#Might take this down if i figure out where i can use it

[alexanderwales]

I'm a big fan of wizards-as-programmers, but I think it's so much better when you lean into programming tropes.

A spell the wizard uses to light the group's campfire has an error somewhere in its depths, and sometimes it doesn't work at all. The wizard spends a lot of his time trying to track down the exact conditions that cause the failure.

The wizard is attempting to create a new spell that marries two older spells together, but while they were both written within the context of Zephyrus the Starweaver's foundational work, they each used a slightly different version, and untangling the collisions make a short project take months of work.

The wizard has grown too comfortable reusing old spells, and in particular, his teleportation spell keeps finding its components rearranged and remixed, its parts copied into a dozen different places in the spellbook. This is overall not actually a problem per se, but the party's rogue grows a bit concerned when the wizard's "drying spell" seems to just be a special case of teleportation where you teleport five feet to the left and leave the wetness behind.

A wizard is constantly fiddling with his spells, making minor tweaks and changes, getting them easier to cast, with better effects, adding bells and whistles. The "shelter for the night" spell includes a tea kettle that brings itself to a boil at dawn, which the wizard is inordinately pleased with. He reports on efficiency improvements to the indifference of anyone listening.

A different wizard immediately forgets all details of his spells after he's written them. He could not begin to tell you how any of it works, at least not without sitting down for a few hours or days to figure out how he set things up. The point is that it works, and once it does, the wizard can safely stop thinking about it.

Wizards enjoy each other's company, but you must be circumspect about spellwork. Having another wizard look through your spellbook makes you aware of every minor flaw, and you might not be able to answer questions about why a spell was written in a certain way, if you remember at all.

Wizards all have their own preferences as far as which scripts they write in, the formatting of their spellbook, its dimensions and material quality, and of course which famous wizards they've taken the most foundational knowledge from. The enlightened view is that all approaches have their strengths and weaknesses, but this has never stopped anyone from getting into a protracted argument.

Sometimes a wizard will sit down with an ancient tome attempting to find answers to a complicated problem, and finally find someone from across time who was trying to do the same thing, only for the final note to be "nevermind, fixed it".

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

“Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: happy weekend.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey, how’d you get in?” Peter rushes in, a tray of drinks in hand. 

You pop up on the stool, broken from your trance. Uncertain what else to do, you spent much of your time trying to distract yourself with his schematics. You twist to face him. 

“Um, Bucky,” you answer and cringe at home dumb you sound. “He helped.” 

“Bucky? Helpful?” He nears and puts the cardboard tray on the table, “I guess he can be.” He picks at the edge of the tray, “I got you a blueberry matcha. The place I hit didn’t have strawberry in season anymore.” 

“Oh, sounds... interesting, but you--” 

“Didn’t have to. I know, you always say so but I felt bad for being so late. I told may to get an airtag for her wallet. She can be so--” he stops himself and chuckles. “It’s whatever. She’s got a lot going on.” 

“Mhm,” you accept the cup he offers. “I was just looking over the plans. I think we could probably just go with yours. Makes more sense.” 

“What? Oh, no way,” he takes his iced whatever. It just looks like layers of sugar and cream. “I think we could easily bring together both. Take some of your features and mine. I don’t want to take over.” 

“Yeah, but...” 

“But nothing. Really. It’s a team project, not my project,” he insists as he hops up on the stool next to you, “so,” he swipes his hand in the air and a holographic screen appears. You flinch. “Let’s compare and redraw.” 

You gape as another floating rectangle appears before him. No wonder his look so much better than your Paint hack job. You want to sink down and disappear. You always figured you’re not interesting enough to be his friend but now you’re certain you might be too stupid and poor for him too. 

“So, I’m going to get logged in...” he mutters. 

“Um, Peter?” You murmur, “are you sure you wanna be my partner?” 

“Why... wouldn’t I?” He hovers his hand before the screen as he looks at you. 

“I dunno. I don’t... I don’t have much to offer. Not a lab, not all these cool computers...” 

“Oh this? No, it’s not—it's not a big deal. Dude, I'm so lucky Mr. Stark is letting me use this. I’m not ignorant, you know? I just thought it would be easier. I don’t think your roommates like me much and mine are so loud.” he explains as he lowers his arm, crossing both over the table as he leans on it. “Do you not want to be my partner?” 

“Nnnooo,” you drag the word out. “No, I do, but I want to contribute to and I don’t know how to use any of this.” 

“That’s cool. I’ll show you.” 

“Um, okay,” you nibble your lip sheepishly. “I guess...” 

“Did you try the tea? Is it good?” He changes the subject. He does that a lot. Pivots around before you can finish your thoughts. 

“Not yet,” you look down at the bright pink lid, “where did you get this?” 

“Some place called Berry? I don’t know. Everything was bright. You’d hate it,” he laughs again. “Oh,” he snaps his fingers as you blow into the lid cautiously. “Before I forget, I’m having a party. I know it’s not really your thing but it’s ‘my turn’,” he makes quotations with his fingers, “and I don’t really wanna but I also thought I'd invite you in case you wanted to not be there with me, too.” 

Your blink in surprise, “a party?” 

“I know, too much. Well, I didn’t wanna leave you out.” 

“Mmm,” you drone nervously. It is really nice of him to think of you and after everything else, you hate to say no. “No one ever invited me to a party.” 

“No?” His brow furrows, “really?” 

You shake your head, “I’ll come. Yeah. I’ll try. You know, it’s college and ...” you take a sip and clear your throat, “should I bring a dessert?” 

He laughs and gives you a playful grudge, “wow, I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask me that except my aunt’s friends. Nope, you can just come as you are. You can always bring some drinks for yourself but I’ll have more than enough to share.” 

“Oh, okay,” you nod. 

“The tea good?” He asks again. 

“Yeah, sweet,” you put the cup down. 

“Awesome!” He grins. “I really didn’t think you’d come. I’m so excited.” 

“Really?” You ask. 

“Well, duh. You’re so fucking cool. Like all my other friends, they try so hard. It’s all ‘let’s go do shots’ or ‘watch me do this dumb shit’. You don’t even try, you’re just you. It’s like people don’t realize they can just be nice and be cool for just that.” 

“I... yeah,” you don’t know what to say.  

It’s like he’s calling you boring but not. You know you are and you don’t mind but you can’t ever remember when you just felt like everyone else. Where you weren’t the odd one out. Despite trying to include you, Peter still manages to push you to the edges. 

You wince as you notice how he stares at you. You fidget and pick at the button on the front of your corduroy skirt. His eyes flick down to the nervous movement. 

“I like that,” he reaches to touch the ridged fabric, “blue. Oh, thick.” 

Your leg twitches in surprise, “uh, yeah... found it at the student thrift shop.” 

“Really?” His fingers brush over the hem and touch your coloured tights. They linger for a moment before he pulls away. “Cute. I’ve never been there.” 

“It’s not bad...” you cross your legs as you knee tingles from his touch. That was strange. 

“Well, anyway,” he waggles his fingers as he turns back to the table, “uh, where was I?” He squints at the screens and taps in the air. He pauses and looks at you. “Here, I’ll show you how it work, alright?”  

He reaches over again and you brace yourself. He grabs the underside of the stool seat and drags you closer. He it so easily, you gasp. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. He slides his hand around so his arm is diagonal around your back. 

“Right, so...” his shoulder presses to you as he points with his other arm, “you can just use your finger. I’ll have to add your prints to the program. Put your hands up.” 

You obey as he stays close. You’re overly away of it. The way he’s pressed to you. He doesn’t seem to notice at all. You try not to think of it and focus on his instructions. The project. That’s why you’re here. 

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ok I just saw your Vamp!Rhys brain rot headcanons post and I'm letting you know right now if you do not develop them into full blown chapters for Vamp!Rhys I'll literally sue for emotional damages ok thank you <3

lol I suppose I can make that happen ;)

------------------------------------------------------

Ancient Recipes

The bed is, surprisingly, empty when you awaken, the last rays of evening light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. Your hands brush absently through the cold sheets as if they could tell you where he’d disappeared off to. He’s not usually up this early.

With a yawn, you slide out of bed and yank on one of his discarded shirts, leaving the silky button down open down the middle in a half-hearted attempt at decency before padding off in search of him. 

The library and game room is empty, the curtains pulled tight, the air a little stuffy. You can hear Cassian snoring from behind his closed door and a tendril of shadow still guard’s Azriel’s door handle, telling you that he’s not off with either of them this early.

Eventually, you find yourself wandering down into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty too, but figuring it’s worth a shot. You’re surprised to find Rhys bent over the stove, shirtless, sleep pants slung low over his hips as he carefully chops a mix of vegetables. His ears twitch as you walk towards him, a sure sign that he hears your approach. 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says without turning. You can hear the pout in his voice without seeing the purse of those full lips you love so much.

“Missed you,” you say as you slide your arms around his waist and bury your head between his shoulder blades.

He sets the knife down long enough to run a hand over where yours hold his waist. “I was coming right back.”

You place a kiss against his spine before leaning around him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

“I am a thousand years old, Darling,” he purrs. “That’s a long time to not learn how to prepare a meal.”

There’s an old, hand written book propped up against the stone wall, the swirling script fading under the cruel hands of time in a language long forgotten. The pages are brittle and yellow now, the date written in the corner nearly illegible. 

“What are you making?”

Skilled hands throw in diced vegetables and dried herbs into a pot simmering with some sort of red sauce. “Something my mother used to make me,” he says softly. “These are her recipes.”

Your chest tightens. He’d told you about the hunters that had killed his mother and sister not long after that night when those hunters had come for you. He’d, understandably, been on edge since, the encounter bringing up a lot of old memories he hadn’t touched. It’s little surprise that he would try and find some solace here.

“Smells good,” you say. 

He twists and pulls you in front of him, so you can watch as he works. “Can’t find all the right ingredients,” he frowns. “Some of these spices have been lost to time. I think these will work instead. Hopefully.”

Rhys dips a wooden spoon into the bubbling liquid and brings it to your lips, “Try this for me?”

You give it a second to cool before taking a taste, the mixture both earthy and spicy, but deliciously warm. “It’s good!”

“Yes, but is it right?” He insists.

You tilt your head up to look at him, brows raised, “How would I know, Rhysand? By the sound of it, most of the things you’re missing were lost to the world before my parents were even born.”

You think if he was capable of it he might have blushed against the mistake. Instead, he kisses the top of your head. “I suppose I could ask Az.” He licks a bit of the mixture, frowning as he goes, before putting the spoon directly back into the pot. Apparently a key ingredient in ancient recipes is a little bit of saliva. 

A moment later, the shadowy vampire emerges, summoned for this oh so important errand. Azriel’s dark hair is sleep tousled, shadows swirling lazily around his bare shoulders. Any other morning with the two males looking like this you would have climbed them like a tree, but this morning is apparently for other things, as Rhys nearly flings the spoon in Azriel’s direction. 

“What am I missing?” He demands.

Az takes a taste and spits it into the sink. “What did you do?!” He all but shoves the two of you out of the way to reach for the spice rack in the cupboards above your head. “Your mother would have beat you with that spoon.”

“I know!” Rhys huffs. “What did I forget?”

Azriel starts opening old jars of dried herbs and adding them into the pot. “Egg and thyme for one thing, dumbass.”

Rhys grabs the book off the counter and looks more closely at the recipe, keeping one arm around your shoulders to have you close even so. “Oh, yeah I did forget the egg.”

Azriel cracks four of them into the mixture, before throwing in more herbs. “You’re cooking it too high too.”

Rhys brushes his lips over your hair. “Wanted to bring it to you in bed before you woke up.”

You twist and lean up on your toes to give him a proper good morning kiss. “I would have loved it anyway.”

“Human taste buds are disgusting,” Azriel huffs.

You hear Cassian’s footsteps before you see the half-awake vampire stumble into the kitchen. “Are we cooking what I think we are?”

“Not if Rhys has anything to do with it,” Azriel huffs.

“It was for Y/N!” Rhys returns. “I didn’t make enough for everyone.”

“But she’s so good at sharing,” Cassian says with a wink, his sleep thick voice enough to make heat pool between your legs. 

Rhys lifts you up and places you on the counter, beside where Azriel still chops more ingredients, so he can kiss you deeper this time. “Mine.” 

“Not with your cooking she’s not,” Azriel quips. 

Cassian tuts as he comes over to Azriel’s other side and dips a finger into the now simmering pot. Azriel smacks his hand with the back of the wooden spoon and Rhys hisses, fangs glinting in the candlelight.

“How are you supposed to take care of the little human if you can’t even cook her a decent meal?” He brings his fingers to his mouth for a taste, then frowns. “Do neither of you own any peppers at all? What is this, baby food?”

“I added the aleppo, just as the recipe said!” Rhys retorts. 

“You definitely didn’t! Your mother never made anything this bland!” Cassian insists.

“I’m following the recipe!”

Azriel snatches the book, scarred hands thumbing quickly through the pages. “I remember it being spicier.”

Rhys frowns. “Maybe we’re thinking of that other recipe she used to make?”

“No that one was for dinner,” Cassian returns. “I definitely remember a spicy breakfast dish. Especially on cold winter mornings.”

“He’s right,” Azriel chimes in, eyes still glued to the pages. 

“I mean, our tastes did change when we turned, maybe we’re the problem?” Cassian asks, running a hand over his face in thought. 

“Your tastes change when you turn?” You ask.

“A little,” Rhys says with a frown, violet eyes on the dish. “Maybe you’re right, Cass. Did you think it was spicy, Darling?” 

“A little,” you reply. “It could use more, I think, but again, I’ve never tried it before so I’m not exactly an expert.”

Cass peers into the pot. “It looks right.”

Azriel sets the book back on the counter with nothing short of reverence. “Guess it is us.”

Rhys’s face falls, it’s like watching him lose a piece of the past. You take his face in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. “I think any mother would be proud to know that you loved something so much that you put all this effort into sharing it, whether is tastes the same or not.”

His grin is soft, like the kiss he plants on your lips, taking his time to pull out of it.

“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me,” you say.

Azriel scoops it up into four small portions, the wooden dishes old and reminiscent of a time long passed. Not the formal dining ware they bring out at parties, but a little piece of home that managed to survive the passage of time. 

It’s delicious, Az had been right about needing the egg and thyme, it brings a more rounded flavor to the dish. But it would have been equally fine if Rhys had brought the first attempt to you in bed, simply because he loved you enough to try and make something for you even when he could not fully enjoy it himself. It tastes all the better because it’s something the four of you can share, can make new memories out of. You certainly will not forget it, not even in the coming change of your mortality. 

“Well now you’ve got me curious for what other ancient recipes you’ve been hiding,” you say as the meal comes to a close. 

“You make us sound like we’re old as dirt,” Cassian huffs. 

You wink up at Rhys as he kisses your temple. “A thousand years is a long time. What else can you make for me?”

[1moreff-creator]

Select Two, Choose One: How will the Culprit get Found?

Since the latest DRDT chapter seems to have narrowed down the suspect list to just two people, many have speculated on how exactly the cast is going to pin down the correct suspect, and whether or not the audience has the tools to do so. I thought I’d throw my hat in the ring too! And while I’m still really 50/50 split, there is one piece of evidence that could change the murder method… in a way that points us to the culprit. Very inconclusive evidence, but it’s there. Let’s get into it.

Spoilers up to CH2 EP14. CW: Hanging, murder, blood, Eden and Ace!Culprit discussion

As a starting point, I’ll assume that the deduction that the culprit must be one of Eden or Ace is accurate, to simplify things if nothing else.

I will start with what I’ll call “meta only” arguments. In other words, things that characters can’t reliably use to narrow down the suspect, but that we the audience can take into consideration for theory-crafting.

-Mindset post-Nico murder attempt: Immediately after Nico runs out of the gym, the killer needs to be in the correct mindset to grab the tape, and they also need to be able to more or less figure out what Nico did to replicate it with Arei. Although, importantly, the killer doesn’t need to come up with the full plan on the spot, and they don’t need to fully understand what Nico was doing. At the end of the day, the only real similarities are the general idea of a pulley and a hanging.

Here’s more or less the train of thought Eden might have had if she’s the killer.

Eden: Hmm… The fan is broken and there was wire on it, Ace’s neck looks cut… Maybe Nico used some kind of pulley to hang him and it broke? Maybe I could do that… This tape looks useful for that.

Meanwhile, since Ace woke up in the middle of the murder attempt, he has to do a little less deducing.

Ace: Did I just get knocked- HOLY SHIT NICO IS HANGING ME WITH SOME SORT OF FUCKING SPINNING DEVICE AAAA-! Ooh, tape! :D

The actual planning of a murder would come later in the morning for Ace, once he sits down and has A Thought about it. Grabbing the tape in that context seems insane, but there may be precedent for Ace being prone to stealing the weirdest shit (we’ll get to it), so…

I think both of these are plausible. I wouldn’t say either can be disqualified like this, so we keep looking.

-Ripping/reconstructing the note: The note to Arei was ripped up and thrown into the trash, then Eden, Rose and Whit put it together.

Ace has no real reason to destroy the note, he could have just left it as it was. Maybe throw it in the trash since “it’s what Eden would have done”, but destroying it runs the risk of people not being able to put it together to point at Eden/Arturo. Although, you could argue Ace was trying to frame Nico specifically, so the note wasn’t useful and he threw it away because it made sense in his mind.

Here’s where we get introduced to a pretty big problem of having Ace as a suspect; that thing Teruko said, that sometimes assuming people will always act logically is a bad idea. Ace is the prime example; a lot of shit in this case makes a lot more sense if you assume Ace did it because he’s not smart enough to notice the problems with it. Such as using the method to frame Nico when only a few people in the class know what the method is; he maybe wouldn’t have noticed that that could point towards him as well. Ace is erratic, it’s very difficult to pin down why he does half the shit he does.

Eden, at least, makes sense. By destroying the note, then rebuilding it herself, she throws off suspicion with the exact argument she used in the trial; if she’s the killer, why do that? Just leaving the note as it is runs the risk of someone finding it and presenting it, which removes that argument, meaning tearing it is imperative.

And she would want the class to find it, not just because it makes her look more innocent if she talks about a building friendship with Arei, but because the note is where we get the “7:30” time, which combined with the fish making people think the murder was at nighttime, appears to give Eden an alibi.

In conclusion, the note being ripped makes more sense with Eden as the culprit… but it doesn’t disqualify Ace because he’s an idiot. And speaking of that…

-Fish Paradox: As outlined in my Ep13 murder theory revision, the problem with the fish is that everyone who benefits from the fish being at the crime scene only benefits if they have an alibi for nighttime, but that coincides with the time the fish disappeared, as Nico fed them and counted all of them after having dinner, so they couldn’t have taken it. Meanwhile, people like Ace who could have taken the fish, wouldn’t have a reason to as they don’t benefit from the nighttime alibi.

Except, it’s fucking Ace. It’s genuinely possible he thought people would see fish and instantly jump on Nico for some reason. See the problems that arise when you can no longer assume the killer is acting rationally?

Anyways, inconclusive (we’ll talk Eden later).

-No blood on tape: This heavily depends on exactly how Ace could grabbed the tape. His hands sorta get covered in blood instantly, so it’s hard to imagine he’d be able to do that without staining the entire roll of tape with blood. He couldn’t have easily washed it, either, since he passes out shortly after, and the blood would have likely dried by the time he woke up. This is definitely a point towards Eden, but can the cast use this? I don’t think so, because it relies on what we saw during the episode, which is not easy to prove in a trial setting.

-Dialogue and trial behavior: This one’s difficult, and as you might expect, inconclusive.

I would argue Eden has a higher amount of outright suspicious lines (“Teruko, wait—“ haunts me), but she also has a higher amount of seemingly anti-suspicious lines that make her look very innocent (see: the entire speech at the end of Ep 14).

She also has a moment where she steers the trial in the right direction by denying that Arei could have committed assisted suicide, but it’s worth remembering that if the class thinks that’s what happened and they learn of Eden’s relationship with her, they might assume Arei and Eden worked together to get Eden out. In other words, by denying the notion of assisted suicide, Eden!Culprit avoids the class reaching the right conclusion through the wrong method. Of course, if she’s innocent, it’s just genuine.

Comparatively, Ace operates at a much more stable level of suspiciousness I can only call “Ace level.” He’s constantly throwing suspicion on Nico, who the killer seemingly tried to frame with the method; he kept David and Arei’s conversation hidden; and was one of the first to jump on the “David’s the culprit” bandwagon. In a vacuum, this is super suspicious; hell, Levi was the fandom’s prime suspect for less.

But… it’s Ace. His behavior isn’t too different from the first trial. So while it’s possible he’s doing all this because he’s the culprit, it’s also possible he’s just being Ace.

Impossible to tell, I fear.

-Eden’s Night 2 paranoia: You might recall Eden being very worried someone was following her in night 2, which could suggest she was doing something suspicious (eg setting up the ball of clothes, more on this later) and was scared she’d get found out.

The problem is that there’s a perfectly fine explanation for Spotless!Eden. This is the night after her confrontation with Arturo, and Teruko did enter the same room as her; she could have just been paranoid because of the former, and felt someone was following her because of the latter. Moot point.

(I don’t think anyone else was following Eden because Teruko would have presumably seen them. Then again, I have overestimated our protag’s perceptiveness in the past)

-Eden’s strength: Eden is the weakest of the cast, so it’s very possible that half the Arei murder method is just impossible for her. But… we can’t know for absolutely sure what “weakest of the cast” means, and it’s not evidence that can be used in a trial. Ignorable.

-Motive, character writing and themes: I’m lumping these in together because I’ll give the same answer to all of them: the dev can just add an explanation in the inevitable post-trial trauma dump. We don’t know absolutely everything there is to know about these characters, or the way the narrative is going, so it’s impossible to confidently argue based on this. Physical evidence will always take precedence over these things in my books.

And that kinda settles it for that. There’s minor arguments like “Eden won’t die before we explore the Fork CG” (well, Xander did, so) or “if the Scrum Debate is Ace vs Eden then Ace is probably safe” (we don’t know what the Scrum Debate will be), but I’ll skip them to get to the more pressing matters.

That being trial-worthy evidence. What can the most dysfunctional cast of any fangan ever (/affectionate) use to fully commit to a culprit?

-Fish Alibi: If Ace has the problem of “no reason to bring fish,” Eden has the problem that her alibi literally starts directly after dinner. If Nico ate dinner with her and Hu, she couldn’t have taken the fish.

Except, of course, Nico could have had dinner earlier, and this point is completely moot. We can’t know yet.

-BDA: This is very obviously not what the cast will use to come to the conclusion given the discussions we’ve had, but I’ll bring it up anyways. This was explained in the episode though, so…

-Playground floor: sorastar6’s idea; since the floor of the playground is made of the same stuff as the relax room, it’d become sticky after getting wet from the water in the jugs, and thus, the culprit could have some stuck to their shoe. Unfortunately for some of you, we can’t easily look at the cast’s feet all the time, so this would only work for the characters, not us. However, Hu does mention heels as an example of something that can scuff the floor, and Ace wears heels, so small point to him.

-Missing glove: I still have no idea where this thing went. My only guess would be that the killer removed it to more easily put tape on Arei’s wrists, but by the time they’d strung her up, they decided putting the glove back on would take too much time (? I have no concept of how hard it’s be to properly put a glove on a dead person’s hand), and they wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. If true, that would mean they still have the glove on them, as it wasn’t in the trash. Again, if I’m right about this, the cast can use this, we can’t.

-Random garbage:

Something here. Rose would remember everything about it, so it’s usable. Maybe Ace’s gloves were damaged and he had to use the needle and thread to fix them? Maybe one of those napkins is the cloth with turpentine Nico used and only Ace would have identified and used it (assuming it wouldn’t have dried and MonoTV wouldn’t have thrown it out for some reason)? What even is that pink paper thing? Who knows.

-Ball of clothes: Held together by something Teruko identified as starch, there’s been around three hundred theories involving this thing. The only one that’s actually incriminating (for the two possibilities being discussed) is thebadjoe’s idea of the starch being from the enriched formula of the relax room, which could implicate Eden as she was acting suspiciously around the dress-up room on night 2.

I’ve seen it argued that the clothes would be dirty in that case, but that can be solved with an extra layer of clothes under the clothes that actually get starched up, which would later be either discarded, washed, or simply put inside the ball itself.

(This might be the last murder diagram I make for this case. Holy shit I can’t believe that)

Which is all well and good, but this is still ultimately assuming both that the cast has some way of making sure Ace couldn’t have done this, which I’m not sure exists, and that the starch comes from the relax room in the first place.

Because something I learnt, like, last week, is that people put starch on clothes. Like that’s a thing they do. So it’s entirely possible there’s starch for clothes in the dress-up room and anyone could have done this. If that’s the case, this cannot be used to argue at all. I don’t love the idea, since we don’t know if there really is starch there or not, but it’s there.

-Grammar: The letter to Arei pretty famously misspells “responsibel” (responsible), has horrible punctuation, etc. It’s possible someone in the trial will realize, ask Ace and Eden to spell the word, and whoever gets it right is cleared. We can’t know, but it’s a possibility. This also has the benefit of being obscenely funny.

-Custom weapon: If the killer used their custom weapon, it may point to them as guilty, as only they have access to it. However, I fail to see how a riding crop (Ace) or a wrench (Eden) would help in the slightest.

There is, however, one more item that only one of these characters has access to. And while I am very unsure of this assumption, if you ask me right now what is the decisive piece of evidence that will close the case once and for all, I will tell you:

-The shoulder band thingy:

Ace: Too fucking bad. Mine now. I’m keeping it.

Yep. This one.

For starters, remember that thing I said about the tape? That Ace has precedent of stealing completely random shit for no reason, and so it’s plausible he grabbed the tape just because? This is the precedent.

More importantly though, it’s something only Ace has access to, so if it can be determined it was used in the crime scene, it’s curtains.

And there is actually one place I could see it being used. Followers of my method theories know that, through the fire and the flames, there’s been one deduction that’s remain constant: the rope was tied to the ball of clothes, which was thrown over the railings to get the rope as high as needed. The ball also hit the lights, displacing the bulb and causing it to flicker.

(He he I snuck the image into a fourth post >:D)

I’ve always sorta assumed DRDT takes place in a physics exercise where air drag is ignored, but it’s true that this might be harder than I’ve been presenting it as.

So, we get the use for the shoulder band; a slingshot. I’m unsure on how it would be constructed (swingset maybe? seesaw?), but the idea is that. Create a slingshot, throw the clothes, badabim badabum, Ace is the culprit.

I’m not the only one to think of this btw. Reddit user (yes we’re cross-platforming for this) Makatrull seems to have arrived at the same conclusion. Great minds think alike ig.

Of course, this comes with its own issues. Mainly, how do you connect the shoulder band to the crime scene? The only way I see that happening is if the cast determines this is literally the only way the lights get broken, which… yeah, I’m gonna have to let them do the math on that one.

It’s impossible to judge without existing in the DRDT world. Is the ceiling higher than I’d previously assumed? Then it’s possible to come to this conclusion. Is it lower, and possible that even Eden would have managed to just throw the ball over the railing? Certainly. So, for now, inconclusive. When I say it’s the most likely to be the decisive evidence, I mean by like, 0.1%, I really have no clue.

———

There’s probably more, but that’s all I can think of for now.

Seeing as we’re reaching the end, I’m gonna say that regardless of the outcome, this might be one of my favorite trials in all of both canon and fan-made Danganronpa. So much shit happened. I’ll save my full thoughts for a more dedicated post, but goddamn, I can’t wait to see the conclusion!

Hope you enjoyed! If you made it this far, you deserve a shoulder band thing. Do with it as you please. See you!

[dakotalun]

What Now? | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: You just got broken up with and you can only think of one place to go.

warnings: none, just some fluffy Eddie moments :)

word count: 1k

a/n: Shit it's been a while. Anyways back to it!

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Everything was going okay recently, not many nightmares and the ones I did have weren’t too bad. Until…

“What?” The confusion is evident on my face and in my voice.

“I just don’t think we’ll work out. I’m sorry,” Jamie’s head is down and their eyes are looking everywhere but at me.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all, it’s me.”

I scoff, “Pfft. Okay sure,” I roll my eyes at their words, “Like every other time people say that line.”

“I’m being serious, love. I love you, I really do but there’s shit that I need to figure out-”

“Then we figure it out together! That’s what it means to be in a committed relationship!”

“I just- I feel like having a partner right now is not helping,” Their voice is distant and soft now.

“I get it. I’m too much, too clingy, too needy, too…everything,” The words sting my throat and tongue as they leave but it’s the truth, it’s what they all mean when they break it off with me.

“Not at all! You’re perfect, in every way, shape, and form. Seriously, it's me. I’m going through shit that I feel like would break us if I kept lying about it to you.”

“So this has been going on for a while?” I see their face change for a second then go back to sadness.

“Yeah, it has. But I thought it was nothing-”

“How long?”

“What?” Now it’s their turn to be confused.

“How long have you known and been going through this?” My face is steel and I show no emotion.

“Since Lolla.”

Lollapalooza was in August, it’s November. They’ve known this and not said anything for 3 months! Lying to me about everything for so long and I had no idea. I don’t even know how to feel right now. I begin to grab my bag and stuff my shit in it before getting up off their bed.

"Y/N," They reach for my hand to stop me from leaving.

I pull away before they can touch me, "Don't. I- I need space," I leave their room and head for the front door, looking back at the fuzzy orange cat lying on the back of the chair as he always does for the last time. 

"Bye Cheerio," I twist the knob and walk out of the apartment I had felt so welcome in before. 

I can hear the thunder once in the elevator, realizing that I can't return home because I promised Robin the apartment, assuming I'd be with Jamie all night. I try to think of who else I could stay with tonight.

Chrissy maybe? No, she’s at Jason’s place for the weekend. Oh, Nancy should be free right? I reach for my phone to text Nancy but see a Google Calendar notification on the screen.

Nancy Double Date with Johnathan and Roomie! Damn, I guess she’s out too. Maybe Robin would understand me coming home tonight, if I told them what happened? 

As I think about what to do and where to go, rain starts to pour down, soaking through the loose shirt I had put on. 

Why does this keep happening to me? How do I always end up in the rain with no place to go? I think back to last summer when Kris, Sophia, and I got into it and my brother’s friend had to come rescue me from myself and the rain. I laugh at the thought that this is just going to be my normal from now on.

As I walk, my feet autonomously begin to head to the only other person whom I trust and who might be able to help. I don’t even realize where I’m going until I’m standing in front of the building, not under the protection of the awning even though it’s only 3 feet in front of me.

I take a deep breath before stepping forward and deciding this really is the only option I have left. I’m thankful for the covering once I’m actually under it. I dial apartment 203 and wait for the voice of my best friend to spread through the old speaker.

"Hello?" His voice is low and gravelly; he must have just woken up.

"Eddie, It’s Y/N. Can I come up? I-" I sniffle and before I can continue I hear the lock moving and the door unlock so I can enter. I didn’t even realize I had been crying until then.

I quickly open the door and make my way through the small maze to get to his place on the second floor. I can feel my wet socks and the weight of my bag has risen tremendously since I left Jamie’s. I'm gonna need to check and make sure my computer is okay once I get inside his place.

Soon I reach his door and he's standing there against the frame, in a tshirt and sweats, his signature look. The expression on his face is one of concern and fear. Something I’m all too familiar with.

"Hey," My voice is weak and not at all how he normally hears it. I’ve never cried in front of him and we’ve been friends for over a year now, strange.

"Shit, Y/N you're soaked! Get the fuck in here," He moves out the way and closes the door behind me as I walk into his living room, making sure to take off my shoes before going onto the carpet.

He comes back with a towel and wraps it around me after taking my bag and setting it at my feet. I mumble a thank you before taking a seat at the edge of his couch, completely on the other side from where he normally sits.

To my surprise he sits next to me and rubs my back, comforting me and drying me at the same time. We sit there in silence for a few minutes. I'm tired and not in the mood to fully explain what happened yet, so neither of us speak until I realize I should probably tell him why I came to his place so late and without warning.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27

[transingthoseformers]

So I was thinking more about your TF One B-127 ask and like, I think we were too quick to dismiss him as being sent to Robo-Hell for being a clumsy yapper.

If you think about it, I think B-127's fate is what Orion Pax's would have been, had he not had D-16 helping to cover his aft.

B mentions being 'too good at his jobs', can name several members of the High Guard on sight, shows a lot of tactical intelligence (the escape to the surface plan that kind of insinuates he's done it at least once, offering up energon to Alpha Trion, etc), and yeah, while a lot of that could be circumstance...

Think about it, if he's good enough at his work, then he'll wind up with a lot of free time and with his curiosity, he found ways to indulge that. Likely by breaking into the archives like how Orion did, but probably just to find stuff to read instead of Orion's drive to figure out more about the Matrix.

He's curious and observant and we also never once hear him referred to as 'Bumblebee', just 'B' or 'B-127' or (deep sigh) Badassitron. He normally gets the 'Bumblebee' name because he's a bumbler/clumsy, resulting in 'Bumbling B-127' or 'Bumble-B' for short. But we never get that in this movie; in fact, I don't recall anyone referring to him as clumsy in movie, just us fans when talking about it.

And we find him all the way down on a floor that both D-16 and Orion Pax were sure didn't exist (they only knew up to floor 40 after all), and B's showing a lot of signs of instability due to long periods of isolation and low stimulation, such as his 'coworkers'. Think about it, if he ever got out of that little room and back up to where all the other bots are, would anyone ever believe him? Even D-16 and Orion Pax immediately started treating him very gently and with caution right after being dumped into his cell.

So yeah, he knew too much or he knew the wrong things and was considered a risk to Sentinel's leadership, so down to Robo-Hell he went to be forgotten about and driven insane from isolation so that no one would ever believe him, if B didn't off himself first via convyer belt into incinerator.

And again, I fully believe this would have been Orion Pax's fate as well, had he not had a friend like D-16 watching out for him all the time.

Honestly you might be right here, tf1 Bee is more competent than we're giving him credit for

... how interesting would it be if Bee did get in trouble for yapping, but in a "he's talking about some very sensitive topics Sentinel has an interest in suppressing" kind of way?

I'm assuming he's going to take on the name Bumblebee in the future, perhaps?

Calling it a cell is absolutely right because I'm a way it totally is one

That would be so interesting

[falderaletcetera]

okay who wants a fucking great country-ish song about the 401 highway, apparently the busiest highway in both canada and the US and an absolute nightmare to drive on?

(because I didn't think I needed this but apparently really do, and it has single-digit likes on youtube, so I figure it can stand to be seen by more people.)

this guy has minimal online presence and only two songs actually for sale anywhere but @darkfinch managed to find this, which has some info and songs on it.

and now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go relisten, because this song goes hard and is quite happily stuck in my head <3

~

lyrics:

this is a long highway and it might take a day to drive from detroit back to montreal where the big rigs roll down through ontario and cars go speeds they should never go (never go, never go) take a look ahead flashing lights of red another crash out on the blacktop run on the news it says another driver's dead that brings the toll this month to twenty one (twenty one, twenty one) I took a ride today out on the king's highway from montreal to toronto bay justice will have its day with your life you'll pay better pay heed, so the people say keep your hands at ten and two do what you have to do keep them there until the drive is done or you may walk this road a lost and lonely soul another death out on the 401

just between you and I how can you justify the life you took with the pedal down (pedal down, pedal down) the ghosts they roam the road looking for their home and if they spoke you never hear the sound (sound, sound) I took a ride today out on the king's highway from montreal to toronto bay justice will have its day with your life you'll pay better pay heed, so the people say keep your hands at ten and two do what you have to do keep them there until the drive is done or you may walk this road a lost and lonely soul another death out on the 401 another death out on the 401

~

[ninjaturtlemaniac]

Parasite? Happy Broppy Day!

Poppy stuck her head into the doorway.

“Branch?!”

No response.

Next room?

“Branch?!”

The emptiness of the half built room made her voice echo.

She continued down the hallways. There's quite a few rooms he could still be in.

Lots more rooms than I remember being in the plans. More places to hide! I'll have to note the best spots I find.

“Braaaanch! I love hide and seek as much as the next Troll but no one has seen you all day and it's getting dark~!” She called out in a singsong voice.

She stopped in the main ballroom. The construction Trolls were finishing up for the day and packing away their equipment.

One of them noticed her in the doorway.

“Queen Poppy, did you need something?”

“Have any of you seen Branch today?”

“I saw King Branch this morning!” A Troll further away from them shouted.

“Wonderful! Where did you see him?”

“North edge of the village.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I tried, he wouldn't let anyone near him!”

“What do you mean?”

“He told us he had very important King duties to attend to and he shouldn't be disturbed. Which is fair, if I had important King duties I wouldn't want to be disturbed either.”

The trolls around him nodded in agreement.

“Thank you everyone. Everything is looking fantastic. Please have a good night annnnd you know what? Take a rest day tomorrow.”

The trolls cheered with high fives and praises for their Queen as they left.

King duties? North village edge?

Poppy tried to think what would be upsetting Branch that he would be avoiding everyone.

If Branch was here, he would be able to figure out what was upsetting Branch.

She tapped her chin as she made her way to the north edge to find clues.

Poppy hadn't gone this long without Branch around her since he was still living in…

The Bunker!

Once she knew where to go, Poppy was at the hatch in no time.

She grabbed the handle and pulled.

Nothing happened.

She knocked.

No response.

Maybe he's not here?

She thought about leaving but then noticed the pile of dirt next to the hatch.

Almost as if the hatch had been opened recently and the build up of dirt had slid off.

Good work me!

Poppy knocked loudly on the hatch and called out his name over and over.

“Go away!” a muffled voice shouted from below her.

“Branch it's me, Poppy!”

“Poppy, go home! You can't be here! It's not safe!”

“Not safe?! Branch what's wrong? Let me help you! Please let me in!”

Poppy pulled harder on the handle.

“I can't!”

“Why?!”

“Cause I'm dying!”

Poppy didn't let go of the hatch, but she did stop in surprise.

“Branch, this isn't funny. You're scaring me. If you love me you will open this hatch!”

“It's because I love you that I will not open this hatch!”

“Whatever is making you feel like you're dying, we made a promise. In sickness and in health! Remember? I'm not leaving!”

They argued back and forth over and over for a while before Branch stopped responding and descended back down his elevator.

An upset Poppy rushed back to the village to find Branch’s brothers.

She was able to reach Floyd and Boom's pod first.

They were able to calm her down long enough to get a vague explanation of what was going on.

They decided Boom would go and get the other brothers while Floyd went back to the hatch with Poppy.

After a while all of the brothers as well as Boom were all attempting to help Poppy get Branch to open up about why he thought he was dying.

At the very least they were trying to get him out of the bunker.

They all had very different ideas.

“Branch, it's Bruce. I'm going to count to three and you better hope that this hatch is open by the time I get to three. ONE…. TWO…”

Clay crossed his arms “Bruce, stop. I can feel Branch rolling his eyes from here.”

Floyd pulled a sleeping Angel out of his hair and handed him over to Boom.

Angel immediately began fussing.

Floyd sat down next to the hatch.

“Branch, okay, you're sick. I understand that and I believe you.”

Floyd winked at Poppy.

“But how do you know YOU are patient zero? You might have picked it up from someone in town?”

There was a long silence before he finally responded.

“…..Maybe?”

“So why don't you tell me what kinda sick you are? Poppy can check with everyone in town to make sure it doesn't spread any further.”

“……..Well…”

Poppy silently cheered that Branch was finally sharing what was wrong.

“My hair, it's somehow oily and dry at the same time but also changing shape at random. It's flaking and itching and it's making my whole body hurt! I have split ends! I've never had split ends! I haven't been able to find what it is in ANY of my books on diseases and chronical illnesses but that just means it's more important you guys stay away!”

Bruce sighed as he looked over to Boom. Angel’s cries had woken Phoenix and John Dory was trying his best to help Boom soothe them.

His eyebrows shot up.

How did he not think of it sooner?

“Branch, have you been getting sharp aches down your neck?”

“…Yeah?”

Bruce chuckled deeply.

“Bro, you can pop open that hatch. You're not gonna get anyone sick. I promise.”

“How can you promise that?”

“Becaauuuuuse I've had this before!”

A series of mechanical knocking sounds were heard, before the hatch finally lifted slightly.

Branch's eyes appeared just below the lid.

“…You have?”

“Sure have! Thirteen times!”

“THIRTEEN?! And it's not contagious?”

“Not in the slightest!”

“What is it then, if it's not contagious, is it genetic?”

“ HA ! In a way, yes!” He grinned. “Come on out, Branch. I'll show you.”

He hesitated, but Branch lifted the hatch all the way and slowly stepped out.

The group was able to collectively let out the breath they had been holding.

Poppy launched herself at Branch and held onto him tightly.

“Okay, what's wrong with me, Bruce?”

Bruce gestured for Branch to lower his head so he could look in his hair.

Branch hesitated but slowly lowered his head.

Bruce gently pushed his hands through his brother's hair.

The thick hair tried to push back but Bruce was able to get to the particular spot.

It confirmed his theory.

He smiled widely and laughed.

He held the hair open with one hand and used the other to invite Poppy over to look for herself.

She blinked in confusion at first.

A knot?

…

Wait?

A ‘KNOT’ KNOT?!

She gasped and looked over to Bruce for confirmation.

He nodded.

“EEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeEEEEEE!”

Poppy squealed!

Branch was startled out of Bruce's reach.

“What?! What is it?! Is there like a parasite or something?! Someone better tell me or… I'll do something, I'm not sure yet!”

“Branch, you silly Troll, it's not a parasite, it's a baby!”

Everyone around them gasped!

“A….a what?” he said shakily.

Bruce put a hand on Branch's shoulder.

“Branch you're hair is forming an egg!”

Branch's eyes darted back and forth, waiting for the punchline.

He touched his hair slightly.

He thought back to everything that's happened.

It actually made sense.

“An…. an egg… I.. that's… wow… Poppy”

“Branch?”

She held out her hands, inviting him to take them.

“I'm so sorry Poppy. I just-”

“Stop right there mister! You did what you thought you had to do. You were willing to cut yourself off from the world to keep everyone safe.”

“You're not mad?”

“Oh believe me, I am so mad right now!”

Her voice became much softer as she stroked his face.

“But at the same time, how can I be mad right now?”

“We're…having a baby” he laughed through small happy tears.

Poppy held his face and they shared a sweet kiss.

Poppy grinned wide as her body became jittery.

“Pleasepleaseplease pleaaaase! Can I get excited now?”

He smirked.

“I'll allow it.”

And Poppy burst!

“AHHHHHHH! AN EGG! WE'RE HAVING A BABY! GUYS WE'RE HAVING A BABY. I'M GONNA BE A MOMMY! BRANCH IS GONNA BE A DADDY!”

Everyone cheered excitedly. Shouting their congratulations over each other.

Poppy jumped between each brother, hugging them tightly in her excitement.

“AHHH! WE HAVE TO TELL VIVA! But oooooh we should probably tell Dad first. Then of course I have to tell Bridget, but then…”

Poppy continued listing off everyone they should tell. She wasn't telling anyone in particular, just kinda listing thm to herself out loud.

Branch received hugs and congratulations from each of them as well.

This was definitely better than how he thought the night was going to go.

Branch looked over to Floyd and Boom holding their two sleeping babies in their arms.

He smiled sweetly, suddenly being able to picture a similar future, with he and Poppy and their own kid.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Quick Warm Up for A Long Marathon

This is literally just being silly. I know it's super short, but honestly for this part of the story? I think it's just hilarious. I love how this story turned out! Anyways, enjoy some hybrid!CoD

TWs: None, except König being an ass

Wordcount: 800

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

A Quick Warm Up for A Long Marathon

So the cafe was a disaster. Well, not every idea can be brilliant. You'd hoped to break the ice between you, but so be it. You’d still keep trying with König, even if it killed you. Of course with how determined König seemed to shut you out, it started to look like you’d be taking yourself out pretty soon.

You’d dealt with difficult hybrids before. You’d dealt with a tokoloshe shifter that had been determined to undermine any and every attempt to get through to her. You’d eventually won her over by providing her a plethora of fruits from South Africa and two weeks of vacation to visit her aunt during the summers over the holidays, and after that, it was smooth sailing. Maybe König needed something similar? He seemed so closed off all the time. Maybe it was because he was just overworked?

The thought helped calm you. It was a light at the end of the tunnel to look forward to. The knot that had worked itself twixt your shoulder blades started to unwind as you walked down to the gym. You wondered if maybe König would actually be a bit more relaxed once in the gym. Usually, a bit of light jogging was enough to clear your head, so maybe your hybrid might be more friendly when he’d unwound a bit. That, or he’d be particularly bristly. It was a coin flip, really. Not one that you really wanted to hedge your bets on either. You’d really rather not have to put your fate in somebody else's hands, but König had a firm grip on you and he was happily dragging you down to the bottom of the crab bucket.

The walk to the gym led you winding round the base until you came to a wide door, which in turn led to what seemed more like a stadium than a gymnasium. Inside, you turned around as you walked to get a full lay of the land. Around you was a giant track while the ceiling was lined with hoops for hybrids to duck through or swing off of. Hurdles lined one end of the track while a great obstacle course took up the center of the room. Finally, you spotted the equipment lining the far wall. There, you made your way to the back corner, where a small group of hybrids were training using punching bags and kicking pillars. At the end of a line of ten sandbags, König was practising his hooks.

“Hey!” you held up a hand as you walked over to where your colonel stood, “sorry about being late. I got a bit busy.”

König glanced over towards you before focusing back on the red punching bag.

You looked at the bag and then back at him, “So, do you need me to hold some pads for you?”

König stilled, then slowly turned his head towards you. He didn't bother hiding how his eyes squinted as he looked you up and down, “You think you can do that for me?”

You scoffed, “Of course I can! I’m your handler. It's my job.”

König gave you another once-over before dropping his stance. He shrugged and said, “Try your best.”

You turned away to hide your eye roll, but you figured it was time to finally prove your worth as a handler. If you couldn’t get to him on a personal level, he could respect you as a trainer. You’d dealt with plenty of hybrids before König, how could he be any different?

You sauntered back to him with a hefty body bag over one shoulder, your other hand swinging easily by your side. König tilted his head back, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one foot in a perfect show of bemusement. You snorted to yourself as you held up the pad to your side, shifting to a proper front stance as you readied yourself for the blow.

“Ten roundhouses on the right, ten on the left,” you declared, “sound good to you?”

“What about stretching?” König countered.

The tips of your ears were flushed as you scrambled and sputtered, “I mean, you were doing some exercise earlier, so didn’t you already do some?”

König shook his head, “I did, but did you?”

You paused. He had a fair point.

“Okay, um, can you give me fifteen and I’ll come back to you?” you asked.

König shrugged, “I’ll be here.”

Good enough.

A good fifteen minutes later, you were fully stretched and ready for whatever König was about to throw at you. You picked up your body bag and returned back to your place by König’s side.

“Alright big guy,” you gave him a wicked grin, “I’m not letting you put off leg day anymore!”

König glanced down at his legs, then back at you. The fact that his thighs were thicker than your head was left unsaid.

“So, remember, ten on one leg, ten on the other, alright?” you hoisted the pad up, “starting on the right. Ready?”

König nodded and fell into a comfortable front stance.

“Alright, one!”

Boom.

With one swing, you were sent clean across the gym. You fell into a jumbled mess of limbs, scrambling for traction on the floor mats as you sprawled out. When you managed to find your footing, you stumbled to your feet and turned to face König.

“Maybe you should use the pillars,” you mumbled.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that König was grinning behind his mask.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universe Stories

[flyingcatstiel]

SuperbatWeek 2024 fic recs

Day 7: FREE DAY!!! Superbat? | Superbat! | Superbat

a song came after by susiecarter [T, 4,500 word count]

It requires every ounce of will he can bring to bear to force himself to meet Clark's eyes. Clark looks shocked; the expression is undiluted by anger or dismay, though perhaps he simply hasn't had time to grasp what just happened. His eyes are wide, round, impossibly blue. Color is rising into his cheeks. His mouth is half-open, slack, with the slightest damp shine where— "That was," Bruce makes himself say, and then stops. Christ, what word can he use? What adjective is there that acknowledges his trespass fully? "Inappropriate." Inadequate, but it's the best he can do, and Clark needs to hear something, needs to know Bruce recognizes his own mistake for what it is. "I apologize. I—"

Comment - This fic starts where usually fics with a similar trope end. Bruce is out of the dream world where he lived happily with his husband Clark. For thirty years. Now he's to deal with the cold reality where Clark is not his beloved. Muscle memory is his biggest enemy.

Conflated by PamiGami [T, 31,900 word count]

“Are you sure you’re feeling quite all right, sir? I was but fairly sure the head hadn't been impacted.” “No… no, please. Listen. I’m in his body, but I’m not him. I can prove it.” Ill at ease, Clark rubbed at the back of his head, not stopping to think about the weird sensation of feeling not his own curls, but somebody else’s hair. The man continued to stare at him with piercing and scolding eyes. “I believe you.” He nodded. “Mister Wayne doesn’t say please this early in the morning.”

Comment - Somehow, Batman and Superman have switched their bodies, their apartments and their day jobs. Clark and Bruce are left to figure out what to do and why they're sharing a body with some random civilian. Identity shenanigans, full throttle.

Just a Formality by FabulaRasa [E, 4,600 word count]

Bruce and Clark get married, for reasons. And then they fall in love. Nope, it's not Victorian time travel! I am straight up about this.

Comment - Clark didn't know that some things on this earth could be as painful as kryptonite. Things like fake marriage.

Saudade by liodain [T, 20,400 word count]

It's midsummer, 2006. In the wake of his son's death, Bruce Wayne tries to outrun his grief on a cross-country road trip. When his car breaks down on a dusty road in the heart of Kansas, a friendly stranger stops to lend a hand.

Comment - A soft, melancholy start to a beautiful long distance friendship between a grieving father and a Kansas youth with a heart of gold. Also known as a fic where Bruce and Clark meet before the events of Man of Steel and it changes everything.

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat [M, 76,800 word count]

"Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's first instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His second instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision, which isn't much better. Clark, in an attempt to make some spare cash, unintentionally stumbles into the world of superhero fanfiction, becomes a prolific writer for Gotham's OTP, and tries his best to fend off rival fans who want him to convert to superbat instead.

Comment - Triple identity shenanigans and a love letter to fandom and shippers. This fic has everything - heartbreak, heartache, unrequited feelings in double doses, self sacrifices and near misses, ship wars and RPF. And on top of that, it's the funniest fic I've read across many fandoms, hands down.

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter [M, 33,000 word count]

It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Comment - When Batman himself is organizing and micromanaging a fake dating narrative to keep their superhero identities secret, what could go wrong? Apparently, everything. It's the worst time of Clark's life, it's the best time. It's a love story.

And last but not least, some spicy superbat fic recs!

Caught In His Gaze by DontStopHerNow [E, 1,500 word count]

This was supposed to be a stakeout to be sure Clark Kent had not lost his mind due to Kryptonite poisoning. Batman gets more of an eyeful than he expected when Clark does what people do alone in their apartments, though. He cannot look away.

What's In A Name? by frozenpotions [E, 15,000 word count]

Clark accidentally walks— or rather, flies in on Bruce enjoying a private moment. He'd probably have an easier time moving past it all if Bruce hadn't been saying Clark's name.

take a pic, strike a pose by shipyrds [E, 5,600 word count]

It’s probably a good thing Clark’s in private, because when he does check his notifications he almost cracks his phone in half. Bruce has sent him a picture. He’s in the suit, in the Batcave, and there’s probably other things happening in the picture, but Clark can’t really see any of those, because Bruce is– posing? Or maybe the camera just caught him like that; maybe he just happened to be catching his cape one-handed, setting off the sinuous curve of his bicep, the Bat logo straining across his chest. -- Bruce sends Clark a pic. Unfortunately, it goes out to some other people too.

My other superbat fic recs are here.

Happy reading!

[bitethedevil]

Taming the Wolf (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 5

Tags and Warnings for this fic: Plus-Size!Tav, Druid!Tav, Tiefling!Tav, Dark!Raphael, Breeding Kink, Mind-control, Non-Con and Dub-Con Elements, Sex Pollen, Master/Pet Dynamic, Somnophilia, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

A link to read this fic on AO3 (kudos or comments make the author very happy <3)

<< Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >>

Fic Summary: Tav tried to avoid fulfilling her contract to Raphael by leaving the Crown of Karsus on the bottom of the Chionthar, leaving her contract unfulfilled by a technicality. Although, no situation is so bad that the new Archdevil of the First can't find a way to profit off it. All the other archdevils of the Hells have their own lineages of tieflings on the Material Plane and Raphael is not going to feel left out...

Chapter Summary: Haarlep helps out (NSFW).

AN: Warning: Mention of Baby-Eating (don't even ask...)

“Do you think I’m stupid?” she asked them with a scoff.

“I think that a woman in your position can’t afford to not grab at the opportunities presented to her,” Haarlep answered. “And I would be delighted to help you.”

She sat up in the bed to look at them better. It was unnerving how they were wearing Raphael’s face and yet their facial expressions were so different from his.

“Alright, second question then: are you stupid?” she asked. “Even if it was not a completely outrageous idea, how do you suppose you would explain a baby that does not even look like him? You might be able to take his form, but the child would take after your true form.”

“Oh, come now…” they pleaded. “Use your imagination a little, druid. That’s nothing a simple glamour spell won’t fix. Please…he starves me.”

She raised an eyebrow at them and looked them up and down.

“Ah…so that’s what this is all about,” she said. “I should have guessed. I’m busy enough being used by your master. I don’t need to be used by his pets too.”

“This is about revenge,” Haarlep said with a fire in their eyes and desperation in their voice. “That little brat has gotten too much power, and it has gone to his head. I used to have him wrapped around my little finger and now he keeps me in this demeaning collar, unable to feed myself while he is either too busy literally fucking you or figuratively fucking the other eight archdevils of the Hells.”

She watched their expression. They were truly desperate. There was no doubt about it. She did feel oddly bad for them. Their predicament was not too different from their own and they were both under the thumb of the same sadistic man.

“What would I even gain from this?” she asked with a sigh. “I am tired, Phaelar…or Haarlep or whatever the fuck your name is, and it seems my time here has barely even begun.”

“Peace,” they answered. “If he thinks that you are pregnant with his spawn, he will lose interest in fucking you. When I came in here, you thought I was him. How would you have known any better if I came in here and demanded what he does? You can blame it on me. I will take the punishment for it. It would be worth it to see the look on his face.”

She thought about it for a moment. It was a fucked situation, but she was considering it. Haarlep was not the only one who wanted revenge.

“And unlike with him,” Haarlep said. “You will be in complete control of it. I can’t touch you because of the collar, but I’d wager that you can touch me. Here.”

Haarlep held out a hand to her. She readied herself to be shocked by the collar, but when she touched his palm, no shock came. Haarlep smiled. She withdrew her hand.

“I’ll think about it,” she said. “But only on days where I am particularly fertile. I don’t want to waste any attempts.”

Haarlep whined and rolled their eyes, but then looked at her and nodded in understanding.

“Fine, fine,” they said and got off the bed. “I’ll come and visit you then.”

The days went by. She had not gotten her period when she was supposed to. Most likely it was due to stress and the staff at the fortress did not exactly help. The physician who tracked her cycle was starting to threaten her with gynecological check-ups to see if she was lying about it. The whole thing was awful. She wasn’t even sure if she should hope that it came or not.

Raphael kept badgering her too. There was not a single dinner where he did not ask her and if she snapped at him, he would either tone her out or use the collar if she got aggressive. She did however learn that he was more careful with using the collar as much as usual while she went through her pregnancy scare. Something told her that if she was going to try and escape, she should wait until she was pregnant so he would go easy on her if discovered.

Eventually her period did arrive a week too late. She felt an odd empty feeling in her stomach when it did. She was neither relieved nor stressed about it. The idea of lying and keeping it a secret did occur to her, but it would not do anything to help her. Eventually Raphael would no doubt find out anyway.

That empty feeling was becoming a theme for her. She had anything and everything at her disposal. Raphael was generous with her, just like he had promised. None of it mattered though. Her fate was the same and eventually Raphael would visit her again.

A day before he was supposed to, she got a visit from Haarlep in Raphael’s form once again.

They smiled at her when they entered her chamber and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“So…” they said with a seductive smile.

She really did not feel like it. Although, on the other hand, if it worked, she could stick it to Raphael and she would not have to endure his ministrations for nine months. She nodded. Haarlep began sliding out of his clothes and she stopped them with a hand gesture.

“Could you maybe…take any other form than his?” she asked.

Haarlep tilted their head as they looked at her.

“Oh, are you afraid that he will feel it?” they asked. “He shuts it off, you know. He only allows the connection when he wants to after he got the crown. Trust me, I have tested it thoroughly. He won’t feel it unless he gets suspicious and checks in, and he is in a meeting somewhere in Dis right now. He’s distracted.”

She honestly had not even considered that part of it, but that was sort of a terrifying thought too.

“Good to know, but it’s just…” she muttered. “I’ll see enough of Raphael’s for the next couple of days. It would be nice if you could be someone else.”

Haarlep paused half-way out of the doublet they had no doubt stolen from Raphael’s wardrobe.

“Well, darling, the options are rather limited,” they said with an apologetic smile. “He only allows me those of himself these days. The collar will react if I change into anything else.”

“How about your true form then?” she asked. “Surely, he can’t forbid you from using that.”

Haarlep’s smile faltered immediately. They were so much more expressive than Raphael was and there was a clear sense of melancholy on their features. They shook their head and schooled their expression into a tight smile.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t,” they said and shook out of the doublet and carefully folded it in their lap.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t!” they snapped.

Tav was shocked at the sudden outburst. She had really only been curious. She had no idea it was a tender subject for the incubus. They weren’t looking at her anymore. They were looking at the doublet in their lap. They reached forward and placed it on a chair near her bed before moving their focus to the buttons on the white shirt they were wearing underneath. It was painfully quiet for a while before they spoke up again.

“Apologies,” they said with a small bitter smile. “I suppose my hunger makes me grumpy. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I suppose it’s a reasonable question…”

She watched them while they fumbled with the buttons of their shirt. The question had clearly thrown them off.

“Well?” she asked gently.

Haarlep sighed deeply and shook their head. They leaned back on the bed, resting their weight on their arms.

“I have never told anyone…” they mumbled and looked at her.

They looked her up and down, but there was not the same hunger in their gaze as there had been the other times they had spoken together. This was a look of pity more than anything else.

“Centuries ago, I left Mephistopheles service as a gift to his son,” they began explaining. “I had seen the little brat around in his daddy’s castle. I had slept with him plenty of times before I ever came to Avernus… Now, Raphael’s relationship with his daddy is a complicated one. One day Mephistopheles wanted to humble his son at court after he had been a particularly naughty boy, so…he had me walk through the throne room, in front of the whole court, in his form and my best lingerie.”

She watched Haarlep smile in sadistic amusement at the memory, but their expression soon turned slightly sour again.

“Needless to say, Raphael was less than pleased. He has always been a sensitive boy, that one. Then eventually I came to stay in Avernus with him. We bickered a lot in the beginning. He was being unreasonable, as he always is, and I may or may not have mentioned that particular incident. I remember him fuming about it. I was used to Mephistopheles temper, and Raphael is his spitting image when it comes to the hereditary hissy fits.”

Haarlep sighed and a note of that same melancholy as before washed over their features. She was listening intently.

“I don’t remember much of what happened, truth be told. I just remember being woken up in his bed…some old greyed mortal wizard and him standing by the end of the bed. I was in the same form that I had used to humiliate him with that day. The one that looks younger and prettier than he does now. They had made me forget…”

“Forget what?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“My true name and my true form. No matter how hard I try, my old memories are blurred. I can remember my time before Raphael’s service but every memory where I was wearing my true form is blurred. My true voice incoherent, my form blurry and unrecognizable, the memory of feeling my own body numbed… I had nightmares about blurry forms in mirrors for decades. Pathetic, really…”

Haarlep shook their head and changed into the younger looking Raphael in a flash of fire.

“This is who I am now. My body is his in the most literal sense and even my name is formed after his…” Haarlep mumbled and then made an imitation of Raphael’s tone: “’So, you don’t forget who you belong to, dear Haarlep’ he had said as his reasoning, the bastard…”

She was quiet. She truly did feel bad for them, fiend or not. She gently placed their hand on their shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

Haarlep smiled and looked at her hand. They immediately returned to their usual aloof mood.

“Oh, not to worry darling,” they said with a sigh. “You won’t have to imagine soon. Raphael always ends up shaping everything around him into an image of himself in some shape or form. I do wonder though if I did make you pregnant… Would I even be able to look at the child or would it be a blurry blob as well since it has my true features, do you think?”

It was a terribly depressing thought, and it was said with such a light tone.

“I…I don’t know,” she said.

“I suppose we will never know if I keep yapping about my sad and horrible past,” they said as if it was a joke. “Again, I apologize. Hunger just makes me so moody, and I am starving.”

She shook her head and tried to shake herself from the heavy discussion they just had, but it was difficult.

“Alright…” she said. “How do we do this?”

Haarlep settled down on the bed and untied their pants before patting their lap in invitation. They were already hard. How in the Hells they managed to be aroused after what they just spoke about was beyond her. A feature of being an incubus, she assumed. She was really trying her best to return to reality and shake the feeling of dread.

She slid out of her nightgown. Haarlep watched her with bated breath as she did so. She crawled to straddle his lap. Her movements were clumsy and awkward, but Haarlep did not seem to mind in the least.

She looked to the side to distract herself from the form under her as she tried to lower herself onto him. It hurt. She was not at all in the mood for it yet. She cursed under her breath.

“No rush, darling,” Haarlep purred from under her. “I can’t help, but oh I wish I could.”

It was clear in their tone sounded that they were grieving the fact that they couldn’t touch her. She tried to rub her cunt on their cock instead to get herself wet. Haarlep let out a satisfied moan at the friction, though they could feel as much as her that she was not into this. Haarlep fed on her pleasure, and they would not get satisfied unless she was enjoying it too.

“I am not sure that you can kiss me without me accidentally kissing back, but I could spit in your mouth?” they suggested in a low tone with a smile. “Would you like that?”

Not really. She knew perfectly well the effects of their spit and how excruciating it could be. Then again, that had been with Raphael who teased and denied her. With Haarlep she could just take what she wanted, it seemed. She looked at them and nodded.

“Open your mouth.”

She did. They spat into it with the accuracy of someone who had done it a thousand times. She wrinkled her nose a bit as she closed her mouth and swallowed it. It only took seconds before she could start feeling her whole body tingle. It was more potent directly from the source and she grew wet so fast that it seemed entirely unnatural.

She parted her lips in a small moan of relief as she started sliding over his cock with ease now as she ground herself on it. Haarlep hummed in satisfaction and gripped the sheets not to touch her.

“Much better,” they purred. “You are doing so well…”

Their eyes looked almost in love as they watched her. As if she was the most beautiful being they had ever seen. Despite her knowing it was pure hunger being sated and nothing else, she had never had anyone look at her quite like that and the feeling went straight to her abdomen.

She moved to position them at her entrance. She slid down onto them with a breathless moan. Her whole body was on fire. She began riding them at a steady pace. Her hand went to her mouth to quiet herself.

“No, let me hear you,” they protested softly from under her. “Please…I want to hear those pretty sounds of yours.”

She moved her hand away from her mouth. She was not even sure why she did it in the first place. The guards outside thought it was Raphael in here with her anyway, but it was as if a tiny sliver of fear of getting caught was still in the back of her mind despite her dulled senses.

Her moans were getting louder, and she upped her pace. The spittle along with being able to take what she wanted felt like utter bliss. It did not take long before she was riding them like there was no tomorrow and Haarlep seemed to be living for it. They were feasting, as their moans turned into feral growls, and they started babbling dirty words at her. Their claws would surely rip up her mattress with the way they were digging into it to not touch her.

“Mm, you are so good,” they growled from under her. “So delicious…That’s it…Take what you want from me, my sweet greedy girl. Fill that pretty belly of yours…Yes, yes…mm.”

They were growling like an animal in heat, and it went straight to her core. She rode them harder. She was so close. Her nails dug into their chest. She almost screamed when she came. By the look on Haarlep’s face they were seconds behind her. She could feel them starting to spurt their seed inside her.

She felt a sharp, strong tug backwards and then a loud thud as the back of her head hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. Everything went black for a second as she grabbed the back of her head in confusion. She blinked and gave Haarlep a terrified look before the door to her chambers shot open.

She felt a cold shiver go through her whole body and she lowered her gaze to the floor. She did not need to look to know who just stepped inside her chambers. So, this would be how she died, she thought for a moment. She could hear his slow, heavy footsteps enter the room, followed by a loud slam of the door behind him.

“When the cat’s away, the mice will play, I see…” Raphael drawled in a dangerously calm tone. “Haarlep…my dear…would you kindly explain yourself?”

There was complete silence in the room. The kind of silence one might imagine there would be before the world crumbles down around your ears. She looked up at Haarlep. There was a slightly unhinged smile on their face.

“I am simply making your new pet feel welcome, master,” Haarlep said in a quiet voice. “And helping out, of course. Dreadfully punctual thing, all that baby-making and you are oh so busy these days.”

It was clear that despite their big mouth, Haarlep was scared of him too, even though they were better at hiding it than her at the moment. Raphael stared them down.

“Besides,” Haarlep said and looked at her. “She begged me to help.”

Her fear turned into anger at the drop of a hat. She opened her mouth to protest, but she barely got a sound out before Raphael pinned her with his glare.

“You will be quiet until spoken to,” Raphael growled at her and looked back at Haarlep. “You came inside her. I felt it. You have never been burdened by intelligence, Haarlep, and yet, you still manage to surprise me with your idiocy. Did either of you truly think that I was unaware of anything that happens here?”

They were both quiet. Raphael looked at her again. His eyes trailed down her body with a look of disdain. His eyes lingered at her sex that still dripped with Haarlep’s cum. He looked her in the eyes with a hateful, sadistic smile.

“If a child comes out of you that does not look like the perfect image of myself, I will fatten it up at your breast, make you love and care for it, before I feed it to you in pieces. If I am feeling gracious, I might kill it before doing so. Do we understand each other?”

The threat made her blood go cold. She knew that he meant every word of it. She gave him a slow nod. A big toothy smile spread over his features. He turned to look at Haarlep.

“Change into her form,” he ordered.

[anjee0]

My Brother's best friend

Chapter 2 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

B Rabbit x Female!reader. (Feel free to put an oc insert if you wish as well)

Description - In which Y/n starts to become friends and possibly more with her brother's best friend, BRabbit.

Y/n stood in front of the milk fridge at the supermarket as she pondered which milk she should get. It didn't matter which one she did buy, Jordan would tell her that she got the milk either way. It wasn't even her turn to do the groceries, it was Jordan's, but he made his sister do it. She was already tired from her shift and now she had to do the shopping.

Y/n felt a small tap on her leg and looked down to be met with a little girl. She had short, blonde hair and big brown eyes. Her cheeks were stained rosy pink and she had a small frown on her face.

“Hey, sweetie. You okay?” Y/n asked.

“No, I lost my brother. I can't find him.” The girl responded.

“Oh, what's your name?” 

“Lily.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows when she heard the girl speak her name. She'd heard that name somewhere before but she wasn't sure when. It took a few seconds for everything to click when she remembered that Jimmy had a younger sister named Lily.

“All right, Lily. I'm Y/n. Does your brother happen to be Jimmy?”

“Yeah! How did you know?”

“I know him. Come on, I have an idea.”

Lily took Y/n's hand as they walked to the checkout area and approached a cashier.

“What are we doing?” Lily asked.

“You'll see,” Y/n responded with a small smile.

Y/n turned to face the cashier at the register and gave a smile. “Uh hey there…” She said, squinting her eyes to try to read the cashier’s name tag. “Rachel. This little girl, Lily, lost her brother, Jimmy. Is it okay if you can use your little intercom thing to call him over?”

Rachel groaned slightly and nodded. “What's the brother's full name?”

“Jimmy Smith Jr,” Lily responded shyly.

Rachel sighed and spoke it to the intercom. “Could Jimmy Smith Jr come to check out number 3? Your sister Lily is here waiting for you.” She said in a monotonous tone.

It was only a matter of time before Jimmy came jogging to the checkout to get Lily. He slowed down and raised his eyebrow when he saw Y/n standing with his sister.

Lily immediately ran over to Jimmy and hugged him tightly, with Y/n walking behind her.

“Hey, Lily.” Jimmy greeted with a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around his sister.

“Hey, Rabbit,” Y/n said with a smirk on her face.

“Y/n… thank you. Honestly. I got so fucking scared.” 

“Hey, language!” Lily called out.

Y/n and Jimmy laughed at Lily's response to her brother swearing.

“Lily, what do you say to Y/n?” Jimmy asked.

“Thank you, Y/n,” Lily responded timidly as her cheeks quickly became red again.

“No problem Lily.” 

“Uh, are you doing anything tomorrow?” Jimmy asked.

“No, I'm free. Why?” Y/n replied, smiling softly.

“Uh, do you maybe wanna do something with me tomorrow? You know, we can get to know each other more.”

“Sounds cool. Where are we going?”

“I'll figure it out. I'll give you my number, hold on.”

Jimmy took a small notebook (about the size of his palm) and pen out of his pocket. He ripped out a page of it and scribbled his number down.

“Do you always just carry a little notebook around with you?” Y/n asked in a teasing manner.

“If I ever get an idea for a lyric randomly, it comes in handy.”

Y/n took the paper from Jimmy before putting it in her pocket.

“Wait, so you saw Rabbit at the grocery store and he asked you out on a date?” Carly asked through the phone.

“Yeah, but it's not a date. He just wants to get to know me.” Y/n replied as she twisted the curly telephone cord.

“That's a date, babe.” 

“No, it's not. We established that over the phone.”

“You got his number?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, where are you guys going?”

“He's got the whole day planned out. We're gonna have breakfast at Chin Tiki-”

“Chin Tiki?”

“I know but he said that they have a really good breakfast menu.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know; I was surprised, too. Anyway, after that we might just take a stroll and then have lunch. Then we might have a little ride around town and I have a feeling we might have dinner as well.”

“Girl, that is a date!”

“He's just being a nice guy.”

“Yeah, a nice guy who desperately wants you to be his girlfriend,” Carly responded sarcastically.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, whatever. Okay, enough about me, what about you? What happened with Wink last night, I didn't get to ask you.”

“Meh, not much. He's cute but not my type. I mean, there's this one guy I'm talking to but-”

“But what?”

“He's really sweet and cute and caring but I have a feeling it might not work out.”

Y/n could practically feel Carly frowning on the other side. “Hey, don't say that. Everything will be fine. Who is this guy anyway?”

“I think it's best if I keep this one secret. I just wanna make sure everything will turn out fine before I say anything.”

“That's fine Carly. I understand.”

“Thanks Y/n.”

“Uh, listen, is it okay if you could do a favour for me please?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“So Jordan is gonna flip if I tell him I'm going out with Rabbit. Is it okay if you can cover and just pretend I'm with you?”

“Of course, girl. I got your back.”

“Okay thank you.”

They talked for another hour or so, catching up with each other and talking about their work before they decided to hang up the call. 

The morning rolled in as the sun's light rays shone down onto Y/n's face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes and tried to adjust the brightness. She suddenly remembered that she was going out with Rabbit today so she immediately got out of bed and started getting ready.

She threw on a simple skirt and a crop top, did her hair and makeup and went downstairs. Jordan was sitting at the table, eating his breakfast quickly so he wouldn't be late for work.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“To Carly's. We're just gonna hang out for the day.” 

Y/n tried to remain casual and calm so her brother wouldn't pick up on her lie.

“Okay, don't do anything dumb. I have to go to work.” Jordan replied.

He quickly got up and left the house. Y/n let out a breath of relief she didn't realise she was holding in. 

A few minutes later, Y/n heard a knock on the door as she ran a little bit too happily to open it. She saw Rabbit leaning his arm against the doorpost, smirking.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yup.” Y/n replied, grabbing her handbag from the table.

As soon as Y/n stepped out the house, she could feel the cold breeze of the Michigan air hit her face and body. She started to regret wearing a skirt and a crop top but she was sure she would eventually adjust to the cold.

They wasted no time getting into the car and buckling up to leave. 

“By the way, I should tell you something.” Y/n said.

“Sure, what's up?” Rabbit asked.

“I kinda lied to Jordan and told him I'm hanging out with my friend Carly.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Jordan would get mad if he found out I was hanging out with one of his friends.”

“Well then why did you say yes to hang out with me?”

“Because you seem like a nice guy and I'd like to get to know you better.” 

Rabbit chuckled. “I'm not the nicest guy, but I guess it's nice you thought that.”

“So are you okay with me lying to my brother?”

“You can do what you want but it kinda feels wrong.”

“That's understandable. We can cancel if you don't wanna do this.”

“No, no. I wanna do this, it'll be cool. I guess we just gotta be… cautious?”

“Yeah. Cautious. We'll be cautious.”

Y/n immediately noticed how different Chin Tiki looked during the day. It looked like a completely different bar. The atmosphere felt more relaxed and calm compared to the lively and noisy atmosphere during the night. There was no one inside except the people working there and Y/n and Rabbit. 

“It doesn't even feel like I'm in Chin Tiki.” Y/n said as she tried to start a conversation.

“I know. It's strange, right?” Rabbit responded.

“How'd you even find out about this?”

“I was just walking around one morning and saw Chin Tiki open so I decided to go in. The best part is that the food is cheap and tastes amazing.”

A second or two later, a waiter came over to their table and gave them their menus. Y/n could feel her mouth water at the food displayed in the menus. There was a wide range of breakfast items from pancakes and waffles to toast and even cereal.

“Wow, I don't even know what to choose.” Y/n chuckled.

“I normally go for the regular waffles. It's simple but it tastes great.” Rabbit replied.

“Hmm, I think I'll go for that then too.”

A few minutes after they ordered, their food came to the tables. The waffles were warm with a crispy edge and a soft inside and middle. The golden, shiny syrup was dripping off the edges and to top it off a small square of soft butter. The waffles tasted sweet and phenomenal and the syrup just made it all the better.

“Damn Rabbit, this is really good. I should come here often.” Y/n praised.

Rabbit smiled softly, knowing that Y/n was enjoying herself so far. “You work at a diner right?” He asked.

“Yeah. Karl's diner. The one around the diner.” 

“I've never been there before. Is it good?”

“The food looks good. I've never eaten there though. I just wait and make the milkshakes. I don't cook any of the food.”

“Maybe I should visit you sometime.”

For the rest of the day, they spent their time driving around and taking strolls. Rabbit showed Y/n some parts of 8 mile he'd always gone when he was younger. Y/n enjoyed watching him talk about his childhood memories of him hanging out with his friends and writing lyrics with them.

The sun started to set and they found a rooftop to sit on to watch the sunset. The sky was like a canvas of yellow, pink and purple watercolours blending into each other as the sun disappeared into the horizon.

Y/n looked down and saw that Chin Tiki was open. The loud music from the inside sounded muffled from where they sat. Bright lights could be seen from shining through the windows and onto the pavement outside.

“Should we go to Chin Tiki?” Y/n asked, nodding her head over to the building.

“Why not.” Rabbit replied.

When they got in, it was more packed and busy than usual. People were in nearly every corner of the bar dancing, talking or drinking. Off to one side of the bar, there were a lot of people dancing together, laughing and having the time of their life— and it easily caught Y/n's attention.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” She asked.

“I can't dance.” Rabbit replied.

“That makes the two of us.” 

Y/n chuckled and grabbed Rabbit's hand and dragged him over. She put her hands at the side of his neck while he rested his hands on the waistband of the skirt. They swayed to the music and held each other closer as the second went by. 

What they didn't notice was Jordan and the other guys walking into Chin Tiki and taking a seat at a table. Whilst all the guys were having a conversation, Cheddar spotted two familiar faces on the dance floor holding each other close and swaying. Y/n and Rabbit.

“Hey Jordan, isn't that your sister with Rabbit?” Cheddar asked.

Jordan and all the guys immediately looked up and spotted Rabbit and Y/n putting their hands on each other and dancing.

Rabbit's hand went down Y/n thigh and slowly trailed down it. He picked her leg up and gently brought her knee to his hip. Y/n moved her head back as Rabbit moved his nose along her neck. For a moment, it felt like they were the only ones in the room. When Y/n brought her head back, their noses slightly brushed.

“You're not too bad.” She whispered.

“You too.” Rabbit responded.

Jordan had enough and came storming over feeling engulfed in anger. He pulled Rabbit off his sister and pushed him on a table. Everyone in the club fell silent and turned to watch what was happening.

“What the fuck are you doing with my sister man?!” Jordan shouted angrily.

Rabbit quickly got up and brushed himself off. “I'm just dancing with her, man.”

“Dancing with her, yeah? You're putting your fucking hands all over her!” Jordan quickly turned to his sister and that's when she could really see the anger through his eyes. “And you! You said you were with Carly!”

Before Y/n could say anything, Jordan grabbed her hand and dragged her outside to the parking lot. Rabbit and the guys followed behind.

“What do you think you were doing?! Getting all close with him like that!” Jordan exclaimed.

“We were just dancing! Hanging out!” Y/n replied, even louder than her brother.

“You lied to me! You said you were with Carly!”

“Fine! Yes! I lied! Me and Rabbit bumped into each other at the store yesterday and decided to hang out.”

“Why?”

“We just wanted to talk and get to know each other better after we met the night before. Plus, we had nothing else to do.”

“So you lied to me.”

“You wouldn't let me go. And don't lie to me saying that you would've said yes.”

Jordan stayed silent and kissed his teeth. “Fine. I wouldn't have you let go but that's because Rabbit's my friend! You know how fucking weird it would be if my sister doing shit with my best friend?!”

“We weren't doing anything!”

“That little dance that you had sure proved something.”

“Why are you so overprotective over me?! I'm twenty fucking two, I'm an adult! I can make my own decisions, I don't need you dictating me! Gosh, you are such a bad brother!” Y/n shouted. She could her voice crack as tears slipped out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I'm going home.” 

Y/n wasted no time leaving the car park and walking past the guys. “Show’s over.” She muttered to them.

As she left the car park and started walking on the pavement back home, Rabbit quickly caught up with her.

“Y/n.” He breathed out when reached her.

“Leave me alone Rabbit. I'll just make it worse for you.”

“Don't worry about me.” 

“I just ruined your friendship with your best friend. I'm such a dick. I should've just told the truth.”

“Y/n, don't worry about that. I'll deal with myself. Are you okay?”

“Not really. I feel like a slut.”

“You're not.”

“Really? Because the way I was dancing with you sure said something.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“Me too.”

They both stopped walking and faced each other as they looked into each other's eyes. 

“Look, I had a nice night,” Rabbit began. “And I know it ended really badly but I think I've never enjoyed hanging out with a girl this much until tonight.”

“Really?” Y/n asked.

Rabbit nodded.

“I haven't hung out with a guy like this in ages. I guess I enjoyed tonight too.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Sure.”

The walk back home was quiet and brought a comfortable silence with it. When they got home, Rabbit gave Y/n a small hug and whispered in her ear:

“Call me if you need anything, you have my number.”

Y/n nodded and shut the door gently. She changed out of her clothes and jumped into bed whilst wrapping the covers around her tightly. Tears of regret and sadness spilled out her eyes and fell onto her pillow. She tried to sleep as soon as she could as she had work tomorrow.

Eventually, Y/n fell into a slumber, her last thought being Rabbit.

[ivegotyourbackbuddie]

Ao3 Link because this one is a bit long <3

Buck ducks his head on his way into the station, hoping that it's one of those days where everyone else is too caught up in their own stuff to notice that he’s kind of spiraling.

It's not that he wants everyone to be going through stuff. And really, thinking that might bring it into existence, and the 118 already feels cursed enough as is. So, Buck really doesn't want anyone to be dealing with emotional baggage on the same level as what he's dealing with but-

"You alright?" Bobby asks as he turns off the stove, pulling everyone's attention toward Buck which is exactly what he doesn't need right now.

"Fine. Just thinking," Buck replies easily, ignoring the way Eddie is leveling him with an I know you're lying because you're a worse liar than Christopher look.

Before Eddie can say anything, Chimney points a piece of bacon at him and chimes in, "Uh oh. That's dangerous."

"What's more dangerous are the thoughts he isn't willing to share with the class," Hen says, eyebrows raised in an almost accusatory way. "So, what aren't you telling us?"

Buck shakes his head with a frown. "Nothing," he states, taking a place at the table and shoveling food on his plate, hoping it's the end of this conversation.

Eddie leans over and lowers his voice to ask, "You're not having nightmares again, are you?"

"No," Buck replies honestly, although after the events of last night, he just might.

"Maddie hasn't said anything, so it's not family related,'' Chimney very unhelpfully adds.

"Are you and Tommy okay?" Hen asks.

The grimace is entirely involuntary.

"Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!" Chimney says with a laugh which dies down quickly when Bobby gives him a look.

"What happened?" Hen questions softly.

Bobby takes the opportunity to clear his throat. "Buck, you don't have to answer any of their questions if you don't want to, after all, we are all at work."

"When has that stopped anyone before?" Chimney asks, getting a swift kick in the shin by Hen in response.

The tiniest bit of relief floods his system when everyone stops pressing and moves on. Well, besides the occasional lingering glance of curiosity, they mostly move on. But the smallest part of Buck wishes they would press on because he has to tell someone, and while they are some of the nosiest people he's ever met, they're also family.

"I called Tommy the wrong name last night!" Buck blurts out.

Everyone stops mid-conversation to look at him.

"I called him the wrong name... and he left."

The amusement on Hen's face slips right off as she puts a hand over Buck's. "Oh, Buck."

Eddie swallows his food audibly before gently asking, "Left as in..."

Buck glances his way, taking in the soft sympathy in Eddie's eyes. "Left the apartment with a quick goodbye saying he needed time to think about things, and he hasn't talked to me since. It's been twelve hours."

"That's not too bad. What we really need to know is what name you called him. Then we can figure out the damage. And hey, I've had many girls call me the wrong name, and the longest I waited was maybe a day before speaking to them again," Chimney says.

"I don't think you're the best person to be giving advice about this," Bobby says with his ever-present small smile.

"Hey, I'm married now! I think I'm doing pretty great."

Bobby turns his attention back to Buck. "Hey, kid. We've all been there, okay? You're still in the early stages of this relationship, and it's natural to revert to old tendencies - including calling someone the wrong name. Hell, I've called Athena my first wife's name before; there's nothing to be ashamed of."

Buck shakes his head and stares down at the table. "But it was... really bad this time."

"This time?" Ravi asks in disbelief, only to be ignored as Buck continues.

"He didn't even look mad. He just looked... disappointed. And I thought it was something we could laugh off because really it was just a slip of the tongue! I mean, I didn't mean to call him 'Bobby!'"

An eerie silence settles in the station as everyone takes in what was said.

Buck tries to defend himself with a quick, "Uh-" But is immediately cut off by the bell going off.

On the way to the scene, everyone glances at Buck who finally says, "Okay, so Tommy has a daddy kink."

"Yeah, I could've gone my whole life without knowing that," Chimney sighs.

"And!" Buck continues, "Daddy and Bobby are... kind of similar sounding, you know? Daddy... Bobby..."

"If you say 'daddy' one more time, I will revoke Uncle Buck privileges," Chimney groans.

Hen shrugs and says, "There's nothing wrong with a daddy kink as long as everyone is consenting. Now a Bobby kink..."

There's a mixture of laughter from Hen and Chimney, an ay dios from Eddie, a mumbled what is happening from Ravi, and Bobby pointedly tries to ignore the conversation.

"We were in the kitchen and he handed me-!"

"Nope! I do not want to hear about your sex life, Buckaroo!"

Buck frowns at Chimney for a moment before his eyebrows shoot up in shock. "Oh! No! You all think I- Oh god. No. No." Buck shakes his head seriously and continues, "The kink extends outside of the bedroom. He likes it when I call him that all the time. Like when we're having dinner or when we're making dinner. Which is exactly when it happened last night. See, Bobby and I cook all the time, plus like I said Bobby and Da-"

"Alright, we're one minute out, let's wrap this conversation up please," Bobby says, as the tips of his ears turn red.

"Yes, d- Bobby. Shit," Buck mutters, ignoring the cackling around him. Who knew a minute could last so long?

Luckily, the call isn’t too bad – a car accident with the worst injury being minor airbag burns. They're able to clear the scene quickly - too quickly in Buck's opinion because none of them forget their previous conversation.

On the ride back, it takes less than a minute before Eddie asks, "So, I don't get it. You misspoke, and Tommy just... walked out?"

"If it was during sex... that would definitely be off-putting, but you would think you could just laugh it off even if it killed the mood," Hen thinks aloud, "But what exactly did you say when you called him Bobby?"

Buck shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he recalls the moment. "He just asked me to hand him the garlic powder, and I said 'Yes, Bobby' and immediately started laughing about it because I thought we could just laugh it off. But when I saw he wasn't laughing I apologized because it was an honest mistake, but he said the thing about taking time to figure things out, and he walked out."

"Maybe he didn't want to be compared to Cap because he's ancient," Chim jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Hen laughs and looks at Bobby. "You have no comeback today?"

"Don't need one if being ancient got me Athena."

There's a series of cooing, awws, and catcalls from everyone as they're quick to tease Bobby who throws a proud smile over his shoulder. Buck tries his hardest to focus on the secondhand love he feels for their relationship but notices how dim it is when compared to his tarnishing relationship. Bobby must notice it because he's quick to say, "Tommy is a good man. He'll come around."

Buck nods, lost in the thought of what if he doesn't? and too distracted by it to conceal his other thought, "Yeah, if he can get over me calling him Eddie in bed then he should be able to get over this, right?"

A weird strangled noise comes out of Chimney's mouth and Hen's jaw visibly drops. But Buck's eyes shoot to Eddie when he realizes what he just confessed.

Eddie just smiles, looking disturbingly undisturbed and a little amused and maybe… proud?

A minute of silence passes by before Ravi of all people asks, "So is no one going to question what was just said?"

Eddie shakes his head and laughs. "Come on, you guys. You said it yourself it happens to everyone. And I've had my fair share of partners who have gotten offended because they thought I said 'Buck' but 'Buck' and 'fuck' sound very similar."

"Just like 'Eddie' and 'baby' sound similar," Buck rushes to say, jaw tight, nodding quickly in agreement.

"Yeah because I'm sure that..." Chimney trails off and throws his hands up. He shoots Hen a look and asks, "Do you want to take this one?"

Hen blows out a deep breath of air and shakes her head. "They don't pay me enough to even begin to unpack this."

Eddie rolls his eyes and bumps his knee against Buck's. "This doesn't change a thing between us, okay?” He lowers his voice to say, “And between you and me, there was definitely one time I clearly said your name, so I guess we're even."

"You realize our radios are all on the same channel, right?" Bobby asks with barely veiled amusement.

Eddie's eyes widen for a second before he straightens up and fixes everyone with a flat look, almost daring them to say anything.

"Does this happen often?" Ravi asks naively.

"With these two idiots?" Hen asks.

"Yes," comes the answer from Chimney, Hen, and Bobby.

Buck crosses his arms, but he can't feel too bad when Eddie shoots him a small private smile.

Soon enough, they get back to the station, and Buck can sense something is off when he's the last to get out of the truck.

"Someone is here to see you, Buck," Bobby says, his smile tighter than usual before he squeezes Buck's arm and walks past him. Buck glances over everyone else's shoulders and finds Tommy standing there, hands in his pockets looking slightly uneasy.

"So, I'm assuming everyone knows," Tommy comments to the group who all look around uncomfortably.

"I think Cap said something about cleaning something upstairs," Ravi says before running off. He's definitely one of their smartest firefighters and probably their least nosy - maybe there's a connection there. Buck doesn't have much time to think about it as everyone rushes past him, giving him looks of encouragement and poorly concealed grimaces.

"Hi, Tommy," Buck says, purposefully saying his name to prove to both of them that he's capable of it.

"Evan," Tommy replies easily. He glances up and sighs, "Let's go somewhere a bit more private, hm?"

Buck turns and finds everyone including Bobby leaning on the railing upstairs, trying to overhear. Buck furrows his eyebrows and frowns at them, shaking his head - although he knows if the roles were reversed, he would definitely be doing the same thing.

He follows Tommy outside and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely.

Tommy nods, the ever-so-slight smile appearing on his face. "I know." He just looks out around them, glancing up at the sky as if trying to determine the impending weather. Buck nearly makes a joke about it, but Tommy beats him to speaking first. "I'm sorry that I walked out like that. I should have said what it was that was bothering me, but I truly needed the time to get my thoughts together."

"And that's okay. You can take all the time you need."

Tommy nods again before finally looking at Buck. "Evan, I think we both know what I'm about to say."

Buck's heart sinks to his stomach as he shakes his head. "No, I really don't."

Tommy glances over his face, frowning for a moment before fixing him with a look of... pity? "You really don't know, do you?"

Buck shakes his head, but he's pretty sure he can tell when someone is breaking up with him. So maybe he should nod, but this feels like something more than that.

Tommy puts his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to him. "The reason I left like that wasn't because I was angry that you called me Bobby. And really, it was funny as hell given the situation."

"But?" Buck can't help but ask.

"But," Tommy continues, "It was your reaction that startled me." Buck shakes his head, confused as ever. Tommy just sighs. "Evan, you were genuinely startled by it and taken off guard. You immediately laughed it off, and I knew it was nothing. But that made me remember the other time when you said Eddie's name-"

"Which was also an accident!" Buck cuts him off, quickly, almost desperately.

The look Tommy gives Buck nearly makes him want to take the statement back. "Please, Evan. You didn't just laugh it off then, and we both know it. And we always avoided bringing it up because we both knew what happened. From the beginning, I accepted that it was only a matter of time before you figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Buck questions weakly.

Tommy pauses, seemingly debating if he's going to tell him or not. Eventually, he settles on saying, "Both times were an accident. But one was an honest mistake while the other... wasn't."

There's a moment where Buck almost brushes it off and says I don't know what you're talking about. They were both a mistake. But he can't lie to himself or Tommy anymore, and he can see the moment that Tommy registers that, expression dropping to something somber but not surprised.

"You got my attention, Evan. But whose attention was it that you were really after?" Tommy asks, slowly backing away.

"I really liked what we had!" Buck interjects before Tommy can get away.

Tommy gives him a small smile. "I did too. But we both knew it was only a matter of time." He hesitates before walking up to Buck and pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye, Evan. And go talk to Eddie, please."

Buck huffs out a small humorless laugh, experiencing a weird sense of deja vu. He watches as Tommy walks away and doesn't say anything in response because if he fucks up his name one more time, he doesn't think he will ever recover.

As he makes his way back into the station, he notices that most people are upstairs actually minding their own business. But then he catches Eddie watching him carefully and slowly approaches him.

"I take it that went well?" Eddie asks.

Buck chuckles and glances over his shoulder to where Eddie must've had a clear view of their conversation. "Were you watching me?"

Eddie shrugs. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He says it so casually yet sincerely that it makes Buck duck his head, trying to fight the blush that threatens to color his cheeks. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

"So, everything is good then?"

Buck pauses and considers what Tommy had said – go talk to Eddie. “Yeah, things are… good.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows slightly, definitely not believing Buck’s weird tone.

Buck sighs and looks down. “Okay. They’re not good. But they’re fine. We broke up- amicably! And… I’m fine.”

Eddie takes a step closer and tilts his head down so Buck looks him in the eye. “Are you sure?”

It takes a moment for Buck to process what Eddie has said- he always gets flustered when he stands this close. He wonders how he pushed it all down before. But he remembers all the pep talks he would give himself to confess things to Eddie before finding out he was seeing someone new, and all the times he was with Christopher and knew that he would do anything for the kid. Anything meaning not dating his dad and fucking up their whole dynamic. And that’s the thing about Buck, he never knows how to keep a good thing. And if Eddie were the one to leave… he thinks it might destroy him.

“I will be fine,” Buck insists and plasters on a smile. “And don’t worry, I won’t stop your and Tommy’s whole bromance thing. So don’t stop hanging out because of me.”

Eddie frowns and puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting on his collarbone. “You know you’re my best friend, right? Even if I’m out with Tommy, you can always call me, and I’ll be by your side in a heartbeat.”

“Even if he’s flown you to a different state?” Buck jokes.

“I’ll make him fly back even faster. Maybe even see if he can land where you are,” Eddie answers, smiling wide and sincerely. Buck laughs.

They remain there for a few moments just smiling at each other before the moment is interrupted. “Everything okay?” Bobby asks cautiously.

“It will be,” Buck says with a nod because it will be.

He just hopes it will be sooner rather than later.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Buck’s in Eddie’s kitchen the Thursday after the breakup, staring at the calendar with the dumb circle around the date. Basketball pick-up game with Tommy.

Jealousy still swirls in the pit of Buck’s stomach, and he’s no longer trying to fool himself that he’s jealous of Eddie. He never really has been, and he wonders if Eddie knows that. Because Thursdays are Eddie and Tommy’s night. Even with Christopher’s absence and Buck’s extended stays at Eddie’s, Thursdays are the nights Tommy comes over to distract Eddie from the emptiness for a while.

But tonight, Eddie asked Buck to come over and have dinner with him probably knowing Buck would’ve had the tiniest mini spiral on his own. And Buck wonders what he’s done to deserve such an amazing best friend.

He glances in the pantry, wondering if he should tell Eddie to cancel the pizza order he'll be picking up on his way home in favor of Buck making something that will distract him from his thoughts. Just as Buck picks up his phone, there's a rattling of keys in the front door that makes Buck nearly jump out of his skin as he rounds the corner until he sees Eddie pushing the door open.

"You're early," Buck states as he takes the pizza out of his hands.

"Basketball ended early today," Eddie replies easily.

Buck narrows his eyes at him because he's pretty sure the only way that's true is if basketball ended early only for Eddie. "Right."

"I'm going to shower. Find something for us to watch tonight."

As Eddie goes down the hall, Buck calls after him, "You know you don't have to baby me, right?"

"Who else am I supposed to baby with Chris gone?" Eddie yells back, knowing that Buck can't really argue with him. He only wishes he had something to throw at him in response. He really should've made some popcorn.

While Eddie quickly showers, Buck set the pizza down in the living room and grabs two beers, plates, and napkins before settling on the couch. He opens Netflix and goes to his account, knowing Eddie’s is full of romcom suggestions that he pretends to hate, and picks out a random true crime documentary that fulfills Buck’s thirst for random knowledge and Eddie’s thirst for drama.

Eddie joins him a few minutes later wearing slightly ratty sweatpants and an old t-shirt that clings to his chest and arms just right.

Buck averts his gaze before Eddie can catch him staring, although he thinks he might be too late because he sees Eddie watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye. Buck grabs the remote and presses play in hopes of distracting him, but weirdly enough, Eddie’s gaze never really seems to leave him. At one point, Buck even glances over and gives him a questioning look which Eddie answers with a shake of his head before looking at the TV only to glance back at Buck a few moments later.

When the documentary comes to an end, Buck has absorbed about none of it and he doubts Eddie has either. So instead of talking about it, he grabs their empty plates and heads to the kitchen hearing Eddie trailing behind him with their empty bottles.

“Want another one?” Eddie asks as Buck rinses off their plates.

Buck shakes his head. He has a feeling that Eddie is about to ask him how he’s doing or something, and although another beer won’t really affect his cognitive abilities, Buck rather not take any chances. Once he’s through with putting the plates in the dishwasher, he turns carefully and leans against the counter, locking eyes with Eddie who lingers by the fridge, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Is there something you need to talk to me about?” Eddie questions, throwing Buck for a loop.

“Me? I was going to ask you the same thing after you found me more entertaining than that documentary,” Buck jokes.

Eddie frowns and looks away from him. “I did not.”

“Tell me one thing that happened during it.” And Buck really hopes he doesn’t say anything because he wouldn’t be able to confirm it.

Luckily, Eddie stammers for a moment before sighing, “I was staring out of concern after Tommy said…”

Buck's heart drops to his stomach as Eddie trails off. “What did he say?”

Eddie pauses and crosses his arms. “He asked if you had talked to me, and I told him you told me about the breakup, but he acted like there was something more that you needed to say.”

Buck crosses his own arms to try to hide how much his hands are starting to shake.

“Is there more?” Eddie asks.

There’s a moment where Buck almost says, No. I don’t know what he’s talking about. But then he hesitates, wondering if this is it. This is his moment.

Before he knows it, too much time has passed for him to lie and say there’s nothing, so Buck lets out a deep breath and takes a seat before he does something dumb like lock his knees for too long and pass out mid-confession. He looks up at Eddie who begins leaning against the fridge, head framed by one of Chris’s tests with a big A on it.

“I never told you why we broke up,” Buck confesses. “I never even told you the truth about why we started dating.” He pauses and looks down, unable to look at Eddie’s reaction as he continues. “You know, when I met Tommy, I thought he was pretty cool with the whole flying-a-helicopter-through-a-hurricane-to-help-us-without-asking-any-questions thing. I mean. Who does that? So, yeah I asked him for a tour because I wanted to get to know the guy - as a friend.

“And then, I saw him with you,” Buck looks up at Eddie, reimagining the moment. “And you were so happy with him. Happier than I’d seen you in a while, and I knew I should’ve been happy that you got a new friend. But I was devastated. And I felt so guilty about it, especially after the whole basketball thing. I told Maddie about what happened, and she told me all about this best friend she had and how she got jealous when she got a new best friend, and I thought… that was it. As selfish as it was, I wanted to be your one and only best friend.”

Buck pauses, wondering if he should cross this line, but Eddie nods gently in encouragement, brows furrowed as he takes it all in, and Buck continues, “But that wasn’t it. And deep down, I think I knew what was really happening, and I didn’t want to admit it. So, I changed the narrative in my head a bit… I think? Honestly, things aren’t one hundred percent clear to me about how I repressed it - but all of a sudden I was so sure that I was jealous of you. That I was jealous of you hanging out with Tommy. And that’s what I told him before he kissed me, and things just progressed from there. And really, I was happy with our relationship, he was great, and he was… kind of like you. But…” he trails off, words on the tip of his tongue but unwilling to fully let them escape.

“But?” Eddie prompts so gently that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

In one breath, Buck says, “But he wasn’t you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up so fast that Buck would find it comedic if it was in any other situation. “So, you’re saying…” Eddie asks, head cocking to the side.

“Calling Tommy ‘Bobby’ was an accident,” Buck states, uncomfortably straightening up in his chair as he prepares himself for what he’s about to say. “Calling him your name was not.” And just to put the final nail in the coffin Buck says, “And it was never his attention I was after. It was yours. I wanted you, but I couldn’t handle the thought of telling you and ruining things between us. I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship or my relationship with Chris, but here I am… doing exactly that.”

Eddie purses his lips and nods for a few long moments before turning to the fridge and opening it up, grabbing two beers, and setting them on the counter.

“I’m good, Eddie.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, these are both for me.”

Buck feels his entire being shrink in on itself and he wonders if this is the worst rejection he’s ever felt.

“To think,” Eddie clarifies quickly, walking over to place a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb soothing over his collarbone. “About everything you said - which absolutely won’t ruin our relationship or your relationship with Chris. I promise. I just need a few minutes.”

And that’s all Buck needed to hear to know no matter the result of this conversation, things would be okay.

He stands up quickly, suggesting, “Why don’t I let you sleep on it?”

Eddie gives him a look mid sip that says no before he can actually say anything. “The only way you’re letting me sleep on it is if you stay the night on the couch because I’m not letting you doom spiral in your apartment.”

“I wasn’t going to…” Buck trails off when Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “Okay, yeah, I would’ve spiraled on my own. But let me at least give you some space to think.”

Eddie nods, eyes staring off into space entirely unfocused.

Buck quietly says, “Okay,” under his breath and goes to the living room, closing the kitchen door behind him. He takes a deep breath and settles on the couch, trying to make himself comfortable but failing entirely. He takes out his phone and starts typing a message to Maddie saying this is probably crazy but remember that time you said something like whatever I had to tell Eddie I would tell him in my own time? well, guess who just found out what you meant by that and told their best friend they’re in love with them???

But then he remembers Maddie will tell Chimney and Chimney will tell Hen and Hen will tell Karen and Athena and Athena would tell Bobby and… really he does not want everyone to know he confessed his feelings for Eddie before Eddie has time to process those feelings.

Buck sighs and goes through his apps before going to Google and looking through whatever is trending in searches before going down a rabbit hole that becomes a fairly decent distraction until he thinks Man, I need to send this article to Eddie. Then he gets an achy feeling in his chest.

Quite a few minutes pass before Buck gets a sudden dry feeling in his mouth and he realizes he needs water. This is arguably the worst time to need water when the kitchen is off-limits, but he doesn’t think he could drink straight from Eddie’s bathroom sink faucet without feeling weird about it. Plus, he’s sure Eddie will understand, and he won’t interrupt his moment if he’s quick about it.

So, Buck makes his way to the kitchen, pulling the door open only to find Eddie pushing it open on the other side.

“Hey,” Buck says with a small smile.

“Hey,” Eddie responds, eyes trailing over Buck’s features as if taking them in for the first time.

A few seconds pass before Buck finally asks, “Do you mind if I get some water?”

Eddie shakes his head and steps back out of Buck’s way. But as Buck steps forward, Eddie shakes his head and says, “Wait, I’ll get it for you.”

Buck frowns, trying to interpret Eddie's body language, but he's not sure if he's ever seen him so... nervous or maybe... flustered?

As Eddie walks back to where Buck is lingering in the doorway, his eyes roam over Buck before he snaps himself out of it, shaking his head and handing Buck a glass of water. He turns and rubs his hands over his face. "Dios," he mumbles.

Buck doesn't say anything as he sips on his water, leaning against the doorframe and taking in Eddie's spiral. It's simultaneously comforting and nerve-wracking. After a few moments of silence, Buck finally asks, "You okay?"

Eddie pauses and glances up at him. Buck's almost sure that Eddie is about to lie and say he's fine, but right as he opens his mouth, he closes it and shakes his head. Buck wants to step forward and comfort him, but he hesitates, wondering if the push into Eddie's space will scare him away.

Eddie takes a few steps toward Buck, effectively making Buck feel pinned up against the doorframe. "I have been trying to replace the hole Shannon left in my life since she passed. And I've been finding all these replacements that never felt right. Hell, I found Shannon's doppelganger, and it still wasn't right. And I always thought that she was just irreplaceable. And I was right. No one will ever be Shannon, and no one will be able to replace her role in Christopher's life or what I had with her. And that’s okay. But... while I pursued all these women for the wrong reasons, I never realized that Shannon wasn't the only reason why things never worked out."

Eddie takes a deep breath and takes another step closer to Buck. "There was always this small part of me that knew that no matter what happened with my relationships, it didn't matter because you would always be there - for me and Christopher. But I never really considered that this," Eddie makes a quick motion between him and Buck, "could even be an option. And I feel..." He trails off as he stares at Buck.

"Uncomfortable?" Buck asks slightly cowering in on himself, prepared for the mental hit Eddie's answer will be.

Eddie gives him a flat look, completely shutting down all of Buck's thoughts. "Like an idiot," he states as if it's the most obvious answer. Eddie crosses his arms and takes another step toward him. "I mean, I’ve always known you were attractive. Sometimes I would wonder what it would be like to be one of your girlfriends – especially when they didn’t treat you right. I would imagine what I would do if I was them.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “Hell, I used to call Ana your name often enough that Chris tried to make it an inside joke. At the bachelor party, I really should've known though because as soon as I saw you and Tommy together I felt... awful." Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "For a minute there, I was confused as hell wondering if I was suddenly homophobic."

Buck can't help but burst out laughing.

"It's true!" Eddie laughs and hits Buck on the arm. "I had to reevaluate my feelings when Karen and Hen walked in, and I became very aware that it was just a you and Tommy thing. Then, I thought maybe I was just jealous seeing you close to Tommy or maybe seeing Tommy close to you. But that didn't really make sense because I've been so excited whenever you hit it off with anyone else in my life."

"So, how did you rationalize that thought?" Buck asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

"I got blackout drunk and didn't think about it again." The answer is so immediate that Buck can't help but laugh again. Eddie smiles at him and nudges him on the shoulder. "I should say, I didn't think about it again until about half an hour or so ago"

Buck can't help but look at him a bit bashfully. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be," Eddie says, hand landing on Buck's shoulder. "Don't ever be sorry about telling me how you feel even if it sends me into an identity crisis of sorts."

Buck cocks his head to the side. "Identity crisis meaning...?"

"I might be into guys?" Eddie says more as a question than an answer, but it still makes Buck's heart skip a beat. "I'm not sure," Eddie confesses. He pauses, eyes roaming over Buck before breathing out, "I think I might just be into you."

Buck's brain lags for a few seconds as he processes what he's been dreaming about hearing practically since he met Eddie. After replaying the words in his head a few times, he can't help but ask, "Might?" But before Eddie can answer, Buck leans over far enough to set his glass down and effectively crowd into Eddie's space, "Because I know a way for us to confirm that you're definitely into me."

"Is that so?" Eddie asks, an amused smile gracing his face. The hand on Buck's shoulder slowly yet firmly travels up his shoulder to the back of his neck. "Do you want to show me?"

Buck doesn't trust any words that are about to come out of his mouth, so he lets out a shaky breath and nods, already feeling his cheeks flush and his eyelashes flutter involuntarily.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him, and they both share a moment of this is really about to happen.

As they move closer together, Buck is sure something is going to interrupt them - like an alarm or an unwanted knock on the door.

But Buck's nose brushes against Eddie's gently, and then there's a breath shared between them before their lips connect gently.

Buck breathes in sharply, heart pounding in his chest, and Eddie responds by weaving his other arm around Buck's waist and pulling him in deeper as if he's trying to make them one whole entity. And who is Buck to deny him his wish?

Buck suddenly remembers that he also has arms which he uses to cup Eddie's face, and then he backs them up until his back is suddenly colliding with Eddie's fridge.

Eddie pulls back momentarily to make sure he's okay, and Buck laughs breathlessly before pulling him back in.

It feels like his first time on the job as a firefighter, the first time he and Eddie truly worked together as a team, and the first time he met Christopher. It feels right.

Buck smiles so wide that he has to pull away with a laugh that sounds almost like a sob, but he doesn't try to stop the happy tears that escape - especially when he sees Eddie in a similar state.

They both stare at each other in disbelief for a moment as they laugh and pull each other into a hug.

"I definitely just like you," Eddie chokes out.

Buck laughs and squeezes Eddie a little tighter.

They linger in the hug for a few moments longer than they usually would, swaying slightly. They slowly pull back to look at each other before resting their foreheads together. “This is real, right?” Buck questions quietly.

He can feel Eddie nod before he says, “It better be.”

Buck laughs softly. He pulls back and notices a faraway look in Eddie’s eyes. “You okay?”

Eddie nods and looks down. “I just wish Chris was here for this. He would probably roll his eyes at me and tell me that you were right in front of me the whole time. Or maybe he’d also feel like an idiot for not realizing that you’re all we need.”

Buck cups Eddie’s face again and redirects his gaze at him. “Hey, we’ll get to know what he thinks soon, okay? In the meantime, don’t you think it’s better that we work out all the kinks of turning what we had into something more before getting Chris involved?”

Eddie nods and laughs softly. “Of course, you already want to fix what we have before it's really begun.”

“I’m the guy who likes to fix things,” Buck says with a smile. “But I don’t think there’s much to fix here, you know?”

“Other than the years of dates, kisses, and declarations of love that I need to make up for,” Eddie comments cheesily.

Buck cocks his head to the side and feels his cheeks turning red. “Wow. Eddie Diaz is a romantic.”

“For you, I sure am,” Eddie flirts.

Buck can almost hear Christopher groaning at the line. “Declarations of love?” Buck recalls out loud.

A pinch forms between Eddie’s brows. “Yeah. You know that I love you.”

Buck frowns and tilts his head. “Really? Because I don’t think we’ve ever truly said that to each other.”

Eddie looks off as if trying to recall every moment they’ve spent together. He frowns and looks at Buck. “Another thing that should’ve made things obvious to us.” Buck laughs as Eddie smiles and grabs his shoulder. “But, just so you’re totally aware, Evan… I love you.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks with a big smile, already pulling Eddie back in for another kiss.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles against his lips.

A few moments later, Buck quickly pulls away and says, “I love you, too, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Buck laughs, “Good. But I’m still going to spend as long as I can proving to you that I love you more than you know. That I love you and Christopher more than you both know.”

Eddie smiles at him so sweetly that Buck almost forgets that he’s allowed to openly stare – more than that… he gets to openly stare at that smile forever. “And we’re going to do the same for you.” There’s a pause before Eddie gets a slight mischievous glint in his eye. “Just try to refrain from calling me ‘Bobby,’ okay?”

Buck sighs and rolls his eyes, pulling away to put his glass in the sink.

There’s a sudden loud chime, and a moment later Eddie gasps.

Buck turns to find Eddie turning the phone to him with a text from Christopher reading I’m ready to come home Dad. Love you.

“Scratch what we said about working out the kinks?” Buck says with a breathless laugh.

Eddie nods and kisses him. “Let’s go get our kid.”

[bluejackals]

post-chunkban pt2

continuation of this. word count 1202

notes: I think the european cathedrals inspired images and plagues in myhead

---

But where would that leave him? Alone on this cold cliff, purposeless again, without even the lump of hope sitting in his throat that Parrot meant it when he said he wanted Wifies as his best friend. Yes, Wifies might have Ken, and Ken is warm and wonderful and loyal down to the bone, but this is someone who doesn’t know what he is who says he wants him. This is Parrot, whose eyes are the sun, and Wifies can’t give that up. 

The strength—and perhaps also shame—of that revelation sinks him to his knees, right there on the rock. He looks up at Parrot, who is so bright it hurts Wifies’s eyes. 

For whatever reason, Wifies’s tear ducts have never been removed. Maybe it made the escape rooms feel more real to the viewers, if his eyes could water and he could cry. 

So he cries now—unwillingly, shamefully, truthfully. The tears scorch his face before being torn away by the wind. No, he’ll never be able to give the sun up. 

“I can’t,” he says. A confession to the figure staring down at him in all his shame. “I can’t.” 

Can’t tell him, can’t kill him. Would he be doing this if he knew?

“You have time.” The words sink into his veins. He shivers. Time, time, time. It feels like he’s always running out of it. 

He can’t be truthful with Parrot, but he can do this—make his way to him. Even if he has to crawl on his knees.

He manages to stand a few feet away from Parrot, ignoring any residual aches from the stone. It feels like layers of him slough off with the grit of the rocks as he does. Parrot’s eyes follow him the whole way.

Wifies takes the feather. 

It’s like flipping a lever. Parrot’s wings relax and he lets out a colossal breath and the morning light hits Wifies in thick, gauzy beams. Wifies has to blink a few more times, both to adjust his eyes and to clear away any residual from the crying. It helps to clear his head too. 

“Hey,” Parrot says. 

“Hey.” Thankfully, Wifies’s voice doesn’t crack. 

Parrot rolls his shoulders. “So. Um. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I don’t know that much about any of this. I don’t—I guess if you don’t mind explaining what that was?” Wifies is very curious. This is knowledge untouched by anything from his past; this is knowledge he can swallow whole. 

“Sure. Wanna sit?” 

When Wifies nods, Parrot rummages around in his inventory and pulls out two white carpets, setting them on the cliff and pinning them down with stray stones. Wifies takes the one further from the cliffsides. 

There’s a crunch as Parrot bites into an apple with a thoughtful expression on his face. He looks calmer—not forcibly calm like he’d been yesterday, not impassively calm like he’d been just now. Wifies realizes he also feels calmer. The churning in his stomach has reduced to lapping waves, barely present. 

“Mm. Okay. I—when I say I, I mean avians—shed feathers all the time. Those random feathers don’t really mean anything on their own.” 

To prove his point, Parrot rattles a wing. A lone piece of fluff falls out. “See? I obviously don’t moult all of them all at once, or else I’d look stupid and I wouldn’t be able to fly.” 

“Like an actual parrot,” Wifies observes. 

Parrot chuckles. “Yeah. But anyways, feathers that are freely given have significance. There’s a bunch of rituals with different meanings and stuff that are used when giving feathers. So ‘what just happened’ was one of those.”

“Which one?” The question tumbles out of Wifies’s mouth. He’s having fun learning this. Maybe too much fun. It feels like too much fun. “Sorry, I—”

“No, that’s a good question,” Parrot says. “You should get to know that.” He takes another bite out of his apple, throat bobbing when he swallows. “There’s not really a set name for it, I guess. I’ve been calling it the ‘Beginning’ ritual in my head. The feather given is one of the smaller ones because accepting it is accepting the beginning of something, whether that’s an alliance or a promise, and it’s done at dawn because that’s the beginning of a new day. It’s pretty self-explanatory. I’ve done it a few times.”

He tucks the finished apple core away. “I only use it for promises and relationships. There are other ways to make alliances that aren’t this serious.” A small smile. “I mean, you saw how dramatic that was, right? And I had to time it perfectly.” 

“But it was beautiful,” Wifies says. Beautiful and terrifying. 

“It’s meant to be, yeah,” Parrot murmurs. “But I’m glad you liked it.”

“I did. A lot.” He means it. Then his curiosity nudges him towards another question. “I feel like ‘Beginning’ implies a next part,” Wifies muses. “Are there related ones?”

“Yeah. There’s at least two more parts. The feathers given get bigger and bigger. People who get really serious will go up to a primary.” 

An unasked question materializes, hanging in the air between them. Will you? Will I?

Parrot’s headwings drift towards his face like free-floating curtains, then abruptly snap back. “I’ve…yeah. I’ve gone that far. I’d—I’d do it again.” He stares at Wifies. “If it felt right.”

Maybe that lightness Wifies felt after the ritual was the removal of Wifies’s ability to maintain a neutral resting face. He must’ve shown some kind of question in his expression. “That’s…thanks for the information.”

Wifies has a very, very good guess of just who has one of Parrot’s primaries. But it would be beyond rude to ask Parrot, so he thanks the heavens that he doesn’t have that loose of a tongue.

“Do you have any specific questions now?” Parrot asks. “Since you know some basic stuff.”

“Hmm. Actually, yeah. What’s the proper way to store this? Or wear it? I’ve seen people with earrings. Is that how it works?”

“It’s up to you,” Parrot says. “A lot of people just keep the first feather in a pocket somewhere on them so it travels with them through respawns. Turning the later feathers into jewelery is more common.” 

“I’ll stitch it into my jacket cuff, if that’s okay?” 

Parrot blinks, then smiles. “Yeah, that works. That’s a pretty innovative way of doing it too. Remember, it’s first and foremost supposed to be a gift to you, so you can do whatever.”

Right. The feather is Wifies’s. He doesn’t have that much to his name—a painful history, a prong of the trident he and Ken used in there, the clothes he wears. But now he has this as well. Something warm blooms in his chest. It’s his. Just like the trident fragment. And Ken might be happy to hear about it, because Ken always tells Wifies he should have more things. 

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, Parrot.”

Parrot nods. “Thank you too, Wifies.”

Wifies blinks. “For what?”

“Being you.” 

It’s so—Parrot. It’s a little corny and honey-sweet and Wifies’s stomach does what can best be described as a floppy somersault. Parrot didn’t say “thank you for being Wifies." It makes all the difference.  

[chimindity]

Father figure

Summary | Rafe's sister seeing him as a father figure. Request by @/anon

Pairing | Rafe & sister!reader

Warning | Rafe acting tough towards his sister.

A/N | (Rafe icons by @marvelfanfics1 ♡!!) writing this might have healed my father/brother issues😚. to anon; this is definitely not weird at all🫶🏻

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Ever since your dad doesn't really pay attention to you and your brother, you have created a strong link between you and Rafe. He has always been the one taking care of you and got your back whenever you needed it, despite the fact that he always acts rude towards you. But deep down, he loves that you rely on him; it makes him feel special.

You storm into Rafe's bedroom after a hard day at school, causing him to jolt at your sudden presence -"What are you doing in my room? Have you ever learned how to knock?" He rolls his eyes as he glances up at you, breathless from how fast you were rushing to his bedroom.

You drop your backpack on the floor and stumble your way to his bed where he is sitting up, -"I just missed you Rafe," you say as you are about to hug him. Suddenly, he pushes you away, -"Don't you have any homework or something?" He sighs as he slides his fingers through his hair.

You start fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, feeling sad about the rejection, -"I already did them at school. I'm hungry. Can you make us something for dinner, please?" You ask, noticing him roll his eyes once again.

He brings his hands to massage his temples before looking right at you -"You're grown enough to make yourself something to eat, don't you think so, uh?" He grins, knowing you love it whenever he cooks. You simply shrug your shoulders, glancing down at your fingers -"I'm tired and I love when you make dinner, Rafey," you mumble, hoping it would eventually make him give in.

And you know it, when you hear him sigh and stand up from his bed, a wide smile appears on your face as he looks down at you -"What— what are you smiling for?" He chuckles while walking past you, going downstairs to go into the kitchen. You follow him behind and giggle every now and then.

-"Nothing," you try to hide your smile as you watch him picking up all the ingredients to make a fast meal. He simply shakes his head in annoyance -"Alright, stop being weird and be helpful for once in your life, set the table," he steps back so you could crouch down to pick up two plates from the counter.

You carefully hold them against you and set them down on the table. You stumble your way back to your brother and wrap your arms around his waist from behind, resting your chin against his back -"What are you trying to do? I'm not a goddamn pillow," he huffs, trying to stay focused on the noodles that are being cooked in the pan.

-"Just want to be close to you," you mumble, peeking your head to the side to watch what he is doing. -"It smells so good, Rafey, could you teach me how to make this next time?" you ask, enjoying the presence of your brother. He simply nods and brings his free hand on top of your head to stroke your hair, causing you to melt at his action.

Your grip around his waist tightens as you feel protected and listened to by Rafe, -"Go wait at the table, k'ay? I'm almost done with it," he gives you a light tap on the cheek before you go sit on your chair, waiting patiently for your pasta to come.

He finally joins you at the table and picks up your plate to serve you some pasta, and serves himself as well. After minutes of silence, he is the one who breaks it, -"How was school today?" He asks, not glancing up at you. You pause and place down your fork before beginning to explain everything that happened today, -"Sounds like a tiring day. Where do you still get all that energy from, uh?" He chuckles as he looks at you.

You slowly push your plate away on the table, but it still catches Rafe's attention, and he quickly points it out with his index, -"No, you have to eat everything. I want this plate to be empty in five minutes," he glances at it and at you. You simply sigh and pull your plate closer to you, -"Eat it or you won't get any ice cream," he knows how much you like ice cream and definitely knows how to make you obey him.

Even though he acts all tough and sometimes rude with you, he insists on telling you to rest on the couch and to let him do the dishes for once. When he gets tired of your stubbornness, he simply drags you to the couch and walks back into the kitchen to keep doing the dishes. After he finishes, he pulls out two ice creams from the freezer and sits beside you on the couch, removing the wrapper before handing you your ice cream.

He keeps repeating to you to 'eat it fast before it melts onto your hands.' You simply giggle and try to reassure him that you're handling the situation. But after a while, he starts hearing your sweet snores and turns his face to look at you. He sights the wooden stick tightly wrapped in your fist, he sighs, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before picking up the wooden stick and placing it on the coffee table. He grabs the nearest blanket and places it over both of you, turns off the TV, and snuggles to your side to protect you, 'just in case you would get a nightmare,' he tells himself.

Taglist

@marvelfanfics1 @nemesyaaa @jjsfavgirl @mrvlxgrl @ziggyfaremen @wearemadeofstardust0 @mylettterstoyou