car.

Puzzled, Florence carefully got out of bed and went to the window once more. The girl she’d heard was the one with the sweet smile that she’d seen in the Galeria yesterday, and Willy Wonka was next to her, warning her to run. The Chief of Police and Officer Affable faced them, but this wasn’t to last-the former seemed to tell the latter to leave, and the latter obeyed.

It wasn’t as if a switch flipped at that moment.

More like…

An extinguished candle was finally relit.

Before she could overthink herself into inaction, Wren was grabbing her robe and slippers and bolting downstairs, the snore that echoed after her serving as reassurance that she wouldn’t be found out. In her haste, she had the passing realization that this would be the first time she’d leave the house with her hair down and uncoiffed in over two years.

Through this rush, she heard the plunge of something in the town square’s fountain along with the shouts of the Chief, and she ran faster, throwing open the door just in time to see him about to club a drenched Willy over the head.

“OFFICER!”

Both men turned to her in an instant. She let out the breath she’d been holding since first hearing the girl’s voice, rolled her shoulders back, dropped into the character she’d played for the past two years, and stepped forward.

“What on earth is going on?”

They stared, each with a different kind of shock, as she walked toward the fountain. The Chief returned his nightstick to its holster.

“Mrs. Fickelgruber,” he stammered, “I thought you would have thought-well, I guess he didn’t tell-you aren’t-”

“No, I’m not thrilled about you clobbering this poor young man in the middle of the night,” she said, placing a hand on Willy’s shoulder. He looked at her, still touched with the fear of the past minutes but now grateful, and she tried not to be struck by the freckles she saw behind his water-plastered curls.

“Who said anything about clobbering?” the Chief laughed somewhat nervously. “We were just having a chat. An impactful, memorable chat. Right, Mr. Wonka?”

Willy dragged his eyes to him and held them there, a bit speechless.

What was probably three seconds but felt like an eternity of strange silence passed.

“Memorable indeed.”

“Right, then,” the Chief said. “You’ll do good to continue to remember it. Goodnight, Mrs. Fickelgruber.”

With that, he entered his car and drove away, his tail lights fading in the distance as the remaining pair stood, a little shell-shocked, her hand still on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said after a while, his gaze still trailing the receding police car.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, giving his shoulder an awkward pat, which made her realize just how cold he was due to the impromptu fountain bath. “Oh, God, you’re freezing. Let me…”

As he turned towards her, she looked up, trying to see through her window in the dark. She could barely make out the shape of a sound-asleep Felix, still in bed.

“Come to the office, I’ve got the key. There’s a fireplace there; you can stay as long as you need to to warm up.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes moved up the same way, then back to her, and she shook her head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course.”

~

“Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea? Hot chocolate?”

She hadn’t turned on most of the lights so as not to draw attention, but she’d started a beautiful fire, which Willy sat by in a plush emerald-green chair. She’d rattled off the drinks on habit, but she turned to him upon saying the third, sharing his smile.

“The last one, please. But I’ll make it.”

“No, you need to rest-”

“I insist,” he said, moving to join her by the small bar in the office and searching through ingredients. “Unless that’s some sort of corporate sacrilege.”

“Making chocolate in enemy territory?”

He took a small jar of powder from his sleeve and shook it into two mugs, considering this, and his smile faltered a bit.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked. “That they’d…that they’d send the police after me? That business rivalry is thought of like a war?”

She pursed her lips and nodded solemnly.

“They…feel threatened,” she said slowly, “and, despite how professional they seem, they can’t be mature or rational about it. Apparently, you really do have the best chocolate in town.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, but gave half of a smile as he looked down at the drinks he was stirring.

“And I, for one, am quite looking forward to trying it.”

“Here, then,” he said, pulling something out of a coat pocket that had managed to escape the frozen flush. “Nothing too dangerous about this one. Just some good old Wonka magic.”

He opened his hand to her, revealing a small, wrapped treat, and she sighed.

“I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t. Not even the drinks.”

“Why not?” came the stunned reply, and she nearly laughed at just how sweetly scandalized the boy seemed to be at the idea of anyone denying themselves that pleasure.

“Milk has never really…agreed with me. Bad for the throat, and I’m a singer besides, as you know-I mean, I-well, it’s just…”

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

“I shouldn’t.”

He took a moment, and she watched his eyes widen as he processed the shocking injustice of being genetically predisposed against chocolate.

“Does your husband know about this?”

“He does, but he doesn’t care. Says I’ll ‘grow out of it with time’, which I haven’t.”

“So he’s…”

“Essentially poisoning me, yes.”

They laughed a little, because, surrounded by echoes of Fickelgruber’s power, it was the only thing they could do.

Willy stared at the table for a moment, then pulled another vial, this one containing a liquid, from yet another pocket.

“Lucky for you, then, I’ve got milk made from the product of the finest almond trees on the islands of Seychelles,” he said as he deftly poured the liquid into her glass. “Guaranteed to go down sweetly, both on the taste buds and after.”

“...Thank you,” she murmured, touched by the gesture.

With a final flick of the wrist, he deemed the hot chocolate finished, and they each carried their mug to the fire.

“Wren,” he said thoughtfully as they sat down.

“Hm?”

She was instinctively flooded with warmth in the same way she was yesterday, though whether it was due to the stunningly perfect cocoa or hearing her name in his voice she wasn’t sure.

“Is it a nickname? Songbird, right?”

She saw in the fireglow that his face darkened a bit upon the memory of how Felix had always referred to her in the press, taking that potentially sweet title and spinning it in an almost dehumanizing manner. So someone did notice.

“Well…sort of. That was what my parents intended. They say a wren sang when I was born, so they gave me that name, and I loved it. But Felix assumed it was a nickname and suggested I should expand it; to sound more sophisticated in my performances, he said, but I knew half the reason was to fit with the alliteration. He’s always valued aesthetics above anything else.”

They were silent for a while, and the massive painting seemed to stare down at them, making the Fickelgrubers look almost menacing in the fireglow.

“That’s you?”

A moment passed.

“No. No, that’s not really me.”

Her voice was quiet, but decisive. Willy looked at her, really looked at her, and she felt more seen than she had in years.

“I want to help you,” she said.

“Hm?”

His head tilted to the side, a little stunned, and she nearly giggled as his now-drying curls flopped in front of his face.

How could anyone want to hurt him?

“I don’t know exactly what Felix and the rest have planned against you, but I know there’s something. He never really tells me anything, but I’ll…I’ll try to find out what I can, to distract him when needed. I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“I’m not,” he said. “The others where I’m staying right now, we’re all in a rather precarious situation together, and I’ve got a few ideas, but…”

She watched the wheels turn in his mind, and after a few moments, he looked back up at her, for once lost for words.

“But thank you. Again. I’d…I appreciate it.”

“Thank you. For bringing some much-needed heart into this place.”

“I think you’ve done that rather well yourself.”

This was news to her often-guilt-wracked brain.

“...Really?”

“Well, of course. You clearly care, Wren…you’re kind, you’re poetic and talented, and far smarter than it seems they give you credit for. It’s in your eyes, too, I think. You can always tell the truth by a person’s eyes.”

Her heart had nearly stopped.

Somehow, though, she could tell that he was unaware of the full effect he had on her.

“Mr. Wonka-ah, Willy, I mean…”

“Forgive me if-I didn��t intend to-”

The clocks around the city chimed the hour, interrupting the two just as they had the day before, and the young man’s expression went from its dazed dawning to a startled realization.

“They’ll need me. Back where I’m staying, I mean.”

“Of-of course,” she said a bit awkwardly as they both stood up.

His hair had dried by now, falling in perfectly imperfect swoops around his face. He’d undone his necktie to keep its cold away from his neck, and his jacket was folded over his arm, and he was looking at her as if he hadn’t had a conversation quite like that with someone in a very, very long time.

And neither had I.

Or…ever, I suppose.

Until now.

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.”

She took a breath, let it out, and folded him into a hug, which he returned in an instant.

After two years of jutting angles and sharply possessive grasps, it was remarkable to simply, softly, hold and be held.

They bid a last goodnight before parting ways, and as she took her time walking back to the mansion, the moon seemed brighter than ever before.