#and chimney appears out of the ether to say 'you wish he was your daddy for sure' and buck gets all warm inside like yeah i do

[chronicowboy]

i'm like. absolutely certain. that one of the justifications in buck buckley's fucked up freakazoid psyche about why he can't possibly be in love with eddie in anyway that is decidedly not romantic is because he's convinced that part of him wants eddie to be his dad so badly. like he's watching eddie with chris, loving him so unconditionally and picking himself up off the floor to try again and again every time he falls down, and he's looking at chris going god i wish that were me. he's like dad id like to have ❌NOT❌ dad i'd like to fuck no sir!!! meanwhile eddie uses his dad voice on him and he's dangerously close to getting pavloved into a semi every time eddie talks to christopher.

[moonstruck-ffxiv-blog]

✨ - If they had the opportunity to change their appearance drastically, would they?

[Mael’s answer]

Mael hasnever been therebefore. Carefully stepping into ahouse who haven't seen Spoken being for more than a hundred year, hestopped at everything hesaw.Faded painting of a happy family in a corner. Molded bread that gavebirth to a whole colony of huge, magical fungi. Stained glass window,broken by branches, wind and monsters. Filtered light, golden andblue sunrays was playing with his shirt, giving shadows that weren'treally there. He smiled. He smiled to no one else and certainly notfor himself. 

There were peoplehere, a long time ago. People that kissed and hug, people that talkedand fought.And now...

Adusty human skull. There.Waiting. Waiting for nothing to come. Its orbit has been empty toolong ago.The rest of her skeleton wasmissing, scattered tothe four winds, ages ago... Gremlins likes human flesh. He knew it.The rare thieves thathad the spine to sneak inside Amdapor never came out alive.High-pitches screeches of agony when you see your own arm ripped offtheir sockets... Heknew them well.

Yes,there was a dusty human skull.  And, at its top, a blue, brightbutterfly resting its wings. Its gentle, ethereal wings wereshimmiring in the afternoon sunlight.

Lifeand death. 

Inthe restroom, the bath wasfull. Countless algeas andvines had long over overrun it, its white marble barely visibleanymore. Bug eggs bubbling underthe surface, larvae with dozen of legswriggling,eating whatever their tiny jaws could find.  Insectbeing shredding other insects. Brothers eating brothers. Motherseating her own mate.

Lifeand death.

Somethingcrunched andcrackedunder his boots. He stepped away and crouched down,curious. There,he saw was a myriad of reflection ofhimself,hehad walked on a broken mirror.Himself,looking back. Thousand and thousand of little Mael, horned andfanged. Ugly. Tainted. Abnormal.

Slowly, hegrabbed the antlers growing out of his forehands, one hand coveringeach horn. If he spreaded hisfingers good enough, he could cover most of it, obfuscating allridges and bumps to oblivion. He kept his mouth closed, so couldn'tsee its little fangsglisteningunder his lips.

There.Like this. He was just a boy. A Hyuran boy. Nothing weird about him.He could be anybody: helpingin the fields with his daddy, studying to be a great conjurer to healthe world, learning archery to be a Wood Wailer...

Meat cleaver inhis hand. If he cut this disgusting, wriggling tail, he will benormal, no? People will stop being afraidof him. Love. He wanted love! And hugs! And kisses!

Loveme!

Hescreamed when the blade touched his skin. It barely made a dent, afew droplets ofblood on his dark, dark skin (it was always blacker on his tail. Heneverknewwhy.) He threwtheknife away, tears of pain in his eyes.

Loveme! Please love me! Love me! Love me! Love me!

Ina sight, he let go of his horns.

Hewasn't just a boy.

[Célestin’s answer]

Itwas one of those quiet, cold days, where resting was acceptable. Sohe relaxed, warm cup of tea at hand, door locked, Linkpearl out fromhis ear.

Hewas going through his personal library,longfingers caressing every examplery as he walked. And, suddenly, adisobedient one. Celestinjumped when thisbook fall down from the shelf, endingits course on the floor.

«Thisis a title I have not so for almost thirty years, »he thought, fingers reaching for the discolored,cracked binder. 

Thumb runningover the document, he had a soft smile. Arare moment of nostalgia andweakness and he remembered.... Little Celestin, so young andpure. Aurele,his dear brother, so lively and spirit ablaze. Eyesalways burning, only vigor spouting from his lips. Aurele. Oh,Aurele, Aurele, Aurele.

«Whereyour internal fire would have brought you if you did not to hang itlike you did with your body? Would youhave taken your revenge you wished it for ardently,Aurele? Would you have made them pay? Wouldyou have painted our house name on every lips. My dear brother. Mydear foolish, foolish brother.»

ThePrincess in a Rose. Ashamed to admit it, it was one of his favoriteas a child. Simplistic children's storybook,of a princess born in a purelike now, white rose.Her adventures werenothingreally worth of mention. She goes through theseven kingdoms, learning chastity, temperance, charity, diligence,patience, kindness and humility. Finally, at the end of her voyage,she met a beautiful prince, clever as he ishandsome.

Handsome.

Hisred gaze turned away from the book. He didn't need a mirror to knowit. His traits,hisugly, disgusting, horrific traits, he knew them by heart. How thinand hisgreasy hairwere. How repulsive, thick, out of proportion his nose was. How paleand sickly his skin was. Howthin, anemic, frail hos body were.

«Beautifulprinces and gorgeous princesses. Beauty equal virtue, does itnot? Exquisite faceswill never lie. Fine hands will never stain themselveswill blood.Delicate figure dancesin the moonlight,for your health and happiness, never to partake in theblackest Sabbath tocorrupt and curse you. Beautiful princess andgorgeous princesses, radiant maiden and sun-kissed knights! Pureof heart courtesan, with her grace molded in her flesh, to hold youtired head and drown your lips in kisses. Gods and goddeses on earth! Allure no man could ever match! Oh,how we know!Weknow! Everythingthatis isugly... is evil. »

With asharp snap, he closed The Princess in a Rose, throwing it in hisfireplace. There was a soft thump when the book landed inside thechimney.

«Howchildish. »

Cindersroused from their sleep, quickly consuming paper and ink in a lowgrowl.And.There were onlyashes behind.

[Ezriel’s answer]

“-Eh? Changin'something 'bout me?”

Theyoung Duskwight -Ezriel, was his name? Or at least, that was what hemight have said- had a lewd smile. He was thinking of something. Oh.No. By the Twelve no. Don't say-...

“-Don'tneed anythin'.Pretty the way I am. Dontchu agree?”(He took a sip of his beer, icy blue eyes darting for a moment.) “Oh!Maybe a bigger cock? Can't never be thick enough. Want it so large Imake those roegadame pulltheir collars, sweat on their forehead, like “oh baby, that's a bigone! Quickly,shove it into my ass!”Know what I mean, aye? So long, when I get hard, I can make my undiesdry on it like  it's a godsdamned clothesline.Yeah.” (Henodded to himself, have a quiet chuckle.)“Now that's a good answer!”